A Regency Lady's Scandal: The Lady Gambles / The Lady Forfeits

A sensuously soft and totally decadent gentleman’s white silk evening shirt. A garment that, once it had slid softly over Caro’s nakedness, had evoked just as sensuous and decadent thoughts of the gentleman it belonged to …

Caro dropped down upon the side of the bed as she recalled the wickedness of her thoughts before she had drifted off to sleep. Of how those memories, of Dominic’s lips and tongue upon her bared breasts earlier, had once again made her breasts swell and the strawberry tips to become hard and engorged, evoking a warm rush of moisture between her thighs that had sent delightful rivulets of pleasure coursing through her when she’d clenched them tightly together. She—

‘You’re awake at last, madam.’ A young maid had tilted her head around the slightly opened door, but she pushed that door completely open now before disappearing back into the hallway for several seconds.

Long enough, thankfully, for Caro to climb quickly back beneath the bedclothes and pull them up to her chin before the maid reappeared carrying a silver tray she dearly hoped had some tea and toast upon it; she had not eaten for some time and just the thought of food caused her stomach to give an unladylike growl. She grimaced self-consciously as the smiling maid bustled about opening up the small legs beneath the tray before placing the whole across Caro’s thighs above the bedclothes.

Not only was there tea and toast, Caro realised greedily, but two perfectly poached eggs and several slices of sweet-smelling ham. ‘This looks delicious.’

‘I’m sure it will be, madam.’ The young girl bobbed a curtsy. ‘His lordship surely has the best cook in London.’

Unfortunately Caro’s appetite had suddenly deserted her. The maid’s continual use of the title ‘madam’ was a timely reminder that she was supposed to be Dominic Vaughn’s poor and widowed cousin, a deception that did not please her at all. She didn’t want to be connected to Dominic in any way, even in a falsehood!

‘Eat up, madam,’ the maid encouraged brightly as she hovered beside the bed. ‘The dressmaker has been waiting downstairs for quite some time already.’

The dressmaker Caro had told the earl she did not require. She should have known that the arrogant man would completely disregard her instruction. Just as she fully intended to disregard his!

She smiled up at the maid. ‘What is your name, dear?’

‘Mabel, ma’am.’

Caro nodded. ‘Then, Mabel, could you please go downstairs and inform the dressmaker that there has been a mistake—’

‘No mistake has been made, Caro,’ Dominic drawled as he strolled uninvited into the bedchamber, crossing the room on booted feet until he stood beside the bed looking down mockingly at a red-faced Caro. That silver gaze raked over her mercilessly before he turned to the blushing young maid. ‘That will be all, thank you.’

‘My lord. Madam.’ The young girl bobbed a curtsy to them both before hurrying from the room.

Caro wished that she might escape with her, but instead she once again found herself the focus of those chilling silver eyes as the earl stood tall and dominating beside the bed. And looking far too handsome, she thought resentfully, in buff-coloured pantaloons above black Hessians, a severe black superfine stretching the width of those wide shoulders, with a grey waistcoat and snowy white shirt beneath.

No doubt a white silk shirt similar to the one that she now wore as a nightgown!

‘Impoverished widowed cousin or not, I do not believe that entitles you to enter my bedchamber uninvited, my lord,’ Caro hissed when she at last managed to regain her breath.

Dominic could not help but admire how beautiful Caro looked with her golden curls loose upon the pillows and the pertness of her breasts covered only by the white silk of one of his own dress shirts, the nipples standing firm and rosy beneath the sheer material.

His jaw clenched now as he once again resisted the urge to push that material aside and feast himself on those firm and tempting buds. ‘Eat up, Caro; the dressmaker does not have all day to waste while you laze about in your bed.’

Her cheeks coloured with temper. ‘I distinctly remember telling you that I did not require the services of a dressmaker.’

‘And I distinctly recall telling you that I refuse to see you dressed in one of those drab gowns a moment longer.’ Dominic bent calmly to pluck a slice of ham from the plate upon the laden tray after making this announcement.

