“Remember you? Why, when you sailed for Calais, you broke my heart.” With his famous urbanity, Richard pressed his lips to Pen’s cheek, the privilege of long-standing friendship.
For one fraught moment, Cam glared at the golden-haired fellow kissing his wife, and he wanted to thump the man who had been his best friend since their miserable days at Eton. With a shock he recognized two unwelcome facts. The first was that despite his plans for a sensible, calm marriage, his wife aroused a jealousy that wouldn’t discredit his father. The second was that the roots of this estrangement with Pen extended to long before his wedding.
“I see you still talk a lot of nonsense.” For the first time that night, Pen’s smile looked real. Cam’s jealousy stirred anew, even though he knew their flirting meant nothing and Richard was devoted to his wife.
“He does indeed,” Genevieve Harmsworth said drily. “Welcome to London, Your Grace.”
Richard kept Pen’s hand, curse him, while he turned to the lovely blond woman he’d married six months ago. “Pen, allow me to introduce my clever wife, Genevieve. The only silly thing she ever did was to marry a dunderhead.”
“Good evening, Lady Harmsworth,” Pen said.
“Your false modesty convinces nobody, darling,” Genevieve told her husband.
“I’m trying to be charming,” he retorted. Luckily for his continuing health, he released Pen’s hand.
“And succeeding,” Pen said quickly. “Lady Harmsworth, I’m a great admirer of your work.”
Genevieve smiled. “You know just the right thing to say. I’m still feeling my way in London. Fortunately everybody is so enamored of my husband that my odd ways go unnoticed.”
Cam glanced across to Jonas and Sidonie. To his dismay, both looked troubled. Did they disapprove of his wife? He had an unwelcome inkling that they didn’t find Pen unsatisfactory, but their old friend Camden Rothermere.
Cam broadened his smile until he grinned like a damn effigy at a fair. Still he knew that his show wouldn’t convince Jonas and Sidonie. They knew how to glean emotion from mere pretense.
Richard and Genevieve still glowed with wedded bliss. It must be perfectly obvious that Cam and Pen… didn’t. Bugger it, he should have avoided introducing Pen in such intimate surroundings. In a public setting, the cracks in their union might be less apparent.
Thank God for Genevieve, who turned out to be familiar with Pen’s writing. She drew his wife toward a chaise longue, asking about some excavations outside Rome.
Cam sucked in his first full breath since arriving. At least Pen wouldn’t feel a complete outsider. Genevieve’s welcome made Pen less the pallid Duchess of Sedgemoor and more like the vivid woman he’d known in Italy.
“Cam?”
Cam started from studying his wife to see Jonas extending a glass of champagne. He hoped that his expression didn’t betray his thoughts, but he had a nasty feeling that it did. He accepted the wine. “Thank you.”
Richard and Sidonie chatted beside the fireplace. Jonas showed no concern. But then, Jonas knew that Sidonie adored the ground he walked upon. Sourly Cam wondered what that felt like, before he reminded himself that the absence of love in his marriage was a blessing, not a curse. A wife who adored a man who couldn’t love her back would make a damned uncomfortable companion.
After ensuring that his guests had wine, Jonas returned to Cam. Cam braced for an inquisition. Jonas could be ruthless. Otherwise he’d never have survived the horrors of his childhood. But Jonas sipped his wine, then said in a neutral tone, “It’s a pity Lydia and Simon couldn’t join us.”
To save himself from having to discuss his wife, Cam leaped on the subject of his sister and her husband. “Lydia’s doctor has advised her to avoid travel until after her confinement in June. I doubt they’ll be in London for the season.” Not that his sister and Simon gave a fig for society. They were perfectly happy to rusticate on Simon’s estate in Devon.
“Do you plan to visit? I assume the duchess knows them both.”
“Probably in the summer. As girls, Pen and Lydia were as thick as thieves, although usually Pen was behind any trouble.”
Jonas quickly masked his surprise. Tonight’s decorous version of Pen seemed an unlikely hellion. “You’ll wait so long?”
Cam’s lips tightened. “I’ve got business in Town.”
“You’re worried about Leath?”
“Shouldn’t I be?” Cam sipped his wine and cursed the interfering marquess. “He’s working to oppose my canal bill. I can weather the loss, but Elias Thorne has invested in the hope of restoring the family fortunes.”
“You made a bad enemy in Leath.”
“We made a bad enemy.” Cam scowled into his champagne. “He’s alway
s had a reputation for upholding the law. One would assume he’d want to end his uncle’s criminal rampage.”
Jonas’s expression remained brooding. “I doubt it’s sympathy for his uncle that ranges him against you. Neville Fairbrother was a blackguard of the first water.”