Seducing Charlotte (17 page)

It was Hartwell who first saw the smoke coming from the manor house itself. Charlotte only realized something was amiss when she heard a thundering, animalistic cry and turned to see the dark duke hurtling toward the manor to where his wife lay, mostly alone and vulnerable, her body impossibly swollen with his child.

Cam sprinted behind Hartwell, his unruly hair more wild than usual, his face glistening with perspiration and his damp white shirt darkened with soot and sweat. Charlotte scrambled after them, but both disappeared in the throng of people.

She could smell the new flames before she saw them, the air laden with the sharp smell of smoke interlaced with a pungent citrus aroma. She reached the orangery in time to see Cam and Hart running in with massive drapes torn down from a nearby formal room. They batted at the blaze, trying to smother the fast-moving flames that licked, threatened, and sometimes succeeded in jumping to a neighboring orange or lemon tree.

Cam threw a chair through one of the palladium windows, shattering the glass. The two men tossed the burning tree plants out of the broken windows. Others, servants and tenants, streamed toward the orangery. Some on the outside had already formed a bucket line, and the containers of water passed through the windows into the orangery to quell the flames. It seemed the duke had spotted the fire in time. He and Cam had managed to confine it mostly to the orangery, preventing the destruction of the massive historic manor.

A bloodcurdling scream rang through the air, and Charlotte immediately recognized it as Willa.

Hartwell knew it too for he raced out of the orangery, rocketing up the massive stairs, his glistening, soot-blackened face a mask of fury and dread. Cam and Charlotte were right on his heels. They tore through the endless corridors towards the family wing where Willa remained on bed rest.

As they rounded the corner near the family apartments, the rancid smell of smoke assaulted Charlotte’s nostrils. The smell of fire clearly emanated from the vicinity of Willa’s chambers. She choked back a sob. What if they were already too late? Then a shadow came around the corner, followed by the sight of Nathan, disheveled and damp with perspiration, carrying a moaning Willa in his arms.

The duke cursed and reached for his wife. Nathan lowered his eyes as he handed Willa into her husband’s anxious arms.

Charlotte rushed to her side. “Are you all right?”

Willa coughed. “Yes, yes, it was the smoke. I was overcome.” She looked up into her husband’s worried face. “I screamed when I saw the flames. Truly, I am fine.” A group of house servants who had rushed up after them now stood in the hallway, a respectful distance away.

Cam turned to them. “There is a fire in the family wing. Quickly, another water line.”

“No,” said Nathan.

Cam’s face hardened. “No?”

“What I mean to say is there is no need.” Nathan rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead. “I managed to put out the fire. It was just the curtains in Her Grace’s chamber.”

Suspicion gleamed in Cam’s amber eyes. “And what, pray tell, were you doing here? What business do you have in the family wing, much less Her Grace’s
bedchamber
?”

Anger and resentment flashed across Nathan’s face. His retort was drowned out by a cry from Willa. She writhed in Hartwell’s arms, clutching her stomach, her face contorted in pain.

The duke blanched. He strode across the hallway and kicked open the door to the nearest guest chamber. “Mrs. Chalmers,” he bellowed to the housekeeper as he entered the room with Willa in his arms. “Have this chamber prepared for Her Grace.” The housekeeper scurried in after the duke while Nathan hurried down the hallway and around the corner.

Charlotte rushed after her brother, alarm filling her chest as she swept down the stairs after him. “Nathan. Nathan!”

He halted abruptly. “What is it?”

“What is going on?” she asked trying to catch her breath. “Why were you in the duchess’s bedchamber?”

“I went to save her.” He looked around to see if they were alone and then led Charlotte a few steps back into the empty, darkened library. Closing the door for privacy, he said, “This was no accident, Charlotte. It was a Luddite attack.”

“No.” Shaking her head with disbelief, she put a hand to her chest. “How can you know? You cannot mean you are a part of this.”

His face darkened. “Of course not. I saw faces I recognized in the crowd.”

“Machine breakers,” she breathed.

“Yes, and one was headed for the main house. I knew he meant to cause harm.”

Relief flowed through her. “Thank God you got to Willa in time.”

“Do you have so little trust in me, Lottie?” His voice was gentle in its reproach. “Did you really think Ned Ludd had taken up the cause again?”

Guilt scoured her chest. “No, of course not, forgive me. It’s been such a trying evening.”

“You weren’t alone in thinking it.” He rubbed the side of his head wearily. “Some of the Ludders who saw me this evening didn’t realize I’m now the head coachman here. Like you, they surmised I’d come back to lead the charge.”