Caro found her gaze suddenly riveted upon his finely sculptured lips and the white evenness of his teeth, as he took a bite of the delicious-smelling ham, unsure if the moisture that suddenly flooded her mouth was caused by that mouthwatering ham or the unexpected sensuality of watching Dominic eat …

Those lips and teeth had been upon her breasts only hours ago, the tongue he now used to lick his lips having swirled a delicious pattern of pleasure on her flesh.

She wrenched her gaze away from the earl’s dangerously handsome face as the contents of the tray placed across her thighs rattled in rhythm with her trembling awareness. ‘I fear I am no longer hungry.’ Her fingers curled about the handles of the tray as she attempted to remove it.

‘Careful!’ Dominic Vaughn took the tray from her shaking fingers to lift it and place it on the dressing-table before turning back to face her, the sunlight shining in through the window once again giving his hair the blue-black appearance of a raven’s wing as that silver gaze narrowed on her critically. ‘Speaking as a man who prefers a little more meat on the bones of the women he beds, I do believe you need to eat more,’ he finally drawled.

Her chin rose challengingly. ‘Speaking as a woman who has no interest in your preferences regarding “the women you bed”, I prefer to remain exactly as I am, thank you very much!’

Dominic gave an appreciative grin; Caro had obviously lost none of her feistiness in the hours since he last saw her.

They had been busy hours for him, as he first set some of his associates from the army ranks, now civilians, the task of investigating Nicholas Brown’s dealings over the past few days, before dispensing with his own household and estate business, and then returning to Nathaniel’s home to see how his friend fared. Dominic’s mouth tightened grimly as he thought of the other man’s discomfort and obvious pain.

‘Before you dismiss the dressmaker so arbitrarily, I believe you should be made aware that when your things were brought from your lodgings earlier, I instantly instructed one of the maids to consign all of the gowns inside into the incinerator,’ he announced with satisfaction.

Caro gasped. ‘All of them?’

‘All.’

Her startled gaze moved to the chair where she had placed her green gown earlier, only to find that chair now empty apart from her underclothes. And if the earl had indeed sent all her other gowns to be burned, then he must have included the three fashionable gowns Caro had brought to London with her two weeks ago. She turned back to him accusingly. ‘You had no right to touch my things!’

‘You were refusing to replace them.’ Dominic gave an unapologetic shrug. ‘It seemed easier to leave you with no choice in the matter rather than continue to argue the point.’

Her eyes sparkled indignantly. ‘And I suppose I am now expected to go down to the seamstress dressed only in my shift?’

It was a pleasant thought, if an impractical one, Dominic accepted. ‘She will come up here to you, of course. With, I might add, two gowns at least that you should be able to wear immediately.’ He had personally instructed the dressmaker to bring a gown of sea-green and another of deep rose, the one reminding him of Caro’s eyes, the other the tips of her breasts when they were aroused.

‘Have you received word on how Lord Thorne fares?’

Dominic’s thoughts of the anticipated changes to Caro’s appearance completely dissipated at this reminder of the attack on one of his two closest friends. Not that he would ever forget that first moment of seeing Osbourne covered in blood in the early hours of this morning.

How could he, when it was such a stark reminder of the last memories Dominic had of his mother sixteen years ago?

He moved away from the bed to stand in front of one of the picture windows, his back to the room, his hands clasped tightly together behind his back as he fought back those memories. Memories that had returned all too vividly after Caro had questioned him concerning his family …

He breathed in deeply before answering. ‘I have done better than that; I have been to see him.’ He went on to explain that Nathaniel’s aunt, Mrs Gertrude Wilson, having learnt that her nephew had suffered injuries and was confined to his bed, had wasted no time in having her own physician visit him, and fully intended removing Osbourne to her own home in St

James’s Square later this afternoon. An occurrence that aided Dominic’s determination to ensure the future protection of his friend.

Dominic hoped to have some news later today concerning the enquiries into last night’s attack, but if those enquiries should prove unhelpful, then he had plans of his own for later this evening that may give him some of the answers, if not all of them.

‘And?’ Caro prompted with concern as Dominic fell broodingly silent.

‘And the physician has discovered he has two cracked ribs to go with his many cuts and bruises.’

