‘No!’ Dominic suddenly wrenched his mouth from hers, eyes glittering furiously as he straightened her gown before he put her away from him.
Caro felt dazed, disorientated, hurt by the suddenness of his rejection. ‘Dominic—’
‘I may be accused of many things, Caro,’ he bit out harshly, hands clenched behind his back as though to resist more temptation. ‘And I have no doubt that I am guilty of most of them.’ His mouth twisted self-derisively. ‘But, married or not, I do not intend to add seducing an unprotected female guest in my own home to that list, even when I am invited to do so!’
Could it be called seduction when Caro had been such a willing participant? When she still longed, ached, for the touch of Dominic’s hands and mouth upon her? When just thinking of those things made her tremble in anticipation?
When his last comment showed that he was aware of all those things…
One glance at the savage fury on Dominic’s hard and uncompromising face was enough to tell Caro that the moment of madness had passed. For him, at least… All that remained was for her to try to salvage at least some of her own pride. ‘I did not invite you to seduce me, Dominic!’
His mouth thinned. ‘You invite seduction with every glance and every word you speak.’
‘That is unfair!’ Caro gasped at the accusation. Yes, her body still ached with longing, but she had only to look at Dominic to see the evidence of his own hard arousal beneath his pantaloons.
‘Is it?’ Dominic’s nostrils flared as his gaze raked over her mercilessly. This woman tempted him, seduced him, with just her presence. So much so that he did not believe he could be under the same roof with her for even one more night and retain his honour. ‘Go to bed, Caro,’ he instructed harshly. ‘We will talk of this again in the morning.’
‘I—what is there to talk about?’ She looked confused.
Dominic’s lids narrowed until his eyes were only visible as silver slithers. ‘As I said, the morning will be soon enough—’
‘I would rather we talked now!’ Her eyes flashed in warning.
A warning that Dominic had no intention of heeding. Damn it, he had been a commissioned officer in the army for five years, had been responsible for the lives and discipline of the dozens of men under his command; the temper of one tiny woman did not concern or impress him. ‘I have said the morning will be soon enough, Caro,’ he repeated firmly.
Caro’s cheeks flushed hotly. ‘I am beginning to find your arrogance a little tiresome, Dominic.’
He gave a humourless smile. ‘Then let us both hope that you do not have to suffer it for much longer.’
Caro sincerely hoped that meant his arrangements for her removal from Blackstone House were progressing as quickly as he had hoped they might; she really did not think she could bear to stay here with him for too much longer.
She sank back on the bed once Dominic had left her bedchamber and closed the door softly behind him; the tears that fell down her cheeks now were for a completely different reason than those she had shed earlier tonight.
What was it about Dominic Vaughn that made her behave so shamelessly? To the point that just now Caro had been practically begging for the return of his kisses, for his hands upon her breasts? Whatever the reason, she knew she was seriously in danger of succumbing to the temptation of those kisses and caresses if she remained at Blackstone house with him for much longer…
‘Will Lord Vaughn be down soon, do you think, Simpson?’ Caro enquired lightly of the butler at nine o’clock the next morning as she sat alone at the breakfast table, drinking tea and eating a slice of buttered toast.
What had remained of the night, once Dominic had left her bedchamber, had been long and restless for Caro, as she’d tried to fall asleep but was unable to do so, her thoughts too disturbed after yet another incident of finding herself in the earl’s seductive arms. All of those disturbing thoughts had come down to the simple fact that it was becoming nearly impossible for Caro to remain at Blackstone House, under Dominic Vaughn’s protection.
‘His lordship breakfasted and left the house some time ago, Mrs Morton,’ the butler answered her question.
Caro’s eyes widened. ‘He did?’
‘Yes, madam.’
Caro’s heart sank. Much as she appreciated the grandeur of Blackstone House, and the attentiveness of the servants, the mere thought of having to idle away the morning here alone was unthinkable, reminding her as it did of the tediousness of the life she had been forced to lead at Shoreley Hall for the first twenty years of her life.
