What a Duke Dares (Sons of Sin 3)

Mrs. Skillings addressed the man behind her, obviously the innkeeper. “Take the lady to our best chamber, John. I’ll bring her one of my dresses to tide her over.”

Pen caught a flash of quickly hidden amusement in Cam’s eyes as she returned the brandy glass. Three of Pen would fit into anything that went around the woman’s ample figure.

“I haven’t finished my examination,” the doctor protested.

“Aye, Frederick Wilson, and what sort of lady would she be to let you fuss over her in the middle of a public taproom? Can’t you see she’s quality? Do your poking and prodding once she’s upstairs, away from nosy parkers and resting in a nice featherbed.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Skillings,” Pen said gratefully, clutching her blanket. “Is there any word of our crew?”

“Oh, dear me, you wouldn’t know, would you?” the woman said. “The other boat came in before yours with three men. They’re in the private parlor waiting for Dr. Wilson.”

“Thank God,” Cam whispered. He addressed the stocky sailor who had steered them to safety. “Two more men went missing when the ship sank.”

“I’m sorry, laddie. The sea was bloody cruel today.”

Cam was still “laddie.” She noticed that he was careful not to reveal their names. Here in England, the Rothermeres were so well-known that the Pembridge title would provide no protection. After just escaping death, Pen found it difficult to care about scandal. But Cam had so much more to lose if word emerged about their travels. The thought soured the brandy in her stomach.

“Hiram Pollock, watch your language. There’s a lady present,” Mrs. Skillings snapped.

Remembering that two good men had perished made Pen want to cry. “Mr. Pollock, after what you did tonight, you can say anything you like.”

The man laughed. “Well said, my lady.” He shifted closer. “May I carry you upstairs?”

“That’s my privilege.” Cam passed his empty glass to the innkeeper and bent to lift Pen.

Gratefully she turned her face into his chest. The crowded room, stinking of wet wool and people of dubious cleanliness, made her feel faint. That, and her pummeled, aching body.

Cam hitched her higher and followed Mrs. Skillings. The crowd parted reluctantly. Pen had visited enough small towns to recognize the hunger for excitement that infected people who led generally uneventful lives. The Windhover’s wreck and the rescue of these well-spoken strangers would fuel conversation for years.

“I’ve had word of a yacht lost in the bay.” A pompous tenor cut through the babble like a knife through butter. “I demand a report. I take it most amiss that I am the last person to learn of this disaster.”

Cam’s breath caught in dismay. The muscles beneath Pen’s cheek turned hard as stone.

“Sir Henry.” Mrs. Skillings’s lack of welcome was audible. “We were about to settle his lordship and his lady in their rooms where they can recover in peace. I’m sure you’ll agree that was our first duty.”

Mrs. Skillings stood firmly in their path. Pen couldn’t see past her bulk, although she had a suspicion that Cam knew the man.

“Your first duty was to inform the local magistrate. Just who are these people you call lord and lady?” Sir Henry’s doubt of the castaways’ status was clear.

“Why, here they be.” Mrs. Skillings made a triumphant gesture.

“Who, sir, are you to claim the privileges of the peerage? You might gull a parcel of ignorant fisherfolk, but I’m a member of parliament and a regular visitor to London. I’m familiar with our ruling classes.” Rudely Sir Henry shoved Mrs. Skillings aside.

After his blustering claims to know the great and good, Pen had expected to recognize him, if only from sketches in the papers. But the red-faced, rotund man dressed too fussily for a country inn was a stranger. She sucked in a relieved breath.

Until she saw astonishment then delight transform his expression. “Your Grace!”

“Good evening, Sir Henry,” Cam said coolly. Only Pen, held close in his arms, knew how his heart raced. “I owe my life to the brave men of Ramsgate and Mrs. Skillings has been the soul of hospitality. If they delayed notifying you, they had due cause.”

“Your Grace, this is an unexpected pleasure. But what odious circumstances bring you to our humble town! I’ll make immediate arrangements to transport you to Kellynch House. The Leaping Mackerel doesn’t befit your dignity.” His eyes sharpened on Pen, who struggled to hide her sick apprehension.

After weeks of subterfuge, their efforts came to nothing. They were trapped in a scandal. Cam’s grand plans lay in ruins and she loved him enough to regret that to her soul. He’d spent his life compensating for his parents’ notoriety. Now, he’d face public disapproval as a man who, at the very least, kept a mistress even as he launched his courtship.

“I hadn’t heard that you’d married, Your Grace. May I wish you and the new Duchess of Sedgemoor every happiness?”

“Thank you.” Cam’s arms were like steel. There wasn’t a chance in Hades of containing the news that the Duke of Sedgemoor had survived a shipwreck. Not only that, but he’d gallantly rescued a female companion.

> Pen waited for Cam to deny the marriage, until she saw that Sir Henry’s glittering eyes focused on the gold signet. Strange that so much had been lost in the wreck, yet that lying proof of their union remained.