Caro knew by the harshness of the Dominic’s tone that he was far from happy at this news of his friend’s condition. ‘I am sure that he will recover fully, my lord.’

He did not look in the least comforted by her reassurances. ‘Are you?’

‘He is otherwise young and healthy,’ Caro nodded. ‘Now if—if you would not mind, I should like to get out of bed now.’ She had not had time to deal with her morning ablutions before her bedchamber was invaded, first by the maid, and then Dominic Vaughn, and that need was becoming more pressing by the moment.

He raised dark brows. ‘I was not aware I was preventing you from doing so?’

‘You know very well that your very presence here is preventing me from getting out of bed.’

He gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘You have flaunted yourself in a gambling club for this past week, in front of dozens of men, but now take exception to my seeing you clothed in one of my own shirts?’

Caro gave a pained frown. ‘The gown I wore at those performances covered me from neck to toe.’

‘And titillated and aroused the interest of your audience all the more because of it!’

Had it titillated and aroused this man’s interest? she wondered breathlessly. Obviously something had, if his passion earlier this morning was any indication. A passion she had responded to in a way that still made her blush. ‘Then it would seem the sooner I am clothed in one of my new gowns, the better it will be for everyone.’

His gorgeous mouth curved into a pleased smile. ‘You are sufficiently recovered from your previous outrage to now accept the new gowns?’

Caro bristled. ‘I believe it is more a case of having little choice in the matter when you have had all of my own gowns burned. I should become a prisoner of this bedchamber rather than just the house if I did not accept the new gowns, would I not?’

He winced. ‘You are not to be a prisoner here, Caro, only to take the precaution of being accompanied if you should decide to go about.’

‘I do not even know where “here” is!’ she snapped caustically.

‘Blackstone House is in Mayfair,’ he elaborated. ‘And as soon as you are dressed, and the seamstress has gone about her business, I will be only too happy to take you out for a drive in my carriage.’

‘Accompanied by the maid I do not have?’ she came back derisively.

‘We are believed to be cousins, Caro,’ he reminded her drily. ‘Making such a fuss about the proprieties would be a nonsense.’

‘In that case, if you would send the dressmaker up to me now I should very much like to go out for a drive.’

Her tone, Dominic noted ruefully, was almost as imperious as Osbourne’s Aunt Gertrude’s. Further evidence, if he should need it, that Caro Morton was a woman used to instructing her own servants and having those instructions obeyed. Because she was, in fact, a lady of quality?

He crossed the room to once again stand beside the bed. ‘Have you considered the possibility, Caro, that I might be more … amenable, if you did not constantly challenge me?’

‘I have considered it, my lord—and as quickly dismissed it.’ Her expression was defiant as she glanced up at him. ‘It goes completely against my nature, you see.’

Dominic could not prevent his throaty chuckle as he looked down at her admiringly. No, he never found himself bored in Caro’s company, even when he was not making love to her! ‘I will arrange for the carriage to be brought round in an hour’s time.’ He gave her a brief bow before taking his leave.

Caro did not move for several minutes after he had left the bedchamber, still slightly breathless from the transformation that had overcome his austere features when he laughed. Those silver eyes had glowed warmly, with laughter lines fanning out at their sides, the curve of those sculptured lips revealing the white evenness of his teeth. Even that savage scar upon his cheek had softened. The whole rendered him so devastatingly handsome that just looking at him had stolen her breath away …

‘Relax, Caro,’ Dominic drawled softly as she sat tensely beside him as he controlled the reins of his curricle, his two favourite greys stepping out lively in the sun-dappled park. ‘By this time tomorrow, all of society will be agog to know who was the beautiful young lady riding in the park with Blackstone in his curricle.’ And she looked every inch a lady of quality in her rose-coloured gown and matching bonnet, with several golden curls framing the delicate beauty of her face, and her hands covered in pale cream gloves.

‘How disappointed they will be when they learn it is only your impoverished and widowed cousin up from the country,’ she came back tartly. ‘And the last thing I desire is to become the talk of London society,’ she added with a delicate shudder.