Strange, it had only been two weeks since she had come to London, and yet during that time—and despite some of the more risqué aspects of her behaviour!—Caro had come to enjoy having control over her own actions. So much so that she could no longer bear the thought of having her movements restricted in this way, least of all by a man whose emotions she could not even begin to understand…
She looked up to smile at the attentive Simpson as he stood ready to provide her with more tea or toast. ‘Does his lordship have another carriage that I might use?’ Caro held her breath as she waited to see if Dominic had acted with his usual efficiency and left instructions with the servants to restrict her comings and goings from Blackstone House.
The elderly man nodded. ‘His lordship keeps four carriages for his use when in London, Mrs Morton.’
Caro’s heart began to pound loudly in her chest. ‘And do you suppose I might use one of these other carriages?’
The butler gave a courtly bow. ‘If you wish, I am sure one can be readied for your use as soon as you have finished breakfast.’
Caro released her breath slowly, her features carefully schooled so as not to give away her inner feelings of elation; Dominic had not had the time—or, as was more likely, in his arrogance, he had decided he did not need to bother—to issue the instruction that Caro was never to leave Blackstone House unaccompanied.
Not that it was her intention to leave for good. She was not so foolish, and knew enough to believe Dominic when he’d warned of the danger that might be lurking outside these four walls—indeed, the attack on Lord Thorne was proof enough! But a drive in one of Dominic’s own carriages, driven by his own servants, was surely safe enough?
‘I do wish, Simpson,’ she told the butler brightly. She stood up. ‘In fact, I will go back upstairs this minute and collect my bonnet and gloves.’ Caro hurried from the room to run lightly up the stairs, anxious to absent herself from Blackstone House before Dominic had the chance to return and prevent her from going.
Chapter Nine
Had Dominic ever been this angry in his life before?
He thought not; after all, until three days ago he had been in blissful ignorance of Caro Morton’s very existence! Now, after years spent totally in control of his emotions, Dominic found himself the opposite; one minute aroused by her, the next enchanted, but more often than not, furiously angry. At this moment he was most definitely the latter as he had returned to Blackstone House at a little after ten o’clock, only to learn from Simpson that Caro had taken advantage of Dominic’s absence and fled to heaven knew where. More insultingly, that she had made that escape in one of his own carriages!
Dominic paced the hallway as he waited for the return of that carriage so that he might learn where, exactly, the driver had taken her. And while he paced he listed all the ways in which he was going to punish Caro for her recklessness when he finally caught up with her. As he most assuredly would. He wanted an explanation as to exactly what she had thought she was doing by placing herself in danger in this way—
‘I believe Mrs Morton has every intention of returning, my lord.’ Simpson spoke diffidently, tentatively, behind him, having been made aware several minutes ago as to his employer’s displeasure at finding Caro gone.
Dominic turned sharply, gaze narrowed. ‘And what gives you that impression, Simpson?’
The other man gave a slight flinch at he obviously heard his employer’s continued dis
pleasure. ‘I took the liberty, after our earlier conversation, of having one of the maids to go upstairs and check Mrs Morton’s bedchamber.’
‘And?’ Dominic frowned darkly.
‘All of Mrs Morton’s things are just as she left them, my lord.’ The man looked relieved at being able to make this pronouncement.
As far as Dominic was aware, all of her things now consisted of only the few belongings left to her after her other gowns had been consigned to the incinerator and he did not believe Caro felt strongly enough about any of them to return for them.
Just as Caro had felt no hesitation in leaving Blackstone House the moment Dominic’s back was turned, despite his warnings. That, perhaps more than anything else, was what rankled, when Dominic’s whole existence seemed to have been invaded by her in the three days since they had met. Not a pleasant realisation for a man who had long ago decided he would never allow any woman, even the wife needed to provide his heir, to dictate how he should live his life, let alone take charge of it in the way protecting Caro seemed to have done.
