She sounded an awful woman. Poor Dominic, to have such a mother.
‘What about the present Duchess? Olivia seems fond of her.’
‘I do not know her well, but they say it was a love match and that the Duke is very happy, even though she was only a soldier’s daughter. They wed five years ago now.’ She sighed. ‘Now that was a year for romance—first the Duke, then his brother Vernon and lastly their sister, Cecily. All in the same year, all love matches and all with unexpected and, some would say, unsuitable partners.’ She studied Liberty, who felt a blush heat her skin. ‘I wonder...?’
Liberty leapt to her feet again. She could not allow Mrs Mount to speculate. That way lay heartache, she knew, because if someone else began to think the unthinkable she just knew that her hopes would mushroom out of control. And she could not bear that. Lord Avon had his shortlist and her name was not on it. She did not possess the qualities he looked for in a bride and to hope he might change his criteria for a woman he only met for the first time less than a fortnight ago was stretching believability a little too far, even for her.
‘Please excuse me, Mrs Mount. I must consult with Mrs Taylor on dinner tonight.’
She fled the room before she could be tempted to stay and hear what Mrs Mount was going to say.
Chapter Thirteen
Bond Street, as usual, was busy with members of the ton shopping, Liberty, her sisters and Mrs Mount among them. Liberty’s heart was not really engaged in finding the perfect hat to go with Hope’s new walking dress, but she’d realised that staying at home brooding over Dominic would be even worse than being forced to exclaim at each and every hat Hope tried on, only for her to then discard it as being not precisely what she wanted.
As they exited the third milliner’s shop, however, her attention was grabbed by a high-pitched yelp and, half-hidden in a doorway, she caught sight of a burly man, wearing a bloodied apron, who had a squirming dog tight by the scruff of his neck as he raised his other arm. The thin stick in his hand swished audibly through the air and landed on the dog’s back with a resounding crack. A scream split the air, and a bloodied welt appeared in the dog’s pale golden fur.
Rage surged though Liberty. She raced to the man’s side, grabbing his arm as he raised it once more.
‘Stop that, you rogue!’
The man paused and eyed her with astonishment. ‘Get your hands off me,’ he growled. ‘The dog’s a thief and I’ll learn him a lesson if it’s the last thing I do.’
He wrenched his arm from her grip and lifted it again. The dog cringed, fear in its eyes.
‘Liberty! Come away. Please.’ Mrs Mount took Liberty’s arm and tugged her from the doorway, away from the man and the cowering dog. ‘Don’t get involved,’ she hissed. ‘People are watching.’
The whistle of the stick cut through the air once more and the dog’s scream this time was even more desperate. Gorge rose to clog Liberty’s throat. She snatched her arm from Mrs Mount and rounded again on the brute. He was tall and wide, his face showing no emotion as he prepared to hit the dog again. She couldn’t bear it. She didn’t care who saw her. She thrust herself between man and dog and shoved at his chest with all her strength.
‘Stop!’ Fear and rage in equal measures sent her voice soaring a couple of octaves. ‘You will not beat that poor animal!’
‘An’ ’oo are you to tell me what I may and may not do? That’s my livelihood, that is.’
He gestured to the ground, to a half-mangled joint of meat. ‘I chased that mangy runt from my shop an’ now I’ve got ’im bang to rights. He won’t be nabbin’ meat off anyone again. Not when I’ve finished with ’im.’
He shoved Liberty aside and she stumbled back, her shoulder and arm colliding painfully with the hard edge of the door recess. The man raised his arm again and she pushed her hands against the brickwork and propelled herself forward, again putting her body between the two in a desperate effort to spare the dog.
* * *
‘I wonder what’s going on over there?’
Hugo paused outside the doorway to Angelo’s Fencing Academy and drew Dominic’s attention to a crowd gathering further along the street. Dominic shrugged.
