‘I am afraid I am of an age and experience, my dear Caro, when I doubt everything I am told until proven otherwise.’
There was no doubting that the cynicism and mockery of this man’s expression gave him a world-weary appearance, and that scar upon his left cheek an air of danger, but even so she would not have placed him at more than eight or nine and twenty. Not so much older than her own twenty years.
Nor was she his ‘dear’ anything! ‘How very sad for you.’
Not the response Dominic had expected. Or one he wanted, either; the wealthy and eligible Earl of Blackstone did not desire or need anyone’s pity. Least of all that of a woman who hid her real appearance behind a jewelled mask and ebony wig.
Could Butler’s assessment of her be the correct one? Had this young woman run away to London to hide from possibly an overbearing father, or a brutish and bullying husband? She was of such a tiny and delicate appearance that Dominic found the latter possibility too distasteful to contemplate.
Whatever the mystery surrounding this woman, he was of the opinion that neither he, nor his gambling club, was in need of the trouble she might bring banging upon the door. ‘Are you even of an age to be in a gambling club, Caro?’
She looked startled. ‘My lord?’
‘I simply wondered as to your age.’
‘A gentleman should never ask a lady her age,’ she retorted primly.
Dominic slowly allowed his gaze to move from the top of that golden head, over the slenderness of her body, the delicacy of her tiny wrists and slender hands, to the bareness of her feet, before just as slowly returning to her now flushed and slightly resentful face. ‘As far as I am aware, ladies are always accompanied by a maid or companion; nor do they cavort upon the stage of a gentlemen’s gaming club.’
Her little pointed chin rose once more. ‘I do not cavort, my lord, but simply lie upon a chaise,’ she bit out tartly. ‘I also fail to see what business it is of yours whether or not I have a maid or companion.’
Dominic glanced into the room behind her, noting the tray on the dressing table, with its bowl of some rich and still-steaming stew and a platter of bread beside it, a plump and tempting orange upon another plate, obviously intended as her dessert. No doubt that ‘bite to eat’ Butler had mentioned providing for her.
‘I appear to have interrupted your supper,’ he acknowledged smoothly. ‘I suggest that we finish this conversation later tonight when I, and not Ben, act as your escort home.’
Her eyes widened in alarm before she gave a firm shake of her head. ‘That will not be possible, I am afraid.’
‘Oh?’
This was not a man used to receiving no for an answer, Caro realised ruefully as she took in the glittering arrogance in those silver eyes beneath one autocratically raised brow. And her lack of maid or companion was easily explained—if she had felt inclined to offer this man any explanation, which she did not! To have brought either maid or companion with her when she fled Hampshire two weeks ago would have placed them in the position of having abetted her in that flight, and she was in enough trouble already, without involving anyone else in her plight.
‘No,’ she reaffirmed evenly now. ‘It would hurt Ben’s feelings terribly if he were not allowed to walk me home. Besides,’ she added as his lordship would have dismissed that excuse for exactly what it was, ‘I do not allow gentlemen I do not know to escort me to my home.’ A man she had no wish to know, either, Caro could have added.
Mocking humour glittered briefly in those pale grey eyes. ‘Even if Drew Butler were to vouch for this gentleman?’
‘I have yet to hear him do so. Now, if you will excuse me? I wish to eat my supper before it becomes too cool.’ Caro’s attempt to close the door in Dominic Vaughn’s face was thwarted by the tactical placing of one of his booted feet against the door jam. Her eyes flashed a warning as she slowly reopened the door. ‘Please do not force me to call upon Ben’s help in having you removed from the premises.’
A threat that did not seem to bother the arrogant Dominic Vaughn in the slightest as he continued to smile down at her confidently. ‘That would be an…interesting experience.’
Caro eyed him uncertainly. Ben was as tall as the earl, and obviously more heavily built, but there was an underlying air of danger lurking beneath this man’s outward show of fashionable elegance. An aura of power that implied he could best any man against whom he chose to pit the strength of those wide shoulders and tall, lithely muscled body. Besides which, Caro very much doubted that the Earl of Blackstone had received that scar upon his face by sitting comfortably at home by his fireside!
