Pen, dont let me down. Youre my only hope. Harrys sulkiness reminded her poignantly of his younger self. Wed be discreet.
Thats what people always say. This time when she checked behind her, Cam stood in the doorway. She couldnt blame him for his impatience.
I must go, Harry. The affectionate irritation she felt was familiar from childhood. Its the outside of enough to spring this on me today.
He had the grace to look abashed. I know. But with Elias so determined to travel this afternoon, it was my only chance to ask.
And you couldnt have waited? She lowered her voice so the words wouldnt carry to Cam. An hour married and already she deceived her husband. What was to become of her? How long is Lady Sophie in Northumberland?
Woe descended upon Harry like a cloud upon a mountain. At least a month.
For a young man of Harrys passionate temperament, a month must feel like eternity. Let me think about it.
Thank you, Pen. Harry beamed. I knew youd come up trumps.
She frowned. Im not promising anything. I can see this turning into a disaster for everyone involved, including Cam.
Pen, our guests await, Cam said.
Im coming. She narrowed her eyes at Harry. Dont do anything rash until Im back in Town.
And not then either, she prayed. The last thing Cam needed was his ramshackle Thorne connections kicking up trouble.
She hadnt had long to come to terms with the truth that despite years of running like a scared rabbit, she was Cams duchess. But one thing she swore was that shed do her best to make him proud. Now before the ink on her marriage lines had dried, Harrys chaotic affairs threatened scandal. But if Harry genuinely loved Sophie and she genuinely loved him, could Pen deny them a happiness that shed never find?
Pen? Cams tone would have set the servants scurrying.
Ill see, Harry. Thats the best I can do, she whispered. Feeling beleaguered and inadequate, and not remotely bridal, she turned. With heavy steps, she walked in her unbecoming borrowed clothes toward her husband.
Chapter Eighteen
Carrying two brandies, Cam entered the duchesss apartments. Candlelight flickered over the birds and pagodas on the unfashionable silk wallpaper. The last woman to sleep in these luxurious rooms had been his tempestuous, troublesome mother, who had died when he was seventeen.
The cavernous space could house an army. A crackling fire in the hearth warmed the air. The four-poster bed on its platform looked as wide as a parade ground. By contrast, the woman propped against the piled pillows appeared small and fragile.
Warily Pen watched him cross the acres of floor between door and bed. Nor could he miss how her long, slender fingers curled like talons in the brocade counterpane covering her to the waist.
Shed been as brittle as a dry twig all day. He could kick himself for making his bride so nervous. His clumsiness on the Windhover had much to answer for. He wasnt unhappy about this marriage, but he was damned unhappy that Pen was. He prayed that he could awaken her passion and make her forget everything except the desire that had raged unsatisfied between them for weeks.
Her glorious night-dark hair cascaded over her slender shoulders. Her white batiste nightgown was sheer as mist. While it tied decorously where her pulse fluttered in her neck, that was the limit of its modesty. Her high, firm breasts pressed against the transparent material.
His hands twitched as if he already touched her luscious flesh. Beneath the crimson velvet robe embroidered with gold dragons, he was naked. And ready.
He felt more uncertain than usual with a paramour. But Pen wasnt just a paramour. She was his wife. His duchess.
Tonight he meant to convince her that she wanted no lover but him. Any niggle that he didnt bed a virgin faded as her black gaze burned a line down his body. Her lingering survey might convey caution rather than desire, but his body surged. If her eyes had such power, God help him when she laid those pale hands upon his skin.
Is that brandy for me? Nerves added seductive huskiness to her voice.
Yes. With a pang, Cam noticed how unsteady her hand was as she accepted the glass. Another reminder to take this gradually. He mustered a reassuring smile and gestured to the edge of the bed. May I?
Her lips twisted, not in a smile. Its your bed.
Our bed. I endowed thee with all my worldly goods today. His gaze unwavering, he sat. He should have expected this ambivalence. She wanted him, but she was far from reconciled to a lifetime with him.
Thank you, she said dully.
Youre welcome. Hell, he needed to lighten this oppressive atmosphere.
Her lush mouth glistened with brandy. He burned to lick away the liquor, then drink the headier wine of her kiss. But instinct urged him to go carefully. Pen, please smile. Youre terrifying me.
To his relief, her lips curved with faint amusement. The great Duke of Sedgemoor, afraid?
I want to do this right.
Youll manage perfectly well. You always do.
He didnt understand the bitterness edging her response, although at least she looked less frozen. Ill request a report.
