Reckless in Pink

by Lynne Connolly

  “We can hope so.” He held out his arm. “Let’s go back before they miss us. People are watching us for just such incidents as this. If we spend too much time out of the view of interested parties, they will assume our betrothal is done and dusted.”

  With a snarl and a growl, she pushed past him, aware as she did so that she couldn’t have done it had he wished her not to. That infuriated her, too. What wasn’t he telling her?

  With a smile he ensured she didn’t see, Dominic followed Claudia back to the ballroom. This house had several large reception rooms, and they’d opened them all. They stretched in enfilade on the first floor, up the staircase that swept up in graceful curves from the ground floor. An elegant residence. It amazed him that at one time London had many more. They’d all gone now, replaced with the long streets and wide squares of Mayfair with houses that appeared the same from the outside at least. Like the one he lived in.

  All the doors were open. The spectator could see straight through from the large room at the end, currently designated the ballroom, to a closed door four rooms away. Everyone in that line of sight was on display, part of the way society worked. This was one of the “must” balls of the season, one that everyone would try to attend. If they weren’t seen there, it would be assumed that they were not invited.

  Dominic strode into the first room, pursuing his quarry, and then the second, a smaller room where people chatted and took refreshments. Farther on was a smaller room and after that, the card room. He’d already seen it and wistfully thought of a quiet evening with a few friends, several bottles of wine and some packs of cards. He hadn’t had a convivial evening like that for a long time.

  This would most definitely not be one of them.

  Her lavender gown swept the ground before him, but he didn’t try to catch up with her until they reached the second room. Then, before any other of her suitors could do so, he quickened his pace. He appeared by her side, courteously offering him the support of her arm. She’d just opened her mouth to speak when another voice sounded form behind them.

  “There you are!”

  A perfumed elegant man in a pink as delicate as any woman wore glided up to them with all the elegance of a swan. He bowed, all sinuous grace, and took her hand. “Claudia, I declare you are finer than any other woman present!”

  “I’ll wager you said that to my mother, too,” she said with a grin.

  Dominic and the newcomer bowed to each other. “My lord,” the man said, and “My lord,” he replied. Lord Winterton, son and heir of the Duke of Kirkburton, who owned this house, gave him a considering smile.

  Dominic wore eau-de-nil, but he’d tempered the delicate green of his coat by having it made up in a twilled silk. Winterton had no such qualms. His pink coat gleamed with a surface so glossy it was almost reflective. If Dominic was considered a dandy, Winterton took the art to atmospheric levels.

  He wore a patch in the shape of a heart next to one eye. Dominic noted the paint on his face with a jaded lift of one brow. Winterton smiled blandly as if he hadn’t seen Dominic’s unspoken comment. This man missed nothing.

  “I am delighted to see you here, St. Just. It means I may destroy the note I had written to you.”

  “You have news?” Claudia asked.

  Dominic held back. Winterton was waiting for his response, watching him carefully. “I have no idea why you would wish to see me, but of course a summons from you is always an honor.”

  Instead of taking offence, Winterton’s mouth moved in an infinitesimal way as he bowed. “You’re very kind. I wished to discuss certain matters that we have in common. A person I employed to fulfill a particular task happened to notice your presence in a place I was not aware you knew of.”

  Dominic followed the convoluted explanation without difficulty. He was used to discussing private matters in public too. “I saw nobody.” Since he was used to spotting spies, Winterton’s employees had to be skillful. “I thought I stood there a little too long,” he commented. “No doubt you know what I was doing there.”

  “Probably.” Winterton smiled broadly, but his voice held no amusement. “I would appreciate you leaving the place to me. It is, after all, a family matter.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “I don’t pretend to know what you are talking about.” Claudia sniffed. “I will find out. I can guess enough.”

  This time, Winterton’s smile was genuine. “You’re an intelligent woman, Claudia, but a mite too inquisitive at times.”

  Had he seen Claudia at that house? Apprehension tensed Dominic’s muscles, but he kept his stance carefully relaxed, praying Winterton hadn’t seen the light twitch of his little finger.

  Winterton’s cold blue gaze switched from Dominic’s face to his hand. Of course he had seen. He said nothing about it. He would have noted Dominic’s reaction, though. Dominic had never met Winterton for more than an exchange of courtesies. Now he wished he’d kept that up, because close up the man was as formidable as his reputation.

  Not that most people knew it. To them he was a wealthy fop, one of many in society, who did nothing while spending much. However, in certain circles, such as the ones Dominic had frequented from time to time, he’d heard rumors. The man was powerful, intelligent, and curious. Dangerous, in other words.

  Winterton was a loyalist, so at least on the surface he should be Dominic’s ally, but the earl put his family first. Everybody knew that—“everybody” being the shadowy people behind the people ostensibly in power.

  Far Dominic didn’t trust him. “Sir, you should know of my interest in your cousin,” he said. “I have certainly made no secret of it.”

  “Indeed, we wait daily upon an announcement.” He said it without inflection, as a bored man about town. “Was your recent absence an advance in that sphere?”

