He suffered a bad case of unsatisfied desire, a stronger reaction than shed expected from phlegmatic Camden Rothermere. But love had never been part of the equation.
She spoke stiffly. No, I dont want to marry you.
Another crash from above, violent enough to shake the deck. It sounded like a herd of elephants thundered up and down playing football.
If you dont want an affair, what the hell do you want? Because of the noise, his voice emerged more aggressively than perhaps he intended.
A fair question. So fair that it made her lash out in disappointment. I dont want you to relieve your itch for me in some shabby little hideout before you go straight to Lady Marianne.
Lightning revealed him looking particularly ducal, all supercilious lowered eyelids and lips curled in aristocratic disdain. My dear girl, you do me an injustice. There would be nothing shabby about our retreat. My mistresses never complain of my generosity. You wont surrender your doubtful virtue for a mere shilling.
She slapped him hard enough for the impact to echo over the wailing wind. Glaring, she rubbed her palm. It stung like the devil. She hoped his cheek felt worse.
Despite the noise, a vibrating silence descended.
When lightning streaked through the sky, she clearly saw the imprint of her hand on his face. He looked ready to murder her.
Good. She felt the same. If she could arrange it, shed happily push him into the ocean and laugh while he drowned.
She should feel horrified at hitting him. But outrage still writhed in her stomach like a cobra, making her feel sicker than the rolling ship ever could. Shed never imagined him addressing a woman of his own class like a courtesan.
Damn Camden Rothermere to hell.
Another crash from above shattered his paralysis. He rolled off the bed to stand, clinging to the base of the bed. The rage drained from his expression, leaving him tired and unhappy. She told herself she didnt care.
Im sorry, Pen.
Pen wished hed go, then realized that he awaited absolution. He could wait until hell turned into green meadows. Theres no excuse.
Her uncompromising response flattened his lips. I havent acted as a man of principle.
And that irks you, she snapped.
He looked surprised, although to do him credit he didnt sidle away from responsibility. Yes, it does. You know how Ive struggled to prove that a Rothermere isnt necessarily a scoundrel.
She sighed, suddenly deathly sick of it all. Cam, grow up and accept that youre not perfect. You made a mistake.
He knew he wasnt off the hook. Around you, I make nothing but mistakes.
Then perhaps its better that we never meet again, she said dully.
That might be best.
His ready agreement shouldnt sting. Of course he wanted to be rid of her. Shed been nothing but trouble, and now shed teased him into a lather, then clouted him for good measure. So get out of my cabin.
A lurch of the ship had him grabbing for the bedpost. Fortunately the furniture was nailed down. You said you were frightened.
Now Im frightened of you, she said with a spite that later shed regret.
He paled and his hand clenched on the carved column. Pen, I
She stared blindly at the paneled wall, hoping hed take the hint. Still he didnt go. Couldnt he tell that she didnt want to see him?
A splintering sound rent the air. A more fanciful woman might say it marked the splitting of her heart.
Pen, I never meant it to be like this. Please forgive me.
Cam sounded like the boy shed grown up with. Shed fallen in love with that boy. Shed trust her life to that boy. She turned ready to scream like a harpy, then stopped astonished as the door behind Cam slammed open and an oilskin-covered Goliath barged in.
Your Grace, Your Grace, come above. The lady too. Capn says the Windhovers about to founder on Goodwin Sands. The masts gone and were taking water. We must man the boats if theres hope of saving ourselves.
For a burning instant, Pen stared into Cams eyes. Cam, are we lost?
Never. The mad courage in Cams response made her heart surge, despite all the anguish and hatred of the last hour. Give me your hand.
Then the world turned to chaos as the yacht slammed into a solid obstacle.
Chapter Eleven
Leath House, London, late March 1828
By God, Leaths butler was a superior bugger. Harry fought the urge to stick a finger in his neckcloth to loosen it. He stalked through the door that the haughty fellow held and into an extravagant library.
The tall man who rose from behind a vast mahogany desk bore an expression even more forbidding than the butlers. By the hard set of his jaw and the shuttered eyes, he looked ready to boot young Mr. Thorne back into Berkeley Square. Harry gulped to moisten a dry mouth, then told himself to buck up.
Thorne. Leaths voice was particularly deep and resonant.
Only with difficulty did Harry stop himself from jumping like a nervous cat. Hed heard innumerable stories of the marquesss lethal tongue and razor-sharp brain shredding any members of the House of Lords rash enough to set themselves against him. My lord.