She forced the tension from her shoulders as she smiled up at him. ‘Perhaps we might defer discussing your offer to escort me home until after I have spoken to Mr Butler?’
And perhaps, Dominic guessed, this young lady would choose to absent herself without so much as bothering to talk to Drew Butler. ‘I will be waiting outside for you when you have finished your next performance.’
The irritated darkening of those beautiful sea-green eyes told him that he had guessed correctly. ‘You are very persistent, sir!’
‘Just anxious to acquaint myself with one of my own employees.’
She gasped, those sea-green eyes wide with alarm. ‘Your…? Did you say your employee?’
Dominic gave an affirmative nod, and took great pleasure in noting the way the colour drained from the delicacy of her cheeks, as she obviously realised he did indeed have the power to ensure she never performed at Nick’s again. ‘Until later then, Miss Morton.’ He bowed elegantly before returning to the gaming rooms, a smile of satisfaction curving his lips.
Chapter Two
‘I would prefer to walk, thank you.’ It was a little over two hours later when Caro firmly dismissed even the idea of getting inside Dominic Vaughn’s fashionable carriage as it stood waiting outside Nick’s—a man Drew Butler had confirmed to Caro was not only the Earl of Blackstone, but also the man who had recently taken ownership of the gambling club at which they were both employed. That aside, she had no intention of placing herself in the vulnerable position of travelling alone in his carriage with him!
‘As you wish.’ He indicated for the driver of the carriage to follow them, his raven-black hair now covered by a fashionably tall hat, and a black silk cloak thrown about those widely muscled shoulders.
Caro shot him a sideways glance from beneath her unadorned brown bonnet, only a few of her golden curls now showing at her temples and nape. The brown gown she wore beneath her own serviceable black cloak was equally as modest in appearance, with its high neckline and long sleeves.
She had bought three such gowns when she’d arrived in London two weeks ago, this brown one, another in a dull green, and the third of dark cream, having very quickly realised that the few silk gowns she had brought to town with her stood out noticeably in the genteelly rundown area of London where she had managed to find clean and inexpensive lodgings. And being noticed—as herself, rather than as the masked lady singing at Nick’s—was something she dearly wished to avoid.
To say that Dominic had been surprised—yet again!—by Caro Morton’s appearance on joining him a few minutes ago would be an understatement. In fact, it had taken him several seconds to recognise her beneath that unbecoming brown bonnet that hid most of those glorious golden curls, and the equally unfashionable cloak that covered her from neck to ankle, so giving her every appearance of being a modest and unassuming young lady of meagre means.
That dark modesty of her clothing opened up a third possibility as to why Caro Morton was living alone in London and so obviously in need of work in order to support herself. Her slender hands were completely bare of rings, but that did not mean she was not one of those starry-eyed young ladies who, during the years of war against Napoleon, had abandoned all propriety by eloping with their unsuitable soldier beau before he marched off to battle, only to find themselves widowed within weeks, sometimes days, of that scandalous marriage having
taken place.
No matter what the explanation, there was certainly very little danger of any of the patrons of Nick’s recognising this drably dressed young woman as the ebony-haired siren whose seductive performance had so easily bewitched and beguiled them all so completely twice this evening.
Himself included, he readily admitted.
‘Perhaps you would care to enlighten me as to why an unprotected young woman should choose to work in one of London’s fashionable gambling clubs?’
It was a question she seemed to have been expecting as her expression remained cool. ‘For the money, perhaps?’
Dominic scowled. ‘If you must work, then why did you not find more respectable employment? You have the refinement to be a lady’s maid, or, failing that, to serve in a shop.’
‘How kind of you to say so,’ she returned over- sweetly. ‘But one needs references from previous employers to become either of those things. References I do not have,’ she added pointedly.
