“Well atleast you know I have a home in Scotland.” Sutton clapped his hands at herrecital. Greedy, greedy, Caro. She made the Prussian mercenarieslook like schoolchildren. “I’m sure you know my income from each as well, do younot?”
She smiledand proceeded to tell him. She stood and strode over to him, her hipsswaying and a lascivious look in her eye. The chemise floated about herhips. Her nipples, small and dusky, pointed through the thin silk.Smooth, white arms, wrapped around Sutton’s neck as she kissed him on thecheek. “See! I do know everything about you.” She shook her head asif he were a naughty child.
Sutton musedthat Caro was no better or no worse than any other woman of her station.Groomed from childhood to be the ornamental wife of a wealthy, titled man, Carosimply did as she was trained to do. When Sutton was no more than achild, Jeanette, his stepmother, reminded him on a daily basis that Sutton’sonly value in this world, his only meaning to others, was as heir toCambourne. Oh, he was beautiful, Jeanette would admit, women would adorehim, want him and he would have no lack of lovers. No Marquess had a lackof lovers. Cambourne was everything, and without the estate and title, Sutton wasnothing. Jeanette would remind him that Cambourne didn’t actuallybelong to Sutton. Not really. She knew the truth. As soon asshe produced a son, well Sutton would be sent off to the army in India or someother place. Robert would want his real heir, an heir Jeanette wouldproduce, to inherit Cambourne. Robert, his father, regarded Sutton as a duty,an obligation and would expect Sutton to do the right thing.
Sutton tookanother long, draught of the brandy, praying for the dark liquid to do its workand numb him to the past. Jeanette was a greedy, ambitious, depraved bitch.He witnessed the depth of her depravity with his own eyes. She beggedSutton, her ice blue eyes spilling with tears, to not tell Robert. Shecarried a son, Robert’s heir, she was sure of it. Jeanette pleaded withSutton to spare the unborn child the censure it would endure if Sutton toldRobert. What about Miranda, Sutton’s adored younger sister? Shewould be spat upon. Shunned. Jeanette was the only mother Sutton had everknown and if he had an ounce of love for her, he would leave England neverconfessing Jeanette’s accidental step to Robert. Sutton loved her then.He did as she asked and left for Macao. What a fool he had been. Hedeserted Miranda and left his new born sister, Elizabeth all because of thatharpy.
Suttongently set the brandy glass down on the table. The brandy failed to warmthe chill in his heart.
Caro waited,her face turned up to his, waiting for his declaration of…love? Caro remindedhim so much of Jeanette at that moment he found it difficult to look at her.
He pulledCaro’s arms from around his neck, pushed her body away from him. “You need toleave, Caro. Do you require assistance?” He pointed to her gown,crumpled and lying on the floor. “Or can you manage? I can call one ofthe maids if you wish.” Jeanette’s wounds on his soul reopened, freshlybleeding. Bitterness and resentment soured the taste of brandy on histongue.
Caro’s mouthgaped open, fishlike, then closed abruptly. She trembled, but her eyesremained hard on him.
Sutton knewCaro told nearly everyone in thetonthat he was about to offer forher. She took out credit, telling merchants all over London she would bethe future Marchioness of Cambourne. She had done it all with poor Lord Danverson her arm. Sutton felt no pity for her.
Caro’s perfectporcelain complexion flushed until it turned mottled and red. She stoodtall. Staring down her patrician nose she gave him a haughty look, andlifted her chin.
“Are youcasting me off? Dismissing me?” Her voice remained cool. “Don’tbe a fool. Danvers will offer for me in an instant. He wants meterribly. Do you want him to have this?” She pulled down the chemise,baring her large breasts, the nipples erect. “We have an understanding, Sutton.Everyone knows that.” Her blue eyes watered in the most fetching manner.
“Do we?”He looked her straight in the eye, trying desperately to keep the disgust hefelt for her out of his words. “I believe you are mistaken, ormisunderstood.” He picked up the brandy glass intending to refillit. “Good day, Lady Fellowes.”
Caro reeledback against the couch as if he slapped her. “Oh come now, Cam,” shecajoled, “surely, you can overlook a minor transgression with ViscountLindley. It was a kiss. He took advantage.”
“This hasnothing to do with Viscount Lindley. Although I do admire you forattempting to become a duchess as well as a marchioness.”
Caro’s facecontorted into a mask of ugliness. Her lip curled into a sneer. “Bastard.”She said the word slowly, emphasizing the syllables.
Suttonhalted, the glass held mid-air. Brandy sloshed out. He could feel the heat risein his cheeks. He nearly killed a man recently for inferring the samething about his parentage. How dare she?
Caro gave a shortnasty bark. “Oh yes, all thetonknows. Did daddy really marryyour lowly born mother before you were born or after? What side of theblanket did Sutton come into the world on?” Caro’s voice wasbrittle. “Avicar’sdaughter, a nobody. Some tart who wasyour father’s mistress! Little better than a whore. Who marries theirmistress?”
A horriblerage built inside Sutton at Caro’s words. He knew about the scandalthat surrounded his birth, mostly he ignored it, and sometimes he made anexample of the person stupid enough to challenge him with it. There was noproof of his birth prior to his parents marrying. None. Hewas the Marquess of Cambourne. He doubted anyone alive knew the realtruth except the Dowager. The gossip would have died but forJeanette. She planted the seeds of the rumor when Sutton was achild. Nourished the scandal when she carried his sisters, hoping shewould give birth to a son and Sutton would be pushed aside. He should have senthis stepmother to exile the moment he returned to England. But hehadn’t. Instead he tolerated the whispers, tolerated his nickname. But hewouldnothear a word against his mother. Not Madeline.Robert Reynolds grieved Madeline’s loss every day of hislife. His father kept a miniature of Madeline in his pocketwith him always. His father’s last breath on this earth had beenhername. Madeline may have only been a vicar’s daughter, not wealthy, ortitled, but she had been deeply loved. Something the pampered, spoiledbitched in front of him would never understand. Madeline deservedrespect. The woman who stood smugly before him wasn’t good enough tospeakhis mother’s name. Whatever brief affection or kindness he felt forCaro died.
“Treadcarefully, Caro.”
Caro backedaway from the threat in Sutton’s voice.
“Oh my God.I. You. I was just angry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean.”
“Yes youdid. I’ll be sure and remember you to my grandmother.” Sutton knew thatwas petty of him, to threaten her social standing. His grandmother couldruin Caro with a flick of her cane.
Caropaled.
“McMannishwill escort you out.” Sutton pulled the bell cord and the butlerimmediately opened the door. The damned Scot was probably listening atthe door.
“Sir?”McMannish kept his eyes focused on Sutton’s face, choosing to ignore thescantily clad, red-faced Caro.
“Please haveLady Fellowes’ carriage brought around. She is leaving.Immediately.”
McMannish raiseda bushy brow at the evident disrespect in Sutton’s tone, but merely nodded andleft the room.
Caro jerkedher gown over her head. He’d long suspected Caro would be a completebitch if thwarted, but never did he think her stupid enough to disparageMadeline Reynolds to his face.
McMannishstepped back into the study.
“Um.My lady. Your cloak.” He held it out to her, careful to keep his eyesaverted from her state of undress.
