by Diana Quincy
“That you are,” he agreed, letting his eyes run appreciatively over her. “Are you aware that you scratch your ears when you are lying?”
Her eyes widened. “I do no such thing.”
“Indeed you do. A scratch behind the ear, a tug on the earlobe. It’s a dead giveaway whenever you prevaricate.”
She looked heavenward. “There really is no hope for me.”
He put a gentle hand on her arm. “Will you share with me what happened with your brother? How could your father, or Shellborne for that matter, allow him to come to this?”
Pain crossed her face. “You know the circumstances surrounding his birth.”
“Of course, but it is hardly unusual.” He grimaced. By-blows were not a subject one generally discussed with ladies of quality. “There are many gentlemen who raise their…uh…base-born children alongside their legitimate offspring. If not that, then they are duty-bound to provide for them.”
“Father didn’t do all he should have for Nathan.” The lines around her mouth tightened. “He should have been educated to a more respectable life, as a barrister or perhaps a solicitor.”
Cam frowned. “Fuller said last night that your father accepted him.”
Charlotte told him the full story as they walked. Her father had fallen in love with the butler’s daughter, but hadn’t learned she carried his child until after marrying Charlotte’s mother. So he’d arranged a marriage to the local blacksmith, Tom Fuller, a decent working man who’d long carried a torch for Elizabeth and who agreed to raise her child as his own.
When Nathan turned six, the baron brought him to live at Shellborne Manor where he shared their lessons with the governess. But Charlotte’s mother had resented the preferential treatment, so when Hugh had left for Eton, she’d refused to allow Nathan to go as well. As a result, he’d stayed behind to train as the estate steward.
“I think Father saw Nathan’s potential and hoped he would eventually become Hugh’s steward.” The gentle patter of soft rain sounded as they passed an expanse of tall, arched windows. “But Hugh and Nathan never got on. Nathan excelled at everything. Hugh did not. It rankled Mother that the son of her rival could best her own son.”
“Her rival? I thought you said the affair with Fuller’s mother ended.”
“It did, but I suspect Mrs. Fuller remained the great love of Father’s life and Mother always knew it.” She flushed, casting a quick glance at Cam. “There, I have said entirely too much. Now you see how lacking in discretion I truly am and why Mother fears my loose tongue.”
“You are forthright and honest.” The words were tender. “Those are qualities to be admired.”
Her color rose even higher. “You cannot blame Hugh, I suppose. Mother’s attitude was bound to rub off on him.”
“But not on you.”
“No.” Her eyes glistened. “Nathan is my older brother and I adored him from the first.”
“Knowing how it was between the brothers, why did your father make no provision for Nathan when he died?”
“He left him nothing. Perhaps he meant to and never got to it. I’ve always thought he was frightened to do so because of Mother.” She blew out a breath. “As soon as father died, Nathan left Shellborne Manor. He worked in a mill for a time, but he missed estate life. So he came to work for Hartwell.”
“With your help.”
“Yes.” She stopped walking and faced him. “But the duke and Willa know nothing of our connection, and Nathan desires that it remain so.”
“Why? He would receive better treatment if people knew the truth of his birth.”
“I suppose it is easier for him that people simply think of him as the duke’s coachman rather than the unacknowledged base-born son of a baron. He has a keen mind.” Pride filled her voice. “I can foresee him eventually becoming Hartwell’s steward.”
He halted and reached for her hand. “What of us, Charlotte? Dare I hope this new honesty between us can lead to a future?”
She shook her head, watching his hand flirt with her fingers. “No, Cam. I wish it were that simple, but it is not.”
“Tell me why,” he said. “I know now there is no other. We have something special here, Charlotte. It is not always this way between a man and a woman. You must not cast it aside lightly.”
She took his hand into both of hers, running her slim, tapered fingers over the rough curves and edges where soft skin melted into hardened calluses from years of riding. Her feathery touch sent a jolt of electricity through him. He would never let her go.
