Читать книгу The Lady Gambles - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 8

‘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 ex pected. 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.

He straightened, the expression in his eyes now hidden behind hooded lids. ‘I meant only to demonstrate how exposing yourself on a stage night after night has left you open to physical as well as verbal abuse.’

‘You are being ridiculous,’ she dismissed briskly. ‘Neither am I a complete ninny. It was for the very reason of protecting my reputation that I donned the mask and wig at Nick’s. Indeed, I doubt that anyone would ever recognise the woman I am now as the masked and ebony-haired woman who sings in a gambling club each evening.’

There was some truth in that; Dominic had barely recognised Caro himself when she had joined him earlier. Even so … ‘The fact that you are masked, and your own blonde curls hidden beneath those false ebony tresses, would, I am afraid, only protect your identity as far as the bedroom.’

Her throat moved convulsively as she continued to look up at him proudly. ‘My … identity?’

Dominic gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Your voice and manner proclaim you as being a lady—’

‘Or a disgraced lady’s maid,’ she put in quickly.

‘Perhaps,’ Dominic allowed tersely. ‘I have no idea what your reasons are for taking the action you have—and I doubt you are about to enlighten me, are you?’

Her mouth firmed. ‘No.’

‘As I thought.’ He gave an abrupt nod. ‘Of course, the simplest answer to this predicament would be for me to simply terminate your employment. At least then I would not feel honour bound to take responsibility for your welfare.’

She gave an inelegant snort. ‘That would only solve the problem for you, my lord; I would still need to find the means with which to earn my own living.’

She was right, Dominic allowed sourly. But there was another alternative … He could offer to become her protector himself—his enjoyment of their kiss earlier proved that his senses, at least, were not averse to the idea. And no doubt, with a little coaching as to his physical preferences, Caro would be more than capable of satisfying his needs.

But in the ten years since Dominic had first appeared in town he had never once taken a permanent mistress, as many of his male acquaintances chose to do, preferring instead to take his pleasures whenever and with what women he pleased. He had no wish to change that arrangement by making the spirited and outspoken Caro Morton his mistress.

‘Of course, if you were to decide to terminate my employment then you would leave me with no choice but to seek the same position elsewhere.’ She shrugged those slender shoulders. ‘Something that should not prove too difficult now that the masked lady has, as you say, gained something of a … male following,’ she added.

It was a solution, of course. Except at Nick’s, whether the chit was aware of it or not, Caro at least had the protection of the attentive Drew and Ben. And, apparently, now Dominic himself. ‘If it is only question of money—’

‘And if it were?’ Caro had immediately bristled haughtily.

His mouth thinned. ‘In those circumstances I might perhaps see my way clear to advancing you sufficient funds to take you back to wherever it is you originate from.’

‘No!’ Those sea-green eyes sparkled up at him rebelliously. ‘I have no intention of leaving London yet.’

Dominic was unsure as to whether Caro’s vehemence was due to his offer to advance her money, or his suggestion that she use that money to take herself home, so he decided to probe further. ‘Is the situation at home so intolerable, then?’

She attempted to repress a shudder and failed. ‘At present, yes.’

Dominic studied her through narrowed lids, noting the shadows that had appeared in those sea-green eyes, and the pallor of her cheeks. ‘That remark would seem to imply that the situation may change some time in the future?’

‘It is to be hoped so, yes,’ she confirmed with feeling.

‘But until it does, it is your intention to remain in London, whether or not I continue to employ you at Nick’s?’

Her mouth set firmly. ‘It is.’

‘You are very stubborn, madam.’

‘I am decisive, sir, which is completely different.’

Dominic sighed heavily, not wishing to send Caro back to a situation she obviously found so unpleasant, but also well able to imagine the scrapes this reckless young woman would get herself into, if she were once again let loose to roam the streets of London seeking employment. ‘Then I believe, for the moment, we must leave things as they are.’ He looked away. ‘Shall we continue to walk to your lodgings?’

Caro shot him a triumphant glance. ‘We have been standing outside them for some minutes, my lord!’

Dominic gave her an irritated scowl before glancing at the house behind them. It was a three-storied building so typical of an area that had once been fashionable, but which was no longer so, and as such had fallen into genteel decay. Although the owner of this particular lodging had at least attempted to keep up a veneer of respectability, the outside being neat and cared for, and the curtains at the windows also appearing clean.

He turned back to Caro. ‘In that case it remains only for me to bid you goodnight.’

She gave an abrupt curtsy. ‘My lord.’

