What a Duke Dares

by Anna Campbell

“I’m not lying,” he said helplessly. “I’ve never lied to you.”

  “What do you want, Cam?” She folded her arms and her tone was uncompromising. The frailty had vanished. She looked like the fierce goddess who had defied the world on his behalf at Lady Frencham’s.

  He hadn’t deserved her praise then, but he’d been damned glad to hear it. The memory fortified his resolve. She’d taken risks for him. He’d take risks for her. She was worth it. She was worth it even if he failed ignominiously.

  He rubbed his jaw. “Once I thought I knew.”

  “Don’t toy with me.”

  She’d dragged him into this, kicking and screaming. If he wanted to dawdle over the last few yards before tumbling over the cliff, he would. “I wanted a wife who acted with dignity and decorum, a wife who couldn’t even spell ‘scandal.’ ”

  “You wanted a pretty little doll to decorate your playpen,” she said sourly.

  “An exaggeration, but only a slight one.” He linked his hands behind his back to hide their trembling. That cliff edge loomed closer and closer. “Instead I got a difficult, pigheaded termagant.”

  “Then you should be glad that she’s leaving.”

  He smiled. He liked this tougher version of Pen. “Oh, no.”

  “No?” she asked on a rising note. At last she stepped forward.

  The instincts that guided him through this impossible maze insisted that if she bridged the distance, he’d win. If he pursued, she’d run.

  He was a man who seized what he wanted. Playing the cool game nearly killed him. “Because while she’s undoubtedly endless trouble, not to mention inclined to rebel against her lord and master—”

  As he’d expected, that prompted a withering glance. To his relief, she was no longer the distraught, lost creature desperate to escape at all costs.

  His tone wouldn’t disgrace one of Genevieve’s scholarly lectures. “—she also turns my nights to fire and makes me feel alive every minute of every day.”

  Something happened behind her obsidian eyes. He just wished to God he knew what it was. Her lips firmed. Those soft, pink lips he’d kissed until he was drunk with the taste of her. “So you want me in your bed. That means nothing. You’ve wanted me in your bed since we met in Italy.”

  He smiled. “I think it means a great deal. So do you. And if we’re being accurate, I’ve wanted you since my first proposal.”

  Shock chased away what little color she’d regained. “I don’t believe you.”

  He shrugged. “It’s true. Hell, it scared the living daylights out of me. I proposed because we were friends and you understood my horror of messy emotions, not because you drove me mad with desire.” She still struggled to respond. “As you did. As you do.”

  “Desire isn’t enough.” Beneath the chilly tone, he caught piercing regret.

  “No, it’s not. It matters. But it’s not everything.”

  “Because it’s not everything, I can never be what you want.”

  “How easily you give up, Your Grace.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “What else should I call you? You’re my duchess and my wife.”

  “Much as you wish otherwise.”

  By all that was holy, she was a tough opponent. While he’d learned to respect her strength, he’d never before realized how adamant she could be.

  He poised on the cliff edge and stared at the sharp rocks below. Vertigo sent his belly on a sickening dip. If he jumped, odds were he wouldn’t survive.

  “You asked me what I want,” he said slowly.

  She stiffened as though bracing for a challenge. She wasn’t nearly as composed as she struggled to appear. Her voice trembled. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  He resisted the need to touch her. “The strange thing is that I’ve known for years, even if I only just acknowledged it.”

  She sighed. “You speak in riddles.”

  “Cowards often do. And I am a coward. I’ve recognized that too.”

  Inevitably the time had arrived when he must jump. He prayed that he’d live to tell the tale. He expected his voice to shake, but his words rang with conviction.

  He launched himself into space. “I know what I want, Pen. I want you to love me.”

  Since she was eight years old, Pen had imagined Cam asking for her love.

  Except this scene wasn’t quite right. In her fantasy, the words were different. I love you, Pen. I will always love you.

  Although she saw what it had cost Cam to speak, his demand didn’t inspire her to declare eternal devotion. Instead, it made her feel tired, as though a great weight pressed down on her.

