Anna Campbell – What A Duke Dares (страница 15)
Stubbornness firmed his jaw. “No.” He stared hard at her, green eyes opaque. “Pen, God forgive me, but I never expected to want you.”
Like a seedling reaching for the sun, joy unfurled. Until native cynicism made her hesitate. “You don’t sound very happy about it.”
His lips flattened. “I’m not.”
Her laugh was acid. “So this isn’t the prelude to another proposal?”
He flinched. “You had good reason to refuse me.”
Yes, she did. She still did. “A lucky escape for you.”
“I wouldn’t be so ungallant.”
Her lips twisted and she stared into her lap, covered in thick white flannel. Strangely, this was the closest they’d ventured to a frank conversation in a week. “Never you, Your Grace.”
“Stop sniping. I’m struggling to do what’s best.”
She regarded him with dislike. “You always do.”
Her ironic tone nettled him. “Our circumstances are trying, but not impossible.”
“Glad to hear it.”
He plowed on. “I’ve always tried to be honorable.”
Of course he had, she thought wearily. Another snide remark rose, but his expression stifled it. “That’s good.”
“Pen, I have to keep my hands off you.”
Pain crunched her heart. “Because I’m an unsuitable bride?”
Waiting for agreement felt like the pause before someone punched a bruise.
He shook his head. “Because I’m courting another lady.” He stared over her head as if the crucifix on the wall provided enormous interest. “When I return to England, I’m marrying Lady Marianne Seaton, the daughter of the Marquess of Baildon.”
After that miraculous encounter in Lord Chetwell’s cupboard, Harry was too restless to sleep. Too restless and too happy. Sophie mightn’t love him yet, but she was interested. To the point of defying her powerful brother.
Harry had wandered home from the ball in a daze. The memory of Sophie’s kisses fizzed in his blood. The sound of her voice filled his ears like music. Her scent haunted him.
He was head over heels, madly in love. And he didn’t give a tinker’s curse.
Anticipation had him saddling his horse—he wasn’t selfish enough to wake a groom so early—and riding to the park before dawn. He settled his mount under a tree with a view of Rotten Row. There was a special luxury in being here on a misty February morning, knowing that his beloved might appear any moment. The sun just peeped above the horizon, shooting long golden rays through the bare trees.
Into this magical glade trotted his Sophie, controlling a fine gray mare with a light touch. She wore a neat dark blue riding habit, and the jaunty angle of her hat made him want to kiss her.
Harry straightened from his slouch, an uncontrollable smile spreading across his face. His heart performed a jig.
She smiled back. “Mr. Thorne, what a surprise,” she said in an unnaturally lilting voice for the benefit of the groom plodding behind.
Stifling a laugh, Harry doffed his hat and bowed. What a hopeless conspirator she was. “Lady Sophie, a delightful chance.”
“The park is quiet this morning.” She glanced at Harry under her long lashes. “Are you alone?”
“Yes. Perhaps we could ride a little way.”
“Your ladyship, I’m not sure—” the groom began before Sophie cut him off with a laugh. A very unconvincing laugh.
“Mr. Thorne and I are old chums, Jones. Why, we danced together only last night.”
“Very well, my lady.” The man settled into the saddle, his stare unwavering. Leath had chosen a diligent guardian.
Harry had hoped for more kisses. What man wouldn’t? But he saw that a brief and decorous conversation was all he could expect. “It was quite a party, wasn’t it?”
He wheeled his horse to amble in the same direction as Sophie’s. The park must contain other people, but as far as he was concerned, he was alone with his beloved.
“I enjoyed myself immensely,” Sophie said with another sideways glance. “A memorable occasion.”
Harry was more convinced than ever that she was a minx. He liked her all the more for it. The thought of her harnessed to a dry stick like Desborough made the gorge rise in his throat. “Is this your first visit to London?”
“No, my brother always comes up for parliament. The last few years, he’s brought me too.”
