The Earl Plays With Fire

by Isabelle Goddard

‘Christabel? Christabel?’ Sir Julian’s plaintive cry echoed along the deserted path.

  Then Sophia’s impatient tones. ‘She will hardly have walked here alone in the dark.’

  ‘She may have fled this way. I shall never forgive myself if anything has happened to her.’

  ‘Nothing will have happened, Sir Julian. My sister is well able to take care of herself.’

  ‘We should not have left her alone. I had no idea of such a dreadful event occurring.’

  ‘How could you? You must not blame yourself. She was alone for only a few minutes and we were dancing close by.’

  ‘But not close enough. We should have waited until Benedict returned to the box.’

  ‘Benedict!’ she snorted. ‘We would have been waiting until the Gardens closed.’

  The two stood motionless in the dim shadows of the shelter, their pulses racing and their breathing irregular. She was the first to emerge from the sultry haze, fumbling with the ties of her bodice and desperately trying to smooth the creases of her skirt. She made a monumental effort to regain her calm. Richard was still gazing down at her with a look that turned her knees to water but she gave him an agitated push towards the entrance and with a last, lingering glance, he gathered up his loo mask and slipped out of the shelter into the darkness beyond.

  ‘Christabel!’ They were still calling as she stepped out on to the Walk.

  ‘I’m here, don’t worry. I’m safe.’

  Sir Julian almost ran to her side. In his agitation his cravat had become untied and his carefully styled hair was ruffled beyond repair. He clasped her hands tightly. ‘Thank goodness, my dear. Thank goodness we’ve found you. I have been out of my mind with worry.’

  ‘I’m sorry to have caused you such concern, but I had to leave the supper box unexpectedly.’ There was hardly a tremor to her musical tones.

  Sir Julian still wore a worried expression. ‘You gave us a serious fright, my dear. When we returned to the box, it was upside down—plates broken, tablecloth askew and chairs strewn everywhere. And you had vanished. Whatever happened?’

  ‘Just a little unwanted notice from someone who’d drunk too much punch, but a passing gentleman intervened. I’ve come to no harm so let us forget about it.’

  ‘But why did you choose the Dark Walk?’ Sophia asked curiously. ‘It’s so gloomy and there’s no one around.’

  ‘I didn’t choose the Dark Walk, Sophia,’ she replied with a touch of asperity, ‘I wasn’t thinking where I was going. I was trying to escape.’

  ‘Of course,’ Sir Julian soothed. ‘And thank heaven you were able to. This unfortunate business has been entirely my fault. I was most remiss in leaving you without an escort.’

  ‘Are you all right, Miss Tallis?’ Lady Blythe and Domino were hurrying up the gravelled pathway to join them. ‘We heard Sir Julian and your sister searching for you and thought we should help.’

  ‘How kind you all are. There was a slight incident, but nothing too troublesome.’

  ‘What a relief! I told you that these Gardens were not at all the thing, Domino. I hope you will believe me now.’

  Domino hardly heard her aunt. She was looking around her uncertainly. ‘Are you sure everything is well, Miss Tallis? I thought I saw a figure among the trees just now.’

  ‘I don’t think you can have. I’m certain that I outran the man who was pestering me.’

  ‘If he’s lurking nearby, I will find the blaggard.’ Sir Julian was feeling a lot stouter now that his beloved was safe.

  ‘There’s nobody here except myself. I expect you saw the shadow of a tree, Domino. There’s so little light.’

  The girl looked unconvinced, but remained silent. The firework display was imminent and she wanted to find Benedict and speak to him urgently under cover of all the noise. Another bruising encounter with Lord Moncaster that evening had made it urgent that she exact help from her only friend.

  Sophia, too, was anxious not to miss the pyrotechnics and said grumpily, ‘I think we’ve spent long enough in this miserable spot. For goodness’ sake, let’s find our places for the display.’

  She had enjoyed two whole dances with Sir Julian before he remembered that they’d left Christabel alone. Surely that proved his love was weak. He might be enthralled by her sister’s beauty—men could be unbelievably stupid—but he didn’t truly love his fiancee, Sophia was sure. It was only a sense of duty that had prompted him to return to the supper box.

