Her lush lips turned down. I dont like London.
You will.
Daringly he reached for one of her gloved hands. She started, but even through two layers of fabric, he felt her warmth. The urge to strip away both gloves and test the softness of her skin beat like a war drum in his head. But one false move and shed scarper for the ballroom, red eyes or not.
Im not so green that I dont know a stranger shouldnt hold a ladys hand, she said drily.
Yes, remiss of you not to tell me your name.
To his surprise, she laughed. He was glad to see her regain her cheerfulness. Its better that you dont know who I am.
Wont you tell me why youre crying?
She raised shining eyes to his and he suffered another blow from an invisible assailant. Youve just told me I cant trust anyone.
Hoist by his own petard. You can trust me.
An unimpressed look crossed her face. Im sure every untrustworthy person in the world says that.
Good Lord, she was sweet. Where does that leave us?
With plans to return to the ballroom?
Are you deserting me?
Another faint smile. He had a delicious sense that she tested her power. Yes.
He fleetingly wondered whether perhaps hed dipped too deeply into the punch. But when her smile widened and his heart lurched like a drunken sailor, he recognized that this intoxication reached far beyond lowly alcohols power. Cruel beauty.
How can I be cruel when youve been so very kind?
He groaned. That makes me sound like an aged uncle.
This time when she tried to withdraw, he let her. Nevertheless, its true.
Will you save me a dance?
Her poise revived with every second. My card is full.
What about tomorrow night?
We mightnt be at the same party.
It was his turn to smile. Oh, that we will, my mysterious miss.
The moonlight was bright enough to reveal the flash of unhappiness that crossed her face. Theres no point flirting with me.
Theres every point.
She shook her head and he wished he believed that she teased him. Im spoken for.
Spoken for? Youre not married?
Thick sheets of lead coated the heart that had been lighter than air. Something had happened to him tonight in this garden, something momentous.
Not yet.
Not yet? What the hell did that mean?
Before he could question her, she turned and hared off through an opening in the hedge that hed missed. And bugger it, he still didnt know her name.
Something in him insisted that shed seen him as clearly as hed seen her. That shed felt the immediate connection. Stronger than attraction. Affinity, and an odd recognition, as though their encounter was preordained.
He sighed and sank onto the seat. Could a mans world change in an instant?
When Harry rejoined the party, he immediately located the girl. Hed wondered whether to blame the moonlight for his enchantment. Now that he saw her clearly, she still took his breath away. Candlelight revealed details that hed missed. The precise shade of her gold hair. The creamy skin. The pink flush on her cheeks.
A pink flush that heightened when she cast one nervous glance to where he stood near the doors.
Satisfaction that shed sought him out flooded him. His eyes followed her as she twirled around the room, graceful as a flying bird in her white dress. She was dancing with the Marquess of Leath. Could his rival be James Fairbrother? The man was filthy rich and from a powerful family.
Across the crowded room, Lady Vera scowled at him as if shed like to skin him alive. He shrugged and sent her a regretful smile. How could he explain that after a chance meeting, he was no longer the same man?
Who is that pretty girl with Leath? he asked with studied nonchalance when his friend Beswick sidled up.
Beswick took a few moments to locate her. The man must be blind. She outshone every woman here the way the sun outshone the moon. The blonde?
The goddess. Yes.
Thats Sophie Fairbrother. Beswick regarded him in disbelief. Thats setting your sights too high for a penniless younger son with no prospects, chum. Shes Leaths sister. Word is that shes promised to Desborough, although nothing officials been announced.
Another punch in the guts. Was that why his beauty had been crying? Her family forced her into an unwanted match? Earl Desborough?
Beswick laughed derisively. Is there another? He and Leath are political pals and this will unite the two great fortunes. The chit comes with a fat dowry. Surprised you havent heard talk of her.
Does she love Desborough? Harry asked, then cursed himself for the betraying question.
Another scoffing laugh from Beswick. Who cares when she brings all that gold? Good God, Id make a play for her myself if Leath didnt know that my pockets are to let. Wish hed forget about fortune hunters and concentrate on his spat with Sedgemoor.
Without shifting his attention from Sophie Fairbrother, Harry asked, What spat?
Have you been living under a rock?
Harry cast his friend a look of cordial dislike. No, just attending Peters funeral and helping Elias settle into his role as the new Lord Wilmott.
Dismay filled Beswicks good-natured face. Beg pardon, old man. I forgot. Blame it on my frustration at seeing such a fat pigeon fly to someone who already has a full dovecote.
