Before he could speak, Pen leveled a glare upon him. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Doing?” A guilty flush rose in his cheeks. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.” She folded her arms and regarded him with a stern expression that made him feel about six. “You looked at Cam like you wanted to poison him.”
“Poison’s a woman’s weapon,” Harry responded with unconvincing humor.
“You always liked him.”
“So did you,” Harry retorted.
“I still do.” She looked surprised and if he wasn’t mistaken, uncomfortable. “He’s a good man.”
Harry grunted. Five minutes ago, he’d burned to punch the duke’s nose. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“He’s a good man, Harry,” she repeated adamantly. “And I won’t have family discord. Nor will I become a martyr to gossip. There’s been enough talk about both the Thornes and the Rothermeres. You’ll have to put on a better face than you’ve managed tonight. And quickly. People notice.”
“Pen!” He tugged her into a tight embrace. Briefly he’d glimpsed the forthright woman he remembered. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
She struggled free and patted her hair. “You’re quite mad.”
She could call him a lunatic a hundred times as long as she lost that gray aura. “It runs in the family.”
“Ha ha,” she said. The mocking sound pleased his ears the way a harmonious chord pleased Elias. “Now if you can bring yourself to act like a gentleman and not a grumpy bear, let’s find my husband and make our farewells.”
He had more on his mind tonight than the state of his sister’s marriage. “Wait.”
Impatiently she paused. “What is it?”
“Have you thought about what we talked about?”
“No.”
It was Harry’s turn to be annoyed. “It’s important.”
“Harry, you’re so young—”
“I won’t change,” he said steadily.
He saw the moment she realized that this wasn’t a passing attraction. She sighed. “Leath won’t let you near his sister. You’re asking for an ocean of heartbreak.”
“I don’t care. I love her,” he said stubbornly. “I want you to help me to see Sophie. Leath won’t watch you. You can carry messages.”
“Like a sneak.”
“Like a loving sister.”
Pen looked hunted. “Is Sophie back?”
“She returns next week. The aunt is in Edinburgh for some lecture series so Leath wants Sophie under his eye.”
“I thought communication between you two was cut.”
He shrugged. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
“You’re reckless.”
“Faint heart never won fair lady.”
“If you’re not careful, your rashness will bring a scandal down around our ears. Cam doesn’t deserve it. And if you think Leath won’t resent me for promoting this illicit flirtation, you’re a blockhead.”
Harry’s jaw firmed. “I’ve considered the arguments. I can even bring myself to agree with a few of them. Sometimes.”
She looked relieved. “Then stop this before someone gets hurt.”
“Never,” Harry said adamantly. “Nothing will convince me that Sophie’s better off married to a man who doesn’t love her. A man she doesn’t love.”
“I suppose she fancies herself in love with you.” Pen considered him. “I’ll concede that you’re serious. But she’s young too.”
“She knows her heart. With all the trouble involved, it would be easier to give me up.”
“Perhaps she’s swept up in the excitement. Secret meetings and the drama of family opposition can turn a chit’s head.”
“It’s not like that,” Harry said obstinately. “Sophie loves me. We’re going to get married.”
Pen sighed again. “Over Leath’s dead body. I don’t know the man, but everything I’ve heard says that he won’t yield. If he’s decided you’re not the right husband for his sister, you’ll never get his approval.”
“Then we’ll act without his approval,” Harry said sharply, causing a footman stacking chairs at the other side of the empty room to glance up.
Pen looked shocked. “Harry, you’ll ruin us all.”
He sucked in a breath and lowered his voice. “Right now, all I want is a chance to see Sophie.” He read his sister’s reaction. “You have my word that my intentions are honorable. You won’t be assisting a rake’s stratagems.”
Pen’s expression was pensive and something went on behind her eyes that he didn’t understand. Then to his relief, after a long delay that had him nervous as a cat on a stove, she nodded. “Very well. For the moment, you have my cooperation. God help us if this comes undone.”
“What did Harry want?” Cam demanded, once they were in their carriage away from listening ears.
Nervously Pen glanced across at him. Of course that perfect gentleman Camden Rothermere sat with his back to the horses. God forbid he should ignore etiquette and sit beside her.
“Well?”
Pen was grateful that the lamps inside the carriage remained unlit for the short journey to Rothermere House. Cam always knew when she lied.
