What a Duke Dares (Sons of Sin 3)

“Credit us with some tact, Pen,” Elias said.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” she said with a trace of desperation.

“Come and stay at Houghton Park once you’ve settled.” Sadness shadowed Elias’s expression. “It’s shabbier than you remember. Old Peter wasn’t much of a manager.”

“He had a big heart and a generous spirit,” Pen said quietly. “I’ll miss him.”

“I’ll miss him too,” Cam said softly, a reminder of the bonds linking her to this man. “There was nobody like Peter.”

A somber silence extended as a benevolent ghost briefly hovered. A man who had been careless with money but never with people’s feelings.

“He’d be happy today,” Elias eventually said, smiling his approval at Pen and Cam. “He always considered you a brother, Cam.”

“Thank you.” When the butler appeared at the dining room door, Cam’s grip on Pen firmed. “Breakfast is served.”

With such a small and almost exclusively male gathering, social rules hardly counted. Still, Cam clearly meant to escort Pen. Through his glove and her dress, she felt the burning possession in his touch. The heat seared her, made her tremble with nerves. How on earth could she become his lover without revealing her feelings? The night loomed like a monster.

Harry touched her arm. “Pen, can I have a word?”

“Of course.” She turned to Cam. “I won’t be long.”

She hung back while Cam ushered the guests away. Once they were alone, she faced Harry. However different he looked, something in her soul insisted that he was the same: impulsive, generous, sweet-tempered, surprisingly steady in his loyalties.

He fixed his black eyes upon her. “I need your help.”

Oh, no. This didn’t sound good. She could barely hold herself together, let alone take on Harry’s problems. “Are you in trouble?”

“Not exactly.” His tone didn’t convince.

“Well, what, exactly?” Sh

e glanced behind to see if Cam returned for her.

“There’s this girl—”

A grim premonition settled in Pen’s stomach, souring the champagne. “You haven’t done something dishonorable, have you?”

Harry drew himself to his full height and surveyed her down his straight Thorne nose. “Not yet.”

Hardly reassuring. “Who is she?”

“Lady Sophie Fairbrother.”

He paused as if Pen should immediately understand, but she’d been out of England too long. “I don’t know her. Is she related to Lord Leath?”

“She’s his sister,” Harry said glumly.

“Harry, you can’t make a marquess’s sister your mistress.”

Anger flashed in his face and she realized with a sinking heart that this situation was much more serious. If she recognized the signs—and how could she not?—Harry was in love.

“I don’t want to make her my mistress. I want to make her my wife.”

“That’s aiming high for a third son with no prospects, Harry.”

“I love her and she loves me.”

Pen saw it was pointless saying that a young girl’s fancy changed with the wind. There was even less point in saying that a young man’s fancy was just as fickle. When Harry fell in love, he’d love forever. Just like she loved Cam. “If that’s true, let’s hope that Leath wants his sister’s happiness. You’ll have to offer for her.”