‘Miss Morton.’ He nodded curtly.

Caro gazed up at Dominic quizzically as he made no move to depart for his waiting carriage. ‘There is no need for you to wait to leave until you are assured I have entered the house, my lord.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘In the same way you were in “absolutely no danger” earlier on?’

Her cheeks coloured prettily. ‘I find your manner extremely vexing, my lord!’

‘No more so than I do your own, I assure you, Miss Morton.’

Caro had never before met anyone remotely like Dominic Vaughn. Had never dreamed that men like him existed, so tall and fashionably handsome, so aristocratic. So arrogantly sure of themselves!

Admittedly her contact with male acquaintances had been severely limited before she came to London, usually only consisting of the few sons of the local gentry, and occasionally her father’s lawyer when he came from London to discuss business matters.

Even so, Caro knew from Drew Butler’s respectful attitude towards the earl earlier this evening, and the hasty departure of those three young gentlemen just minutes ago, that Dominic Vaughn was a man whose very presence demanded respect and obedience.

Except, after years of having no choice but to do as she was told, Caro no longer wished to obey any man. Not least of all the guardian she had so recently acquired …

She flashed the earl a bright meaningless smile before turning to walk to the front door of her lodgings, not even glancing back to see if he still watched as she quietly let herself inside with the key the landlady had provided for Caro’s personal use when she had taken the rooms two weeks ago.

She waited several heartbeats before daring to look out through the lace-covered window beside the front door. Just in time to see the earl climbing inside his carriage before the groom closed the door behind him and hopped neatly on to the back of the vehicle as it was driven away.

But before it did so Caro saw the pale oval of Dominic Vaughn’s grimly set face at the carriage window as he glanced towards where she stood hidden. She moved away quickly to lean back against the wall, her hands clutched against her rapidly beating heart.

No, being kissed by the Earl of Blackstone had been nothing at all as she imagined a kiss would be.

It had been far, far more exciting …

‘So, where did you get to last night, Dom?’ Nathaniel Thorne, Earl of Osbourne, prompted lazily the following evening, the two men lounging in opposite wing-chairs beside the fireplace in one of the larger rooms at White’s.

‘I was … unavoidably detained.’ Dominic evaded answering his friend’s query directly. The two men had arranged to meet late the previous evening, an appointment Dominic obviously had not kept as he had instead been occupied with seeing Caro Morton safely delivered back to her lodgings. For all the thanks he had received for his trouble!

Nathaniel raised a blond brow. ‘I trust she was as insatiable as she was beautiful?’

‘Beautiful—yes. Insatiable? I have no idea.’ In truth, hours later, Dominic still had no idea what to make of Caro Morton, of who and what she was. He had taken the trouble, however, to send word to Drew Butler to continue feeding her, as well as arranging for Ben Jackson to escort her home at the end of each night’s work; Caro might have no care for her own welfare, but whilst she continued working for Dominic, he had every intention of ensuring that no harm befell her.

‘Yet,’ Nathaniel drawled knowingly.

Both of Dominic’s parents had died years ago, and he had no siblings, either, making Nathaniel Thorne and Gabriel Faulkner the closest thing he had to a family; the years they had all spent at school together, and then in the army, never knowing whether they would survive the next battle, had made them as close as brothers. Even so, Dominic could have wished at that moment that Nathaniel did not know him quite as well as he did.

Thankfully he had the perfect diversion from his lack of appearance the night before. ‘I received a note from Gabriel today. He expects to arrive in England by the end of the week.’ He lifted his glass of brandy and took an appreciative sip.

‘I received one, too,’ Nathaniel revealed. ‘Can you imagine the looks on the faces of the ton when Gabe makes his entrance back into society?’

‘He reaffirmed it was his intention to first go to Shoreley Park and confront the Copeland sisters,’ Dominic reminded him.

Osbourne snorted. ‘We both know that will only take two minutes of his time. By the time Gabriel returns to town, past scandal or not, I have no doubt that all three of the silly chits will be clamouring to marry him!’ Nathaniel made a silent toast of appreciation to their absent friend.

It was a fact that Gabriel’s years of banishment to the Continent and the army had in no way affected his conquests in the bedchamber; one look at that raven-black hair, those dark indigo eyes and his firmly muscled physique, and women of all ages simply dropped at Gabriel’s feet. Or, more accurately, into his bed! No doubt the Copeland sisters would find themselves equally as smitten.

