Reckless in Pink

by Lynne Connolly

  No. Fire. The thing was on fire. Smoke wound up in a thin stream from the—thing.

  Her first impulse was to grab it, but before she could do so, her husband wrapped his arms about her. He dragged her backward, the door of the carriage crashing open, slamming against the side of the vehicle.

  They hurtled through the door of the carriage, Dominic yelling. Her ears rang with the noise. That and the shouting. She landed with a sickening thump, and Dominic rolled over her, smothering her with the weight of his body.

  When she gasped for breath, the noxious stench of the road beneath her face made her head spin. She didn’t have the breath to choke. It all happened in a minute, so fast she only had time to register it dimly before a boom took out what was left of her hearing.

  Footsteps vibrated under her body, together with rumbling wheels and clattering hooves, but she closed her eyes. She was going to die. Whatever had happened had killed her.

  What was this? What had happened?

  Someone shouted, so loud she detected it through the ringing in her ears. “Give her to me!” A male voice, close. Vaguely familiar.

  At last, light flooded in when Dominic rolled off her. He rolled her on to her back, staring anxiously into her face. “Are you hurt?”

  She sat up, but he pushed her down again. She was covered in street filth, stinking and bruised. But she wasn’t hurt, not like he meant, not the way his face was twisted and creased with concern.

  Lifting a hand to her face, she dashed a few tears of shock away and tried to make sense of what had just happened. They’d been in the carriage and then… Had someone attacked them? How? The thing on the floor of the carriage?

  “Come with me,” Julius said. Then made an noise deep in his throat that sounded like exasperation. He bent to scoop her up. “I’ll take her into the house,” he said.

  “I didn’t think you were that strong,” she managed to say, bewildered at the turn of events.

  She looked towards the coach. Or what was left of it. The top was shattered, and flames flickered from the windows where she’d recently been sitting. The footman who’d jumped up behind, who’d held the door for her, was lying on the ground. One leg was twisted under him and blood stained his forehead. The coachman was cutting the traces, releasing the horses who were squealing and kicking. They were bloodstained, too, but the coachman seemed unhurt, just blackened and ragged. Nothing remained of the smart equipage.

  Queasiness churned her stomach and her throat tightened. She shook, unable to control her trembling limbs and unbidden, tears came to her eyes.

  This was no accident.

  Julius took her up to a guest bedroom and settled her on the bed. A maid followed. Claudia watched them numbly, letting them do whatever they wanted.

  Shortly after, Helena, Julius’s sister burst into the room. She was a lovely capable woman. Although she was wringing her hands she was also firing off orders to the footman who followed her in. “Bring hot water, and get a robe for her.”

  “Brandy,” Julius said grimly, and crossed to the sideboard, spilling the amber liquid into a glass.

  Claudia pushed it away, her hand still shaking. “I don’t like brandy.”

  “Take a sip,” Julius said softly. The warmth of his hand on her arm soothed her.

  When she took the glass, her hands shook, and the liquid trembled. “Dominic! Is he safe?”

  “Yes, I’m sure he is, but I’d like to check on him.” Julius glanced at his sister, who nodded. He left the room, and his steps echoed on the stairs.

  Her ears still rang. She swallowed the brandy, taking it like medicine. “What happened?”

  “An attack,” Helena said. “It’s something I have no experience with. Come, can you stand? We’ll get those clothes off you. You’ll feel better when you’re clean.”

  Not better, but more like herself. Half an hour later, she had dressed in a robe borrowed from Helena. Claudia’s hair was cleaned and brushed out and washed, the street filth was finally expunged and she had stopped shaking.

  Helena was so patient and kind, even gave her a handkerchief unasked when Claudia shed a few more tears. Nothing like that had ever happened to her, and she was still fighting to make sense of it.

  The same question was on her lips when she went down to the drawing room and someone brought her a dish of tea. Better than the brandy.