Leath was touted as a future prime minister, wasn’t he? Or at least he had been, until his uncle’s criminal activities had stained the family name. The marquess must be seething over the gossip, and all of it so public, thanks to Sedgemoor’s intervention.
Leath would place Harry in the Sedgemoor camp. After all, the Rothermeres and Thornes had grown up together. Years ago, there had even been talk of marriage between Cam and Harry’s sister, Penelope. What a disaster that would have been. Pen was headstrong and unconventional, whereas Cam was the model of gentlemanly restraint.
“That explains the town bronze. Most young ladies are wide-eyed with wonder during their first season.”
She giggled delightfully. “I’m quite the sophisticate now that I’ve seen Astley’s Circus and the menagerie at the Tower of London.”
Color brightened Sophie’s cheeks. She had the most exquisite skin. Harry’s blood heated when he imagined that skin bare to his exploration. As his hands tightened on the reins, his horse shifted.
They’d moved ahead of Jones, who seemed prepared to give Harry the benefit of the doubt. For now. Harry leaned to pat his horse’s gleaming neck and spoke in a murmur. “I want to touch you.”
She responded in a whisper. “I couldn’t get away on my own.”
“Neither you should. London’s full of scoundrels.”
“Including you?”
“Yes, including me,” he said gloomily. Then more loudly for the sake of Jones who edged closer, clearly suspicious, “Do you live in the country the rest of the year?”
“I’ve been at school in Bath. Now I live with my mother at Alloway Chase in Yorkshire.”
“Your mother doesn’t come to Town?”
“She isn’t well.” She stared at his black armband. “I’m sad to see that you’ve recently lost someone.”
“My brother died in January. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.” If Leath had warned Sophie away, surely he’d mentioned Peter’s financial woes. Peter’s calamitous mismanagement of the already sparse Thorne coffers threatened the family’s ruin, making Harry an even more unsuitable match for this lovely girl.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” He met her compassionate blue stare and his love, already powerful, deepened into something richer. “He was marvelous company and he’d go to the wall for the people he loved.”
“He sounds wonderful.”
“He was.” Harry found himself saying what he hadn’t said to anyone else since Peter’s lonely death. “I’ve lost my taste for pleasure. The whole world is gray.” Except when he was with Sophie.
“I felt like that after my father died.”
The late marquess had passed away four years ago. The nation had mourned the loss of a brilliant politician. As with his son, there had been talk of him becoming prime minister. Just up from Oxford, Harry had paid little heed. He’d been too busy kicking up his heels and adding a few more smears to the family reputation.
He reached to comfort her before Jones cleared his throat. Winning Sophie from the dragons who protected her wouldn’t be easy. For the first time in his shallow life, Harry burned to meet a challenge.
He glanced around and noticed that full day had broken. Riders emerged for their morning exercise. To save Sophie from talk, he must ride on. “It was a pleasure seeing you.”
She bent her head with a grace that hinted at the grand lady she’d one day become. Under the brim of her stylish beaver hat, Harry caught a gratifying flash of longing in her eyes. “I’m engaged for Lady Carson’s ball tonight.”
“Perhaps I’ll see you there,” he said, not meaning perhaps at all. He bowed. Jones’s watchful expression warned him that a kiss on her hand would take things too far, damn it. “Good morning, Lady Sophie.”
Pen stood on the inn’s terrace and stared at the rugged coastline below. The night was clear and she easily made out Genoa’s lights in the distance. Around her bloomed pots of spring flowers. After the frozen wastes, this seemed nothing short of miraculous.
The grueling journey drew to a close. Tomorrow, they embarked for home. This last week had been almost easy. The weather had been kinder and the roads in the more heavily populated areas showed considerable improvement from the goat tracks higher up. Even the inns were more luxurious, saving her from sharing a room with Cam again. Thank God. She still remembered lying awake, eaten with useless jealousy, while he’d stretched silently beside her, no more asleep than she.