  Christabel took her place in one of the front rows of chairs. Her heart was still hammering and the promised spectacle held little appeal after the tumult of the last hour. She noticed Domino seated a little to the right. The girl must have seen Richard as he made his way back through the wood; she was attuned to him and must know his form by heart. How truly dreadful! How could Richard, how dared he, make such abandoned love to her even as his betrothed was walking close by. And after all her promises to herself, she had succumbed without an instant’s hesitation. They had both behaved disgracefully.

  She would never have come if she’d known he was to be here this evening. And surely he should have escorted Domino and Lady Blythe. Instead he’d chosen to come alone and in disguise, and there could only be one reason. His motive had to be the freedom it gave him to act badly, the chance to continue her punishment. His fury at her betrothal was still fresh in her mind and it would be easy for him to find an opportunity to torment under cover of darkness. Not that he’d had to search very hard. She’d offered herself, all of herself, without restraint. Willingly, eagerly. She could still see the deep grey of his eyes, glowing and intense in the shadows, the strong curves of his face sculpted out of the dark by the silvery haze and then the feel of his skin on hers, the feel of his touch as he skilfully explored her body for the first time. But in the warm darkness he had seemed as caught up in the moment as she, in thrall to this intoxicating passion that had flamed between them. Even so she knew this could not be. She lived in daily expectation of reading the notice of his forthcoming marriage. Once he had confessed this new love to Lady Anne, he would publish it to the world.

  A few seats away Domino had already forgotten that shadowy figure in the Dark Walk. She had more pressing matters on her mind. As soon as the first cluster of fireworks was tracing its multi-coloured path through the sky she slipped quietly away, leaving her aunt looking skywards. Benedict wasn’t hard to find. He was on the outer circle of people, laughing and talking with some choice spirits he’d managed to befriend during the evening. She recognised his slim, rangy figure immediately. He hardly need have bothered to don his loo mask.

  The touch of Leo Moncaster’s hands earlier that evening was still on her and she felt slightly sick. She knew that she’d brought this trouble on herself. She’d set out to win back the favour that Moncaster possessed and free herself of his presence for ever. Instead she’d ended up in even deeper debt and he now held her vowels for a sum of money she could never hope to repay.

  Tonight when he’d tracked her down and skilfully detached her from her aunt, she’d been forced to submit to his caresses. Under cover of darkness and in the midst of the boisterous crowd, he’d taken liberties that Domino was desperate to blot from her mind. It was a piece of great good fortune that at that moment Sir Julian had raised the alarm. Moncaster had melted away and she’d been reunited with Lady Blythe.

  But not before he’d whispered his very clear threats in her ear. A handkerchief was but a poor return for the friendship he’d extended. She owed him money and he would be paid one way or another. The time for settlement had come, but this was by far too public a place. His house would prove a much cosier love nest. They were both bid to Sophia Tallis’s come-out ball on Friday. He would see her there and when the dancing was at its height would send a signal to her to slip away and meet him outside. A carriage would be waiting to take them to his town mansion for an intimate dinner a deux followed by…well, he would no doubt think of something. He would deliver her back to the ball in time for
Aunt Loretta to take her home and no one would be the wiser.

  Domino was in despair. When she’d first met Leo Moncaster he’d seemed a dashing, handsome, experienced man of the world whom she’d managed to attract despite being little more than a schoolgirl. But very soon she’d been forced to confront the frightening reality that she was at the mercy of a predator with a perverted taste in young girls. She knew herself to be too naive and inexperienced to deal with the situation alone and she could only hope that Benedict would prove her saviour.

  ‘You must come away with me at the ball,’ she announced to him, hardly waiting to exchange the customary pleasantries.

  He gaped. ‘Come away with you! What are you talking about?’

  ‘At your sister’s ball! I’ll be there and so will Moncaster. You must take me away or I’ll be forced to go with him.’

  ‘Are you crazy? Have the fireworks fried your brains?’

  ‘I’m serious. He’ll make me go with him if I don’t escape.’

