that offends you, but rather the fact that I would allow a man who is socially beneath me to take certain liberties, is that it?”
A pang of jealousy quickened in Cam at the memory of Charlotte in Nathan’s embrace. “You play a dangerous game, Miss Livingston. You risk shredding your reputation by having a blatant dalliance with a groom.”
Her eyes flashed. She tugged the neckline of her dress upward, the movement drawing Cam’s attention to her décolletage, which heaved with delightful indignation. He pictured those enticing white orbs bouncing out of her gown so he could cup each soft, warm handful.
“Hardly a stable boy. Nathan is a grown man who also happens to be Hartwell’s coachman. He is coachman to a duke and is entrusted with many responsibilities, including the oversight of all of the other grooms and stable boys.”
Cam’s thoughts left her bosom. “ How enlightening. I am quite aware of the duties of a coachman. After all, I do employ one myself.” His mouth twisted. “Hartwell’s esteemed coachman clearly has a fondness for you. Perhaps you’ve given him cause to hope a baron’s daughter would welcome the advances of a coachman.”
“So it is Nathan’s low birth which offends your gentlemanly sensibilities.” Ice formed over Charlotte’s vibrant eyes. “Perhaps you would find it more acceptable for me to dally with, say, a marquess?”
He stiffened at the implication. Looking into her endless eyes, he realized Charlotte Livingston had the amazing capacity to both annoy and arouse him at the same time. “There is no need for vulgarity, Miss Livingston.”
“I see. Nathan’s fondness for me is vulgar, while your propensity toward garden activities with married ladies is what, exactly?”
“There you are, Lord Camryn.” A honeyed voice interrupted. Cam suppressed a groan as Maria Fitzharding swept towards them, pausing to give Charlotte a quick, dismissive glance before focusing her full attention on him. “My lord, I understand Lord Fulsome-Thrusby’s portrait gallery is simply not to be missed.”
Charlotte stiffened. Her cool gaze rolled over Maria’s full curves and overly generous breasts, which lurched in his direction. Her perusal swept upwards to Maria’s full mouth before she flushed and diverted her eyes.
Maria fluttered her dark lashes. “Perhaps you would care to escort me. I understand a stroll through Fulsome-Thrusby’s gallery can be most stimulating.” The obvious implication of her invitation hung in the air.
Cam sketched a bow. “Of course, my dear. I would be delighted.” He turned to Charlotte. “Perhaps Miss Livingston would care to join us?”
Maria, who seemed to have forgotten Charlotte’s presence, glanced over at her. “Oh, yes, yes of course,” she said with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. “Do join us Miss Livingston.”
To his satisfaction, something akin to jealously flared in Charlotte’s eyes. “I’ve seen quite enough…of the gallery. But by all means, please do go and enjoy yourselves.”
Chapter Six
It finally felt like summer in London. The days grew warm and sunny, and were sometimes punctuated by light rain showers. With the season all but ended, the most prominent families had already made the annual exodus to the country.
Charlotte had decided to accept Willa’s invitation to spend the remainder of the summer at Fairview Manor. The duke and duchess had already removed to the country, having left the city early to accommodate Willa’s fast-approaching period of confinement. Hugh planned to escort Charlotte to Fairview in a few days’ time.
She was sitting in the upstairs family room at Shellborne House on one of those last lazy days in London when a footman knocked to inform her that Hugh requested her presence in the drawing room. Making her way there, she wondered why she’d been summoned.
Her brother’s florid, beaming face greeted her when she entered the chamber. “Ah, here she is now,” he said to a