The Lady Gambles

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Oh, I say, Aunt—’

  ‘We must all take note of Mrs Wilson, Nate, if you are to make a full and speedy recovery,’ Dominic drawled mockingly over his friend’s protest.

  The other man shot him a narrow-eyed glare that contained the promise of retribution for Dominic’s defection at some later date. A glare that he chose to ignore as he smilingly took his leave. A smile that faded as soon as Dominic stepped from Mrs Wilson’s home, as he acknowledged that he could no longer put off his return to Brockle House.

  And Caro…

  ‘Lord Vaughn is here to see you, Mrs Morton.’

  Caro heard the butler’s words, but did not immediately respond to them.

  The first thing Caro had done, once Dominic finally left earlier that morning, was to strip the soiled sheets from the bed and attempt to remove the worst of the bloodstains with some of the cold water left in the jug; bad enough that she was aware of this tangible evidence of her lost innocence, without the whole household being made aware of it, too.

  Although she doubted there could be much doubt in the minds of any of the servants Dominic had engaged at Brockle House, concerning the events of this morning!

  To their credit, Caro could not claim there had been any evidence of that in the demeanour of any of the servants who’d brought in the bath and hot water some half an hour after Dominic’s departure, their manner both polite and attentive as the fire was lit in the hearth before the footmen placed the bath in front of it and the water was poured in.

  Caro had refused the offer of help from one of the maids, however, needing to be alone as she soaked in the bath and contemplated the events of the morning just past.

  Not one of those thoughts had offered any comfort to the situation in which she now found herself. Caro knew, at the very least, that she should feel angry with Dominic for having taken her innocence and yet somehow she could not bring herself to do so. Perhaps because she knew herself to be just as responsible as he—if not more so—for what had happened?

  She had wanted Dominic to make love to her this morning. Had desired him as much as he had desired her, to the extent that her chief emotion had been disappointment when he had brought an abrupt halt to their lovemaking. It was a shameless admission from a young woman who had been brought up to believe that women who behaved in such a way were wantons, no better than the prostitutes who roamed the streets of any large town or city.

  As to how Caro now felt towards Dominic himself…

  That was a question she had considered and then shied away from answering. Whatever her feelings towards him, it would be madness indeed for Caro to care anything for the Earl of Blackstone—a man who so obviously shunned all the softer emotions in life.

  That Dominic had now returned, as he had said he would, made Caro all the more determined that he not become aware of her own inner confusion of emotions. ‘Show him in, please,’ she instructed the butler coolly as she stood up to receive him with the same formality to be found in the sunlit drawing room in which she sat.

  One glance at Caro’s coolness of expression and the dignified elegance of her body was enough to tell Dominic that, even if she had not recovered from this morning, she did not intend to reveal as much by her demeanour. Aware of the presence of the butler, Dominic greeted her formally. ‘Mrs Morton.’

  She gave a brief curtsy in response to his abrupt bow. ‘How kind of you to call again so soon, Lord Vaughn.’

  Dominic wasn’t fooled for a moment by the politeness of Caro’s greeting, aware as he was of the utter disdain in her expression. As aware, in fact, as he was of how lovely she looked in a gown of deep lemon, with the sun shining through the window behind her and giving her delicate curls the appearance of spun gold, her light and floral perfume tantalising his senses.

  He waited until the butler had left the room and closed the door behind him before answering drily. ‘A visit you obviously wish I had not made.’

  Caro raised her light-coloured brows. ‘On the contrary, I am merely curious as to why you bothered to have yourself announced when you are the owner of this house?’

  Dominic frowned his irritation. ‘I may own the house, Caro, but you are the one living here—’

  ‘Temporarily.’

  ‘As such,’ Dominic continued firmly, ‘it would have been impolite of me to simply walk in unannounced.’

  Her smile was more bitter than amused. ‘And politeness is to be between us from now on, is it?’

  Dominic’s mouth compressed as he walked farther into the room. ‘It is to be attempted, yes.’