  “Alas, no.” Their absence had been noted. This was Winterton’s way of telling him. “I attempted the question, but the lady is too clever for me.” He heaved a theatrical sigh. “She would not answer, and fearing the gods of propriety would follow us, I escorted her back here.”

  Her cicisbei could breathe sighs of relief. Claudia had quite a court.

  “The last time you saw us, Julius, you were convinced you could not tell Livia and me apart,” Claudia said. “I’m surprised you find you can do it with such ease.”

  Winterton turned a bland smile on her. “Indeed, I have learned the way. Tonight you’re wearing lavender, and your lovely sister is in pale blue. She is in the ballroom, enjoying the company.” He addressed Dominic next. “I wonder you can tell them apart, sir. How do you do it?”

  “I have no difficulty,” he said. It was true. He would know her anywhere, could pick her out unhesitatingly had she been one of three or four. He had no idea how he knew, but he did. He would never confuse the sisters. “Were you ever taken as each other?”

  She laughed, a bright unshadowed sound that he immediately wanted to hear again.

  “We used to play at it. Mama would put us in different gowns so that the company would have no difficulty telling us apart, and we would slip away and exchange them. Even my studious sister has her lighter side.”

  “I suspect you coerced her into it,” Winterton said with a smile that was decidedly fond. “You never tricked me.”

  “No, I don’t suppose we did, Julius, but you were good enough to pretend sometimes.”

  His smile broadened. “Yes, I did.” He blinked, and if melancholy shadowed the earl’s eyes, it was gone when Winterton turned his attention back to him. “You will not bring any member of my family into your games.” He spoke quietly, steadily, always with that damned smile on his face, but his voice held a menacing note. Winterton’s words held no threat. They were a promise, the “or else” unspoken but understood.

  “That is the last thing I wish for. Sir, I believe we have business to discuss. I will call on you tomorrow, if you have the time.”

  Winterton nodded. “Unfortunately, I am engaged for the whole of tomo
rrow, but I agree, we need to discuss various matters. However, I would suggest the day after, at eleven, if you please. Do not come to my house for our meeting. I will speak to Strenshall, my uncle, and we may meet at his house.”

  “Agreed.” Their mutual enemy could get to hear of Dominic visiting Winterton and become alarmed. However, he was already courting Claudia, so visiting her house would be considered unexceptional. He bestowed a smile on the earl as pleasant as the ones Winterton had given him. “I look forward to it.”

  Winterton bowed and moved away, after soliciting a dance from Claudia later. To the casual viewer, this was less the sight of two male stags locking antlers for the first time than two fops assessing each other’s costumes and manners.

  Dominic preferred to keep it that way for now, although already he was tiring of the pose.

  When he glanced away, to ensure nobody was paying them particular attention, he met the gaze of a fat man with protuberant blue eyes.

  At the same time as he made the connection, Claudia gasped. “That’s him!”

  Dominic’s smile changed to a rictus. He didn’t have to turn to know that Winterton had returned and was standing behind him. “Leave this to me, if you please. I’ll have him removed, and it will be as if he were never here.”

  This was Winterton’s parents’ house, so he had the right.

  He stared at the Pretender and the Pretender stared back. If matters had turned out differently, he’d be bowing to the man and calling him “Your Highness.” Charles Stuart had wrecked his chances of that nearly ten years ago. The years had not been kind to him, or he had not been kind to the years. Nobody had actually poured the wine down his throat and forced him to eat too much rich food and take too little exercise.

  Dominic did not bow. Instead, he offered Claudia his arm. The men were too far away to speak, but that was as well, since fury simmered through him. He took her through to the smaller room away from the Pretender while Winterton dealt with the intruder. He didn’t hear a sound, but he didn’t turn to watch the way the ejection was accomplished.

  He was sure it was done with the greatest respect.

  Chapter 7

  Since sleep eluded him for much of the night, Dominic rose early and went for an invigorating ride in the Park. Unfortunately, Hyde Park contained a number of fashionable carriages and riders, even at this hour. So he couldn’t undertake the flat-out gallop both he and his restless mount would have preferred. But he did break into a reckless canter once or twice, so they made do with that.

  On returning to his house, he discovered he had not been the only person up early that day. Instead of having the family house opened for him, he’d hired a smaller place that suited him better in the fashionable area of town. So it shocked him when he spotted a hat he knew well on the stand in the hall.

  His heart lighter, despite the complications the arrival brought, he glanced at his butler.

  “I put them in the drawing room, sir, and gave orders for breakfast to be brought forward.”

  “Thank you, Gibbs.” He’d hired new servants, too, rather than bringing anyone except his valet to town. He liked the notion that they owed him nothing except ordinary service. They hadn’t known him as a child, and they hadn’t followed him into the army.

  He took the stairs two at a time, but he was still in riding dress. So he continued to his bedroom. His valet was waiting with one of his less flamboyant coats. He shrugged into brown breeches, green waistcoat and darker green coat before shoving his handkerchief, watch, and purse in his pockets and racing back downstairs.

  The tantalizing smell of bacon wafted around him. The servants must be bringing up breakfast. He went straight to the breakfast parlor, where he threw his arms wide. “Mama!”