Nevertheless, the circumstances of the Nicholas Brown situation were such that Dominic could not—as he told himself he dearly wished to do—rid himself of that particular imposition just yet. The fact that Caro had not only attempted to leave Blackstone House unaccompanied this morning, but had succeeded, showed that one of them, at least, needed to have a care for her welfare.
Damn it.
Dominic gave a weary sigh as he answered his butler, ‘I greatly admire your optimism, Simpson, but I am afraid in this instance I feel it is sadly misplaced. It would seem that Mrs Morton is dissatisfied with London society and has decided to return to her previous life.’ He spoke with care, mindful of the fact that no matter what the household servants might think or say of this situation in private, publicly, at least, Dominic must continue to claim Caro as his widowed cousin.
The more Dominic considered her disappearance this morning, the less inclined he was to believe that she would have left without first saying her goodbyes to Drew Butler and Ben Jackson…and Dominic knew both those men were at Nick’s this morning, overseeing the repairs.
‘I believe I will go out again, Simpson.’ Dominic collected up his hat and cane. ‘If Mrs Morton should return in my absence…’
‘I will advise her of your concern, my lord,’ the older man assured as he held the door open attentively.
His concern? Dominic’s feelings, as he climbed back into his curricle, were inclined more towards wringing her pretty neck than showing her concern. A pleasure he continued to relish for the whole of the time it took to manoeuvre the greys through the busy London streets to Nick’s.
He had been too hasty earlier, Dominic acknowledged as he entered the gambling club some half an hour later—now was the time he felt more angry than he ever had in his life before!
And, once again, Caro was the reason for that emotion.
As was usual at this time of day, the gambling club appeared closed and deserted from the outside, but almost as soon as Dominic had entered the premises by the back door he had been aware of the murmur of voices coming from the main salon. The deep rumble of Drew Butler and Ben Jackson’s voices were easily recognisable, as was the lightness of Caro’s laughter, but there was also a third male voice that Dominic found shockingly familiar.
The reason for that became obvious as Dominic stood in the doorway of the salon looking through narrowed lids at the four people seated around one of the tables: Drew Butler, Ben Jackson, Caro—and, of all people, the previous owner of the club, Nicholas Brown!
Admittedly, Drew and Ben were seated protectively on either side of Caro, with Brown sitting opposite. But that protection was completely nullified by the admiration gleaming in Brown’s calculating brown gaze as he looked across the table at Caro beneath hooded lids.
The fact that the four of them appeared to be enjoying a bottle of best brandy, at only eleven o’clock in the morning, only increased his displeasure. ‘I take it from your lack of activity, Drew, that all of the repairs have been completed?’
Caro gave a guilty start at the silky and yet nevertheless unmistakable sarcasm in Dominic’s tone, and instantly saw that guilt reflected in the faces of at least two of the three men seated at the table with her. Drew Butler and Ben Jackson instantly rose to their feet and excused themselves before returning to the aforementioned repairs.
Only the relaxed and charming Nicholas Brown appeared unperturbed at the unexpected interruption as he turned to smile unconcernedly at the younger man. ‘I am to blame for the distraction, I am afraid, Blackstone. After our conversation last night I felt I ought to come and see things here for myself. Finding the beautiful Mrs Morton here, too, has been an unexpected pleasure.’ He turned to bestow a warm smile on her.
Caro blushed prettily at the compliment, although that colour faded just as quickly, and a shiver of apprehension ran the length of her spine, as she saw the dark scowl on Dominic’s face as he looked across at her; his eyes were that steely grey that betokened banked fury, his cheekbones hard beneath the tautness of his skin, his mouth a thin and uncompromising line, and his jaw set challengingly. Although whether that displeasure was because of Nicholas Brown’s admiration for her, or because Caro had so blatantly disobeyed his instruction earlier concerning leaving Blackstone House unaccompanied, she was as yet unsure.
