Moving faster, Cams thrusts became choppy, urgent. His body hardened. She tilted her hips, begging with incoherent sighs for him to fill her.
She was so close. So close.
He bit down hard on her shoulder and flung her over the shining horizon into the melting heat of the sun. Crying out, she shuddered under the onslaught of astonishing, overwhelming, inescapable pleasure.
Brilliant light blinded her and she closed her eyes to retain the rocketing colors. Fire ricocheted through her, searing every corner, making her anew. Through the wild clamor, she felt Cam jerk against her. His groan filled her ears.
She opened hazy eyes to see him rise on his arms. As he spent himself inside her, the strain leached from his face and his eyelids drooped with sensual satisfaction.
Briefly he looked happy, younger, less burdened. As if Camden Rothermere during these seconds became just a man, not the embodiment of centuries of duty and tradition.
Sensual reaction still pounded through Pen. If hed done this to her on the yacht, shed have drowned for sure. Right now she didnt have strength to roll over, let alone swim for her life.
I love you, Cam. Ive always loved you.
The words welled up. She knew he didnt love her, but after the shattering honesty of what theyd just shared, she couldnt keep such a vital secret.
Cams kiss was tender. She tasted satiation.
Thank you, he said softly. Thank you for trusting me.
She stroked the side of his face. Of course I trusted you, Cam.
Tears loomed close, making her voice sound rusty. But she didnt feel like crying. She felt like wrapping this precious, magnificent man in her arms and holding him safe.
He shook his head to deny what she said and she watched his joy retreat. So quickly the familiar self-possession returned. Although physically they were as close as two people could be, she sensed that somewhere in his mind, he established a distance.
That breathtaking consummation had convinced her that they were bonded forever. For him, it threatened defenses that hed spent a lifetime building.
Her impulsive declaration of love died unspoken and her happiness seeped away even as she still quivered with reaction.
Cam had sealed eternal dominion over her soul. In return, shed fed his physical hunger.
Dear God, she needed to keep her wits about her. All her life, shed known that confessing her love would at best create restraint, at worst send Cam fleeing what he viewed as impossible demands.
To be fair, he wouldnt want to hurt her. Although the sad truth was that because he didnt love her, he hurt her again and again.
The true hell of her marriage struck like a blow. Disgrace and scandal could never match the damage that awaited now that shed irrevocably tied her life to Cams.
She was a damned fool.
And the largest part of her damned foolishness was that despite all she knew, all shed seen, in some corner of her mind shed hoped that over time, he might find it in himself to love her.
She stared into his eyes and recognized that the barriers against her, against anyone threatening his self-containment, would always be there. Although she felt like crying, she summoned a smile. Cam, I promise to be the wife you want. Youll never regret marrying me.
He grimaced as if her words held a sting. I dont deserve you.
Even harder than that smile was dredging up the kind of remark hed expect of sharp-tongued, independent Penelope Thorne. Shed enlisted for a lifetime of lying when she married Camden Rothermere. She refused to stumble at the first fence. I intend to be the worlds greatest duchess.
He regarded her searchingly. She saw the moment he decided to accept her humor at face value. High hopes indeed.
Why aim for the ordinary?
His soft laugh vibrated through her. Despairingly she wondered how he could lie inside her, yet feel a million miles away.
My dear Penelope, you couldnt be ordinary if you tried.
The passion in his kiss made her blood pump. The worlds greatest duchess would never deny the duke his pleasure, even if her heart cracked into a thousand pieces.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Cam passed the blue salon on his way inside from checking his new colt, he heard gusts of feminine laughter. Since his sisters marriage two years ago, Fentonwyck had been a bachelor establishment, so the sound struck him as unexpected. Pen, to his bitter regret, hadnt laughed much lately.
Curiosity made him pause. Curiosity and a determination to rescue his wife. If county society descended, having decided that a week was sufficient privacy for the newlyweds, this would be Pens first solo encounter with the English upper classes since her return. His wife would be a lamb in a den of wolves.
Cam had spent a lifetime countering spite, starting with savage bullying at Eton over his mothers adultery. Hed learned the hard way how to handle trouble. His gut knotting with worry, he stepped into the rooms azure and gold splendor. And stopped dead.
The neighbors ranged around the tea table. The Countess of Marley. Lady Greene and her two daughters. The three Misses Moulton-Brent. Lady Gregory Fulham and her spinster sister. All cats to their last breath. All hanging entranced on whatever Pen described in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.
