What a Duke Dares (41 page)

“I’d rather kick the door in,” Cam murmured.

Pen’s quelling glance expressed disdain for dramatics. The exchange was a bitter reminder of their previous wordless communication. Regret pierced him as he counted what he’d lost. He’d been so intent on decrying her betrayal. He’d forgotten that without Pen, he was fated to arctic desolation.

The idea revived his impulse to smash something. Unfortunately, while the Marquess of Leath offered the perfect target, punching his lordship wouldn’t help Sophie and Harry.

Pen pushed past Cam and Leath to ascend the last flight. She knocked on the door. “Harry? Harry, are you there? It’s Pen.”

The flimsy door squeaked open. “Pen, what on earth—”

Leath mounted the stairs two at a time, flattening his hands against the door and slamming it open. Cam pursued close enough to see the door crash against the faded wallpaper and a hunk of plaster fall from the ceiling. Sophie Fairbrother curled up on a narrow bed and watched with wide eyes as the tiny room filled.

“I’ll kill you, you bloody worm,” Leath gritted, grabbing Harry’s coat and aiming a blow at his jaw. “How dare you come within an inch of my sister?”

Harry staggered. Sophie screamed and flung herself
between her brother and her lover. “James, no! Please, don’t hurt Harry.”

“Hurt Harry? I’ll sodding murder him,” the marquess hissed, flinging her out of the way and advancing on a reeling Harry. “Stand up and act the man. Nobody ruins my sister and lives to tell the tale.”

Fleetingly forgetting his anger, Cam glanced at Pen. He’d been right to fear bloodshed. “Stop it, Leath,” he said sharply.

“You can’t kill Harry,” Sophie protested. “I won’t let you.”

“I’ll deal with you when we get home,” Leath bit out, seizing Harry again.

“Stop it, I say.” Cam tore Leath away before he inflicted more damage. “This serves no purpose.”

“It makes me feel better; that’s enough,” Leath growled. He was stronger than Cam expected and keeping him from Harry, who still looked dazed, took a good deal of effort.

Sophie regained her balance and threw herself on her brother. “James, please, listen to me.”

“Hiding behind my sister, are you, Thorne?” Leath snarled.

Harry shook his head, Cam thought more to order his addled senses than to contradict Leath’s taunt. “What are you doing here?” he asked shakily, touching his jaw and wincing. “How the devil did you find us?”

“We’re here to stop the two of you making the biggest mistake of your young lives, you fool,” Cam said roughly. “Given the mistakes you’ve both made, that’s saying something.”

With a shocked expression, Harry looked past Cam to Pen. “Did you give us away?”

Pen took Harry’s arm. “Harry, this isn’t the way to win Sophie.”

“He has won me,” Sophie insisted.

Leath interpreted that in the worst possible sense. A sense that Cam, unfortunately, suspected was true. “You bastard.”

Leath lurched free of Cam and raised a fist to slam Harry to the ground. The concentrated power in the gesture promised murder. Pen must have seen it too. With the reckless courage Cam knew so well, she darted between the two men.

“James, watch out!” Sophie screamed, but it was too late.

Fist thudded on flesh and Pen stumbled.

“Pen!” Cam pitched forward to catch her.

He went down on his knees, hitting the uncarpeted floor with a painful bang. He hardly cared. Pen looked as pale as she had when he’d accused her of betrayal. He cradled her against his chest and bent his ear to her lips. Was she breathing? Over the thunder of his heart, he couldn’t be sure.

Panting, he glared at Leath. “You are a dead man.”

Leath regarded Pen in horror, hands held stiffly open at his sides as if he couldn’t bear the thought of them wreaking further harm. “My God, man, why did she do that?”

Harry hovered at Cam’s shoulder. “Cam, for pity’s sake, tell me she’s all right.” ’

Cam clutched Pen more tightly. “Pen, darling, say something.”

Dear heaven, don’t let her be seriously hurt.
With shaking desperation, he pressed her to his chest. She couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let her.

But as he stared into his wife’s waxen features, his show of arrogance disintegrated. Instead, all he had was a wounded heart. And blind terror that she left him forever just as he discovered that he couldn’t live without her.