“They still see you as their leader. You are Ned Ludd. There can be no other.”

A dark emotion passed over Nathan’s face. “It is well past time for Ned Ludd to vanish forever and truly become a myth.” He looked at her with troubled eyes. “I never wanted any of this, Charlotte. I just wanted justice.”

“I know.”

“This,” he gestured into the air with his hand, “is not what I had expected. The violence, the killing—” His voice trailed off before turning brisk and businesslike. “I must go. The fire is under control, but I must sort out whether we lost any animals and where to house the ones that survived.” With a quick peck on Charlotte’s cheek, Nathan slipped out of the library.

She sensed another presence before she actually saw him. Unease shivered through her, the hair on the back of her neck tingled. Forcing herself to turn around with as much calm as she could muster, she peered into the dim recesses of the long, rectangular room. Like almost everything at Fairview Manor, the two-story library was oversize and impressive, with stocked bookshelves soaring up the two floors.

Her searching gaze finally found him as he slipped from behind the stairs which lead to the library’s second floor.

Shadows fell across the worn and disheveled figure. His amber hair was even more rumpled than usual, and his soiled, white lawn shirt hung loose over his trousers. He watched her through lowered lids, with the deceptively lazy gaze of a predator in repose.

“Cam.” Her scalp tingled. “I did not see you there.”

“Obviously.” He took a slow, menacing gait toward her.

She took a reflexive step back. “What are you doing here?”

“I was following your brother. When I heard you coming behind me, I slipped inside here to stay out of the way.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. It appears I was correct to be suspicious of the man.”

Terror rained down inside of her. He’d overhead everything.

He watched her face intently. “Why did you not tell me, my dear, that I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting the illustrious and most elusive Ned Ludd?”

Chapter Sixteen

The underlying ice in his voice chilled Charlotte’s soul. Gone was the twinkling amusement she adored in his sunlit green eyes, replaced by a hard stare that pierced her heart.

“I was trying to find a way to tell you,” she said, surprised at how calm her voice sounded.

“Obviously you didn’t try hard enough.”

“What good would it have done?”

“What good?” His carved features contorted in anger. Lunging at her with the swift agility of a mountain cat, he grabbed her arm, hauling her to him. She went willingly, knowing he would never harm her. Not physically at least. She could smell liquor on him, intermingled with the musky, masculine aura that never failed to captivate her. Even now.

“It is a pity, is it not, my dear, that I did not learn of this before your brother and his ilk burned the stables down.” His mouth was just by her ear, his hot breath a rough caress. “The rafters there would have been ideal for slipping a noose around your brother’s neck and watching him swing.”

Despair gutted through Charlotte, an anguished sound escaped her. A shadow crossed Cam’s face. Abruptly releasing her arm, he strode over to pour himself a drink. Charlotte watched his back, the way the sleek turn of muscle rippled under the fine lawn of his shirt.

He turned back toward her, bitter disillusionment etched in his face. “I should have put it all together myself. Ned Ludd is known to be from Leicester. Fuller is from Leicester. The mythical idiot, Ned Ludd, worked at a mill there, as did your brother.” Cam raised his glass in a mock salute, emotion glazing his eyes. “But he is no idiot, is he, Charlotte? That is where we got the story wrong.” He gave a ragged laugh and threw back more drink, grimacing as he swallowed. “Congratulations, my dear, on a game well played.”

Her hands curled into fists, the nails digging into her skin. “Cam, what will you do to him now?”

Uttering a low curse, he pivoted to hurl his glass against the wall. The shattering sound exploded into the air, the scattering shards tinkling away. She backed away when he stalked toward her with glittering eyes.

Alarm flooded her and she could think of nothing but warning her brother. Spinning around, she dashed for the door, her heart blasting in her chest. Cam’s boots pounded behind her, closing in. She reached the door, blinded by tears, and tried to pull it open with jerky, panicked movements. Cam slammed up behind her. Thrusting both of his palms against the door, he boxed her in, effectively preventing her from leaving.

“Do you think to go and warn him?” His despairing whisper sliced through her. “Is it always him you think of first, Charlotte? Even now?”

“Let me go,” she gasped, her back to him, her forehead resting against the dark, cool wood of the door. “You have made it quite clear that I am now beneath your touch.”

Pushing his body up against hers, he forced Charlotte flat against the door. “Oh, hardly that. Hardly that.” Pained bitterness tinged his voice. His hips were against the small of her back and she shivered at the feel of his obvious arousal. Her body reacted almost violently, with a ravening need to be joined with him.