“I will not lie to you. You deserve so much better than that.” She raised her eyes, locking her azure gaze with his. “The circumstances that prevent us from marrying have not changed. No one is sorrier of that than I.”
Cam brought her hand to his mouth to press a quiet kiss into her open palm. “Tell me what those circumstances are. We shall work them out together.” The words were urgent. “I am a marquess, Charlotte, who wields a great deal of power and has widespread influence. Whatever it is, we can manage it together.”
“That is just it.” The words were heavy with regret. “There are secrets in my family that I cannot share.”
“Whatever it is, it cannot be so awful.”
“You are someone of importance in the government,” she said. “You could be minister one day. And then you will be able to achieve true greatness. You can help the workers. Everyone will look to your mill town and emulate you. Nothing can taint that. Nothing is more important.”
“You think to protect my political career? Is that what this is about?”
“It is about the good you will do for so many people when you are a minister. Perhaps even one day you will be prime minister.” She turned away from him. “My family’s secrets would ruin you.”
He put a hand on her shoulder to turn her back to face him. A wave of determination moved through him. He could not lose her. He would not. “How bad can it be? Surely you exaggerate. I can withstand a little embarrassment, Charlotte. You must let me decide.”
“No, once I tell you, you are tainted with the truth. You will be forced to choose between me and your honor.” She shook her head adamantly. “I will never force you to make that choice. Loving me cannot be the cause of your ruination.”
Her crystal-blue eyes glistened with such honest determination his chest ached. “Do you love me, Charlotte? You said you would not lie to me. Do you?”
She exhaled. “Yes.”
“Then fight for us.”
“I am fighting for you, Cam,” she said. “For your future. To keep my family safe.”
“You do not trust that I will keep your family safe?” The steel of her voice ignited a quiet panic deep within him. “Your family becomes mine when we marry. They will have my protection.”
Her face softened. “Of that I have no doubt. That is why I cannot allow it. You must have no connection to the Livingstons, ever.”
A maid appeared at the end of the hall. “Miss Livingston? Her Grace requests your presence in her chambers.”
She nodded to the girl. “I am coming.” She looked back to Cam. “I am not a silly, hysterical woman. You know this. You must trust me.”
He felt her slipping away. “Are you certain you can do this, Charlotte? Are you prepared to see me court other women and perhaps marry one of them?” He leaned down, coming face-to-face with her, trying to ignore the light floral smell raking his senses. “Have you asked yourself how you will feel when another woman carries my child in her belly? When all along you will know it should have been you in her place?”
She stiffened. “I must go. Willa is not well this morning.”
“This is not over.”
“I will always want the best for you.” She regarded him with quiet calm. “I wish you every happiness.”
Reluctantly releasing her, he leaned against the gallery wall and crossed his arms, his iron look following Charlotte’s retreating figure. Oh, he planned to be happy all right. He didn’t care
what her secret was. He wouldn’t be diverted from his plan to make her his. The only difference now was that the matter of seducing Charlotte had just taken on an entirely new level of urgency.
Chapter Eleven
“Who is that?” Charlotte asked.
A well-appointed, blacked-lacquer coach came into focus as she and Willa came around a bend during their daily walk.
Willa craned her neck for a better look. “Why, I think it’s Selwyn’s coach. Hart said he might come for a few days.” She let out a sigh of relief, pushing an errant curl off her flawless face. “Thank goodness. We need a diversion. You are so good to spend my confinement with me, but I fear I have been selfish, cooping you up here entirely too long without amusement.”
“Nonsense.” Charlotte thought of the pleasure of seeing Cam every day. “I have been able to catch up on my writing. I’ve even begun my article about Cam’s mill town.”
As they entered the great hallway, the duke stepped out of the drawing room to greet them. “Here they are now.” Hartwell offered Willa his arm, leading them both inside the drawing room. “Willa and Miss Livingston are returned from their walk. Darling, Selwyn is here and he has brought his lovely sister.”
