A lucky coincidence, he said drily, lifting the brandy bottle.
I hope youre pouring me one.
Another reminder that she wasnt the innocent hed proposed to. As you wish.
I wish.
He passed her a brandy and tried to hide his surprise when she took a confident swig. In his world, unmarried ladies of good family didnt indulge in strong spirits. But of course, Pen no longer belonged to his world.
He thought of Lady Marianne Seaton, the woman hed chosen to marry. Lady Marianne wouldnt drink brandy. But then he couldnt imagine Lady Marianne having the fortitude to shoot a bandit either.
Hed never seen Lady Marianne less than perfectly turned out. Pen sat before him completely disheveled. Her bodice sagged, revealing the lacy edge of her shift. It seemed a betrayal to acknowledge that of the two women, Pen struck him as considerably more beddable.
The devil of it was that the years hadnt diminished his reluctant sexual interest. The moment hed seen Pen again, hed wanted her. And now he was stuck with her until he got her safely back to England. What a hellish situation.
No matter what shed got up to over here, she was his childhood companion and his friends sister. She deserved courtesy and respect. If he took Pen for one night, he was honor-bound to take her for life. Hed grown up enough to recognize his foolishness in offering for her all those years ago. The last thing he needed was a permanent entanglement with a notorious Thorne.
Empty glass dangling from one hand, Pen slumped against the wall. The brandy had restored some color to her cheeks.
It isnt a coincidence, is it? Pens voice was flat. The maid slipped from the room.
No.
Why are you here, Cam?
Like a coward, he reached for the brandy bottle and refilled his glass. And hers. Peter sent me. He was worried about you after Lady Bradford passed away. He paused. Im sorry about that.
Something that might have been grief flashed in the remarkable black eyes. Shed learned to guard her thoughts.
Thank you. A hint of warmth entered her voice. I miss her. She was excellent company.
As a boy, Cam had met Isabel, Lady Bradford. Shed possessed a vast fortune, and after a short, disastrous marriage, no interest in a second husband. Cam had liked her. Shed been eccentric and funny and opinionated. But nobody would consider her a suitable companion for an impressionable girl.
Pen, Ive got sad news. His gut cramped with regret and pity. Pen loved her brother dearly. Im so sorry, but Peter died a month ago in Calais.
Pen sucked in a breath. Her eyes went blank. What color shed regained faded to ash.
Pen sucked in a breath. Her eyes went blank. What color shed regained faded to ash.
Curse him, he was a bumbling idiot. He should have broken the news more gently.
Cam sat beside her on the bench, curling his arm around her shoulders. She was as stiff as a corpse. He firmed his grip, worried at her rigidity.
Pen? He hadnt thought about her seriously in years, except as the woman with the temerity to refuse him. This enforced intimacy revived older, sweeter memories of comforting her as a child. Pen? Speak to me.
Slowly, she turned, blinking as though waking from bad dreams. I was meeting him in Paris. Her voice was thready and raw. He wished he could do something to help instead of feeling so confounded helpless. Thats why Im traveling at this ridiculous time of year. She sucked in a breath as if she needed to make a conscious choice to take in air. What happened?
He collapsed on the quay.
Oh, dear God. She started to tremble. I didnt know he was ill. He should have told me.
You know Peter.
He wouldnt want to burden anyone. Tears thickened her voice as her unnatural composure cracked.
He was a brave man. Peter might have been a numbskull in worldly terms, but at heart, he was as true as an oak tree. Once Cam had thought much the same of Pen.
Yes.
Cam shifted closer. His heart ached with sorrow for her. Shed hardly come to terms with shooting a man. Now she faced the loss of a beloved brother.
She wriggled free. Please
As he stood, he stifled a pang that she rejected his sympathy. He had no right to touch her. And given his unwilling attraction, it was better for both of them if he didnt. What can I do?
Usually he knew how to handle any situation. Not in this case. Not with this woman so familiar, yet essentially a stranger.
The glassy look in her eyes made him wonder if she saw anything. His gut knotted when he saw how bravely she battled to dam her tears.
Cam, can you please leave me alone? Her hands twisted in her lap.
He shouldnt be hurt. Clearly she was distraught. But as a little girl, shed always turned to him with her troubles. I cant abandon you.
She shook her head and her voice cracked. Just a little privacy, for pitys sake.
Inwardly he flinched, although he retained his cool exterior. Of course.
He turned to go, before recalling that he had more to tell her. He caught her curling up against the wall as if shutting the world away. The impulse rose to haul her into his arms. He beat it back. Shed made it clear that he was the last man she wanted to touch her. Pen, theres something else.