  She flew into his arms and hugged him tightly, her head barely reaching half way up his chest. “Dear boy, I am so pleased to see you! It seems an age since I saw you last!”

  Without disentangling himself from her scented embrace, he held his hand out to his father. “Sir, welcome.”

  His father shook his hand.

  “Why did you not use the Grosvenor Square house?” his mother demanded.

  He laughed. “And rattle around there like a pea in a drum? No, I thank you.”

  “Well we are having it opened so you may come home,” she said. She stepped back and smoothed a curl under her cap.

  “Don’t let your tea get cold.” He drew back a chair for his mother and took the one next to her.

  His father sat on his other side. His craggy, timeworn face beamed, but soon relaxed into its customary folds. Even when he was younger, Lord Brampton had a face his contemporaries referred to as “lived in.” Now, in his sixties, it had settled into a gun-dog lugubriousness. It belied his character, which was generally sanguine. A smile looked out of place, but Dominic loved the incongruity.

  “Papa, what has brought you to town? Estate business?” He was clutching at straws.

  His father gave him a lowering glare from under bushy brows. “You are fully aware of the reason. We have heard from various acquaintances that you are seriously courting a young lady.”

  He sighed. “I am, but it isn’t for the reasons you’re probably suspecting.”

  “That’s a shame.” His mother poured herself a dish of tea. “It’s time son. We thought you were in town for that purpose. To find a bride and then to make an heir.”

  “It’s imperative that you do so,” his father said sadly. “I know you didn’t know your cousins well, but they were good men. They gave you a freedom of choice that you do not have any more.”

  He nodded and glanced at the footman standing impassively by the door. “That will be all, Selkirk. I’ll call if we need anything.”

  Getting to his feet, he proceeded to fill a plate for his mother from the viands on the sideboard and then prepared one for himself. His father had joined him.

  Dominic might as well eat while he still had an appetite, because despite his early morning exercise, he doubted it would last for long. He tucked in to the succulent bacon, following it with a swallow of tea. He began on the chop.

  Then his father spoke. “Son, we expected a letter before now informing us of your good news.”

  “Lady Claudia has not agreed to marry me, sir.”

  “Have you asked?”

  “I have.” He should probably have sent them a letter at that point. Definitely, because although his pursuit of Claudia was not for the reasons everyone supposed, it appeared that way. “She has refused me once, but gave me indications that I should persevere. However, she says it is a matter of wanting to know me better.”

  His father grunted. “In my opinion, young people should have no interest in an arranged marriage, other than liking each other well enough.”

  Lady Brampton smiled. “You would have thought he had not fallen head over heels for me the moment he saw me and proposed two days later. Without telling his parents. What, my dear, are you telling me that you regret your rash action?”

  Her husband’s mouth twitched. “Not for a minute. Not a second, my love.”

  Such displays of emotion might embarrass a family less close, but Dominic was used to it. His father’s actions often belied his words. Usually Dominic took little notice of the edicts that issued from time to time. Instead he paid more attention to the excellent example his father set.

  This was no different. “I was not sure. I wanted to write to you with different news.” No, it would not do. He couldn’t keep his parents at arms’ length. He never had, and he wouldn’t start now. Right on cue, his appetite disappeared as his stomach tightened with nerves. He’d felt better before going into battle leading a hundred men or more to possible death.

  Dominic pushed his plate away. “No, it’s not that. It’s something else.”

  Starting at the beginning, he related finding Claudia in that house. “You know I was not always engaged in straightforward military actions.” His father nodded. “This is an example. The Young Pr
etender is in London again, and this time the government seems determined to make an example of him. I’m not so sure, but I will do my duty. He appeared at the Kirkburton ball last night.”

  His mother gasped. “Why on earth would he do that?”

  “To throw himself at the country’s mercy. Kirkburton’s son got rid of him discreetly.”

  “I would have done the same. Who wants a scandal of that nature in their house?” His mother had an acute sense of social rightness. She rarely came to town these days, but once she’d been an accredited beauty and wealthy heiress. She knew societal requirements better than anyone. “Is he in custody?”

  “No.” He had heard nothing. If it had happened, by this time town would be abuzz. “For all I know, Kirkburton has returned him from whence he came. In which case our problems are over and Lady Claudia and I do not have to meet so often.”

  He wasn’t aware he’d spoken with any melancholy, but his mother covered his hand with her own and squeezed before getting on with her breakfast.

  “That doesn’t mean you have to stop seeing her, dear. You’re attracted to her, are you not?”

  He could never hide anything from his mother and he’d given up trying years ago. “Yes, I am. I don’t know if it is any more than that.”

  “Give yourself a chance to find out,” his mother said. “We don’t want to see you married if the result is unhappiness. If the business with the Pretender is concluded, it means you have more time to get to know her.”

  That made sense, so why did it sound hollow to him? A flash of totally inappropriate heat to his groin told him why. Because of that unexplainable attraction, the desperate need to get her into bed. Lust was only part of it. He had no idea how to explain the rest of it. A need to protect, but that was natural. But that feeling that he wanted her to look after him? He couldn’t explain that. Bliss would be relaxing into her arms, and letting her take his head on her breasts.