Standing to greet them, David Selwyn sketched a bow before turning and beckoning his sister to come forward. “Your Grace, Miss Livingston, allow me to make known my sister, Miss Margaret Selwyn.”
Miss Selwyn was striking, with lustrous golden hair and large grey eyes. The fashionably low décolletage of her peach gown displayed the generous curves of her dainty form to great advantage.
“Your Grace.” She dipped a deep curtsy. “It is an honor and a pleasure to meet you.”
Willa returned a generous smile. “Welcome, Miss Selwyn. His Grace and I are very fond of your brother. It is a true pleasure to at last make the acquaintance of his sister.” The duchess tossed Selwyn a look of friendly recrimination. “Mister Selwyn, where have you been hiding this lovely creature?”
“My sister has been traveling on the Continent,” he said with a warm smile. “She is just returned.”
Miss Selwyn turned to Charlotte. “Miss Livingston, when David told me you were here,” she said in a breathless voice, “I was thrilled beyond all measure. I have read some of your writings. It is a rare treat indeed to have the opportunity to meet you in person.”
Pleased and surprised by the compliment, Charlotte smiled. “Why, thank you, Miss Selwyn. How good of you to join us.” A footman appeared with tea and Willa directed them to their seats.
She turned to Selwyn. “I hope you are going to honor us with your presence for more than a short visit.”
Selwyn sat in a chair opposite Willa and crossed his legs, one knee over the other. “His Grace has invited us to stay for a few days, with your leave of course.”
“You have it, with pleasure.” Willa opened the caddy and sorted out the tea leaves before nodding to the waiting footman to pour the urn of boiling water into the china teapot. “Charlotte and I were just talking about a need for diversion. And you have brought your lovely sister, too. It is a wonderful surprise.”
Footsteps sounded in the cavernous hall just before Cam strode into the room full of vigorous energy. His riding clothes hugged the strong curve of his backside, highlighting the enticing indentation to the side of each firm swell. Cam’s amber hair was windblown, his angled cheeks flushed from his exertions.
Charlotte’s heart faltered every time the man swept into the room. In the week since the revelation about Nathan, he’d been polite, engaging, and charming. Once or twice she caught him giving her a discreet considering glance, but he hadn’t attempted to be alone with her. Cam’s apparent acceptance of her rejection should relieve her, but it left her insides feeling barren and desolate.
“Ah, here’s Cam now,” said Willa. The marquess stopped short when he realized new guests had arrived.
Selwyn stood, a broad smile on his face. “I see your valet has yet to learn how to cut a gentleman’s hair.”
Cam flashed a wide, genuine grin. “It is the secret to my strength.” He assumed a fighting stance with fists raised at the ready. “Care to test my theory?”
Willa rolled her eyes and interrupted their friendly blustering by gesturing toward Margaret. “Cam, Mister Selwyn has brought his sister along. Have you met Miss Margaret Selwyn?” The smile on Cam’s face stiffened almost imperceptibly as his gaze slid to the lovely Margaret.
She smiled prettily and dipped her chin in a show of practiced modesty. “My lord.”
He bowed. “Miss Selwyn, we meet again.”
Willa’s eyes widened. “The two of you know each other?”
Miss Selwyn’s luminous face brightened. “Yes, the marquess came home with David quite often during breaks from university. I was just a girl the first time he visited.” She fingered a tendril of hair. “It has been what…almost three years since your last visit? That was shortly before he came into the title.”
“Indeed.” The cool, courteous words lacked Cam’s usual geniality. “I was just the Honorable Mister Stanhope back then.”
“And where is your family home, Miss Selwyn?” Charlotte asked, forcing a friendly tone despite the jealousy raking her insides. What kind of connection did Cam have to this gorgeous creature?
Selwyn’s sister kept her large grey eyes fixed on Cam, appearing not to have heard Charlotte’s question. Her brother answered for her. “Just outside of London, in Richmond, Miss Livingston.”
Miss Selwyn blinked those endless lashes of hers. “It was a wonderful house party.” She looked to Cam. “We had a most lovely time. Do you recall, my lord?”
