What a Duke Dares

Chapter Fifteen

Leath House, London, late March 1828

I begged you not to go to James. Why didn’t you listen?”

Vibrating with fury, Sophie paced the small Chinese summerhouse. The swish of daffodil yellow skirts added an incongruously sunny note to her tirade.

“I’m sorry.” Harry slumped onto the bench and endured his beloved’s perfectly justified temper. He hadn’t spoken one word to Sophie since his disastrous meeting with her brother three days ago. “I loathe sneaking around. I wanted everything aboveboard.”

“I told you he wouldn’t countenance your suit. I told you he wanted me to marry Desborough.”

Of necessity, she kept her voice low. Discovery remained a whisper away, however well concealed this pavilion. It was late afternoon and the gardeners had finished for the day. The servants had dinner inside the house. Leath plotted parliamentary maneuvers at his club.

“I hoped he’d give me a chance.”

She stopped prowling and glared at Harry until he winced. “You should have trusted me when I said he wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I should have.” Self-disgust twisted his gut. “But, Sophie, an honorable man doesn’t risk compromising the woman he loves.”

Her rage didn’t abate. He hadn’t expected that it would. “Now James is sending me to my great-aunt in Northumberland.”

He’d expected something like this, but hearing about it still struck him like a blow. He fought back the despair that had gripped him since Leath’s brusque dismissal. “I’ll follow you.”

She shook her head. “My great-aunt is a dragon and she lives in the middle of a village full of busybodies. James told her that I’m allowed to go to church and that’s it.”

Harry surged to his feet and seized her hands. “When do you leave?”

Halfheartedly she tried to pull away. “Tomorrow.”

His heart plunged. “So soon?”

“Yes.”

Still Harry refused to accept that Leath had won. “And how long are you away?”

“A month.” Tears trembled on Sophie’s long eyelashes. “If I’m good.”

Harry wanted to curse Leath’s tyranny, but he was worldly enough to recognize that the man acted in what he considered were Sophie’s best interests. “I’m up to circumventing a mere aunt.”

An unconvincing attempt at a smile. “She’s not a mere aunt. She’s a bluestocking and a man-hater and she has huge dogs.”

“For you, I’d brave a pack of hungry lions. What’s a dog or two?”

“Harry, stop it,” she said on a pleading note. “When we’re parted, you’ll forget me.”

Shock made him drop her hands and step back, drawing up to his full height until he towered over her. “What the hell do you mean?”

She twisted her hands in her filmy skirts. “There are so many pretty debutantes this year.”

“Oh, my darling.” Devastation flooded him. How could she think him so fickle? He caught her in his arms. “Never, never think that.”

“How can I help it? James does nothing but talk about your intrigues.” She stood stiffly in his embrace. “You’re so handsome and charming. Every girl in London wants you.”

He was appalled to realize that this vulnerability predated today’s quarrel. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.” His voice lowered. “I’ve laid my heart at your feet, sweetheart, and there it will stay. I’ll kindly ask you not to kick it.”

“Of course I won’t kick it.” He was mightily relieved to see the doubt fade from her eyes. “I’m glad that you’ll love me forever.”

“Forever. So what’s a month?” Endless purgatory, but he didn’t say that. “We can write.”

She rested her head on his chest. Touching her made Harry’s world revolve in the right direction. Heaven help him if she succumbed to family pressure and accepted Desborough. Harry would be useless to man and beast.

“No, we can’t. I need to buckle down and behave or James won’t let me finish the season. He said he’s happy to let me rusticate until I marry Desborough.”

Harry’s heart pounded in frantic denial against her cheek. “You’re not marrying Desborough.”

“I don’t want to.” She released a broken sigh. “Why is this so difficult? I think I hate James.”

“No, you don’t. He’s just trying to protect you.”

“But he won’t let me marry you. He was scathing about your request to court me.”

Harry grimaced. “I’ll wager he was more scathing to my face. It was perfectly clear that he’d give you to a rabid dog before he’d give you to Harry Thorne.”

She stared at him. “If he knew you as I do, he’d understand.”

“Perhaps.” Harry was far from sure. “He isn’t completely wrong, my darling. I have no fortune and the world considers me a wastrel. Even if we marry, I only have my allowance from Elias and even that’s looking devilish shaky right now.” His voice descended into glumness. “Perhaps you’d be better off marrying someone else.”

She frowned as if he’d offered her an insult. “Do you love me, Harry Thorne?”

“You know I do.”

“Then that’s the only qualification you need to be my husband.” She watched him steadily. “We’ll work the rest out.”

He smiled. “You’ll make a dashed fine wife, Sophie.”

She smiled back. “Because I sew a fine seam and I play the piano like an angel?”

“Do you? By Jove, those are useful skills if we’re left on our uppers.”

“Don’t joke, Harry,” she said.

His smile broadened, even as his heart ached at their looming separation. He’d had three days of living in gray limbo without her. A month seemed like torture. “And because you’re the bravest girl I know.”

The teasing light in her eyes dimmed. “I’ll have to be brave if I’m in Northumberland.”

He couldn’t resist kissing her. “Courage, Sophie. If we’re true to one another, nobody can part us.”

“Do you believe that? It seems too optimistic.”

“I’m a man in love. I eat optimism for breakfast.”

As he’d hoped, his silly response raised a smile. “You’re a fool.”

“I’m your fool.” With one hand under her chin, he tipped her face until he drowned in her huge blue eyes.

He desperately hoped that he deserved the trust he read there. Nobody had ever relied on him. As the youngest and most charming of the reckless Thornes, he’d never taken responsibility for anything. He swore that lack of practice in responsibility wouldn’t scuttle his plans. He intended to become the world’s best husband. If he had his way, Sophie would never suffer a moment’s unhappiness.

“Now kiss me good-bye.” He forced a smile. He wanted her to retain a memory of pleasure amidst all the turmoil. “Make it good. It needs to last me until you return.”

She rose on her toes and laced her hands around his neck. “If you put it like that.”

His brief humor dissolved to ash under her passionate assault. After a surprised hesitation, his arms lashed around her and he pressed her full-length against him. He wanted to remember her warmth and scent, and the soft sounds of her excitement.

His hands firmed on her hips and he kissed her back, telling her with his lips that he loved her and he’d miss her and the hours without her would feel like eternity. He also silently assured her that in time, they’d be together.

Eventually he raised his head, knowing that if he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t stop until he’d lost all pretensions to honor. He pressed her against his heart, resting his chin on her head. Breathing unsteadily, he struggled for calm.

“You must go,” she said with audible regret. “If James catches us, he’ll send me further than Northumberland.”

Harry kissed her briefly. “I’d follow you to the ends of the earth.”

Disconsolately she surveyed him. “If James gets his way, you may have to.”