  ‘How nice.’ Caro resumed her seat upon the sofa, her hands folded neatly together to rest upon her thighs as she looked across at him serenely. ‘In that case, would you care to take tea with me, Lord Vaughn?’

  What Dominic would rather have was a return of the old Caro. The Caro who no more cared for polite inanities than he did and who opposed him at every turn. The same Caro who had defiantly assured him on numerous occasions that she would do exactly as she pleased, when she pleased. A Caro who, as far as Dominic could tell, was nowhere to be seen in this coolly self-possessed young lady who gazed back at him so aloofly.

  ‘Or perhaps you would care for something stronger than tea?’ she prompted distantly when Dominic made no answer, not betraying by word or expression how deeply his presence here disturbed her.

  She had no idea how a woman was supposed to behave towards a man who only that morning had taken her innocence, but had afterwards made it patently clear how much he considered that action to have been a mistake. She was sure, given the circumstances, that she should not be quite so aware of how magnificently handsome he appeared in a superfine of deep blue, a paler waistcoat beneath, his linen snowy-white, with buff-coloured pantaloons above brown Hessians.

  Although the expression in those silver-coloured eyes, and the hard tension in his jaw, showed he was far from as confidently relaxed as he wished to appear.

  The coldness that now existed between the two of them was intolerable, Caro decided heavily. Not that it was her wish for either of them to allude to the events of earlier this morning—it was, in truth, the very last thing she wished to talk, or even think, about—but she found the polite strangers they were pretending to be just as unacceptable. So much so that her emotions were once again verging on the tearful.

  She stood up abruptly to tug on the bell-pull. ‘You would prefer brandy? Or perhaps whisky?’

  A glass of either of those held appeal, Dominic acknowledged wryly. Except he doubted that even imbibing a full decanter of alcohol would numb the feelings of guilt that had beset him as he observed the changes in Caro. ‘By all means order tea for us both.’ He moved restlessly to stand over by the window as she spoke softly to the butler when he arrived to take her order.

  He could have been the male guest in the drawing room of any female member of the ton, Dominic recognised with a frown. There was the same politeness, the same formality and stiffness of manner he could have expected to receive there. The sort of polite formality that had never existed between himself and Caro!

  He drew himself up determinedly once the two of them were once more alone. ‘Caro, it must be as obvious to you as it is to me that we need to talk.’

  ‘What would you care to talk about, Lord Vaughn?’ she prompted brightly as she resumed her seat on the sofa to look across at him with unreadable sea-green eyes. ‘The weather, perhaps? Or the beauty of the gardens at this time of year? I am afraid, never having attended one, that I cannot talk knowledgably of the balls and parties given in the homes of the ton—’

  ‘You will cease this nonsense immediately.’ Dominic could no longer contain his impatience with the distance yawning between them. ‘I have no more wish to discuss the weather, the garden, or the doings of the ton, than I believe you do.’

  She raised haughty brows. ‘I thought I had just assured you that I would be only too happy to converse on either of the first two subjects—’

 
‘If you do not stop this nonsensical prattling, Caro, then I will have no other recourse but to come over there and shake you until your teeth rattle!’ Dominic’s hands were clenched at his sides as he resisted that impulse, a nerve pulsing in his tightly set jaw as he glared across the room at her.

  She visibly bristled. ‘If you even attempt to do so, then I assure you I will have no other recourse but to take the letter opener from the table over there and stab you with it!’

  Dominic gave an appreciative grin as his tension eased slightly. Better. Much better. Almost the Caro he was used to, in fact.

  He waited until the tray of tea things had been placed on the low table in front of her, and the butler once again departed about his business, before speaking again. ‘I had thought you might be interested in hearing how Lord Thorne fares this afternoon?’ He strolled across to make himself comfortable in the armchair facing Caro as she sat forwards on the sofa to pour the two cups of tea.

  She paused to look across at him. ‘He is well, I hope?’

