Although it sounded like an endorsement, Pen wasn’t silly enough to take his words at face value. What she heard was “You can count on our support—as long as you do nothing to shame or discomfit our dear friend.”

She could have told him that hurting Cam was the last thing she wanted. In fact, if she felt confiding, which she didn’t, she could have told Jonas that marrying Cam was the worst injury she could do him.

Except she had an unwelcome perception that during the short conversation, the viscount had winkled out secrets she’d kept for a lifetime. Including the biggest secret of all: that she’d lay down her life for her husband.

Chapter Thirty

In the Duke of Matlock’s luxurious library, the ball’s music and chatter formed a distant buzz. At a mahogany sideboard, Jonas poured brandies for Richard and Cam, as well as himself. Cam leaned his elbow on the alabaster mantel. Richard lounged with his usual louche grace upon a leather sofa.

There was no trace of the acrimony that had marked his interactions with Jonas and Richard before Christmas. Cam had been so busy since, he’d had little chance to lament the break. Now that they were reunited, he realized how much he’d missed his friends.

He’d only reluctantly abandoned Pen in the ballroom. In fact, they nearly hadn’t made tonight’s party. Seeing her in that devilish becoming dress, he’d wanted to drag her upstairs, rip away the green silk and pound into her until she screamed his name.

But he was Camden Rothermere, Duke of Sedgemoor, model of behavior, arbiter of manners, and his recent actions had prompted enough talk. The last thing he wanted was the world saying that he was so besotted with his bride that he couldn’t last five minutes at a public event before rushing her home.

Even if it was perilously close to the truth.

After a nervous beginning tonight, she seemed more at ease. Perhaps because Jonas and Sidonie had smoothed her way. Cam appreciated their efforts. Jonas could be a managing bugger, but once he’d pledged loyalty, he didn’t waver.

Cam had restricted himself to one waltz with his wife and the promise of the supper dance. He’d even maintained an expression of polite interest while a line of scoundrels claimed her as a dance partner.

Eventually, because they were overdue for a conversation he didn’t want overheard, he and his closest friends had retreated to this quiet room. Pen was safe with Genevieve and Sidonie and her brothers.

“I vow these melees get worse,” Richard drawled. “I don’t know why we came. Genevieve took one look at the crowd and nearly turned tail.”

“It takes a lot for your wife to show scared,” Jonas said with a wry twist of his lips. He passed the glasses across. A fire and a couple of lamps illuminated the elegant room. The flickering light softened his scars. These days, Cam hardly noticed them.

“Speaking of wives,” Richard said, “Cam, we must raise a glass and wish you happy.”

“You did that last night,” he said.

Richard shrugged with characteristic nonchalance, although since his marriage, there was a substance to his presence that was new. He no longer tried to conceal his sharp brain, or the kind heart beneath his superlative tailoring. “When he forsakes bachelorhood, a man can’t have too many good wishes.”

Cam mustn’t have hidden his wince fast enough, because Jonas sent him a sharp look. “All not bliss in Eden, my friend?”

“Jonas, leave the poor devil alone,” Richard said. “A man’s comrades shouldn’t poke their noses in.”

“They should if they can help,” Jonas responded softly, watching Cam like a cat watched a mouse hole.

Cam shrugged and lied. Although after last night, it wasn’t quite as much a lie as it had been. “Everything is fine.”

“Didn’t look fine yesterday.” Jonas ignored Richard’s glare. “The duchess was afraid to say a word and you acted like you’d made an appointment with the hangman.”

“He’s exaggerating,” Richard said. “Don’t listen to the officious blockhead.”

“Officious?” Jonas raised his glass in Richard’s direction. “Convey my compliments to Genevieve. She’s doing wonders for your vocabulary.”

Richard didn’t smile. “If only Sidonie did wonders for your manners.”

Cam sighed. “Pen doesn’t deserve your criticism.”

Jonas’s gaze was unimpressed. “I’m sure she doesn’t.”

“You think I do,” Cam said grimly, wondering why the devil he’d missed his friends. Although he gave Richard credit for trying to divert Jonas’s awkward questions.

“You’re the only other candidate.” Jonas stood at the mantel’s opposite end.

Cam frowned. “I’m not here for an inquisition.”

“Yes, you are,” Jonas said shortly.

“To be fair, Cam, given you flounced off in a huff because we weren’t keen on Lady Marianne, then the next time we see you, it’s with a different bride in tow, you must expect a few questions.” Richard sipped his drink.

