Free The Seduction of Lady Charity: The Baxendale Sisters Book Four by Maggi Andersen Page A

the cause. It hardly mattered. She’d seen no sign that he still wanted to marry her. She should have been relieved and discovered she wasn’t. It was not like her to be muddleheaded, and she grew quite annoyed with herself.
    ****
    “Will you take a turn around the garden with me?” Robin asked Charity when they stood at the front door. “We haven’t had much time to talk.”
    Charity smiled and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Let’s walk across the lawn to the gazebo.”
    They strolled down the gravel drive, bordered by trees turning glorious shades of gold and amber. “The trees are magnificent. I think autumn is my favorite season.”
    “Yes, this time of year is beautiful in Northumberland,” Robin said.
    “I must agree.” She turned to look at him. “How kind of you to bring Father those books. And to know what interests him. It was…observant of you.”
    “Well, I must confess he did tell me. More than once,” he replied with a grin.
    She laughed.
    “I know your interests, too, for we share some,” he said. “Art and ornithology for instance. Did you return to see the golden oriole again?”
    “I did go back; the bird must have gone. But I did spy a red-flanked bluetail this morning. I looked it up in a book I found in my aunt’s bookroom.”
    “Many of the birds here you won’t find in Tunbridge Wells.”
    Charity studied his face. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
    “I need your opinion on the castle’s artworks. What I should do about them. Some seem desperately in need of restoration; they’re so dark one can hardly make out the subject. Others, I may not keep. Would you care to advise me?”
    “But of course. I should enjoy it.”
    “Perhaps you and your family could come to luncheon.”
    “Father won’t come. He’s not as robust as he makes out.” She frowned. “You mustn’t ask him to ride with you yet awhile, Robin. I know he’d accept the challenge, but he’s not yet ready for strenuous exercise.”
    “I’ll seek your advice before I do.”
    “Thank you.” Her brows met in a worried frown. “Mama won’t come without him. I’ll bring Mercy. She’s at a loose end while we are away from home.”
    They walked up the steps into the ornate timber gazebo. Robin grasped the rail to keep his hands occupied. “It is good to see you again, Charity.”
    “I feel the same, Robin. When you didn’t write, I confess I sorely missed your friendship.”
    “You did?” Pleased, he searched her clear blue eyes. But he no longer believed friendship was enough on which to build a marriage.
    “But of course. Why did you stop? Were you too busy?”
    Ashamed that he’d employed tactics when she was always so honest, his hands tightened on the rail. “Busy yes, but I also thought my letters might be unwelcome.”
    “But why?” She stepped closer, making him aware of her perfume, womanly scent, and the soft sway of her skirts.
    He turned and leaned his back against the timber wanting some indication of her true feelings. “Life goes on, Charity. You in one direction, me in another.”
    Her blue eyes grew shadowed. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Your life has changed a good deal and will continue to do so.”
    “So has yours. For instance, there’s the Scot.” He could have bitten off his tongue. He’d been determined not to mention him.
    “Gunn? I merely painted his portrait. It was a business matter.”
    Something about her words sounded unconvincing, and a hot bout of irrational jealousy flooded through him. “You don’t intend to see him again?”
    “I have no plan to.”
    But what does Gunn plan? Robin wondered. He was known to be a man who pursued women. Robin pushed away from the rail. Best he leave now before he spoke out of turn. “I must go. You’ll come tomorrow?”
    She smiled. “I shall look forward to it. I know the paintings will be very fine indeed.”
    He headed down the steps and turned to see she’d remained where she was.