  ‘Slightly better, yes. But, if I read the situation correctly, he is also being thoroughly suffocated by the kindness of his doting aunt, as well as browbeaten by the sharp tongue of her young companion.’

  Caro smiled slightly at the image this conjured up of the rakishly handsome Lord Thorne being fussed over by one lady and rebuked by another. ‘No doubt something he considers more tiresome than his injuries.’ She handed Dominic his tea before picking up her own cup and saucer and settling back against the sofa.

  There was a slight pause before Dominic spoke again. ‘Caro, we should have had this conversation this morning, but…’ He gave a shake of his head. ‘Emotions were such that I did not feel the time was right—’

  ‘I sincerely hope you do not intend plaguing me by enquiring again after my own health, Lord Vaughn!’ Her eyes flashed deeply green as she looked across at him. ‘I have already assured you that I am perfectly well and do not wish to discuss this subject further.’ To her dismay her hand shook slightly as she concentrated on raising her cup to her lips and took a sip of the milky unsweetened tea in order to avoid meeting the probing of that silver gaze.

  It was uncomfortable to sit here drinking tea together as if they were only casual acquaintances, but Caro knew she preferred even that to the humiliation of discussing the events of this morning. Just being in the same room as Dominic was enough to make her aware of the slight aches and soreness of the different parts of her body—all of them a physical reminder of their lovemaking earlier today.

  As she had hoped, the bath she had taken had eased some of her discomfort. But it seemed there had been no soothing the slight redness to her breasts from the chafing of stubble upon Dominic’s jaw as it rubbed against her tender flesh, or the slight soreness between her thighs every time she moved—a constant reminder of what had happened between them.

  None of them were things Caro cared to discuss with Dominic!

  Or things she should think of and dwell on, when he had already made it so clear that he considered their lovemaking to have been a mistake.

  If only Caro were not still so aware of him. Of the way his silky dark hair had fallen rakishly over his brow. Of how the hand he now raised to push back those dark locks had this morning been entangled in the golden curls between her thighs—

  ‘Would that we could dismiss it so easily.’ Dominic’s mouth had thinned with displeasure.

  She frowned as she forced her thoughts back from those memories of carnal delight. ‘I do not see why we cannot.’

  Could Caro really be this innocent? Dominic wondered. If so, then it was even more important that they have this discussion. ‘You were the one to mention earlier that there may be consequences from our actions this morning.’

  She stilled. ‘Consequences I recall you saying would be extremely unlikely.’

  Dominic gave up all pretence of appearing in the least relaxed as he stood up to pace restlessly on the rug in front of the fireplace. Earlier, he had been too shocked by that proof of Caro’s innocence, so befuddled by the intensity of his arousal, to be in any condition to think clearly, let alone have a rational discussion on the subject.

  Even now, Dominic found himself in danger of wanting to make love to her again rather than talk, as they surely must. To kiss the vulnerability of her exposed nape, to touch and caress the firm swell of her breasts, to part the soft curls between her thighs as he stroked the sensitive nubbin there before throwing up her skirts and once again thrusting his arousal into the exquisite pleasure of her!

  His hands clenched at his sides. ‘Consequences I said may be a possibility,’ he corrected stiltedly.

  ‘I do not understand?’

  ‘Much as it pains me, Caro, there is the possibility—remote, I do acknowledge—that merely by having penetrated you, you could become with child,’ Dominic explained as she looked up at him blankly.

  Caro’s eyes widened and all the colour drained from her cheeks as the cup and saucer she was holding slipped from her fingers and tumbled to the floor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Caro could only stare down numbly at the broken cup and saucer as it was quickly surrounded by a rapidly spreading pool of milky tea that threatened to wet her satin slippers as well as the rug in front of the fire.

  ‘Caro—’

  ‘Ring for Denby, would you, Dominic?’ Caro grabbed a napkin from the tea-tray and fell down on to her knees to wipe up the worst of the tea before starting to gather up the shattered pieces of porcelain, grateful to have this diversion as a means of avoiding answering Dominic’s previous statement.