‘Some altercation or other, it looks like. Nothing that need—’
He stopped speaking as he recognised Hope and Verity clutching one another on the periphery of the crowd. He didn’t know, not for certain, but something told him Liberty was in there, somewhere. In the thick of it.
‘I’ll join you directly,’ he called over his shoulder as he set off at a run towards the crowd. He hadn’t even covered half the distance when he realised Hugo was by his side.
‘You don’t get to have all the fun, Dom,’ he panted, with a grin.
Dominic shouldered through the crowd in time to see a huge brute of a fellow shove Liberty against a wall and raise a stick high. He took in the scene in an instant—the pain and shock on Liberty’s face as she collided with the brickwork and the cowering, bloodied dog, its neck held fast by a huge hand. He recognised her utter determination as she thrust herself away from the wall. Rage boiled and he leapt forward even as Liberty pushed herself between the dog and that stick. He thrust his arm over Liberty’s shoulder and grabbed the stick just as it began a downward trajectory.
The brute struggled, trying desperately to free the stick from Dominic’s grip, as he glared down at Liberty and the dog she shielded. He hadn’t even spared a glance at Dominic, he was so intent on his target. He didn’t even appear to realise that, if he continued, he would hit Liberty.
‘Leggo!’ Spittle flew from his lips as he roared his rage.
Seeing the other man’s uncontrolled fury just made Dominic more determined to control his own temper.
‘I will take that.’ The man’s gaze snapped to Dominic. ‘Or is it your intention to hit a lady in broad daylight, in front of witnesses?’
The man paled and gulped, and his grip on the stick loosened. Dominic took it from him and handed it to Hugo, standing to one side of him. Then he stepped in front of the bastard who had dared to threaten Liberty and he bunched his lapels in his fists. ‘Don’t you ever...’ he spoke softly, ‘...let me see you again. Or the pain that dog suffered will be nothing to what I inflict upon you. Do you understand?’
The man’s mouth twisted. ‘It stole from me, m’lord. A man has to make a living.’
He felt a hand tug at his arm.
‘Leave this to me, Miss Lovejoy.’
She took no notice, though. Almost before the words had left his lips she was nudging him aside so she could confront the brute.
‘You are a despicable specimen of a human being.’ She glared up at him. ‘But even disgusting types like you need to make a living. Here.’ She cast a handful of coins at his feet. ‘The meat is paid for. Now, give me the dog.’
Dominic released his lapels and the man, with a snarl, thrust the pitiful dog at Liberty, scrabbled for the coins and then disappeared into the slowly dispersing crowd. In the absence of any means of holding the dog, Liberty grabbed its scruff, crooning to it in a low voice. Dominic placed a hand on her shoulder.
‘He’s gone, Miss Lovejoy. You can leave it now.’
She looked up at him, her eyes swimming. ‘Look at him. The poor creature. He is skin and bone. I cannot leave him to fend for himself.’
‘But what do you mean to do with it? It is filthy and no doubt riddled with fleas.’
‘It really is not your concern, is it, my lord?’ She regained her feet, but had to remain half-bent in order to keep hold of the animal, twisting her head to look up at him. ‘I am grateful for your help in seeing off that scoundrel, but if I choose to keep this sweet little dog then I shall. I do need some way of securing him, though.’
She gazed around, then her eyes lit up.
‘Be pleased to hold him a minute, sir, if you will.’ She thrust the dog at
Dominic, who had little choice but to comply. Next thing, she had removed her bonnet and was pulling at a ribbon that was threaded through her lustrous hair. ‘This will do nicely, I believe.’ She smiled happily as she thrust it at Dominic. ‘Would you be so good as to tie it around his neck while I put my bonnet back on?’
Dominic registered the sound of a muffled snort and he relieved his feelings by glaring at his brother-in-law. But he did tie the blue ribbon around the dog’s neck. It left a very short length with which to lead the dog, however. Liberty frowned as she studied the dog.
‘Liberty.’ Her chaperon, Mrs Mount, took Liberty by the elbow. ‘We cannot take that filthy creature home with us.’