“You’re sounding very lordly,” she responded, bristling at his tone. And eager to evade the question.
Her eyes had adjusted enough to see him fold his arms across his powerful chest. She didn’t need to see his expression. It would inevitably be implacable. “Humor me.”
“Why should he want anything? After all, we’ve been separated for the best part of ten years.”
“If he didn’t want anything, you’d tell me.”
Devil take him, he had a point. Pen reminded herself that she’d promised obedience. Still, she couldn’t betray her brother. “What do you think he said, Cam?”
Cam stretched his long legs across the well between the seats. He’d looked magnificent tonight. Tall and distinguished, a striking man even in the company of spectacular Richard Harmsworth. Pen had fought desperately hard to hide her bedazzlement. Unfortunately, she had a feeling she’d overcompensated and convinced Cam’s friends that she didn’t care a fig for him.
Genevieve had been friendly and Richard had always been a darling. Sidonie and Jonas Merrick clearly thought that Cam’s marriage was a mistake.
She reminded herself that anything, even a cold reception from Cam’s friends, was better than the exposure of her secret. How the world would laugh at the awkward duchess unable to hide her adoration for her indifferent husband. Worse, Cam would feel sorry for her.
“Tonight I heard a disturbing rumor that Harry sets his sights on Leath’s sister,” Cam said.
“I don’t know Leath or his sister,” Pen responded with perfect honesty. To hide how her hands trembled, she slid them under her velvet cloak.
“Leath’s ranged himself against me.”
“Surely he can’t do much harm,” she said.
“Surely he can. Support has dwindled to nothing on a number of my projects, not least that canal scheme that Elias has invested in. I have wool and coal in Derbyshire and a mill in Manchester that I’d dearly like to link, not just for my own prosperity but for the people of Fentonwyck.”
“But you’re Sedgemoor.”
“And Leath’s spent his life building political influence, whereas I’ve been out of the country for the last few months.”
She hid a pang of guilt. Cam had neglected his interests because he’d been haring after her. “You’re back now. You’ll sort it out.”
“Sorting it out means smoothing his resentment,” Cam said austerely. “Your brother’s plans to seduce the man’s sister won’t help.”
“I imagine not.” She kept her voice calm. “I have no control over Harry.”
“Just don’t encourage any delusions about his courtship.”
“I’m hardly likely to promote the joys of matrimony to someone I care about,” she said bitterly.
A blistering silence crashed down.
Shock at her unguarded response had her stiffening against the carriage’s sway and peering through the darkness at Cam. Her voice quivered with remorse. “Cam, I’m sorry.”
A passing street lamp revealed his devastated expression. At that moment, she loathed herself.
She loathed herself more when he caught her hand and stared at her with piercing concern. “Pen, I’m so sorry that you’re unhappy.” His regret made her poor, aching heart cramp. “Tell me what I can do.”
Love me.
She bit back the inevitable answer and forced an unconvincing laugh. Surely they must be nearly at Rothermere House. She could retire to her room for a serious conversation with herself about making one’s bed and lying in it.
“I’m so sorry, Your Grace.” She pulled free. “I’m a fishwife. I hope you’ll pardon me. The evening’s been difficult.”
His sweeping gesture conveyed impatience. This situation bore down on him too, even if he didn’t live with the object of an impossible passion. “Hell’s bells, stop it, Pen.”
“I don’t understand,” she said in a leaden tone, retreating against the seat and huddling into her cape.
“For God’s sake—”
To Pen’s craven relief, the carriage turned into Grosvenor Square. “We’re here.”
“We’re home,” he snapped. “Don’t imagine this discussion is over.”
Most men wouldn’t notice that she was yet to call any of the Rothermere properties home. She cursed his perception. But none of his houses felt like home. Amidst all the oppressive splendor, she felt like an interloper.
She fell back on the standard excuse. “I’m tired—”
“I’m sure you are,” he flashed back. “And I’m tired of being called ‘Your Grace’ and treated like a pariah. I’m tired of seeing you shy away from me as if you expect a kick for the slightest show of spirit.”
“I hardly think—” she began heatedly, before she reminded herself that an argument would shatter their fragile truce.
The door opened. She hurriedly gathered her reticule and stepped out of the carriage, leaving Cam fuming behind her. In his usual dignified style.
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