Chapter Forty

T
his was like that delicious moment of forgetfulness when she’d awakened in the phaeton. Pen didn’t want to move in case it was a dream. Or in case Cam pushed her away again.

Then red-hot pain sliced through her head and she groaned. Recollection crashed back. Leath had hit her. If Cam held her, it was
noblesse oblige
. She began to detest that phrase.

“Pen, Pen, say something.” Cam’s voice, yet not Cam’s voice. Or at least not how she’d last heard him. Then he’d spoken like he hated her. Now he sounded like he cared. Perhaps she should ask Leath to hit her again.

“Pen, I’m so sorry,” Harry fretted somewhere behind Cam. “This is all my bloody fault.”

“Yes it is, you damned idiot.” Even that lacked the bite of Cam’s earlier remarks. “Pen, please…”

“I’m… I’m fine.” It wasn’t true, but pride was a powerful motivation. She opened dazed eyes. Cam, Leath, and Harry crowded her, sucking up all the air. She tried to move,
although the slightest twitch made her head feel likely to fall off.

“I’d give the world to relive the last minute.” Leath kneeled beside her. “Your Grace, how can I beg your forgiveness?”

“Get away from her,” Cam snarled, his grip making her wince. “Name your seconds.”

“Haven’t we had enough violence?” Pen asked shakily, struggling to sit straighter in her husband’s arms. Fighting the pounding in her head, she forced out a plea for good sense in a choked voice. “It seems we’re all family or destined to become so. Can’t we discuss what’s happened calmly and kindly?”

Cam’s arms tightened protectively. “Pen, don’t try to talk.”

“No, I must say this.” She looked at Leath. “Do you really want to shoot Harry?”

Leath scowled at Harry. “Yes, I do.”

Sophie spoke and to Pen’s surprise, she didn’t sound young or silly. “That’s too bad, James. Because I’m marrying Harry Thorne, whether here or in America. In Outer Mongolia for all I care. I love him.”

“You’re not old enough to know what love is.” Leath turned from Pen to Sophie almost with relief. She didn’t mistake how appalled he’d been at hitting her.

“Yes, I am. You think I’m not because you’ve always looked after me.” Sophie smiled at Harry, who still stared at Pen as though expecting her to expire any moment. “Now Harry and I will look after each other.”

“In America?” Leath asked sarcastically.

“If necessary.” Harry ran his hand through his black Thorne hair and met Leath’s eyes with commendable steadiness. “You have every right to want to kill me. I acted badly.
Your sister’s honor is as precious to me as it is to you, my lord. I’m unworthy of her. We both know that. But I love her more than my life and I’ll do my best to make her happy.”

“That means nothing.” Leath rose, formidable in the cramped room.

Harry didn’t back down. “It means the world.”

Pen, who despite her fondness had always thought Harry a bit shallow, was impressed. She suspected that Sophie and Harry together were more than a match for the marquess.

Sophie took Harry’s hand. “James, I don’t want to marry Lord Desborough.”

Pen’s pain receded by inches. She realized that she clung weakly to Cam when he didn’t want a bar of her. She straightened away from him, anguished at how easily he let her go. She struggled to steady her voice. “My lord, surely if you love your sister, you won’t force her into an uncongenial marriage.”

Leath frowned more in puzzlement than anger. “Sophie, of course I want you to be happy. But you never said you disliked Desborough.”

“I don’t dislike Desborough.” Sophie’s jaw firmed with stubbornness. “But I told you I
loved
Harry.”

“I thought it was only a passing fancy for a handsome fribble. I was trying to save you from hurt.” Leath looked devastated. After Harry’s tales of star-crossed love, Leath’s unselfish devotion to his sister still surprised Pen. “I wanted you to marry a man who could give you everything you deserve, who would love you faithfully, and protect you, and treat you like a queen.”

“I’m that man, my lord,” Harry said staunchly.

“Leath,” Cam said quietly before the other man could deliver a blistering setdown about Harry’s ham-fisted attempts to “protect” Sophie.

Leath faced Cam and for the first time, his eyes didn’t flare with hatred. “This is a blasted mess.”

