by Diana Quincy
Chapter Fifteen
Unusually high, sweltering temperatures settled over Fairview, with not even the slightest breeze to stir the stiff summer air.
The doctor who came to see Willa took one look at her swelling limbs and promptly ordered her to remain abed for the remainder of her pregnancy.
A sense of tense quiet hovered over the manor after the latest distressing news from the mill. Machine breakers had attacked again. The armed guards Cam and Hart hired after the last incident managed to repel the crowds, but not without bloodshed. Three protesters had been killed in the melee and the angry crowd managed to get to one of the mill security guards. He’d been beaten and seriously injured before one of his fellow guards managed to frighten the rioters away by firing his weapon.
The news, which she’d learned of from Willa well after Hart and Cam rushed off to inspect the mill, sickened her. It was the kind of escalation they had all feared. And for Charlotte, it heightened the growing fear she had no future with Cam. His reaction to the revelations about Nathan had been as virulent as she’d expected. And she hadn’t even told him all of it. She’d revealed just enough of the truth so he would know marrying her could deeply impact his future.
Despite the unusually warm temperatures and lack of a companion, she still undertook her daily walks. She had not seen Cam for three days and the exercise was a way to work off the brittle tension building within her. Exhaling, she increased her pace, striding over Fairview’s fields, going further than she normally did. Small beads of sweat gathered on her upper lip as she pushed onward, uncertain of how long she had walked. So lost was she in her thoughts, that she didn’t hear the approaching horse until it was almost upon her.
She spun around to see Cam sitting atop his stallion, silhouetted by the sun. He slid off his horse, his Hessians thudding when he hit the ground. The two of them looked at each other for a moment. He wore an inscrutable look on the strong curves of his face, his shining gaze holding hers. Then, in two quick strides, he was in front of her, pulling her into his arms.
The wave of relief that washed over Charlotte almost knocked her off her feet. He murmured her name and crushed her lips under his, his tongue invasive and demanding. Desire surged and overflowed in her. She vaguely worried that she must look and smell less than pleasing in the summer heat, but if Cam noticed, he gave no indication. His mouth moved to her throat, devouring it, softly calling her name.
Embracing his head and face, she pulled him closer. “Cam? What is this?”
She felt him smile against her neck. “Can a man not seek comfort in the arms of his betrothed when he is returned from an arduous journey?”
Her heart soared and clenched at the same instance. He was troubled and had sought her out for what? Comfort? Warmth? She cupped his face and looked into his eyes. “Was it so very awful? Were more hurt than you feared?”
He feathered his fingers along her temple, his eyes clouding. “The anger is palpable now. The tension is everywhere.” He sighed. The stress of the past few days had deepened the lines around his eyes and mouth. “We’ve hired more armed guards to patrol the town as well. The Ludders are turning their anger on the people who work in our mill.”
She searched his face. “Cam, if you like, I will cry off on our betrothal. I know the news about Nathan is too much.”
He tightened his hold on her. “All I could think of while I was gone was how much I wanted to return to you and put things to rights.” His wry smile melted her insides. “Somehow you have become home to me, Charlotte. If I let you go, where will I go? What would I do?”
“Truly?” The heavy weight in her chest took flight, leaving her heart feeling buoyant. “But what about Nathan?”
His jaw tightened. “I do not like it, Charlotte. I cannot lie.” He pulled away from her, shaking out his shoulders, stretching his arms and neck, which she imagined were tight from both travel and tension. “I have spoken to Fuller. He informs me he’ll have no hand in any future violence. He said, as you did, that he has not sanctioned the machine breaking for quite a while.”
He fixed a hard stare on her. “I gave you my word that I would not turn him in based on his past associations. But I warned him if he breaks the law going forward, I won’t lift a hand to stop him from being hanged.” He grasped her shoulders and held her gaze. “Do you understand me? If we marry, those are the terms I can live with. The question now is, can you? If your brother breaks the law again, you must agree to let the law deal with him without any interference from either of us.”