It was rather late for that, when to Dominic’s certain knowledge the male members of the ton, at least, had been avidly discussing the masked woman who had sung at Nick’s for the past week! Not that any of those men would recognise the blonde woman sitting so demurely beside him in his curricle as the same masked and ebony-haired siren who had entertained them so prettily at Nick’s; several of those gentlemen had already greeted Dominic as they passed in their own carriages, with no hint of recognition in their gazes as they’d glanced admiringly at the golden-haired beauty at his side.

‘A beautiful woman, impoverished or otherwise, is always a source of gossip amongst the members of the ton,’ he said.

Caro glanced at him beneath long golden lashes, noting how easily he kept the two feisty greys to a demure trot as he drove his elegant curricle through the park. She had also noted the admiring glances sent his way by all of the ladies in the passing carriages, before those covetous glances had shifted coldly on to Caro, no doubt due to the fact she was the one sitting beside the eligible Earl of Blackstone in his carriage.

Wearing a beautiful gown, and being driven through a London park in a fashionable carriage, with a wickedly handsome man at her side, had long been one of Caro’s dreams. But in those girlish dreams the man had been totally besotted with her, something she knew Dominic would never be with regard to her.

Admittedly, the circumstances under which they had first met had been less than ideal, but if Lady Caroline Copeland and Lord Dominic Vaughn, Earl of Blackstone, had met in a fashionable London drawing room, he would certainly have behaved more circumspectly towards her.

Except she was not, at this moment, Lady Caroline Copeland, and the earl’s casualness of manner towards her was reflective of that fact. ‘I believe I would like to return to Blackstone House now, if you please,’ she said stiffly.

Dominic glanced down at Caro, frowning slightly as he saw the way her lashes were uncharacteristically cast down. ‘There is a blanket beside you if you are becoming chilled?’

‘I am not in the least chilled; I would just prefer to leave now.’ Her voice was huskily soft, but determined.

Dominic transferred both reins to his right hand before reaching down with his left to lift Caro’s chin so that he might look into her face. Far from invigorating her, she seemed to have grown paler during the drive, and, unless he was mistaken, the glitter in her eyes was not due to her usual rebellion. ‘Are you about to cry?’ His voice sounded as incredulous as he felt.

‘Certainly not!’ She wrenched her chin out of his grasp and turned away. ‘I merely wish to return home, that is all. To Blackstone House, I meant, of course,’ she added awkwardly.

Dominic had known exactly what Caro meant. Strange, in all the years he had been the Earl of Blackstone, he had never particularly regarded any of his houses or estates as being his home—how could he, when all of them were a reminder of the parents who had both died when he was but twelve years old?

Or how, along with those memories, came the nightmare reminder of the part he had played in their deaths! Memories that were usually kept firmly at bay, but had haunted him this past few hours …

‘Of course.’ Dominic gave a curt nod before turning the greys in front of the curricle back towards Blackstone House. ‘Perhaps you should go to your bedchamber and rest before dinner?’

‘I am simply grown bored of driving in the park, Dominic; I am not decrepit!’

He gave an appreciative smile as Caro answered with some of her usual spirit, all trace of what he had thought were tears having disappeared as she glared up at him. ‘I assure you, Caro, I would not have brought you out driving with me at all if I thought you decrepit.’

‘Is that because only women you consider beautiful are allowed in your curricle?’ she asked, regarding him with a scornful purse to her mouth.

Dominic dearly wished to kiss that expression from her lips. Damn it, he had wanted nothing more than to kiss her again since she had appeared downstairs earlier looking breathtakingly beautiful in the rose-coloured gown and bonnet!

‘No woman, beautiful or otherwise, has ever been invited to accompany me to the park in my curricle before today,’ he admitted after a moment of silence.

She eyed him curiously. ‘Should I feel flattered?’

‘Do you?’ Dominic asked.

‘Not in the least,’ she said with a return of her usual waspishness. ‘No doubt, as far as the gentlemen of the ton are concerned at least, it will only add to your considerable reputation if you are believed to have the ebony-haired masked lady from Nick’s in your bed at night, and a golden-haired lady in your curricle by day.’

Dominic gave her a mocking glance. ‘No doubt,’ he agreed.

