Page 64 of All Duke and Bothered

But he did promise he’d tell her the secret. In Grandhampton Court, she hadn’t insisted that he tell her because she didn’t want to ruin the peace of that place. Besides, stressing him while he was injured had seemed cruel. But, perhaps, the main reason was that she was terrified the news he held would completely destroy them.

Now Preston was better, and they were about to make a decision on their home together. They couldn’t start the next chapter in their lives with a secret like that between them. She had to know.

She looked into Preston’s warm, dark eyes. He smiled as he met her gaze—as he had often in the past two weeks.

His hand in hers, she said, “Preston, we’re going to our new home. A home that won’t be Spencer’s. A home that won’t hold the memory of generations of Grandhampton dukes. A home that will be a clean slate.”

His smile fell and he nodded, looking down at her hand. “That is all very true.”

“Well… Don’t you think we’re now past the things that we held against each other in the beginning? Don’t you think we ought not to have any secrets between us?”

He didn’t look up at her, but his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “We ought not to.”

“You must know what I want to ask you, Preston. What was in the red leather folder? What did my father do that you must treat him so? What did you have that was big enough to buy me without money?”

Preston nodded again, his face stern and somber. The mask of London Preston was on, with his straight jaw and his hard eyes and his mouth pressed into a straight line. The carefree, happy, relaxed Preston she’d had for two weeks was gone.

He inhaled sharply and looked at her. All traces of warmth disappeared from his eyes. He removed his hand from hers and rubbed his chin. “I will tell you. I had intended to tell you, but, weakling me, I couldn’t bear to destroy the blissful existence that you had miraculously transformed my life into.”

She hadn’t expected that. “Did I?”

He looked at her like she was out of her mind. “Of course you did, Penelope. Before you, I thought my future would include marrying a cold, perfect lady who’d I never be able to love and drinking my way through the days until I died. I thought I’d feel lonely till the end. But then you came and showed me what I had been too blind to see.”

She swallowed hard. “I know that exact feeling, Preston. I’ve always thought I’d be alone if I followed my dream to be a professional artist.” She squeezed his hand. “But you showed me I don’t have to be. And I’d like to show you neither do you. I love you for who you are—a kind, loyal, slightly obsessive soul.” She chuckled. “I don’t know why you set out to get revenge against Papa, but somehow I know it comes from your deep loyalty.”

He sighed and shook his head, his black eyes watering.

“You may change your mind once you know. If Spencer wasn’t dead…if your father wasn’t involved in all that…I’d be the happiest man alive. Because I have you.”

Cold shock washed over her. “Spencer dead…” she murmured. “My father involved—in what exactly? What are you talking about?”

He brushed his hands through his hair and leaned forward towards her, his eyes so dark they looked bottomless. “There’s this club called Tyche. Have you heard of it?”

“I have heard of it,” she said. “Everyone in the ton has. A sinful place for gentlemen.”

“Yes. A gaming hell. Your father gambled all his fortune away there.”

Penelope felt pained, even though she already knew about her father’s folly. All she could do was nod. “Right.”

“That’s where you were auctioned. Bad deals are done there. That’s where gentlemen can make connections with men who do bad things for good money. Things a true gentleman wouldn’t involve himself with.”

Her hands shook. “What things?”

“There was a servant at Tyche, Noah, who told me something about your father. He broke the rule of secrecy, so he’s in danger now.”

“Goodness gracious.” Penelope clutched at her neck. “What was it?”

“He overheard your father inquiring after a man to—” He exhaled sharply and shook his head once. The next breath he took was shaky. “—to beat Spencer up.”

The world shrank around Penelope. Her chest constricted; she couldn’t breathe. “No. That can’t be right. Not my papa. Why would he want to harm Spencer?”

“Tyche’s owner, Solomon Eastbourne, threatened him and pressed him to repay his debts, and your father felt like he didn’t have anything else left of value but you.”

Penelope was going to be sick. She laid her hand on her stomach. “Me?”

“Your hand in marriage,” he explained.

“But how is that connected to Spencer’s death? You said, if Spencer wasn’t dead…”