Page 76 of Charming Artemis

He clearly had no idea what to make of her. “I am not doddering.”

With the same indulgent tone one used with very little children and a pasted-on look of clearly feigned agreement, she said, “One is only as old as one chooses to feel.” She pointed down the road behind them and spoke slowly again. “Collingham is in that direction. Your house is on the other side of it. Should you grow confused, do not fret. Many people are only too happy to help the frail and aged.”

Artemis took Catherine’s free hand and led her sisters-in-law away from the gentleman who had, without question, intended to importune them, at the very least. She made one last comment before leaving him behind, and she spoke loudly enough to be overheard without being obvious that such was her intention. “Perhaps the vicarage can add Mr. Finley to its charitable efforts, check on him now and then to make certain he is not wandering about lost and confused.”

They walked on, silently, increasing their distance from him. Their conversation didn’t resume until they’d passed through the gates of Lampton Park.

“Your handling of him was masterful,” Catherine said to Artemis. “I’ve never seen anything so brilliantly done.”

“You should see how my brother-in-law the duke handles difficult people. He makes my efforts look amateurish.”

They laughed good-naturedly as they stepped inside and were divested of their gloves, coats, and bonnets, then walked arm in arm to the drawing room, where a good number of the family were gathered.

“You appear to have enjoyed your deliveries,” Sarah, the vicar’s wife, said.

“It was lovely,” Marjie said, “until Mr. Finley crossed our path.”

Crispin was on his feet in an instant, moving swiftly to his wife. “Did he mistreat you again?”

“He tried,” Catherine said, “but I had a very able champion.”

Marjie took up the tale. “Artemis was brilliant. She kept ‘correcting’ Mr. Finley’s pronunciation of Catherine’s name and inquiring as to where his nursemaids were and if he’d taken his powders. And then, when he turned his attentions on her, she said, in such hilariously innocent tones, ‘I think thisold manis attempting to flirt with me.’”

The room erupted in laughter and applause.

“He was put so neatly in his place, I suspect we’ll not be bothered again by him for some time,” Marjie said.

Crispin took Artemis’s hand in his and bowed gallantly over it. “You have my deepest gratitude, Artemis.”

“The horrid man needed a setting down. I was pleased to deliver it.”

From across the room, someone—Artemis was nearly certain it was Philip—called out, “Charlie, come hear the miracle your wife wrought while she was away.”

She searched the room for Charlie. He would enjoy hearing her retelling of the morning’s events. He might even put his arm around her again. Hold her near him. Kiss her more than fleetingly.

Her eyes found him, and she could not look away. He wore a very handsome green waistcoat, not so bright as to feel inappropriate for one who preferred subtlety but with color enough to be pleasantly striking. It had been paired with a jacket and trousers in complimentary but neutral colors, again in keeping with his personality. And the green brought out a bit more of the red in his hair. Hair that had been cut and fashionably arranged.

He was, in a word, devastating.

He moved toward her, and she toward him.

“You’ve changed your clothes,” she said when he was near enough for words to pass between them.

“I thought I ought to make a little more of an effort,” he said.

“You look very handsome.”

He smiled a gorgeous, heart-flipping smile. “Wilson said he was pleased that I no longer looked like a land pirate.”

“Wilson helped you?” She ought to have seen the hand of a genius in the transformation.

“And Mr. Layton. And Philip.”

As much as she liked seeing him look a little less like he hated his life too much to even try, she fully realized he had likely not enjoyed the undertaking. “Those three together are a great deal to take in at one time.”

“I have suffered greatly, Artie. But not, apparently, as much as Mr. Finley.” He grinned. “Did you really call him ‘an old man attempting to flirt’?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Did the trick.”

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