Shed been uncharacteristically quiet all week. He almost wondered if hed married two completely separate women. One by day was prudent and obliging and almost demurea word hed never thought to associate with Penelope Thorne. By night, the other Pen was endlessly responsive. It was like living with the perfect wife and the perfect mistress, all wrapped up in one spectacular package. Every mans dream.
Shed been uncharacteristically quiet all week. He almost wondered if hed married two completely separate women. One by day was prudent and obliging and almost demurea word hed never thought to associate with Penelope Thorne. By night, the other Pen was endlessly responsive. It was like living with the perfect wife and the perfect mistress, all wrapped up in one spectacular package. Every mans dream.
And Cam could hardly endure it.
This new version of his wife confused him, sparked his impatience, obsessed himwhich bolstered his impatience. Both with Pen and himself.
Hed attempted to break through to the vibrant woman hed known in Italy. But shed greeted his fumbling efforts to establish some ease between them with cool disinterest. Even when he was so far inside her he felt like their blood flowed through a single heart, Pen held herself tantalizingly separate.
The real Pen, the Pen who infuriated and fascinated and challenged him, remained hidden behind those brilliant black eyes. And every breathtaking climax seemed to edge her more out of reach. It was enough to drive a man to drink. Longingly Cam thought of the brandy in his library, even if it was only early afternoon.
While hed never wanted an emotional connection in his marriage, he had imagined that sharing a home, however large, would result in friendly intimacy. But he felt further from Pen than he had when hed saved her from the bandits.
Despite this polite estrangement, their sexual encounters transcended his experience. Every time he spilled into her body, he felt like he surrendered part of his soul. He hated to be in thrall to a woman determined to remain elusive. She turned his nights to flame, and his days to mere intervals of waiting before he joined her on that wide bed upstairs.
He felt like a satyr. He felt out of control. He felt like she hovered just beyond his grasp, even when she stirred to his most daring caresses. Nighttime Pen never denied him, physically at least. Daytime Pen seemed set on establishing a life completely apart from his.
Now daytime Pen coped perfectly well with the intrusive curiosity of Derbyshires ladies. He prepared to retreat, but Lady Greene saw him. Your Grace!
So much silk fluttered as the ladies curtsied that a breeze ruffled Cams hair. He greeted them, starting with the countess who considered herself local societys leader. The Duchess of Sedgemoor trumped the Countess of Marley. Lady Marley wouldnt like that.
Her Grace was describing your heroic rescue in the Alps, Lady Marley said. No wonder you two fell in love on the spot.
As usual when he heard the word love in relation to himself, Cams stomach curdled. How ironic that hed given his friends romantic advice. Camden Rothermere talking about love was like a blind man describing a rainbow.
The tale seems to have roused your amusement, my lady.
With a neutral smile, Pen set down the teapot. She presided with a sureness of touch that even his mother would have envied. She wore one of the dresses shed ordered from Sheffield to carry her through until they left for London next week. It was conservative in style and color. Hed never have imagined Pen could look dull, but in this drab gray gown, she looked dull.
How dashing, one of Moulton-Brent girls sighed.
Just like a novel, Miss Greene added in an equally saccharine tone.
The swooning made Cam bilious, but as he glanced around the group, he commended Pens cleverness. These ladies had arrived prepared to despise her, until the stories of his courtship presented this marriage not as a woeful mésalliance but a romantic triumph.
Damn it. Hed been a fool to fret over Pen. He forgot how shed charmed her way through Europe. He forgot that she was a Thorne. While the Thornes might neglect lifes prosaic elements, they could always woo an audience.
I told the ladies how shocked I was when my childhood idol marched in at such an opportune moment, Your Grace.
Daytime Pen always addressed him formally. Each time she said Your Grace in that sweet, soft voice, he felt like she struck him with a hammer.
Cam shouldnt be piqued that shed been perfectly all right without him. He shouldnt be piqued, but he was.
His wife smiled at him over the tea as if meeting a mere acquaintance. Londons most perfect gentleman stifled the impulse to fling the priceless china into the fireplace and tell the duchesss new acolytes to sod off.
Hed known Pen all his life, yet every day, she felt more a stranger.
Merrick House, Mayfair, early April 1828
Cam descended from the luxurious Sedgemoor town coach painted with the Rothermere unicorns. He extended his gloved hand to escort Pen up the short flight of marble steps.