  Caro was not ignorant about how babies were made; even if Diana, as the eldest, had not felt it her duty to discuss such matters with her two younger sisters once she considered them both old enough, it would have been impossible to avoid knowing about such things, when their father had often discussed the selective breeding for the deer and other livestock at Shoreley Hall with his estate manager in the presence of his three daughters.

  She had simply chosen to believe—to the point of denial—that such a thing could not possibly come about from Dominic’s brief penetration.

  ‘Leave it, Caro.’ He stepped forwards to take a grip of her arm and pull her effortlessly to her feet, maintaining that hold as he turned to speak to the butler who had entered the room. ‘Denby, could you see that this is cleaned up whilst I take Mrs Morton outside for a refreshing walk in the garden?’ Dominic’s expression was grim as Caro appeared too dazed to respond with her usual aversion to being told what to do, but instead allowed him to guide her outside into the sunlit garden. In truth, he was unsure as to whether she might have collapsed completely if he had not maintained that steadying grip upon her arm. ‘Caro, I realise the delicacy of this situation, but surely—’

  ‘Not now, Dominic,’ she managed to breathe. ‘I—allow me a few minutes in which to think, if you please.’ She stepped away from him, releasing his hold upon her arm before turning her back on him and walking over to gaze down into the murky depths of the fishpond.

  She looked so delicate, Dominic realised with a frown, so very young and vulnerable, as she stood there so still and silent. Unseeing, too, he did not doubt, knowing from the stunned expression and the pallor of her face that her thoughts were troubled ones.

  As troubled as Dominic’s own. ‘I have come here this afternoon to assure you, that if by some mischance you do find yourself with child, I will of course feel honour-bound to offer you my hand in marriage.’

  ‘Marriage!’ Caro appeared horrified by the mere suggestion of it as she turned to stare at him.

  Dominic had always been aware that he would have to marry one day. As a means of providing an heir, if for no other reason. But, if he had given the matter any thought at all, then the future bride he had imagined for himself would be selected from one of the families of the ton, a young lady of gentleness and obedience. She would certainly not be a stubborn and forthright young woman who refused
to so much as listen—worse, who wilfully went her own way no matter what advice was offered to her.

  He took a deep breath. ‘It is obvious to me, despite the circumstances under which we first met, that you were obviously brought up to be a lady.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Caro’s tone was icy.

  ‘And that for reasons of your own,’ Dominic continued determinedly, ‘you have chosen to temporarily separate yourself from your family. Luckily, no one but Butler and Jackson…’ and possibly Nicholas Brown, he mentally acknowledged ‘…is aware that Caro Morton and the masked lady are one and the same person. It is regrettable that you ever associated yourself with a gambling den, of course, but it cannot be changed now—’

  ‘I assure you, if I have any desire to change anything about my visit to London, then it is that I ever had the misfortune to meet you!’ Caro informed him frostily.

  Dominic’s mouth tightened at the deliberate insult. ‘Even so, if you should indeed find yourself with child, then I am prepared, in view of the fact that I know of your previous innocence, to accept my responsibility—’

  ‘I would advise that you not say another insulting word.’ Her eyes flashed in warning. ‘With child or otherwise, I would never consider even the possibility of ever marrying you,’ she continued scornfully. ‘Not even if you were to go down upon your knees and beg me to do so!’

  Dominic could never envisage any situation in which he would ever go down upon his knees and beg any woman to marry him, although the vehemence with which Caro dismissed the very notion of a marriage between the two of them was insulting rather than reassuring.

  She gave a delicate shudder now. ‘I knew you to be an arrogant man, my lord, but I had not realised you to be one so full of self-conceit, too!’

  Dominic felt the angry tide of colour in his cheeks at this further added insult. ‘These character faults of mine did not seem a hindrance to the desire you felt for me earlier today!’