Trying to read her mind, he stared into her eyes. Hed hoped to find desire. Instead he was shocked to see secrets.
What were they? Would she ever trust him enough to share them?
Do that, she said faintly. She lifted her glass and drained her brandy.
Youre treating me like a dangerous stranger when youve known me all your life. It was the tone hed use to soothe a half-broken horse.
Her expression didnt ease. Somehow that makes it worse.
Hed expected Pen to take this wedding night in her stride, the way shed taken bandits and arrogant dukes and hurricanes in her stride. Her fear was disconcerting, troubling. Hed hoped that mutual hunger would carry them through any initial awkwardness. Pen, we neednt do this tonight.
Her skittishness didnt abate and her fingers tightened on her glass. Thats astonishingly generous.
She made it sound like generosity wasnt in character. His lips flattened with displeasure. Not really. You look ready to shriek if I touch you.
She blushed. It always surprised him when this worldly woman went as pink as a peony. You want an heir.
Yes, I do. His laugh was sour. But I can wait a day or two for that happy eventuality.
Her gaze dropped with a shyness that surprised him. I have a horrible feeling that putting off the evil moment will make things worse.
For a blank moment, he stared at her, torn between unwilling amusement and outrage. Amusement won. He burst out laughing and reached for the glass twirling so furiously between her long fingers. Youre a tonic for my vanity.
She looked tense enough to snap. I wasnt trying to be humorous.
He rose to carry the glasses to the dressing table in the alcove. Thats what makes it amusing.
His room was stocked with wine and brandy. Pen had a vase of stringy dahlias like the ones from the church and a brush set that had belonged to his mother. A reminder that his joke about marrying Pen in her petticoat wasnt that funny. Shed lost everything with the Windhover.
Behind his back, he heard her sigh. She sounded like she carried the weight of the world. Despite his efforts at patience, temper stirred. Blast her, she was a bride. She was supposed to be cheerful. He wasnt sure what Pen was feeling, but cheerful definitely didnt describe it.
With a sigh to equal hers, he acknowledged defeat. Tonight at least. He was unreasonable to expect eagerness. His wife had had mere days to recuperate from the wreck and accept a radically different future from the one shed planned. He wasnt a barbarian, despite the throbbing weight in his loins. He could give her time to view that future with a tad more optimism.
Youre tired, Pen. No need to stir early tomorrow. When youre up, Ill show you around the house.
She regarded him with palpable disbelief. Thats it?
He straightened his shoulders from their discouraged slump and struggled to smile. Frustration stung like acid in his veins. I know you wont believe it, but Im very happy that you married me.
To his surprise, the black eyes sparked for the first time today. He had a nasty feeling that this reprieve had lifted her spirits. Just as he had a nasty feeling that hed spend his wedding night alone with an improving book and a bottle of brandy.
Youre right, I dont believe it, but I appreciate your gallantry. Her jaw no longer looked likely to shatter if she spoke one untoward word.
In time, you will. Its been a devil of a ride since we met. Were both at sixes and sevens. He spoke what he prayed was the truth. Well get there. Goodwill and kindness will take us a long way.
Her expression changed, although he was too far away to read her fathomless eyes. Damn it, he didnt want to skulk back to the ducal chambers. He particularly didnt want to lie in the big, cold bed alone.
No, he wanted Pen in his arms. He wanted to scale the ladder to heaven that had beckoned since hed found her again. He wanted to kiss her and touch her and ignite her passions. More than that, he wanted to slide inside her long, glorious body and forget everything except pleasure.
Tonight, want took him nowhere.
He turned toward the door.
Cam?
He didnt turn, partly because he didnt trust himself not to leap on her, whether she wanted him or not. Sleep well, Pen.
Cam, she said more urgently. Wait.
He frowned at the polished mahogany door before him. Did she know how near he was to breaking point? She played a dangerous game.
He heard a rustle behind him. The thick carpet in a pattern matching the delicate chinoiserie wallpaper muffled the soft pad of her feet.
Every hair on his skin rose at her approach. He deliberately hadnt touched her since coming in, afraid that if he did, restraint would vanish. Also something about her watchfulness warned him that if he pushed too far too fast, hed destroy all trust between them.
He heard a rustle behind him. The thick carpet in a pattern matching the delicate chinoiserie wallpaper muffled the soft pad of her feet.
Every hair on his skin rose at her approach. He deliberately hadnt touched her since coming in, afraid that if he did, restraint would vanish. Also something about her watchfulness warned him that if he pushed too far too fast, hed destroy all trust between them.