  In the last six months, she’d lost a brother and a beloved aunt. Once or twice, she’d nearly died herself. She’d shouldered Harry’s troubles. She’d struggled to cope with becoming a duchess when she’d never aspired to the title. She’d always wanted Cam. She’d never wanted to be the Duchess of Sedgemoor.

  Most crushing of all, she’d denied everything she knew to be true and married Cam.

  Whatever physical pleasure she’d enjoyed, her soul had starved since their marriage. She had a grim feeling that her soul would continue to starve, even if she confessed her love, even if he trusted her again, even if he forgave her for this latest scandal.

  “Did you hear me?” His expression was wary, almost like he expected her to throw herself out the window.

  Pen realized that she must stare at him as if he spoke a foreign language. She supposed that when Cam spoke of love, that was true. “I did.”

  He stepped toward her. When she backed away, his face contracted with anguish. “You’ve got nothing to say?”

  She bit her lip. He was so handsome, especially now when his self-sufficient air crumbled to nothing. She couldn’t doubt that he’d changed in the last weeks. The problem was that he hadn’t changed enough. She came to realize that he never would.

  “You can’t make someone love you,” she said dully. If she’d learned one truth, it was that.

  His jaw firmed. “I can try.”

  “There’s no point. Just let me go.”

  The slashing black brows lowered. “Do you want to leave me?”

  She’d fled to Europe to escape Camden Rothermere. Right now, she wished she’d stayed there. “Yes.”

  He slumped back onto the flimsy bed and stared blindly ahead. “Have I done so much damage?”

  Her stupid, stubborn heart wanted to reassure him. But hard experience had taught her that every step in his direction meant another step deeper into pain. “No, I have.”

  He didn’t look at her. “I know I acted the complete ass about Harry, but, hell, Pen, I’ve acted the complete ass before and you’ve forgiven me.”

  She reminded herself that she did the right thing. “Don’t you see, Cam? While we’re together, there will be another scandal and another. Every time, you’ll lash out.”

  He turned to her, stricken. “I promise I won’t.”

  “That’s not a promise you can keep,” she said sadly, twining her hands together.

  He straightened. “I won’t give up.”

  She sighed, wishing this was over and she could go somewhere dark and silent to grieve. “The whole world knows that we’re an unsuitable match. London’s perfect gentleman and harum-scarum Penelope Thorne.”

  He stumbled upright and this time when he advanced, he didn’t stop. “I don’t give a rat’s arse what the world says.”

  Shock paralyzed her. “Of course you do.”

  “No, my sweet, misguided wife, I don’t.” He placed his hands on either side of her head, caging her against the wall.

  Her voice shook. “You’ve devoted your life to proving that a Rothermere can be a man of principle.”

  “Rather I’ve wasted my life,” he said bitterly.

  Bewildered, she stared at him. “You’ll rise above this scandal. Especially if I’m in Italy and you go back to being society’s ideal.”

  “If you run away to Italy, I’ll follow.” />
  “Why would you do that?” She’d been afraid that if she touched him, her resolve might weaken. Now she pushed at his chest. Even a blow to her head couldn’t addle her like Cam’s nearness. “For heaven’s sake, stop looming.”

  Desperation tightened his features. “Will you listen to me?”

  She almost wished he’d retained his imperturbability. She still had no idea why her decision to leave touched not just his pride, but some deeper level. “Cam, if I stay with you, it will only sully the family reputation.”

  To her relief, he lowered his arms. He remained too close for comfort, but she didn’t feel quite so surrounded. “Pen, I’ve come to realize that no man of character lives by someone else’s leave. I’m not responsible for my parents’ behavior. It’s time to say I’m Camden Rothermere, take me or leave me.”

  Now that she observed him more closely, he did look different, as though he’d sloughed off a demon or two. Despite everything, she smiled. If he broke free of the old scandals, she could only rejoice. “Cam, if that’s true, I’m happy for you.”

  “A man of character also stands up and says this is the woman I’ve chosen.”