‘Of course we can, my dear ma’am. Why ever not? Once he is bathed and his coat brushed, he will be quite respectable and he really does have the sweetest expression, do you not agree?’
‘My lord?’ Mrs Mount gazed at Dominic beseechingly.
Dominic looked down at the dog, who returned his look with a curl of his lip and an ingratiating grin. Then he looked at Liberty, taking in her outward bluster of confidence, but that same hint of vulnerability in her eyes that unmanned him every time he saw it.
‘I cannot see what harm it will do.’ Liberty’s smile was his reward. ‘Allow me to hail a hackney—that will make it easier to get the animal home. Hold him, will you, Hugo?’ He thrust the short length of ribbon at his brother-in-law, who grinned and stuck his hands behind his back.
‘I shall hail a cab,’ he said. ‘You’re doing such a fine job there, Dom. I should hate to let the little ru—darling slip!’
* * *
After they had deposited the Lovejoy sisters and their chaperon at their home, Dominic and Hugo elected to walk together back to Beauchamp House. Dominic was soon aware of Hugo’s amused scrutiny.
‘Something on your mind, Hugo?’
‘Just wonderin’ where the lovely Liberty fits into your future plans, Dom.’
‘Nowhere.’
Hugo shrugged, strolling on without further comment, swinging his cane.
‘I admire the way she takes a stand for what is right,’ Dominic said eventually, goaded by his brother-in-law’s continuing silence and his mildly sceptical expression.
‘Rushing in where angels fear to tread?’
‘Not at all! She reminds me of Olivia, as it happens.’
Hugo cocked an eyebrow and his lips curved. ‘Quite.’
‘Are you calling your wife a fool?’
‘Far from it—but you have to admit she used to act first and worry about the consequences afterwards. She has...er...mellowed somewhat in that regard. Since the twins. But she has always had her family’s backs and still does.’
‘That is what I admire about Miss Lovejoy.’
‘But that, my dear Dominic, was a stray dog.’
‘It is to her credit she did not ignore the suffering of a fellow creature, as so many others do.’
‘Something like you and your orphans?’
Dominic’s stomach clenched in warning. Oh, Hugo was a sly one...he could see exactly where this conversation was leading. He knew his brother-in-law well enough to know he would not continue to badger Dominic once he had replied to that initial question about Liberty, not like Olivia or Alexander might—questions that would inevitably lead to an argument. Hugo was far more subtle, skirting around the same subject until a less cautious man might let too much information slip. Well, he’d have no luck here.
‘Nothing like that.’
Hugo smiled and Dominic promised himself he’d make him suffer next time they sparred at Jackson’s.
They reached Beauchamp House and Dominic accepted Hugo’s invitation to come in to visit Olivia. He very soon wished he hadn’t, although at least Olivia didn’t plague him about Liberty Lovejoy. No. She was far more interested in his blasted list...and how he wished he had never written the damned thing! Or at least had taken more care that nobody but he ever set eyes on it.
‘Have you thought about Miss Whitlow? Why is she not on your list?’
‘Unsuitable. Her father’s a reckless gambler.’
‘And only a viscount,’ Hugo pointed out.
‘Lady Elisa Critchlow? Oh! I know! Lady Frederica Sutton.’
‘No and no. You’re like a dog with a bone, Livvy,’ Dominic growled. ‘Why can’t you accept this is my business and my decision?’
‘Talkin’ of dogs—’
‘Hu-u-u-u-go...’
Hugo opened his eyes wide at Dominic’s growled warning. ‘I merely thought the tale might distract my wife and stop her throwing an endless succession of names at you. It was, after all, merely a diverting interlude of little importance.’ He arched his brows. ‘Was it not?’
‘You know it was.’ But Hugo had a point...it would divert Olivia from the subject of his damned list. ‘Your friend Miss Lovejoy rescued a dog that was being beaten. It was nothing. Over almost before it began.’