  ‘Don’t be so bird-witted. He can’t force you to do anything if you don’t wish it.’

  ‘He has my handkerchief—you know that—and now he has my IOUs too.’

  ‘What!’

  She hung her head, not daring to meet his gaze. ‘You wouldn’t help me and I tried to win back the handkerchief and lost even more money. If I don’t do as he says, he will go to my aunt with my vowels and tell her how dreadfully I’ve behaved.’

  He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Then speak to her yourself before he can. I told you before that your best hope is to be honest with her—throw yourself on her mercy.’

  ‘But now it’s worse. It’s not just the money—she’ll suspect that I’ve behaved, well…not very properly,’ she finished lamely.

  ‘Of course you haven’t behaved properly,’ Benedict exploded. ‘But she must know what kind of fellow Moncaster is and she won’t judge you too harshly, I’m sure.’

  ‘She’ll send me to Spain immediately and I’ll be travelling there in disgrace. When I arrive, they’ll say I’ve brought shame on the family. They might even lock me up!’

  ‘And how will going away with me be less shameful?’

  ‘I won’t really go away with you, or at least not far, but I need you to make arrangements for me. A carriage to Dover and then a passage across the Channel.’

  ‘You can’t travel all that way alone, a chit of a girl like you.’

  ‘I’m not a chit.’

  ‘You’re seventeen and the biggest wet goose I’ve ever met.’

  The conversation was not turning out the way she’d hoped and Domino could see her chance of securing his help fading away.

  ‘Benedict, please, please, help me. If you don’t think I should travel alone, come with me as far as Paris. My father has friends there and I could stay with them. They’ll help me travel on to Spain.’

  The pleading in her soft brown eyes was having its effect, but he still couldn’t understand what she would gain from her plan.

  ‘But don’t you see,’ she said trying hard to remain patient, ‘I can leave a note for Aunt Loretta saying that I’ve left London because I’m so unhappy. Someone I met has hurt me.’ That at least was true. ‘I’ll ask her to keep my confidence and not discuss with anyone why I’ve left. She won’t know about the debts and neither will my relatives in Spain. They’ll just think that I’ve arrived a little earlier than they expected.’

  ‘And when Lord Moncaster knocks at your aunt’s door with your IOUs after you’ve left?’

  ‘Do you think he will?’ A scared look had returned to her face and Benedict relented.

  ‘Probably not. It’s you he wants, not the money. Once you’ve fled, there won’t be much point in trying to harass Lady Blythe.’

  ‘There, you see, I’m right. All we have to do is to get to Paris and then everyone will be happy.’

  ‘Oh yes, everyone,’ he said acidly. ‘And how do you propose that we get to Paris? Hiring a carriage to Dover costs money and if you think I’m travelling with you on the common stage, you can think again. And when we get to the port, there’ll be money needed for a boat ticket and you might not get a berth straight away. That will mean laying down more blunt to pay for accommodation.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll stay overnight in Dover,’ she said hurriedly.

  There would be little point in rescuing her reputation from Leo Moncaster’s clutches only to have it shredded by another man.

  ‘We’ll go on board straight away.’

  Benedict wasn’t at all sure that would be possible; he imagined that berths on ships crossing the Channel had to be booked some time in advance, but Domino seemed to know what she was talking about. He’d never travelled beyond England before and the girl’s assurances that she still had a large sum of her father’s money intact and that she spoke passable French finally convinced him. He was still feeling guilty that her troubles had begun when he’d introduced her to gambling. He cursed that evening heartily. If he’d had a clue what she would do, he would have kept dancing that night until his feet dropped off. Wearily he agreed to ride with her the next day and make their detailed plans for her escape on Friday evening.

  Christabel heard her brother coming in a few hours later. He made no attempt to be quiet, banging the front door behind him and thudding loudly up the stairs to his room. Presumably his night at Vauxhall had gone little better than hers. Her evening had been ruined. Not by the drunken intruder, for her fear of him had been fleeting; almost as soon as she’d realised that he could be a real danger, Richard had knocked the man down and thrown him over the barrier. Then in swift succession their escape from the crowd, the breathless journey up the Dark Walk and finally those moments of sweet delight. Once again he’d set her body alight and left her yearning and confused. Once again she had known no caution. Consumed by raw desire for him, she’d matched him kiss for kiss, caress for caress. The soaring pleasure she’d felt as their naked skins fused still had the power to set her heart pounding all these hours later. Surely she must believe she was loved.

