Alex looked at the woman in front of him with wonder. He was only barely in control. This woman with her tossed black curls and rosy mouth moved him like no woman he had ever met. The only thought in his mind was to sweep her into his arms and carry her over to the sofa.

He noted with satisfaction that a pulse was beating wildly in her neck. Charlotte was not impervious to him either. “Shall I summon your butler to introduce us,” he said calmly, “or is a mutual tumble on the staircase enough?”

Charlotte bit her lip, trying not to laugh aloud. “My lord,” she said, but at that moment the doors to the Green Room swung open.

Campion’s ample form appeared in the doorway. “Lord Holland,” he announced sententiously.

Oh bother, Charlotte thought.

But Alex’s head had jerked up at Campion’s voice. “Will!” he positively shouted, and strode forward.

Charlotte swung around to find the two men beating each other on the back. Charlotte glanced back and met Pippa’s eyes, curious to see whether she screamed at every person who entered the room. But Pippa had simply returned to tangling sofa tassels, without a second look at Lord Holland.

Alex caught Charlotte’s glance. “No, she distinguishes between the sexes. It’s women she can’t stand,” he added hastily, “at the moment, of course.”

Will Holland was trying to figure out what was happening. His carriage was outside, loaded with delicacies for a picnic al fresco with Charlotte. Moreover, in his pocket was nestled a small but exquisite circle of diamonds, once his mother’s, which he hoped to bestow upon Charlotte. But here was Charlotte, unchaperoned except for a small child, with an old friend whom he thought was still in Italy. And she looked—well, she looked kissed. Her mouth was rosy and her cheeks flushed; Will’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. The last thing he wanted was to be in competition with an earl, for God’s sake.

Still, like the rest of London, he knew that Alexander’s first wife had annulled their marriage on grounds of impotence. He had found it hard to believe, given acute memories of nights in the best London brothels, accompanied by Alexander and his brother, Patrick. Why, he distinctly remembered opening the wrong door, in a very select establishment maintained by a woman known as Serena—and Alex definitely hadn’t been impotent at that point.

“Lady Charlotte,” he said easily, holding out his hand. “Are you prepared to join me for our picnic?”

“Oh, dear,” said Alex with mock sadness. “Now, that is precisely the occasion for which I arrived here. And Lady Charlotte has been explaining to me that she has a miserable memory, and so she accidentally promised to accompany both of us.”