Free In the Bed of a Duke by Cathy Maxwell

shaken.
    He wanted Miss Cameron. He wanted to bury himself deep within her. Just the thought of it made him as hard as an iron rod.
    Phillip plunged his hands up to his elbows in the icy stream. The cold had no impact on his lust.
    Dear God, what had come over him?
    Elizabeth had been a dutiful wife, but she’d not liked the carnal side of marriage. Out of respect to her, Phillip had kept his needs contained. He had control over himself.
    But Miss Cameron wasn’t Elizabeth. She wasn’t fragile. Indeed, if her response to his earlier kiss was any indication, she’d give as good as she got.
    Phillip lowered his head to the icy stream at just the thought and splashed water on his face. He had to keep his wits about him.
    He reminded himself that in spite of her advanced age, and willing kisses, Miss Cameron was quite obviously an innocent. The pull between them was strong, but not so much that he would compromise her virtue.
    He couldn’t bed her. He had to send her back to London. It was the right and honorable thing to do. Besides, if word escaped about their Scottishholiday together, she would truly be ruined, and all of her dreams of respectability would be lost because Phillip would not marry her. Not after the scandal of Miranda.
    Admiring a Cameron and trusting one were two separate and distinct things. London would go whirling off its axis if the scandalmongers even had a hint that he and Charlotte had been traveling together, and he’d had enough of being the object of gossip for one lifetime. It would not happen again.
    Besides, Miss Cameron might have many charms but she didn’t have the requisite sense of class his duchess would need. Phillip had overlooked that trait once when he’d offered for Miranda and had paid a dear price. Never again would he join the ranks of those men foolish enough to compromise their public authority by chasing bits of muslin.
    Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t admire her. And, if he were a less principled man, he wouldn’t hesitate to take complete advantage of their situation.
    Of course, he’d first have to ensure there were no pistols or knitting needles close at hand.
    This thought made him smile.
    Charlotte . He even liked the sound of her name. It was like a whisper.
    But she was not for him.
    Finally certain he had his baser emotions in hand, Phillip walked back to the hayrick in good spirits and would have stayed that way save for the sight of Miss Charlotte Cameron standing by the door in the moonlight reading Nanny Frye’s letter.

Chapter 5
    C harlotte could not believe what she was reading. The moonlight had to be playing tricks on her. She strained her eyes as she reread the cramped writing two, then three times, her mind struggling to grasp the full import of the words.
    Colster had a twin brother? An older one who everyone had thought had died but had been kidnapped by Laird MacKenna?
    When she’d caught Colster reading this letter, and then scrambling to hide the fact of it from her, her curiosity could not be stopped.
    Besides, he’d left the letter out…sort of. She’d not had to go digging around in his pockets for it.
    And, reading it, she understood why he didn’t want her to know of it. This brother would have been the duke. The rightful duke. The letter explained why he was traipsing around Scotlandby himself and why he was so tense, not that he needed an excuse.
    A cloud crossed the moon, blocking all light—
    No, not a cloud. Colster .
    Charlotte’s throat went dry. She raised her gaze.
    He pulled the letter from her fingers. She’d never seen him look so grim. “Curiosity is one of your failing virtues,” he said.
    “The writing was hard to read,” she said, fear, and guilt, making her voice faint.
    “But you read it,” he said with certainty.
    His voice was so quiet. He was angry. Very angry.
    “You said we were enemies,” she reminded him by way of a justification. “I caught you hiding it. I meant only to protect myself and my