  But, no, he was playing with her—his affections lay elsewhere. He was simply intent on proving her unfaithful, especially now that he so abhorred the marriage she was about to make. He wished to expose her as a woman who accepted one man while making impassioned love with another. Her betrothal should have protected her from folly, but once again she had betrayed Sir Julian. While he was frantically searching for her, she was being caressed into ecstasy by another. She had wanted Richard as badly as she would ever want a man and had shown him just as plainly. If they’d not been interrupted, she knew she would have given herself to him completely. He had proved her forthcoming marriage was nothing more than a sham, proved she was the inconstant woman he’d always thought her. He had won their battle of wills.

  Chapter Seven

  If Christabel wondered why her old lover had chosen to roam the gardens of Vauxhall alone, masked and in disguise, Richard was asking himself much the same question. He’d refused Domino’s invitation to escort her to the fete and with good reason. Accompanying her to a masked revelry was unlikely to wean her from her infatuation and he’d already been at pains to bid her goodbye. The legal papers he’d tarried for were now signed and stamped and while Domino was enjoying the party, he was supposed to be well on his way to Cornwall. Yet last night he’d lurked in the shadows, eager to avoid detection, his cloak and loo mask a flimsy disguise. Why on earth had he done so?

  The news of Christabel’s betrothal had fallen on him like a bludgeoning hammer. He’d felt himself disintegrating from the force of his anger and had needed immediate action, immediate distraction, to free himself from the fury that had him in its grip and was literally shaking him. He’d ridden swiftly from St James’s to the livery stables, then marched straight to Jackson’s Boxing Saloon where half-a-dozen rounds with the Gentleman himself had left him physically bruised and battered, but feeling a good deal better. At least for a while. But then the old haunting r
efrain began once more and a fervent need to see her swept over him. She’d been adamant that he stay away and he dared not risk another open confrontation. The temptation to grab her there and then and show her just why she shouldn’t marry Sir Julian would be irresistible. Yet the need to see her was like a drug. It had him in its grip and would not let go. The fireworks at Vauxhall had been talked about for weeks and he knew she would be there.

  In the event he’d been reduced to watching her from afar. He’d seen her take her place in the supper box with her irritating sister and that stuffed shirt Edgerton. She had looked magnificent—her wayward curls framing a pellucid skin had seemed almost alive and ready to spill into a cascade of fire. And the fall of her gown, its rich, gold silk, had transformed her slender figure into voluptuous beauty. He’d stood transfixed, desire touching every one of his senses and almost sweeping them away. He’d felt himself galvanised into action, urged forwards to leap the barrier and pull her into his arms. Almost, but not quite. Self-discipline had somehow prevailed and he’d continued to watch from the shadows.

  But when the intruder had suddenly appeared and threatened her, caution had been thrown to the winds. There’d been immense satisfaction in taking out his frustration on the miserable unfortunate who had dared to frighten this goddess. And then the whirlwind run with her up the Dark Walk to elude the attentions of the gathering crowd. Looking back, he recognised their flight had been more than a response to menace. It was an attempt to escape with her, to run away and leave behind the mess they had jointly made and just simply be together. The memories of their tryst were still with him: the soft rustle of foliage, the sweet odour of lilacs and her body inviting and responsive beneath his hands. He was her prisoner and the ferocious desire she aroused in him was causing as much suffering as he’d ever inflicted.

  For she belonged to another man. She could not break the engagement she had entered—the label of jilt would not be so easily shrugged off this time. She would have to marry Sir Julian. Already she was progressing steadily towards the altar, preparing herself for a calm and uneventful life with a calm and uneventful man. That was the choice she’d made and, for her sake, he must stand back and let her follow it. Wasn’t true love selfless?