‘With your intervention,’ said Hugo.
‘I shall ask Liberty to tell me all about it,’ said Olivia, somewhat absently. ‘Now, Dominic. What about Miss Fothergill?’ She frowned, tapping one finger to her lips, then sat bolt upright. ‘Of course! Jane Colebrooke! She would be perfect! So sweet-natured!’
‘Good God, no! It would be like marrying my sister! And that thought, at this moment in time, fills me with abject horror. Olivia...if you do not stop pestering me I shall never call on you again. Or are you trying to drive me away?’
Olivia leapt up from the sofa to perch on the arm of Dominic’s chair. She ruffled his hair and he jerked his head away. What did she think he was? A small boy to be humoured? He was the eldest, dammit. He had always been the sensible one; the one they listened to. Her arm slid behind his neck and she hugged him to her.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to plague you. But I’m worried, Dom. I can’t picture any of those women in among us. The rest of the family, I mean. I know Papa is a duke, but the thought of how some of them might behave with Aunt Thea, or with Zach, sends shivers right through me.’ Her voice betrayed the strength of her feelings. ‘We Beauchamps always stick together—I couldn’t bear the thought that anyone might drive a wedge between us.’
‘You’re being overdramatic, Liv.’
But his anger dissipated at her words—he knew how much the family meant to Olivia. And to him, too. But that would not stop him doing his duty as he saw it and as he had promised Mother. Make me proud, my Son. The memories, as ever, weighted him down.
Duty. Expectation. Responsibility.
Except recently they had also brought doubts creeping into his thoughts. Undermining his determination. And he shied away from examining those doubts too closely, for fear of what they might reveal.
‘You know me better than to think I would marry anyone likely to upset any member of the family. That is the reason I am taking my decision so seriously.’
‘But what is so wrong with marrying for love? We did. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Cecily did. Even Papa did.’
‘Father only married for love because the succession was already secure through his marriage to our mother.’
Olivia pouted. ‘I suppose I cannot argue with that, but I still think you are making a mistake. When do you think you will decide?’
‘Soon.’ His spirits dipped as he said the words: ‘I shall speak to Father when he arrives and, as long as he has no objection to her family, that will be it.’
His life sorted. It was what he wanted. It was what he had always planned.
* * *
‘Romeo!’
A sleek head emerged from behind the floor-length curtain that, a moment ago, was being shaken with vigour, accompanied by ferocious growls. Liberty marched across the room and took her new pet by the collar. It was the day after she had rescued him and already she doubted her wisdom in keeping him. Not t
hat she would admit that to the rest of the family, or to Mrs Mount, who were all extremely vocal in their condemnation of both her actions yesterday and her stubbornness in bringing him home. It had taken her two hours to bathe him and, by the time she had finished, the kitchen was in uproar and Mrs Taylor was prostrate on a chair in the corner, her apron over her face. It did little to muffle her shrieks. They had dined on cold meat, bread and cheese last night.
The name, Romeo, had popped into her head when Gideon asked what the dog’s name was and the resulting hilarity from her entire family had been enough to stop Liberty changing her mind. Even though the name, she silently agreed, did not suit him in the slightest. He was a rascal. Up to every kind of mischief, having already chewed a rug, one of Gideon’s slippers and now attacking the curtains.
Romeo gazed up at her, his brown eyes innocent and full of adoration, his head, with its two permanently upright ears, cocked to one side and his tail, tightly curled over his back, waggling his entire bottom. Liberty’s heart melted. She dropped to her knees and hugged his thin body close. And then, without warning, she was crying into his soft golden coat; sobbing, her arms tightening around him as he wriggled, trying to reach her face and lick the tears from her cheeks.
‘I must be cursed, Romeo. Bernard died and now there’s Dominic—so far out of my reach he might as well be a prince.’
She hugged the dog closer, as the agony of unrequited love clawed at her. Twice she had loved and twice lost. And now she felt she was losing Gideon as well.
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