For one last time.

To push away whatever shattering inevitability awaited them on the other side of the massive wooden door. She knew better than anyone what Cam would be compelled to do once he left this room. And they both understood she could never forgive him for it.

Turning to face him, Charlotte let out a cry of need, her hands going to the sides of his hips to bring him closer to her. She melded herself against him, trying to assuage her hunger. Cam’s questioning eyes burned into hers.

“Yes,” she whispered, her pulse slamming against her skin. “Now.”

Surprise flickered in his face.
“Do not allow this. Tell me to stop.”

She shook her head. “I want no more pretenses between us.”

Abandoning any show of gentlemanly restraint, he made quick work of her bodice, shoving down the delicate fabric of her shift and the lace of her stays, leaving her bare to his gaze. Cool air bathed the engorged pink tips of her pale mounds.

He lifted her up against the wall and anchored her there. His head came down to ravish her softness. He took one bud into his mouth and toyed with it, suckling her, his teeth skimming the sensitive point.

Wrapping her legs around Cam’s hips, she welcomed the feel of his hard flesh against her bare thigh. She clawed at his shirt, pulling it out of his breeches. Anxious to feel his skin, her hands slid up the smooth warmth of his back.

He pulled his lips away, watching his long fingers caress her breasts, their tips slick and glistening from his mouth. Handling them almost reverently, his deft fingers continued their sensuous assault.

Then he was unfastening his breeches. She half sobbed with relief when his manhood sprang out, stiff and massive, impossibly ready. Grabbing the skirt of her mangled dress, he bunched it around Charlotte’s waist. Then he cupped her buttocks, clasping her bare skin in his firm, strong grip.

The moment Cam’s hard arousal breeched her, Charlotte’s greedy body clutched him, drawing him further in. With a quiet roar, he slipped into her in one quick stroke. She cried out, the fullness of being joined with him banishing the desolation inside of her. Cam thrust into her with a ferocity they both craved. Her body softened, taking as much of him inside her as she could. Both moved in a frenzy, their bodies quickly finding a matching rhythm.

His tongue plundered Charlotte’s mouth. His unshaven face abraded hers, stinging her sensitive skin. She kissed him back hard, intertwining her tongue with his, tasting the lingering brandy and the depth of their shared desperation.

Pounding against each other, they exploded together, a wild and noisy climax, crying out with relief as sensation crashed over them in powerful waves. They stilled for a moment, panting and intertwined, slick with perspiration. Charlotte’s body pulsated, her legs quivered.

Still intimately connected, Cam buried his face in her neck. “Did I hurt you?” he murmured, his voice thick with remorse.

She shook her head, unable to speak, her eyelids burning with unshed tears. Charlotte clasped him to her, both loving and hating him all at once because of what he would do next.

He released her with a tenderness that made her want to weep. Cradling her jaw with warm fingers, Cam brushed a kiss over her lips, this one gentle and sweet. He lingered as if savoring her taste, then stepped back to fasten his breeches.

He tucked his shirt into his breeches, watching her as she
pulled her chemise up to cover herself
.
She knew she looked awful with her hair askew and tousled about her shoulders. Her lips felt swollen and her cheeks on fire from where his unshaven face had scraped her tender skin.

A knock sounded on the door behind her. “Miss Livingston?” came the tentative voice of Clara, Willa’s maid.

“Yes.” Clearing her emotion-swollen throat, she struggled to put her bodice to rights. “Just a moment.”

“It is Her Grace, ma’am,” Clara said talking through the door. “It is her time. The babe is coming, and she’s asking for you.”

“Yes, of course,” she called back. “Please tell the duchess I’ll attend her soon.”

Cam’s inscrutable gaze flickered over her, then shifted, and he seemed very far away. “I must go as well.”

His tone was polite, distant, as though he had already left her. Cam’s warm hand moved over her shoulder to ease her away from the exit.

She swallowed hard, a useless attempt to ease the strangled feeling in her throat. “What will you do now?”

“You know what I must do.” Regret glinted his eyes. “It would be wrong of me to allow more people to die
when it is within my power to put a halt to the violence.”

He reached for the door and hesitated, turning to lock gazes with her. The fine creases around his sunlit green eyes seemed to have deepened overnight. “But also know this. There will never be another woman for me. I have already taken you to wife in every way that matters. When you leave me, there will be no other. You are the wife of my heart.”

She choked back a sob, her heart swelling until it felt too big for her chest. She could almost appreciate the irony of it—the reformed rake faithful to a phantom bride.