“Whose side are you on?” Cam snapped.

Richard took his time swallowing his brandy, then smiled. “Yours, although you probably don’t believe me.”

“I don’t.”

“Do you want some advice from an old married man?”

“No.”

“All right.” Richard drank some more brandy. “Damn fine drop, this. Must find out where Matlock buys it.”

A prickly silence extended, until Cam could bear it no longer. Jonas had the patience of Job, but Richard’s forbearance surprised and annoyed him.

Cam sighed and spoke less belligerently. “What’s your advice?”

“I’m rather astonished to be counseling the font of all wisdom.” Richard’s mouth stretched in a reminiscent smile. “I remember Pen as a girl. She was plucky and impulsive and full of life.”

“Yes, she was.” Cam too found himself smiling.

Richard’s smile faded. “That wasn’t the woman I met last night.”

“You knew her many years ago.”

“You need to convince her that you won’t come down in a hail of reproach if she steps out of line. She’s clever; she’ll soon work out what she can and can’t do without upsetting the old biddies.”

“You make me sound like a despot,” Cam protested.

Richard shrugged. “You chose a woman of spirit. Or at least she will be, once she stops fretting about any whisper of disapproval that might inconvenience you. She’s a Thorne. I can’t imagine she’s terrified on her own account. The Thornes drink recklessness with their mother’s milk.”

“Her reputation precedes her,” Jonas said quietly.

Cam set down his glass with a click. “Shall I knock your teeth down your throat, chum?”

“Threaten all you like—not that there’s much of my hide left to mark. I’m just speaking the truth we all know, Cam,” Jonas responded calmly. “You always said you’d marry a woman of unsullied reputation. In fact, that was why you chose Lady Marianne, if I recall our discussion.”

“Not entirely why,” Cam said uncomfortably. Despite his apology, despite fate selecting another bride, he felt guilty about Marianne Seaton. He’d seen the sideways glances directed at her. Society interpreted Cam’s marriage to Pen as a rejection of his first choice.

“She met your standards of beauty and intelligence. But if she’d had the slightest brush with scandal, you’d never have gone within ten miles of her.”

“Then you arrive home with Penelope Thorne, who’s kicked up her heels from Cairo to Stockholm,” Richard said. “You can’t blame us for being curious.”

Cam sucked in a breath and realized that he had to tell his friends the truth. They knew him too well to believe the tale of falling madly in love. He straightened his shoulders. “Pen is the only woman I’ve proposed to.”

Jonas looked unimpressed. “Obviously. You married her.”

Richard already knew the sorry facts, or most of them. Cam had never confessed his unwelcome yen for nineteen-year-old Pen. “Well, yes, I proposed before the wedding. But nine years ago, I asked her to marry me.”

“You’ve been engaged all this time?” Jonas looked astonished, either at Cam’s delay in claiming his bride or, more likely, at discovering something he didn’t already know. Jonas Merrick prided himself on his omniscience.

“Of course not.” Cam disclosed one of his few failures. “She turned me down.”

“Good for her,” Richard interjected, toasting the absent Penelope. “Didn’t I say she had backbone?”

“Penelope Thorne wouldn’t marry you?” Jonas asked. “The family must have already been in financial straits. There’s always been a whiff of notoriety about the Thornes. Superb soldiers in times of crisis. Nothing but trouble in peace.”

Cam’s lips tightened, although it was an opinion he’d grown up hearing. “Peter was my friend.”

“I know the fellow was charming. Too charming for his own good. And they’re a handsome family. You’ve caught yourself a beauty, Cam.”

“Lady Marianne isn’t exactly a pill,” Richard protested.

“Not at all,” Jonas said. “But even an old married man like me can tell that the new Duchess of Sedgemoor will turn heads. Once she gets some confidence and—forgive me saying so—buys some decent clothes, she’ll be so spectacular you won’t get near her for admiring swains, Cam.”

Hell, that was the last thing Cam wanted. He’d decided young that he didn’t want a duchess whom other men panted after. Yet here he was under the sway of a woman who set masculine hearts racing. His lifelong ambitions for a quiet domestic life were doomed.

He bit back a surge of jealousy to think of anyone else touching Pen, of her doing to another man what she’d so breathtakingly done to him last night. His stomach clenched tighter than a fist. Anyone trying to poach Pen away would face annihilation.