“I do, Miss Selwyn.” Cam’s face remained stone-like. “It was memorable.”
“I was such a child then, just barely seventeen.” Her luminous eyes still fixed on him, she let out a soft lilting laugh.
It was obvious Selwyn’s comely sister wanted Cam. Charlotte fought a mad urge to pull the chit’s golden hair right out of her head. Instead, she pressed her lips into a smile and sipped her tea.
Cam took a position by the hearth with one elbow propped on the mantle. Despite the casual stance, Charlotte detected tautness behind his courteous expression. Selwyn’s sister clearly affected him somehow.
She suppressed a sigh. Well, why not? Even she could see Miss Selwyn, with her petite frame, fair hair, and delicate features, embodied the ideal Ton beauty. Men no doubt appreciated her lush, curvaceous body. Charlotte shoved a loose tendril of hair away from her face. The lady’s visit had just begun yet her jaw already hurt from clenching her teeth.
…
Miss Selwyn’s charms were on full display that evening at supper. Her sea-green silk gown enhanced a full bosom and smooth expanse of creamy skin. The wide round neck of her gown was trimmed in silver, which highlighted Miss Selwyn’s slate-grey eyes, while soft tendrils from her upswept golden hair framed her face.
The lady spent the entire meal tittering at any remark Cam happened to utter, hanging on to his every word, especially when conversation turned to the Luddite risings.
Miss Selwyn’s eyes widened when she learned of the attack on Cam and Hartwell’s mill. “Oh, my,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Those Luddites are frightful.”
“What of the thousands of government troops brought in to quell the machine breaking?” Selwyn asked over a glass of wine. “Has it helped?”
“Somewhat,” Hartwell said. “But one wonders what will happen once the troops are withdrawn.”
Miss Selwyn gave a dainty shudder. “They should hang every one of them.”
Her brother said, “One wonders if they will ever capture Ned Ludd.”
Hartwell gave a footman a mere fraction of a nod. The man moved forward to refill the duke’s glass. “They have not even been able to ascertain whether the man is real.”
“It is easy for an imaginary man to elude capture,” Cam said.
“An imaginary man?” The worshipful look Miss Selwyn gave Cam made Ch
arlotte want to roll her eyes. Instead, she chomped down, a bit too forcefully, on the veal in her mouth.
“Some say the Luddite risings can be traced back to one man and a single incident,” Cam said. “This Ludd fellow worked in a mill somewhere, perhaps in Leicester. They say he broke two stocking frames in a fit of rage.”
Miss Selwyn’s eyes widened. “Was it done purposefully?”
Selwyn nodded. “Some say it is so.”
“But others say Ludd was a simple man, actually the village idiot, so that it was not purposeful,” said Cam, taking a bite of boiled beef.
Willa shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position. “How ironic it would be if a village idiot’s careless actions launched this rebellion.”
Charlotte, who had listened to the exchange without comment, finally spoke. “However it began, the movement it launched is very real. Its grievances are not without merit.”
Miss Selwyn’s eyes widened so much that those never-ending lashes almost touched her delicate brows. “Surely you do not approve of machine wrecking, Miss Livingston.”
“No, but their concerns will have to be addressed,” she said, wondering if Miss Selwyn practiced that expression in her mirror. “We cannot have a countryside full of people reduced to beggary because there is no work. They must have a way to feed their families and light their hearths.”
“Exactly right, but violence is not the answer and it must be dealt with harshly,” said Cam. A pang of disappointment cut into Charlotte’s belly when his glance slid away from her to settle on Miss Selwyn. “If this Ned Ludd does indeed exist, he needs to be stamped out. The sooner, the better.”
Charlotte couldn’t have been more thankful when the interminable evening finally came to an end. Unfortunately, she faced more of the same the following morning when the group set out for an early morning ride.
“Thank you,” Miss Selwyn said to Nathan as he helped her mount her steed. She and David joined Cam, Charlotte, and Hartwell. Willa’s condition prevented her from participating.