  Regret bit deep. “You didn’t choose me.”

  To her surprise, he smiled. “Now who’s a fool? Of course I chose you. I think we were meant to end up together from the day we were born.”

  “You only married me to prevent scandal,” she said miserably.

  “I don’t care about scandal.” His voice lowered to a deep rumble that vibrated in her bones. “I care about you.”

  She stiffened. “It’s not enough, Cam.”

  “I’ll convince you that it is.”

  “I’ll be in Italy.”

  His gaze was unwavering. “If I have to go to the ends of the earth, I’ll court you as no woman has ever been courted. I’m going to win your love.”

  “But why?” she asked frantically. “This can’t just be vanity.”

  The frown returned. “Pen, don’t you understand what I’m saying?”

  Vehemently she shook her head. “You’ve always treated love as the enemy.”

  His laugh was harsh. “Love was terrifying.”

  Confusion still fogged her mind. “Of course love is terrifying. If it’s not terrifying, it’s not love.”

  Another harsh laugh. “So terrifying that I still run like a coward.”

  “You’re not a coward, Cam,” she said woodenly, tiring of this bewildering conversation. Lack of sleep must make her stupid. Or Leath’s blow.

  “Mere words frighten me.”

  When he grabbed her shoulders, she started. “Let me go.”

  “Not yet. Not until you hear me out.” He was ashen and the hands on her shoulders trembled. A muscle twitched in his cheek, always a sign of deep emotion.

  “Cam—”

  He spoke over her in a hard voice. “I love you, Pen. I love you more than I ever thought I’d love anyone in my misbegotten life. I love you so much that you make me shake. I love you so much that you have the power to consign me to eternal darkness if you leave me.”

  Amazed, speechless, devastated, disbelieving, Pen stared at him. Her heart stopped beating. Even in dreams, she’d never imagined that he’d say anything like this.

  “You’ve brought me to this pass. It started years ago. Before I proposed. Before the world’s longest wild goose chase to find another woman I wanted to marry. My affliction has only worsened since I found you again.” His voice cracked as the words tumbled out. “I know your gift for love. I’ve seen it over and over again. I covet that love for myself. I humbly ask for the chance to become the man you want.”

  Cam was made to command. She couldn’t believe that he loved her enough to beg.

  “Please, say something. Even if it’s to send me to the devil.” His hands clenched on her shoulders before, with an apologetic gesture, he released her.

  “Do—” She swallowed to release the scratchy words. “Do you mean it?”

  “Damn it, of course I mean it,” he said roughly. He reached for her, then reconsidered. That truncated, defeated gesture sliced at her heart.

  “If you don’t mean it, I’ll never forgive you,” she said in a rush.

  “You have no reason to give me another chance, but if you do, I promise to make you happy.” His eyes burned into hers. “Put me out of my misery. Tell me there’s hope.”

  She blinked away tears. Despite the anguish and violence and drama, today turned into the best day of her life. She caught one of the hands he bunched at his sides. “I don’t understand how this happened.”

  That muscle still flickered in his cheek. “I’ve loved you for weeks. But I’m such a novice to love, it was only when you leaped between Harry and Leath that I could admit to myself what you really mean to me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as if he relived the horror. “You’d die for the people you love. I realized that I’d die for you. It’s as simple as that. Once I accepted that, everything else made sense. Please, Pen, all I ask is one word to say that it’s not too late.”

  She felt buffeted by his astounding confession. Not yet happy. Not yet secure. But as she met his gaze, she believed him. Tears won the battle and started to fall.

  “Don’t cry, Pen. Please don’t cry.” Shaking, he cupped her cheek.

  “Cam—” Too choked to speak, she raised his hand and kissed his knuckles. A kiss of homage. A kiss of gratitude. A kiss, above all, of love returned. “You’re wrong. You are the man that I want.”

  The confession was so low and so weighted with tears, she didn’t expect him to hear. But he went instantly still. “What did you say?”

  Dazzled, she gazed at him. “I said I love you.” She sucked in a shuddering breath and finally confessed her oldest secret. “I’ve always loved you. You. Only you.”