Caro’s eyes flashed deeply green. ‘You—Dominic, there is a dog about to run in front of the carriage!’ She reached out to grasp his forearm, half-rising in her seat as the fluffy white creature ran directly in front of the hooves of the now-prancing greys, quickly followed by a young girl in a straw bonnet who seemed to have the same disregard for her own welfare as the dog as she narrowly avoided being trampled under the hoofs of the rearing horses before following the animal across the pathway, and on to the grass, and then running into the woodland in hot pursuit without so much as a glance at the occupants of the carriage.

It took Dominic several minutes to bring the startled greys back under his control, by which time the dog and the girl had both completely disappeared, leaving Caro with the startled impression that the young girl in the straw bonnet had looked remarkably like her younger sister, Elizabeth!

Chapter Seven

‘Bring brandy into the library, would you, Simpson?’ Dominic instructed the butler as he kept a firm hold of Caro’s arm, unsure as to whether or not she might faint away at his feet if he did not.

Admittedly, the near-miss in the park had been of concern for several seconds, but even so he had been surprised to see Caro so white and shaking after the event. Damn it, she was still white and shaking!

His hand tightened on her arm. ‘At once, if you please,’ he said to the butler briskly before taking Caro into the library and closing the door against curious eyes. He led her gently across the room and saw her seated in the chair beside the fireplace.

Ordinarily, he would have been impatient with a woman’s display of nerves. But having already witnessed Caro’s fortitude several times—when faced with the ribaldry of three young bucks, in the midst of a brawl, and then again when Osbourne had received a beating by those four thugs—Dominic could only feel concern that a minor incident, such as the one that had happened in the park just now, should have reduced her to this trembling state.

He moved down on to his haunches beside the chair in which she now sat, before placing one of his hands on top of her clasped and trembling ones. ‘No harm was done, Caro. In fact,’ he continued drily, ‘I believe that young girl to be completely unaware of the near-accident that she caused.’

The young girl who had reminded Caro so much of her younger sister, Elizabeth …

For it could not really have been Elizabeth, could it? No, the young and ebony-haired girl in the blue gown and spring bonnet could not possibly have been Elizabeth, only someone who looked a little like her—because Elizabeth was safely ensconced at Shoreley Hall with their sister, Diana.

Caro had been reminding herself of that fact for the ten minutes or so that it had taken Dominic to drive the curricle back to Blackstone House—all the while shooting her frowning glances from those silver-coloured eyes, at what he obviously viewed to be her overreaction to the near-accident.

An assumption she dared not refute, for fear he would then demand an explanation as to what had really upset her.

She pulled both her hands from beneath his much larger, enveloping one. ‘Do not fuss, Dominic. I assure you I am now perfectly recovered!’

Dominic straightened to step away and lean his arm casually upon the top of the mantel as he looked down at her; this caustic Caro was much more like the one he had come to know these past two days. ‘I am glad to hear it.’ He gave a mocking inclination of his head, giving away none, he hoped, of his own disturbed emotions with regard to the near-accident.

It was difficult, nearly impossible after all that had already happened this past twelve hours, for the incident not to have once again reminded Dominic of the carriage accident that had killed his mother sixteen years ago, and resulted in the death of his father, too, only days later. Especially when Caro had obviously been rendered so upset by it all.

‘Ah, thank you, Simpson.’ He turned to the butler as he entered to place the tray containing the brandy decanter and glasses down upon the table in the centre of the room.

‘I trust Mrs Morton is feeling better, my lord?’ The remark was addressed to Dominic, but the elderly man’s gaze lingered in concern on Caro as she sat so white and still beside the fire.

She turned now to bestow a gracious smile upon the older man. ‘I am quite well now, thank you, Simpson.’ She continued to smile warmly as she removed her bonnet.

Dominic listened incredulously to the exchange—when, by all that was holy, had Caro managed to beguile his butler? An elderly man who was usually so stiffly correct he was in danger of cutting himself from the starch in his collar. ‘That will be all, Simpson,’ he dismissed the servant curtly.

Caro waited until the two of them were alone before speaking. ‘I believe, Dominic, that you might find your servants were happier in their work if you were to treat them with a little more politeness.’