‘Perhaps because you have never worked as a lady’s maid or served in a shop?’ he pressed.
‘Or perhaps I was just so inadequate at both those occupations that I was refused references?’ she suggested tartly.
Dominic gave an appreciative smile at her spirited answer. ‘So instead you have chosen to put yourself in a position where you are ogled by dozens of licentious men every night?’
Caro came to an abrupt halt, her own humour fading at the deliberate insult, both in his tone and expression, as he paused beside her in the flickering lamplight and allowed that silver gaze to rake over her critically from her head to her toes. ‘It appears that I needed no references for that,’ she informed him with chilling hauteur.
Dominic knew that it really was none of his concern if she chose to expose herself to the sort of ribald comments he had been forced to listen to following her second performance this evening, when the bets as to who would eventually become her lover and protector had increased to a level he had found most unpleasant. And yet… ‘Do you have so little regard for your reputation?’
Her cheeks became flushed. ‘The jewelled mask I wear ensures my reputation remains perfectly intact, thank you!’
‘Perhaps.’ Dominic’s jaw tightened. ‘I am surprised you did not consider a less…taxing means of employment.’
She looked puzzled. ‘Less taxing?’
He shrugged. ‘You are young. The comments of your numerous admirers this evening are testament to your desirability. Did you not consider acquiring a single male protector, rather than exposing yourself in this way to the attentions of dozens?’
Caro felt the flush that warmed her cheeks. ‘A protector, my lord?’
‘A man who would see you housed and suitably clothed in exchange for the pleasure of your…company,’ he elaborated.
Caro’s breath caught in her throat, that flush covering the whole of her body now as she realised that the earl was suggesting she should have taken a lover when she arrived in London rather than ‘singing for her supper’ at Nick’s.
A lover!
When Caro’s father had been so averse to any of his three daughters appearing in London society that he had not even allowed any of them to have so much as a Season, but instead had kept them all secluded at his estate in Hampshire. Had ensured his daughters were so overprotected that Caro had never even been alone with a young gentleman until now.
Although that description was hardly appropriate in regard to the arrogant Dominic Vaughn; that scar upon his otherwise handsome face, and the mockery that glittered now in those narrowed silver-coloured eyes, proclaimed him to be a gentleman in possession of a cynicism and experience that far exceeded his calendar years…
‘I believe it would not be merely my company that would be of interest in such an arrangement, my lord.’ She arched pert blonde brows.
Dominic was beginning to wish that he had never broached this particular subject. Indeed, he had no idea why he was taking such an interest in the fate of this particular young woman. Perhaps his sense of chivalry was not as dead as he had believed it to be? ‘Surely the attentions of one man would be preferable to being undressed, mentally at least, by dozens of men, night after night?’ he bit out harshly.
Her gasp was audible. ‘You are attempting to shock me, sir!’
Yes, he was. Deliberately. ‘I am attempting to stress, madam, how foolishly you are behaving by repeatedly placing yourself in such a vulnerable position.’
Her eyes widened indignantly. ‘I assure you, sir, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I am in absolutely no danger—’ Dominic put an end to this ridiculous claim by the simple act of pulling her effortlessly into his arms and taking masterful possession of the surprised parting of her lips.
He did it as a way of demonstrating the vulnerability of which he spoke. As a way of showing Caro how easily a man—any man—could take advantage of her delicacy. How the slenderness of her tiny body was no match for a man bent on stealing a kiss. Or worse!
He curved that willowy body against his much harder one as he took possession of the softness of those parted lips. With deliberate sensuality, his tongue swept moistly across her bottom lip before exploring farther, his hands moving in a light caress down the slenderness of her back before cupping her bottom and pulling her even more firmly against him as that marauding tongue took possession of the hot cavern of her mouth. Thrusting. Jousting. Demanding her response.
Nothing in Caro’s previous life, not the twenty years spent in seclusion in Hampshire, or these past two weeks in London, had prepared her for the rush of sensations that now assaulted her and caused her to cling to Dominic Vaughn’s wide and powerful shoulders rather than faint at his feet.