She nodded tremulously, her heart clamoring. It was a tremendous compromise on Cam’s part and she knew it. “Are you quite sure?” she whispered, still in disbelief. “You must be certain.”
“I am certain that I love you, Charlotte Livingston.” His full, open smile dazzled her. “I love your passion, your honesty, and, yes, even your unswerving loyalty to your brother. I shall be a fortunate man, indeed, if I am the recipient of that level of love and devotion.”
Her heart swelled. She had never truly felt joy until now. “You already have my love and devotion. You have all of me. It has been so from the very first.”
He held out his hand to her. “Come, let us return.”
She put her hand in his, glad for the radiating warmth of his golden presence. He mounted and pulled her up, settling her sidesaddle, the edge of her body up against his. He put the strength of his arms around her, holding her close, urging Hercules on. Twisting to embrace him, she relished the feel of his toned body pushed intimately up against hers.
Cam grasped Charlotte with one arm while his other hand held the ribbons to guide the stallion. He impelled the animal into a run, everything around them passing in a heady blur as they picked up speed. They raced into the still air, summoning a refreshing wind, which blew against them, engulfing both in a sense of runaway rapture. Longing to touch him, she nuzzled his neck. Before long, light kisses gave way to soft nips and licks.
She felt his body react to her caresses. His hand slipped down from its grip on her waist, going to her bottom and lifting her with a forceful gentleness against the strength of his hunger for her. He kissed her, his tongue plundering her as though he could not get enough. She pushed herself against him, famished for more, for the promise of where their passion would propel them.
Pulling his lips from hers, he slowed his mount to an easy walk. “If we persist,” he said against her mouth, his voice hoarse, “we shall have a devil of a time explaining why two experienced riders could not keep their seat.”
She sighed and put her hand up to her hair, tossing her bonnet away so it would not impede their kisses. Her hair pulled loose and fell about her shoulders and waist.
He swallowed hard. “You are a shameless temptress.” Pulling Hercules to a halt, he dropped the ribbons, his hands going to her lustrous hair. He ran them through all the way to her waist before taking her completely into his arms again for a brazen kiss.
He dismounted, pulling her down with him, kissing her as he held her body up against his. He walked her backwards toward an old oak tree with their bodies meshed together, arms intertwined as their mouths devoured each other. His musky, masculine smell engulfed her. He tasted like sunshine and freedom and unlimited possibilities.
Cam dropped down with his back against the tree and pulled her down astride him on his lap. She felt a strong hand on her bottom, and then her skirts were being eased up. His fingers went to her soft folds, and she cried out when he reached the intended spot.
She moaned at his touch, pushing herself towards his hand, needing him beyond all else. He murmured her name when she cried out with pleasure. His fingers drove her to madness, her body on fire and trembling.
His tongue sought hers with intense reaching motions. Charlotte was hungry for all of him. Her hands went to his breeches and pulled at them. Groaning, Cam helped her, pulling at the fastenings, freeing his anxious man’s flesh. She wrapped her fingers around his hardened length, amazed at its
soft-iron feel and rubbed herself over the satiny tip.
Cam almost bucked when she did. He stilled for a moment, looking at her. Wild desire clouded his eyes. “Charlotte,” he said in short, hard gasps. “This is not the place for a lady’s first time. I can’t take you here like a common wench.”
The thought that he might stop was unbearable. “Please, Cam.” She squirmed on top of him, making him groan again.
Steady hands went to her hips stilling her movement. “If you keep doing that, I will be unable to stop.”
She looked at him, the wild tawny hair, the way his carved lower lip grimaced with the effort of stopping. So she moved again, covering his face with nips and kisses. “I’m relieved to hear it. Don’t stop.”