  Her husband ran in and knelt at her feet just as she was putting the dish back in its saucer on the table. She nearly dropped it. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them away.

  Dominic was in shirtsleeves, his fine clothes begrimed, his wig gone, and his own hair roughly shoved back from his face. “They told me you were unhurt. I’m sorry, Claudia, so sorry!”

  “For what?” Had he caused this—whatever it was?”

  He kissed her hands and clasped them between his. “Someone tried to kill me. Did you see it?”

  “What?”

  “The device? The bomb?”

  The word fell dully on her ears. “Who would have one of those things in the middle of a city?” No, she hadn’t meant to say that, but she couldn’t get closer to her real meaning while her mind was still numb.

  “An assassin?” He laughed harshly, a strange sound in this elegant civilized room.

  She looked up to see Julius in much the same state as her husband, but his wig was still in place. He must glue it on, she thought dully.

  “You’re right. Who would expect such a weapon in the city?”

  “Hopefully that will help us trace the culprit,” Julius said grimly. “However, don’t you think you are being a little presumptuous? Claudia is an Emperor. She has her enemies, too.”

  Turning away, Julius grasped the glass of liquor a servant handed him, glancing at the man with a muttered word of thanks. He downed the glassful in one swallow. “Whoever did this will not stay free much longer. I can promise you that.”

  Heedless of the other occupants of the room—Helena, Julius and the footman—Dominic ran his hands over her, feeling for injuries. When she winced he hung his head and groaned. “What is it?”

  “A bruise,” she said. “That’s all. I don’t have many. My clothes padded me. Thank goodness for petticoats!”

  At least her feeble sally raised a smile.

  Julius thrust the glass at the servant. “Leave us,” he said.

  The man nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Julius walked to the window. “The authorities are likely to call soon. I’m not sure who it will be. Considering the weapon involved, it could be someone from Bow Street, or even Horse Guards. Was it a military weapon?”

  “I’ve never seen the like outside the army,” Dominic said. Finally, he got to his feet and sat next to her, curving his arm protectively around her. She leaned into him gratefully. “I suppose you’re right. It might make tracking the culprit down easier.”

  Her mind had finally started working properly again. “Don’t you think they might have wanted us to know?” she said.

  Julius swung around and fixed her with a steely glare. “Explain.”

  Her cousin had made grown men tremble with that look. Claudia merely met his eyes and nodded. “I mean, with something that rare in civilian life, they might have wanted to send some kind of message.”

  “It’s a possibility,” her husband said. “But that was not a weapon made for a warning. If I hadn’t recognized it, it would have killed us both.”

  Claudia repressed her shudder. If she showed signs of weakness, he’d shut her out, and then she would become a burden, the thing she hated most. She would not be a useless appendage or a pampered pet. She’d never wanted that and she wouldn’t start now. “But we’re alive. If not a message to us, who?”

  “Me,” Julius said grimly. “My enemies know they can hurt me by hurting my relatives. It’s a possibility, you have to admit.”

  For an instant, he met Claudia’s gaze, and she saw the message he was transmitting to her.
He didn’t believe that any more than she did. That bomb was meant to kill her husband and possibly her. Nobody would send Julius any kind of message that way.

  Julius knew her well, better than most other people in the world. Even Dominic hadn’t discerned that side of her. At least she prayed he hadn’t. “Exactly. If they split us up, they’ve weakened us.”

  Julius pulled off his wig and tossed it on a nearby chair before running his fingers through the short fair curls that lay underneath. Without his formal wig, he appeared more approachable. More human.

  “You’ll be safe in my house in the country,” Dominic said firmly.

  She knew he was going there. She could have wagered on it. If she hadn’t made her little play, he’d have determined on it, too. She snuggled closer to him. “No, I won’t. Julius is right. We need to stay together. We don’t know which of us that bomb was meant for. In effect, it would have taken both of us, but what if the attacker wanted me, and you sent me off alone?”