“I agree.” Cam’s voice remained calm. Thank goodness, his temper had subsided. Pen couldn’t bear to think of him risking his life in a duel. Especially over something that was the result of her impetuosity. “And don’t forget that the whole world knows our business.”

Guilt made Pen cringe. In Ramsgate, she’d foretold that if she married Cam, the result would be scandal and disgrace. There was no satisfaction in being proven right.

Sophie gasped softly. “How—”

Leath shot her a stern look. “You’ve been publicly ruined, my girl.” Dislike stirred as he focused on Harry. “Thanks to this oaf.”

Before the argument resumed, Cam spoke. “We need to scotch the scandal as best we can.”

“Go on,” Leath said warily.

Cam rose and very gently helped Pen up. “Can you stand?”

The pathetic creature who would sell her soul to stay in Cam’s arms begged her to say no. The realist, her guide since she’d recognized that she’d yearn in vain after Camden Rothermere, told her to grow up. “Yes.”

“How are you feeling?”

Like someone hit me with a rock.
But her heart hurt worse than her head. “I’m fine.”

Cam’s expression was skeptical. Gratefully, she felt his hand curl around her waist, keeping her upright. With more of that heartbreaking gentleness, he led her across to sit on the bed. He released her and she assumed he meant to leave her alone. But his hand settled on her shoulder in silent support as he stood by her side.

Leath’s expression was stark with remorse as he looked at
her. “Your Grace, an apology doesn’t come near to making up for what I did.”

Pen mustered a shaky smile. “Then help Harry and Sophie.”

Cam turned to Leath. “Arrange a quick, quiet wedding. Make a show of accepting Harry. Get your cronies to rally around the newlyweds. Given my part in this, I’m willing to offer the match what countenance I can. I’m sure the Harmsworths and the Hillbrooks will help.”

“But the scandal—”

A flash of Cam’s wry smile. “I’ve lived with scandal all my life. You, my lord, are a mere amateur. It’s too late to silence gossip, but a good face on proceedings will help.”

“So best behavior all round. That includes not shooting each other.” Pen glanced toward Harry and Sophie. “Or sailing to America.”

Harry still looked wretched. His chin bore a bruise to rival Leath’s. At this rate, they’d all return to London looking very sorry. “Pen, I never should have embroiled you in this.”

Reluctantly she left Cam to offer Harry a gingerly hug. Every movement made her head throb. If Leath ever decided against becoming prime minister, she could recommend him as a boxer. “Be happy, brother.”

Carefully she hugged Sophie. “Welcome to the family.”

Sophie returned her embrace, then approached her brother. “James, I’m sorry I’ve caused all this trouble.” Her voice wobbled. “But I love you and I hope you can forgive me one day.”

Pen was sure that Leath would hate the way his expression betrayed every emotion. Anger. Frustration. Abiding affection. Guilt. Then reluctant acceptance. Up until now, Pen hadn’t been sure that she liked the marquess. She
didn’t blame him for hitting her, but she couldn’t excuse his arrogance.

Now when he beheld his sister as though he’d sacrifice anything for her, Pen’s heart melted.

It was the old magic again. Love. Once more she faced the harsh truth that the magic would forever remain a mystery to her husband.

“I’ll think about forgiving you.” Leath’s tone said that he already had. He kissed Sophie on the forehead, then faced her toward Harry. “Look after her.”

Pen had never seen Harry so grave. “I will, sir. And thank you.”

Incredibly, they might yet emerge without bloodshed. When Leath left Rothermere House, she’d been sure that he’d kill Harry.

Pen sagged with exhaustion. Now that the tension ebbed, she felt like Leath had punched her over and over, instead of landing one glancing blow to the side of her head.

“I’ll take Sophie and Thorne to Alloway Chase,” Leath said. “They’ll be safe from curiosity there while we plan the wedding.”

Sophie and Harry collected their few possessions—they’d traveled very light—and left with Leath. Pen and Cam remained behind in the dingy room, his arm around her waist.

She felt giddy and sick and sore and woefully unprepared for this reckoning. But she couldn’t bear to wait any longer to decide her future. She’d reached a point where a short sharp cut seemed preferable to slow strangulation.