No invitation to sit. Instead Leath prowled around the desk to prop his hips against the edge. Harry supposed Sophie was upstairs. He hadnt informed her of this afternoons call.
Harry swallowed again and struggled to keep his voice steady. He felt colder inside Leath House than outside in the squall slapping rain against the windows. Im sure youve guessed why I requested this appointment.
The marquesss expression remained discouraging. Perhaps you should tell me.
Harry had devoted the last week to planning his campaign. Hed arrived dressed in his best and armed with an array of arguments to melt a bronze statues heart. Now he stared at the man he hoped would become his brother-in-law and couldnt recollect a word.
Impatience drew the marquesss fierce black brows together. Im a busy man.
The world accounted James Fairbrother a handsome fellow in the brawny, saturnine fashion. Right now, Harry just thought he was terrifying.
Harry drew himself up and spoke from the heart. Which was the last thing hed intended. Hed long ago realized that no appeal to sentiment would win over the marquess. Im here to ask permission to court Lady Sophie. I love her and Im sure Ill make her happy.
To Harrys mortification, the marquess laughed. He folded his arms across his dauntingly wide chest and bent his head and snickered fit to send a man mad.
My lord, I see nothing amusing in my request. Harry cursed himself for sounding like a pompous blockhead.
Abruptly Leath stopped laughing. This time Harry couldnt mistake the animosity in his eyes. When I got your note, I wondered if you were moronic enough to declare yourself. Surely even the stupidest member of Englands most imprudent family couldnt be that foolhardy. Another snide laugh. I overestimated you. Although nothing Ive seen since you started sniffing around my sister indicates that I should have.
Youre offensive, sir, Harry said coldly, before remembering that umbrage wouldnt forward his cause.
Im offensive? Leath didnt raise his voice, which made his contempt all the more powerful. Im not a useless fribble of a spendthrift who imagines hell win a great heiress just for the asking. An heiress who happens to be the sister I love. On his deathbed, I promised my father that Id look after Sophie. Entrusting her future to a wastrel would make me a vile liar.
Harry struggled not to retreat under this tirade, all expressed in a basso profundo that set his teeth vibrating. You need to give me a chance to present my case, my lord.
Leaths fist banged hard upon the desk behind him, setting the inkwells rattling. The devil. I do not need to give you anything, except an order to leave my house and stop bothering my sister.
Every rule of politeness insisted that when a man requested a guests departure, the guest was duty-bound to depart. But Harry was angry enough and desperate enough to defy the marquesss decree.
There is some justice in your accusations, my lord, he said through lips so stiff that they felt made of wood. Nobody had spoken to him like this since he was an unpromising schoolboy at Eton. He squared his shoulders and stared directly at Leath. I wont make excuses for my behavior or my family.
There are no excuses, Leath snapped.
Harry told himself that he couldnt close this interview by punching the overweening coxcomb in the nose. I am a young man who until now has had no call on his talents. Ive done no harm to anyone. My vices are those of any sprig about Town. If you inquire, youll discover Im addicted to neither the bottle nor the gambling tables. Im not in debt. Barely. I love your sister sincerely. I believe I can make her happy.
Leath regarded him like a cockroach that had crawled from beneath the rich Turkey carpet. And I believe that youre a rake without income or prospects who intrigues to set himself up in luxury, courtesy of my sisters fortune.
Harry flinched before he recalled that any display of vulnerability placed him at the marquesss mercy. Not that mercy seemed part of the mans repertoire. Id take your sister in her shift, sir.
Gallant words, Mr. Thorne. Ones youll never need to prove.
She ought to marry a man who adores her. Harry retained enough grip on strategy to know that mentioning Desborough would only infuriate Leath.
She ought to marry a man who offers steadfastness and care.
I am that man, sir. Harry straightened his spine, although he knew nothing would help him. Damn it, Sophie had been right. He should have listened. Shed be furious when she discovered that he hadnt. We should ask Lady Sophies opinion.
At least Leath didnt laugh, although his smile was derisive. Youve turned her head. You have a charming manner, Mr. Thorne. Not charming enough to gain this heiress.
You harp upon her fortune, my lord, as if that is all Lady Sophie has to offer. You do her a grave injustice.
Was Harry optimistic to notice a softening in Leaths contempt? Youve got more backbone than I expected, Thorne. Perhaps you do fancy yourself in love.
Harry didnt bother gracing that comment with a reply. So I have permission to court your sister?
Leaths eyebrows arched. Be damned to you, you do not. Shell marry a man who can give her the life she deserves. That, sir, is not you.