  Dominic groaned. “Devils, you Emperors. I was warned, but I took no notice.” Turning to her, he touched her chin. “Why would you put yourself in danger?”

  “You know,” she said softly.

  He touched his lips to hers. “I know. If I lose you—” He shook his head. “We need to find out who did this and ensure they can’t do it again.”

  “Already being taken care of,” Julius said. “I will of course pass on any discoveries to you.” He thrust his hands in his breeches’ pockets, his waistcoat bunched above. “The question is—was it the Dankworths—or the Young Pretender?”

  “Either,” Dominic said. “Both, most likely. Aren’t the Dankworths supporters of the pretender?” His mind was exactly fixed on the problem.

  Julius shrugged. Damn him, how could he remain so cool in the face of this? He’d nearly lost his lovely wife. He’d never forgive himself that he’d let his guard down enough to allow her to get hurt.

  “The point is,” Julius persisted, “we need to know where to target our efforts.”

  Dominic caught his exasperated glare, but Julius shrugged.

  “No matter. If you want to take your wife away, let me know and I’ll plan accordingly.”

  “I can’t see a world in which you will be taking control of this,” Dominic said softly. “This is my problem. While your help is much appreciated, I am perfectly capable of discovering certain matters for myself. I thank you for your concern and taking such good care of Claudia.” He lifted his hard gaze and met Julius’s equally determined eyes.

  “I would appreciate you keeping me apprised of your discoveries,” Julius said eventually.

  Dominic nodded curtly. “You may be sure of it. I will not fall in with your plans. Understand this. What is mine, I keep. I make my own decisions.”

  Julius nodded. “You should know that if you decide to accept your birthright, you will become my enemy. I strive against a return to the old absolute monarchy and of further bloodshed. I fear today there has been more.”

  “Sometimes bloodshed is the cleanest way,” Dominic said. He’d far rather meet his enemy on the battlefield than sneaking around the edges. Cleaner, more decisive, and shorter. Less damaging to all concerned, except those who gained advantage from intrigue.

  Already he was making plans, deciding what to do, and he could see no harm in telling Julius. “Sometimes those more used to intrigue are confused and beaten by direct action. They have no idea what to do if confronted by someone demanding the truth.”

  Julius raised a brow. “Not a theory I have used very often, but it has its benefits. As long as there is a secondary plan in place.”

  “When possible.” Once, he hadn’t been averse to the idea of dying in honorable combat. But not now he had so much to live for. “The attack appears like one a man of action, a soldier or the like, would use. That might be a blind, someone trying to fool me into thinking that. Whoever did it wanted us dead. Shooting at us might result in one death, but not both. Either the attacker wanted to kill both of us, or he didn’t care if others died in the indiscriminate attack.”

  “That sounds more like the Stuarts,” Julius said. “The Dankworths live here, and they have avoided trouble for a long time, partly by careful targeting.”

  He glanced out of the window and then back to them. “The street will be cleared soon, but I can have a carriage brought around for you. It can go the other way.” The sounds from outside had not abated, with shouting and the noise of splintering wood as they doubtless cleared the way using the fastest method possible. “The Dankworths would rather avoid a scene like this.”

  “If the Stuart tried to have us killed, that means he probably knows about the marriage certificate.”

  The one that made him legitimate, an important symbol for the Cause. The person who could oust the Young Pretender from his perch. “Since I saw them together, may we assume that Dankworth knows too?”

  “He knows,” Julius said briefly. “Would he have told the Young Pretender? I don’t know. The man is too subtle in his thinking, and he can never be outguessed.” His mouth kicked up in a half smile. “I have had to learn to match him.”

  “What about your father?” The Duke of Kirkburton surely should have some hand in this.

  “He remains aloof,” Julius said, “Deliberately. I keep him informed. He has once or twice asked me to leave off my investigations.” He shrugged, a fluid, powerful motion that belied his usual dandified appearance. “Not recently, though. You are not the only child of the Stuarts who is a member of this family. I’ve heard from the people concerned, and I have permission to inform you that you have siblings.”