Reluctantly Harry smiled. Beswicks financial woes were long-standing. Buck up, Beswick. Its always darkest before the dawn.
Especially if you cant afford candles, his friend replied glumly. You must have heard about Richard Harmsworth and Sedgemoor exposing Neville Fairbrother, Leaths uncle, as a thief? Fairbrother shot himself before charges were laid, but the investigation has filled the papers. Jonas Merrick gathered most of the evidenceas youd expect with his contacts. That man knows before a mouse farts in the wainscoting, I vow.
Perhaps Harry had been living under a rock. The uncles doings have tainted all the Fairbrothers?
Pretty much. The word is that Leath hopes this spectacular marriage will restore the family prestige.
So shes a sacrificial lamb. Poor Sophie. The dance finished and her brother returned her to a group of grandees including, he noticed, Desborough.
Sacrificial virgin, more like. Beswicks voice lowered. Desboroughs a lucky dog. Brass doesnt usually come in such an appealing package.
Watch your mouth, Beswick, Harry snarled.
Even without looking, Harry knew his friend regarded him like he was going mad. The way he felt, perhaps his friend was right. Steady on, man. Shes a pretty girl whos completely out of reach. Weve admired plenty of those in our time.
The Thornes were inclined to sudden, but lasting passions. Sophie Fairbrother had no idea what shed sparked tonight. As if she sensed his thoughts, Sophie looked up sharply and immediately found him. Even across the room, he saw the hectic color in her alabaster cheeks. Dear Lord, she was a peach.
Harry held her eyes. He meant to make her his. Let the rest of the world go hang.
Chapter Five
Val dAosta, February 1828
Very carefully, Pen inched open the door from her chamber on the upper floor. Despite exhaustion, roiling turmoil had stopped her sleeping. Grief for Peter. Anger that he hadnt confided in her about his illness. Resentment at Cams arrogance. Impatience with herself for finding Cam as compelling as ever, even when she burned to crown him with the nearest stewpot.
Just seeing Cam confirmed that agonizing truth. She hated to admit that she was still that most pathetic creature, the lovelorn female yearning after a man who would never love her back.
Since refusing his proposal, shed done her damnedest to forget Camden Rothermere. Her aunt had led an active and interesting life, mixing with people who found English manners too restrictive. In the past nine years, Pen had met poets and painters and musicians, wandering aristocrats and antiquarians, travelers and scientists.
Shed learned that her idiosyncratic character, too individual to meet approval at home, appealed to those who appreciated intelligence and spirit. Her broken heart had found some small solace in the admiration of brilliant, sophisticated men. Cam didnt want her, but that didnt mean she was undesirable.
Occasionally shed wondered if someone might usurp Cams place in her affections. But to her despair, she was a true Thorne. She loved once and she loved deeply.
Which meant she couldnt bear to spend the next weeks cooped up with Cam. Last night, shed told Giuseppe and Maria to be waiting at five, whatever the weather. Luckily, the storm had died overnight and when she checked out her narrow bedroom window, the road from the village looked passable. Even if it wasnt, shed damn well walk rather than suffer Cams company all the way back to England.
Now that Peter wouldnt meet her in Parisshe stifled a pang, shed grieve once she was out of this pickleshed go south as Cam suggested. Then shed make her way to London.
The corridor outside her room was black as a cave in Hades. She edged forward. Once she made it downstairs and outside to the stables, she was on her way.
Going somewhere?
She jumped and dropped her bag to the wooden floor. Gasping, she whirled toward the shadows near the door. You scared me.
Not enough, apparently, Cam said drily.
She ignored the remark. What are you doing outside my room?
What are you doing dressed for travel?
How do you know Im dressed for travel?
Arent you? he asked coolly. Shall we continue this discussion in private?
We have nothing to say to each other, she said crisply, marching past.
After so long? You wound me. He caught her arm and bustled her into her room.
You have no right. She struggled to break free. Hed touched her too often since hed saved her. And every time he set her pulse racing.
Perhaps not. Will you stay and listen?
Perhaps not. Will you stay and listen?
Youre such a bully, she said sullenly.
Sticks and stones. Do I release you?
She wanted to kick him. Yes.
Cam let her go and moved past. He paused before the window, his tall, lean shape silhouetted against the light reflected from the snow outside. After some clicks and scrapes, the candle on her nightstand bloomed into light.
I hate to mention your dignity again, but isnt it degrading for a duke of the realm to sleep across a ladys threshold like a servant? she asked with pointed sweetness.