His eyes glittered. “I am nothing if not obedient.” He lifted her while adjusting his own position. Balancing Charlotte atop his hard flesh, he guided her down onto him. She felt him at her entrance and then the full, gloved feel of him coming into her. A sharp pain shot through her. Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep inhale. She hadn’t expected such intense discomfort. How in the world was that supposed to fit inside her? Cam stopped moving. Despite the strain of their coupling, Charlotte’s insides screamed in protest. Her eyes flew open to find that burning amber gaze fixed on her face.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “You are in pain. We’ll stop.” He began to move out of her.
The idea of Cam leaving her made her crazed. “No. Stay with me. Don’t leave me now.”
He brushed tender kisses over her cheekbones and brows. “I will never leave you, Charlotte.”
He froze when she clutched his shoulders and pushed down, blotting out the discomfort until he was completely inside of her. Wanting to see him, she kept her eyes open. Cam watched her face, wincing when she cried out at the burning pain, which signaled the loss of her innocence. Despite the discomfort, the robust feel of him inside of her made Charlotte want to weep with relief.
He seemed to be fighting the urge to move inside her. “Give it a moment,” he soothed. He feathered more kisses along her throat. “Go easy.”
Lost in the sensation of having him inside her, Charlotte didn’t really hear the words. Locking eyes with him, she began to move on instinct. He automatically jerked into her in response. He groaned and seemed to catch himself because he stopped moving again. She did not. She kept moving but had an awkward rhythm and realized she didn’t know what to do. Frustration and some sort of unmet need welled up inside of her.
He seemed to understand. “I’ve got you, my love. I’ve got it.” He gave her a long, intense kiss and then grasped her hips, helping her adjust the rhythm. His capable, long fingers caressed her bottom, guiding her up and down the length of him. She could sense it when he finally let himself really go, thrusting upward through her body.
They moved in a rhythm of the ages, punctuated by soft moans and the primal slapping sounds of hot, wet strokes. Charlotte moved atop him, relishing the feel of him moving inside her, gasping when pleasure seemed to overwhelm her senses. She lost all control when her muscles released, the involuntary contractions shooting through her shuddering womb. Cam kissed her hard when she cried out and the warm ripples of her climax quivered over her body. He pumped furiously into Charlotte, letting out a quiet roar when he released himself inside of her.
Sensation still roiling deliciously through her body, Charlotte closed her eyes, savoring this small, perfect moment when everything in the world was just as it should be. Except for one thing. “Show me how to pleasure you.”
His chest rumbled with amusement. “Oh, you give me great pleasure, Charlotte, unbelievably so.” His mouth closed over hers in a hot, lingering kiss.
“That is not the pleasure I mean.”
“Hmm?” He pulled her bodice down, revealing her modest breasts. His eyes glistened with appreciation. “Such beauties. It wouldn’t do for me not to pay them proper attention.” Lowering his head, he licked across a tender point. “What kind of pleasure do you mean?”
“I happen to know firsthand there is another type of…amorous activity you enjoy.” She squirmed atop him trying not to be distracted by the feel of her nipple between his teeth. Arching into his mouth, she added, “I would like to give you that now.”
He jerked his head up. “Charlotte, it is not necessary,” he said incredulously when he took her meaning. “I cannot fathom a lady such as yourself doing such a thing. Why, you’ve just been introduced to the pleasures of the flesh. I would never ask it of you.”
“You did not ask. I want to.” Triumph surged through her at the feel of his male anatomy firming beneath her bottom. “I don’t want there to be anything you’ve done with another woman that we haven’t experienced together. I do not want any female to have that claim on you.”
“I assure you, no one has ever had a claim on me as you do.” His face softened, taking on a radiant glow. “I love and desire you as I have no other woman.”
Heat shimmered through her chest. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
Wriggling out of his lap, she jumped to her feet and offered him her hand. Taking it, he stood up. “Shall we return?”
“Not just yet.” Pushing him up against the tree, she began to slide down his body. “Show me,” she demanded.
And so he did.
…
“Do tell, Camryn. When do you plan to wed my sister?” asked Hugh Livingston, a shrill undertone to his voice. “I must inform our mother, and there are, of course, the marriage settlement details to be worked out.”