  Dull shock reverberated through Dominic. “I’ve always been an only child.” What a stupid thing to say! He could think of no other way of putting it. Not only did he have half-siblings, he could have full ones. The possibility had haunted him since he’d discovered his true origins. The reality made him nervous.

  Claudia squeezed his hand and he discovered it was her turn to comfort him. “Not now,” she said to Julius. “Let’s clear this matter up.”

  “Ah, but they want to be involved in the discovery,” Julius said. “One is out of town, but he will be here in the next three days.”

  “He?” A brother?

  “Ah, yes, but he’s married to your sibling. Your sister.”

  This could be a problem, but equally it could prove a blessing. He would discover in due course. Claudia was right. He needed no distractions. “After I have concluded my business, I want to meet them,” he said.

  Julius bowed his head. “Of course. One is in London. The other, as you’ve heard, is on her way. There will likely be more.”

  “A family within a family,” he said. “But not until I have made my decision.” He got to his feet. “If I may win the position as legitimate child to the Stuart, I could dissipate the problem. I would not wish to take the crown, even if it were offered to me.”

  Julius gazed at him. “I had not thought of that.” He gained a faraway look. “Yes, that could prove a solution. If a true heir voluntarily disclaimed any interest in the throne…”

  Dominic shook his head. “Whether you like it or not, you would be the center of dissidence. People will look for excuses. They will make you their leader whether you wish it or not.”

  “They would find an excuse whatever I did.” When he paid attention to his wife, he saw she had gone quite white. He would say no more, but they had to consider the possibility. Or he did. “It was why I wanted to defer our wedding, and why—” Why he’d withdrawn from her on their wedding night. Although she had not allowed that to continue for long.

  Sometimes he wished she had. It would be one less concern. In his heart, he knew he wouldn’t have wanted to remain childless.

  “I will not allow this to continue,” he said. “This is not acceptable.” He meant it. Whoever had just tried to kill his wife had decided on his course of action. His mind worked rapidly. “Tomorrow I will put my plans into place.�
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  Tonight he would take her home.

  Chapter 18

  Dominic had meant to put her to bed and leave her to sleep, but again his wife thwarted him. When he cossetted her, she slid a hand inside his shirt and stroked him.

  “I won’t sleep if you’re not here.”

  “I’ll just hold you,” he told her.

  He stripped and used the basin to give himself a thorough wash, but she distracted him. When he glanced into the mirror, he met her avid gaze. She was watching him.

  “I love the way your muscles move when you’re naked.”

  He paused and gazed down at himself. True, he had a well-formed body, but he’d needed one in his erstwhile occupation. He still lived a active life. He’d have grown bored, sitting in front of a club fire drinking brandy and discussing current affairs. “I’d never considered the artistic value of it before.”

  “Neither have I.” She spoke quietly, but a low throb of desire colored her voice.

  Inevitably, his cock reacted to her words. He closed his eyes and put the washcloth down, leaning on the washstand until the wood creaked. “You shouldn’t do this.”

  “I have the feeling that as long as I live, I will be doing this.” The sheets rustled and he turned to see her removing her night rail.

  Her curves, revealed so blatantly and beautifully for him, roused him to an almost unbearable state of arousal. He would have echoed her words. She would draw him to her for the rest of his life.

  He couldn’t imagine breasts more perfect than hers or a waist so sweetly framed over lush, inviting hips.

  When she opened her legs, she gave him a glimpse of glistening pink paradise. “Claudia, you are shameless,” he croaked out of a throat gone dry. “Your beauty unnerves me.”

  “As does yours.” She wriggled, flashing the most intimate part of her body. “I want you, Dominic. Prove to me that we’re still alive.”

  Her hair, blazing against the dark wood of the bedhead and between her legs, gleamed with a fire of its own. But it was all her, all Claudia.