She didnt glance up, but her hands stiffened into talons in the dark blue skirt over her upraised knees. Not now.
I must. He felt like the worlds biggest bastard. For once, not just because of the doubt surrounding his parentage. He straightened as if facing a dangerous foe. Peter asked me to fetch you back to England.
I dont need an escort. Her voice was lackluster as she stared blindly at the shutters.
Sarcasm tinged his response. That was apparent when I arrived.
The tilt of her chin lacked defiance. Thats never happened before.
Any fool could see that she was near breaking. I just wanted to say that well go on together.
He knew hed said the wrong thing the moment the words left his mouth. Her eyes flashed with anger. It was an improvement on dumb grief. Still giving orders, I see, Your Grace.
Dont cross me on this, Pen, he said steadily.
She cast him a look of pure dislike. Go away, Cam.
Chapter Three
The problem with small inns in the back of beyond was that one had a devil of a job finding somewhere private to observe comings and goings. Particularly during an ice storm of Biblical proportions.
Even after weeks of rough lodgings, this shabby inn was the worst Cam had encountered. He was reluctant to intrude upon Pens grief. But nor did he want to sit outside in the snow, turning into an icicle. He couldnt retreat upstairs to his room for fear that the bandits might return. The villagers had rallied, but he couldnt entrust Pens safety to people he didnt know.
Now he roamed the rooms like a lost dog, hungry and cold and unaccountably depressed by his reaction to Pen. And by her unenthusiastic reaction to him.
When she finally appeared, Cam was in the kitchen, suffering a glass of the pungent local red. The landlords wife cooked dinner and the savory smell made Cams stomach grumble. Confounding malefactors gave a man a powerful appetite.
Good evening, Pen, he said evenly, standing. Would you like some wine?
Perhaps later, she said without venturing inside.
Shed tucked her torn bodice into the neck of her shift. It reminded him, should he need reminding, that shed faced down violence. It also reminded him, sod it, of her sweetly curved body. This continual, itching awareness of Penelope Thorne was tiresome. It wasnt the response hed expectedor wanted. Are you looking for me?
I want Maria. Id like to wash and change. Her tone was almost as frigid as the weather.
If you arent using the taproom, lets bring our guardians inside for a meal. Its a perishing night.
Noblesse oblige, Cam?
He tried not to prickle under her mockery. Care for those who served him was bred into him. If you wish to put it like that.
Poverina, poverina. Their landlady abandoned the stove and bustled forward to place her arms around Pen. Pen sagged against her substantial bosom and Cam caught unguarded vulnerability in her expression.
No wonder shed skulked in the doorway. Shed made a valiant effort to hide her grief, but he immediately saw her red eyes and spiky eyelashes. While hed cursed the inconvenience, shed been crying her heart out. He felt like a rat.
He watched, admiring her strength, as she gathered herself and straightened, towering over the dumpy, gray-haired woman. Their landlady gently led Pen to the table. Within moments a glass of wine and a bowl of steaming soup sat before her.
Grazie. Pens thanks were husky. She stared at the meal as if expecting poison.
Eat it while its hot. Cam cut her a slice from the hearty loaf in the center of the table.
Pen dipped her spoon in but nothing more. Isnt eating in the kitchen beneath the superb Camden Rothermere?
Stop trying to skewer me. Youre giving me indigestion. Despite her bristling hostility, he touched her hand. The contact shivered through him, even as he told himself he offered comfort. Eat, Pen. It will work out.
To your advantage, you think.
Silence fell, thick with animosity. Such a pity. He and Pen had always got along famously. Until hed proposed.
Im sorry about Peter, he said quietly. He spoke in English to create some privacy. Around them, the business of the inn continued with maids carrying trays to the taproom.
So am I. She didnt glance up, but her tone was less confrontational. Thank you for saving me.
He didnt want gratitude, although God knew what he did want. Any man would do the same, he said uncomfortably.
Noblesse oblige again?
He didnt respond. Instead he cut himself more bread. Peter thought you were in trouble. From what I saw today, he was right.
You must have cursed him for involving you. Seeking out an old friends wayward sister wasnt on your agenda. Especially when we didnt part under the best circumstances.
Just like Pen to refer so bravely to their last awkward meeting. Cam sipped his wine and decided to be equally frank. You neednt have run away. I had no intention of pestering you.
Color tinged her cheeks and to his relief, she ate a little, if only to avoid his gaze. I wasnt running from you. I was running from my mother.
Ah. He should have guessed. She bullied you?