Caro was inclined to think it might be the latter; after the way in which he had left her bedchamber so abruptly during the night after rejecting her, she could not think of any reason why he should be in the least upset by Nicholas Brown’s attentions towards her. Although that man’s comment, concerning the two men having spoken together last night, seemed to indicate that Dominic had been telling the truth when he’d claimed he was not going out with the intention of visiting a mistress.
‘You must excuse my cousin, Brown. I am afraid she is fresh from the country, and unfamiliar with the dictates of London society that prevent her from venturing out without her maid,’ Dominic bit out coldly as he strode across the room to stand beside the table where Caro and Brown now sat facing each other. Although a brief glance at the tabletop at least revealed that she had a half-drunk cup of tea in front of her rather than having joined the men in a glass of brandy. Dominic wondered with abstract amusement where in the gambling club Butler had managed to obtain the china cup, let alone the tea to put in it!
‘I assure you, no apology is necessary, Blackstone,’ Brown came back smoothly. ‘Indeed, I find such independence of nature in a beautiful woman refreshing.’
Caro’s cheeks had coloured at the rebuke in Dominic’s tone. ‘I had thought to offer my assistance to Mr Butler after you informed me of the damage that had occurred here.’
Dominic raised dark brows. ‘And I had similarly expected you at Blackstone House when I returned.’
Caro raised her brows. ‘You had already left the house when I came down for breakfast, and I did not relish the idea of spending the rest of the morning alone.’
‘Perhaps I should withdraw and allow the two of you to continue this conversation in private?’ Brown offered lightly.
Dominic’s narrowed his gaze on the older man, not convinced for a moment by the innocence of the other man’s expression. With his dark and fashionable clothes and politeness of manner, he gave every outward appearance of being the gentleman and yet he most certainly was not; it was well known that he would sell his mother to the highest bidder if it was found to be in his own best interests.
Nor was Dominic unaware of the significance of the older man’s visit here so soon after their conversation about the attack on Nathaniel the evening before. It was only whether or not Brown knew of Caro’s identity as the masked lady appearing at Nick’s that was still in question…
Although Dominic could not attach blame to any young woman—including Caro—for being flattered by the older man’s marked attention; at forty-two, with dark and fashionable styled hair, and a roguishly handsome face,
no doubt the rakish Nicholas Brown was enough to set the heart of any young woman aflutter.
‘Not at all, Brown,’ Dominic dismissed with a casual tone he was far from feeling as he took the seat that Drew Butler had recently vacated. ‘My rebuke was only made to indicate my disappointment at not finding my cousin at home when I returned earlier.’
Caro glared at him beneath lowered lashes, knowing very well that his emotion had not been ‘disappointment’ at not finding her exactly where he had left her—he had been, and obviously still was, furious. ‘I am to come and go as I please, I hope, my lord,’ she said airily, choosing to ignore the retribution promised in Dominic’s pale silver eyes for this open challenge to his previous instructions concerning her movements to and from Blackstone House.
‘Not without your maid—’
‘Perhaps we should, after all, discuss this later?’ Caro interrupted what she was sure was going to be yet another verbal reprimand concerning the inadvisability of her having ventured out alone on to the London streets. ‘I am sure that neither of us wishes to bore Mr Brown any further with the triviality of what is merely a family disagreement.’
‘On the contrary, Mrs Morton, I find I am highly diverted by it.’ The older man eyed them both speculatively.
It was a speculation that Caro did not in the least care for. ‘You must forgive poor Dominic, Mr Brown.’ She reached out to lightly rest her gloved hand on the back of Dominic’s as it lay on the tabletop. ‘I am afraid my widowed state has made him feel he has been placed in a position where he has to act the role of my protector. Much like an older brother, or perhaps even a father.’
Dominic was not fooled for a moment by the coy flutterings of silky lashes over those blue-green eyes, knowing from experience that she did not have a coy bone in her gracefully beautiful body. Nicholas Brown was just as aware of her insincerity, if the appreciative humour sparkling in the darkness of his eyes as he looked at her was any indication…
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