Cam sat with splayed legs in a large leather chair in the billiards room where Shellborne had sought him out. “I’ve arranged for the banns to be read at our parish church at Camryn Hall for the next three Sundays.” Cam swallowed some brandy. “I trust you will do the same at your parish church?”
“Of course.” Shellborne coughed. “There is, of course, the matter of Charlotte’s dowry.”
“Yes.” Cam eyed the swishing dregs inside his brandy glass. “I am not in need of Charlotte’s money. Whatever figure you’ve set aside for her dowry is more than adequate.”
Relief relaxed the baron’s features. “And there is, of course, the issue of pin money.”
The man might be a pest, but Cam appreciated his determination to ensure his sister’s future. “I will arrange for my solicitor to provide a personal annual allowance for Charlotte once she becomes my wife.” He couldn’t wait for that to happen. His mind wandered back to yesterday, when she’d demonstrated what an apt and enthusiastic lover she could be. Then there’d been revelation of Charlotte’s nude form at the pond, where they’d gone for a swim afterward. His mind feasted on the memory of her lean yet surprisingly supple body, smooth expanses of creamy skin punctuated by the soft curves of her hips and round perfection of her pert breasts. “I am sure you will find the allowance to be more than generous,” he heard himself saying.
“Yes, undoubtedly,” said Shellborne. There was an awkward pause. “Furthermore, in the event of your death—”
Cam wondered how soon he could get Charlotte alone again. His guess about her unbridled reaction to passion had been correct. He couldn’t wait to have her again, to hear that little, muffled scream she uttered when she reached her release.
He realized Shellborne was looking at him expectantly. “What? Oh, yes, of course Charlotte and any children we might have will be protected in the event of my death.” Perhaps he could steal into her chamber this evening. He frowned. Hopefully, her other brother didn’t make a habit of climbing into her room at night. Cam certainly didn’t want a repeat of their previous encounter. Last time nothing improper had happened. Tonight, Nathan would have excellent reason to kill him if he came upon them in Charlotte’s chamber.
The changing expressions on Cam’s face seemed to make Shellborne nervous. “She will, naturally, be entitled to the right of dower.”
Cam squinted at Shellborne, trying to focus on what the little, round man had just sa
id. The scrutiny caused Charlotte’s brother to shift uncomfortably in his chair. Cam forced himself to process Shellborne’s words. “Yes, yes. My marchioness will be entitled to one-third of the income from Camryn Hall in the event of my death.” He pushed to his feet, stretching his cramped legs. “However, I will also set aside a generous jointure to assure Charlotte’s complete comfort and financial independence after I am gone. In addition, I will arrange a town home in Mayfair and a country estate for her in the event of my demise. Portions will also be set aside for the children.” He paused, trying to mask his impatience. “Anything else?”
Shellborne took a quick sip of his brandy, which had remained untouched until now. “No. I shall look forward to reviewing the contract once your solicitor draws it up.”
Cam poured himself another brandy. Turning, he held the decanter in Shellborne’s direction. The baron shook his head, declining the silent offer of a refill. “There is another related issue,” Cam said. “Perhaps now is an opportune time to discuss it.”
“What might that be?” Shellborne crossed his arms, before uncrossing them again.
Cam tossed back some brandy, enjoying the warm, smooth feel of the fiery liquid sliding down his throat. “It is in regards to Nathan Fuller.”
“Nathan Fuller?” His tone was as bland as the expression on his face. “The duke’s coachman?”
“And your brother.” Cam strode across the room, dropping into a chair opposite Shellborne. “Let us not waste time by dissembling. I am aware Fuller is your father’s by-blow.”
“I see.” Flushing, Shellborne scratched the thinning, random strands atop of his shiny pate. “I fail to see how that is relevant to anything.”
Cam leaned back, draping his arms over the back of his chair. “Fuller is dear to your sister. Consequently, he is of concern to me.”
“I see.”
“I was wondering, Shellborne, if you approve of Fuller’s political activities?”
“Political activities?” The baron’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