Cam pulled the door open and slipped out without giving her another look. The sound of his boots clicked a persistent beat on the marble floors as he strode away.

Listening to the sound of his footsteps grow ever lighter, Cam’s words from that afternoon not so long ago ricocheted in her head. There was one way, he’d said, to quash the burgeoning Luddite movement. “
You must cut off the head of the snake
.
Ned Ludd must hang.”

Sorrow exploded inside of her chest. Sliding to the floor with her back against the door, a sob erupted from her chest, and she let grief overwhelm her.

…

Several endless hours later, after Willa delivered a healthy son, Charlotte went in search of her brother. She’d looked desperately for Nathan before attending to the birth, but he’d been nowhere to be found. She could only hope now that he’d escaped before Cam had run him to ground.

When she didn’t find him at the destroyed stable or the barn where the horses were being housed temporarily, anxiety stretched hard in her chest. She returned to the house to find Digby overseeing the cleanup of the solarium.

“Have you, by any chance, seen the coachman?” she asked the butler, her heart pounding.

“No, ma’am, not since he rode out early this morning with the marquess.”

Her heart faltered. “Mister Fuller left with Lord Camryn?”

“Yes, miss. Just after my lord summoned the constable.”

The band of anxiety around her chest tightened, squeezing the air out of her. “Where did they go?”

“He’s gone.” Cam’s sure, steady voice sounded from behind her. “And he’s not coming back.”

She turned to face him. He looked like he’d ridden hard, his face bronzed from too much sun, weariness deepening the lines in his face. His riding clothes were wrinkled, his boots dusty from the road.

“You sent him away.”

He nodded gravely. “I took care of everything.”

Anguish filled her chest. She’d known to expect it. But, until this moment, Charlotte realized she hadn’t truly believed Cam would go through with it. At her core, she hadn’t thought him capable of wounding her so deeply and irreparably. What a fool she was.

Stumbling past him, desperate to get away, she ran blindly through the hallway. Nathan was gone. Perhaps had already been hanged. Had his life been taken at the very moment she’d helped bring new life into the world?

“Charlotte.” Cam’s urgent voice broke through the grief pounding in her ears. “Charlotte, wait!”

Stopping, she turned abruptly and flew at him, anguished fury ripping her insides. “Wait for what? What is there left to say?” She pounded his chest with both fists. “I know you summoned the constable.”

“Calm yourself.” He caught her wrists in a gentle grip. “I must tell you what has become of Nathan.”

“Do you think I care to hear the details? Haven’t you done enough?” Pressure pushed down on her chest. She couldn’t breathe. Breaking loose from his grip, she turned and staggered to the terrace doors, eager to get outside. Maybe she could draw a breath in the fresh air.

She ran into the garden and bent over, with her hands on her knees, gasping the warm, still air into her flattened lungs.

Cam ran up behind her. “Charlotte, love—”

“Stop.” Bending over, she struggled for breath. Her skin felt like it was being stretched inside out. “I beg of you. Please just let me alone.”

“I thought you might like to know where your brother is.”

“Must you paint a vivid picture of Nathan swinging from a tree?”

“More like sailing on a ship.”

“I hate you—” Her words stumbled. “Sailing on a…what?”

Cam’s voice gentled. “Fuller has decided to seek his fortune in the West Indies.”

“What do you mean?” She straightened and peered into Cam’s face. “How is that possible?”

“As we speak, he is on one of my trading vessels, which should be pulling out to sea at any moment.”

She drew a big gulp of air that soothed her desperate lungs. “But Digby said the constable came.”

“And informed me that there would be no trial once Ludd was apprehended. He’d have been strung up to the nearest tree as an example to all of the other agitators.”

“You didn’t turn him in when you had the chance?”

“And allow them to make a gruesome spectacle of him? He’d have faced a hangman’s noose without benefit of a trial. What manner of justice would that have been?”

The truth hit her with a head-dizzying rush. “Nathan is free?” she whispered, hardly able to believe it.

He nodded. “I accompanied him part of the way to the port. Once Mister Fuller arrives on the islands, he’ll find a clerical job awaiting him at our West Indies shipping offices. As it happens, I’ve just become a partner with the duke in that operation.”

She shook her head, trying in vain to sharpen her dazed mind. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It won’t be long before Mister Fuller is comfortably settled into his new life.”

A mammoth wave of relief almost swept her off her feet. Cam’s arm shot out to lend her strength.

“So as you can see,” he said, “all is well.”

“Yes,” she echoed, still unable to trust the feeling of joy beginning to swell in her chest. “All is well.”