‘What shall we do with the rest of the night?’ After the dissatisfaction he had felt at the end of the previous evening, Dominic knew himself to be in the mood to drink too much before falling into bed with a woman who was as inventive as she was willing.

Nathaniel eyed him speculatively. ‘I have heard that there is a mysterious beauty currently performing at Nick’s …’

As close as the three men were, Dominic knew that some things were best kept to oneself—and his meeting with Caro Morton the previous night, his uncharacteristic, unfathomable sense of protectiveness where she was concerned, was certainly one of them! Although Dominic could not say that he was at all pleased that she was already so great a source of gossip at the gentlemen’s clubs after only a week of appearing at his.

He grimaced. ‘I believe the only reason she is considered such a mystery is because she wears a jewelled mask whilst performing.’

‘Oh.’ The other man’s mouth turned down. ‘No doubt to hide the fact that she’s scarred from the pox.’

‘Possibly,’ Dominic dismissed in a bored voice, having no intention of saying anything that would increase his friend’s curiosity where Caro was concerned.

Nate sighed. ‘In which case, I believe I will leave the choice of tonight’s entertainment to you.’

That choice involved visiting several gambling clubs before ending the evening at the brightly lit but nevertheless discreet house where several beautiful and accomplished ladies of the demi-monde made it only too obvious they would be pleased to offer amusement and companionship to two such handsome young gentlemen.

So it was all the more surprising when those same two gentlemen took their leave only an hour or so later, neither having taken advantage of that willingness. ‘Perhaps we should have gone to view the mysterious beauty at Nick’s, after all.’ Osbourne repressed a bored yawn.

‘Scarred from the pox or not, I doubt I could find her any less appealing than the ladies we have just wasted our time with!’

Dominic frowned, knowing that to demur a second time would definitely incur Nate’s curiosity. ‘Perhaps we are becoming too jaded in our tastes, Nate?’ he murmured drily as he tapped on the roof of the carriage and gave his driver fresh instructions.

The other man raised a questioning brow. ‘Do you ever miss the excitement of our five years in the army?’

Did Dominic miss the horror and the bloodshed of war? The never knowing whether he would survive the next battle or if it was his turn to meet death at the end of a French sword? The comradeship with his fellow officers that arose from experiencing that very danger? He missed it like the very devil!

‘Not to the point of wanting to renew my commission, no. You?’

Osbourne shrugged. ‘It is a fact that civilian life can be tedious as well as damned repetitious.’

Dominic felt relieved to know that he was not the only one to miss those years of feeling as if one walked constantly on the knife edge of danger. ‘I am told that participating in a London Season often resembles a battlefield,’ he mused.

‘Do not even mention the Season to me,’ the other man groaned. ‘My Aunt Gertrude has taken it into her head that it is high time I took myself a wife,’ he explained at Dominic’s questioning look. ‘As such she is insisting that I escort her to several balls and soirées during the next few weeks. No doubt with the expectation of finding a young woman she believes will make me a suitable Countess.’

‘Ah.’ Dominic began to understand his friend’s restlessness this evening; Mrs Gertrude Wilson was Osbourne’s closest relative, and one, moreover, of whom he was extremely fond. She reciprocated by taking a great interest in her nephew’s life. To the point, it seemed, that she was now attempting to find him a wife. Reason enough for Dominic to be grateful for his own lack of female relations! ‘I take it that you are not in agreement with her wishes?’

‘In agreement with the idea of shackling myself for life to some mealy-mouthed chit who has no doubt been taught to lie back and think of king and country when we are in bed together? Certainly not!’ Osbourne barely suppressed his shiver of revulsion. ‘I cannot think what Gabriel is about even contemplating such a fate.’

It was a fact that all three gentlemen would one day have to take a wife and produce the necessary heir to their respective earldoms. Fortunately, it seemed that Osbourne, at least, was as averse to accepting that fate as Dominic was. Although there was no doubting that Mrs Gertrude Wilson was a force to be reckoned with!

Dominic’s humour at his friend’s situation faded, his mouth tightening in disapproval, as the two gentlemen stepped down from his carriage minutes later and he saw that Ben Jackson was once again absent from his position at the entrance to Nick’s; obviously they had arrived in time for Nathaniel to witness Caro Morton’s second performance of the evening.

However, the sound of shouting, breaking glass and the crashing of furniture coming from the direction of the main gaming room as they stepped into the spacious hallway of the club in no way resembled the awed silence Dominic had experienced on his arrival the previous evening.

Especially when it was accompanied by the sound of a woman’s screams!