She was suffused with a heart-pounding heat, accompanied by a wild, tingling that began in her breasts, causing them to swell beneath her gown and the tips to harden so that they felt uncomfortable and sensitised as they chafed against her shift, that heat centring, pooling between her thighs, in a way she had never imagined before let alone experienced. She—
‘What ho, lads!’
‘Don’t keep her all to yourself, old chap!’
‘Give us all a go!’
Caro found those hard lips removed from her own with a suddenness that made her gasp, the earl’s hands hard about her waist as those silver-coloured eyes glittered down at her briefly before he put her firmly away from him. He turned and bent the fierceness of that gaze upon the three young gentlemen walking slightly unsteadily towards them.
Caro staggered slightly once released, knowing herself badly shaken by the searing intensity of Dominic Vaughn’s kiss—a punishing, demanding assault upon her lips and senses that in no way resembled any of her previous youthful imaginings of what a kiss should be. There had been none of the gentleness she had expected. None of the shy thrill of emotions. Only that heart-pounding heat and the wild tingling in her breasts and thighs.
Emotions not reflected in the hard intensity of his lordship’s expression as he signalled to his coachman and groom that he was as in control of this present situation as he had obviously been whilst kissing her!
The young gentlemen had come to an abrupt and wary halt as they suddenly found themselves the focus of Dominic’s glittering silver gaze, the three of them backing up slightly at the chilling anger they obviously recognised in his expression, that savage slash of scar running the length of his left cheek adding to the impression of impending danger.
‘We meant no offence, old chap,’ the obvious ringleader of the trio offered in mumbled apology.
‘A little too much to drink, I expect,’ the second one excused nervously.
‘We’ll just be on our way.’ The third member of the group grabbed a friend by each arm before turning and staggering back in the direction they had just come.
Leaving a still-trembling Caro to the far from tender mercies of Dominic Vaughn!
That trembling increased as he turned the focus of his glowering attention back on to her.
‘I believe you were assuring me that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and that you believe yourself to be in absolutely no danger from any man’s unwanted attentions?’
Caro felt a shiver run the length of her spine as she looked up into that harshly forbidding face; no wonder those three young gentlemen had decided that retreat was the best and safest course of action. She felt like retreating herself as she recalled how demanding and yet arousing that firmly sculptured mouth had felt against her own…
Her shoulders straightened determinedly. ‘You kissed me deliberately, my lord, purely in an effort to demonstrate your superior strength over me.’
His nostrils flared as that silver gaze raked over her. ‘In an effort to demonstrate how any man’s strength would be superior to your own—even those three drunken young pups who just ran away with their tails between their legs.’
Caro raised a haughty brow. ‘You exaggerate, sir—’
‘On the contrary, Miss Morton,’ he snapped coldly, ‘I believe myself to be better acquainted than you with the lusts of my own sex.’ His mouth twisted in distaste. ‘And if I had not been here to protect you just now then I guarantee you would now find yourself in an alley somewhere with your skirts up about your waist whilst one of those young bucks rutted between your thighs and the other two awaited their turn!’
Caro felt herself pale and the nausea churn in her stomach at the vividness of the picture he painted. A vividness surely designed to shock and frighten her—and succeeding? Those three young gentlemen had obviously over-imbibed this evening, and were feeling more than a little playful, but surely they would not have behaved as shockingly as the earl suggested?
She looked at him in challenge. ‘Then it is a pity that there was no one here to protect me from your own unwanted attentions, was it not?’
Dominic drew in a swift breath at the accusation. In the circumstances, it was a perfectly justified accusation, he allowed fairly. He had meant only to teach a lesson, to demonstrate her vulnerability by taking advantage of her himself. Instead he had found he enjoyed the honeyed taste of her as he explored the heat of her mouth, as well as the feel of her slender curves pressed against his much harder ones. To the extent that he had taken the kiss far beyond what he had originally intended.
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