  She saw hope leap, then subside under confusion. “But when I asked you to marry me—”

  She twined her arms around him and kissed him with all the love in her heart. His lips answered with an unspoken question. He wanted to believe her, but he didn’t. She’d felt the same when he’d said he loved her.

  Reluctantly she broke the kiss. “Of course I said no. How could I bear to live with you every day and know that you’d never return my love?”

  The green eyes flared and his lips curved in an exultant smile. “You have such pride.”

  “So do you.”

  “I should have damn well realized that I loved you when the thought of you drowning made me want to die too.” His eyes darkened. “Pen, I’ve hurt you for so long. I had no idea. How can you forgive me?”

  She returned his smile with a joy that washed away regret and bitterness. “Say you love me again.”

  “I love you.” He still pronounced the words as if they scalded. Staring at her like the most precious jewel in the world, he cradled her face between his palms.

  “You don’t sound very certain,” she said shakily, at last sure enough to tease.

  His smile widened until his face blazed with brilliance. “I love you, Penelope Rothermere.”

  “That’s better.”

  It was. The declaration resounded like a fanfare.

  “You love me.” He sounded like that was a miracle. “You love me. And I love you.”

  Pen was so happy, she felt like she’d swallowed the sun. She was so happy that she couldn’t stop crying. They’d come so near to losing one another.

  With a wordless groan, he dragged her into his arms. She felt more a part of him at that moment than in all their nights of unfettered passion.

  “So we get a happy ending after all,” she whispered just above where his heart thundered. The heart that he’d finally unlocked and presented to her. She’d never take that for granted. Never.

  His embrace tightened almost to pain. “I’ll always love you, my darling.”

  Curse these tears. She couldn’t stop weeping all over him. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”

  “Give me the next fifty years to adore yo
u and we’ll be equal. You know how I hate to lose a contest.”

  “I look forward to that.”

  “So do I,” he said fervently. “Now let me take you back to the Bear and Swan where I’ll prove my devotion.”

  “That will make an excellent start,” she said huskily.

  They’d journeyed their whole lives to reach this point. They’d been through the storm. Now they found safe harbor.

  After the years of wandering, Penelope finally came home.

  Epilogue

  Fentonwyck, Derbyshire, December 1828

  Pen stirred from a doze to find Cam sitting on her bed in the shadowy room. He gently stroked the hair back from her face and smiled when she opened her eyes. A smile so full of love that she curled her toes under the blanket. Even now, months after the revelations in that squalid Liverpool attic, she marveled that her dreams had come true.

  “Good afternoon,” she said drowsily, smiling back.

  “Good afternoon to you.” He kissed her with a sweet thoroughness that set her toes curling again. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like a grumpy elephant.” She let him help her up against the pillows. “Your son stays awake all night and he expects me to keep him company.”

  Cam laughed softly. “My daughter is troublesome just like her mother.”

  The friendly argument over whether their baby was a boy or girl had continued for months. In Liverpool when Pen had said that she might carry his child, she’d spoken true. Soon after they’d returned to London, morning sickness had set in. Then for a few blissful months, she’d felt marvelous. But in the last weeks, she’d just been uncomfortable and exhausted.

  “Boy or girl, this baby kicks like a mule.” She caught Cam’s hand and placed it where the next Rothermere emphatically made its presence known.

  “Another powerful personality.” He tried to sound ironic, but Pen heard his pleasure.

  “What time is it?” she asked on a yawn.

  “Nearly four.” He kissed her belly and rose. He crossed to the windows and drew the curtains with a rattle. A snowy afternoon filled the ornate room with soft light. “Why are you smiling?”

  He stared at her as if he beheld the most glorious creature on earth. Pen thought she looked like a hippopotamus, but she’d come to realize that her husband observed her with the eyes of love. The eyes of love found even the advanced stages of pregnancy beguiling. “The snow reminds me of our journey through the Alps. You have no idea how close I came to shoving you into a glacier.”