“Do you need me to spell it out? I wager you’ve already guessed.” Hurtheven scowled. “You know how I feel about Pen. You’ve always known.”
“You love her.” Hurtheven’s image broke into two. Chev swayed. “You offered for Penelope, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Hurtheven held his gaze. “You were dead. Your cousins were practically drooling for her estate. You know if I had an inkling you were alive, I never would have offered.”
“Why aren’t you with her, then? Did you decide she was not good enough for you?”
“Lord, you are an ass. She’s too good for us both. She always has been. But, to answer your question, I would have moved heaven and earth to make her mine.” His cheeks darkened. “However, there are some things even I cannot do.”
“Like?”
“Like make a woman love me. When she’s still desperately in love with someone else.”
The buzz grew louder.
Pen did not still love him.
She couldn’t.
Thirteen years.
How could he want to hear something so badly, only to have the words singe and crackle in his ears?
“Even if Penelope wasn’t still in love with you,” Hurtheven continued, “her lack of affection wouldn’t be cause to deprive your son of a father, and your father,on his deathbed,of his proper heir.”
“I don’t give a damn about Ithwick.”
“Liar.” Hurtheven trudged off to collect the arrows and target.
Anger exploded in a constellation of red dots behind Cheverley’s eyes.
Hurtheven couldn’t understand.
Chev had done unspeakable things to survive. For Hurtheven. For Ash. For Penelope. For his son. In excruciating irony, the very capitulations that kept him breathing rendered him useless to anyone he loved, useless for anything but vengeance.
The thought of telling Penelope what he’d done—what he’d allowed the pirate to do—left his blood cold, his arms tingling, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his parched mouth.
“You’ve left me no choice.” Hurtheven cast the quiver at Chev’s feet, raised his hands and shoved.
Hard.
“What the devil?” Chev demanded, stumbling.
“That was for Pen.” Hurtheven shoved again. “Itoldyou. Sheneedsyou.”
She did not.
“At first,” Hurtheven continued through heavy breath, “I thought you complied with the Admiralty’s preposterous demands because you needed time to regain your strength. But it wasn’t that, was it? You becameconsumedwith the Admiral’s estranged wife.”
“Aren’t you confusing me with Ash?”
“Hefell in love with her. You—you put her concerns above your own.”
Hurtheven wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t right, either.
“I did take the matter to heart”—Chev’s vision blurred—“but it wasn’t for the sake of Lady Stone.”
Admiral Stone abandoned his wife—the woman he’d sworn to protect. Just like Chev had abandoned Penelope. He’d thought—God it seemed stupid now—righting that wrong would silence his nightly terrors.
