Dominic (Books We Love historical romance)

by Hazel Statham

  Chapter Seven

  After spending a sennight at Stovely, The Duke and Duchess of Lear returned to London, taking their new charge with them. However, having no desire to return with his family, his lordship stated his intention of remaining in the country to await his dividends.

  *****

  Almost as soon as the party arrived at Blake House, preparations for Sophie’s entrance into society were set under way. Being unused to so much attention, she remained in a complete daze as visits were arranged to provide her with the wardrobe necessary for her introduction to the aristocracy. When she showed great concern about the cost of the garments being ordered, the duchess brushed aside all protestations.

  “Tis nothing,” she declared. “I am enjoying myself prodigiously and so are the girls. Of a sudden they have acquired a new sister.” To herself she added as an afterthought, I only wish that Dominic was here to witness our endeavors.

  However, as soon as the period of his enforced rustication was over and his finances were restored, the earl also forsook Stoveley’s portals for the superior attractions afforded by the city. Arriving at his rooms rather later at night than he had anticipated, it was then not until noon of the following day that he was able to present himself at Blake House.

  Upon entering the hallway the porter informed his lordship that his parents and sisters were out at the present, only Miss Sophie remaining at home, and upon being commanded to supply her whereabouts declared that he believed her to be in the long gallery.

  Depositing his hat and cane with this worthy individual, Vale took the stairs two at a time to the upper story, but upon entering the gallery he did not immediately perceive Sophie. However, the sound of a small sob drew his attention to a window seat at the further end of the room where she sat chin on hand, staring through the window, oblivious of his arrival.

  “What is this, brat?” he asked in rallying tones as he advanced along its length. “Don’t tell me that you grow tired of London society so soon, or is it that you miss your gun and rod?”

  “Dominic,” she cried leaping from her seat and running to meet him. “Oh, I am so glad that you are here at last. I was beginning to despair of you ever coming.”

  “What, do they treat you so ill that you are driven to this?” he asked mockingly, as she stood before him.

  “Not at all, not at all,” she smiled, eyes bright, shaking her head, “but I have missed your company dreadfully. I do believe I need you to keep me in check.”

  Smiling, he flicked her chin casually with one slender finger. “A fact I do not doubt,” he said, “I too have missed my pupil. I had grown used to her impudent ways. Though I did think that maybe a few weeks away from my influence would perhaps improve her manners and she would no longer need my guidance.”

  “Never!” she cried hotly. “I shall always need your guidance in all things.”

  “Was I such a hard task master?” he asked quietly, studying her face. “Did I treat you too severely?”

  She dimpled up at him. “Of course not, and as Jack I took liberties which as Sophie would have been quite unacceptable. I am sure I proved a severe trial to you.”

  He grinned in return. “I must admit to a desire to box your ears at times, brat, especially when I have needs to chase after coaches to retrieve you.” Then taking her hand and sobering slightly, “Now let us take a seat and you can tell me why you were crying when I arrived.”

  “I was just lonely, sir,” she said, seating herself beside him on the window seat.

  “Lonely?” he repeated incredulously. “When you have my parents and sisters to keep you company? Do they not satisfy you?”

  “Of course they do, but you must know that it was for my tutor that I pined, but now that you are come, all is to rights.” And she tucked a confiding hand in his.

  They fell silent for a moment, each engaged in their own thoughts, until suddenly Sophie’s face lit up. “I have an excellent idea,” she enthused. “Whilst we have the house to ourselves, could I not change into my breeches and you could continue with my fencing lessons? It would be perfect!”

  “No, I have a much better idea,” he said, smiling down at her. “Now wait here, I will only be a moment,” and he left the gallery to return a short while later with an oblong rosewood box in his hands.

  “Pistols?” she enquired enthusiastically.

  “Nothing so blood thirsty, imp,” he smiled, as he placed the box onto a small table and lifted the lid.

  The sweet tones of a musical box floated through the gallery and, standing before her, he held out his hand. In his most courtly manner he asked, “Would Miss Thornton do me the honor of dancing with me?”

  “Dominic!” she squeaked incredulously, taken completely off guard. Laying her hand in his she allowed herself to be led to the center of the gallery where, once more bowing low, to her great delight, he took her through the complex and regal movements of the minuet, showing he possessed an elegance one would not have suspected.

  *****

  So engrossed were they in the intricacies of the dance that they failed to see that they were observed. Having been apprised of her son’s arrival, the duchess had repaired immediately to the gallery, arriving in time to witness the last few movements and a slow smile spread over her countenance.

  “Bravo,” she applauded as the final notes died away and she came to stand at Sophie’s side. “You have succeeded, where so many have failed, my love, in getting my son to dance. He so often refuses and appears churlish, yet why I do not know. He dances so creditably.”

  Following in their mother’s wake Regina and Isabella chose that moment to arrive at the door.

  “Oh Lord, not you, Dominic,” scowled Regina. “That is the end of our peace. Could you not have stayed away just a little longer?”

  Making a profound leg, Vale smiled sweetly. “As you see, I have returned, ladies. My apologies if you find my homecoming so untimely.”

  “Well I for one am prodigiously glad to see you,” said Isabella, a dainty brunet. “At least now Father’s attention will be taken away from me and my wrong doings. Yours far outweigh mine.”

  “I am glad to be of some service,” replied Vale silkily, “and if my main role in life is to take the burden of family wrongs onto my shoulders, then I am only too glad to be of assistance.”

  For as much as his return had been so ill received by his sister, the earl delighted his mother and Sophie by remaining with them for the remainder of the day, even going so far as to join them in their evening meal.

  “I know not what has come over Dominic,” confided Isabella to Sophie when he finally departed for his rooms. “I have rarely seen him in such a pleasant mood. Perhaps Stovely has improved his temper.”

  *****

  These thoughts were echoed somewhat when he met Wroxham at his club that evening. “You look well, Dominic,” he said, taking the seat beside him at the Faro table. “In far better shape than when I saw you last. Admit it, country life suits you,” and he gave a knowing wink. “Met your sisters and their new acquaintance in the park the other day, and now know why you were in no hurry to send for me. I must say I don’t blame you.”

  Vale’s countenance darkened. “Have a care,” he warned menacingly, “or I may find it necessary to serve you a leveler. I will have none of your damn insinuations.”

  “Just so,” replied Wroxham, drawing his chair slightly away. “I assure you, I but jest.”

  “Then keep your jests for those who would appreciate them and confine your comments to the cards. Whatever thoughts you might have are quite wrong and I will thank you not to repeat them. The lady in question is a Lady and should be treated as such, do you hear?”

  “I hear very well, Dominic, and understand exactly. No more words will pass my lips on the subject I assure you.”

  “I am relieved to hear it, my friend. It would be very fatiguing if I should be required to exert myself in a bout of fisticuffs.”

  “And totally unnecessa
ry,” assured Wroxham. “I admit I was wrong in my suppositions.”

  “Exactly! Now perhaps we can confine our energies to the cards, for once they run in my favor. It would seem my luck has changed!”

  “Even so, Dominic, do you think it wise to drink so deeply, would it not be better to keep a clear head for the cards?”

  “Be assured my friend, I am nowhere near approaching my cups, but if I were, I assure you, my play would not suffer.”

  Chapter Eight

  Society showed a keen interest in the Duchess of Lear’s new protégée, and when invitations were issued to a ball to be held in her honor at Blake House, it was seen that very few refused. Indeed, had Regina not already been on the brink of an engagement to Lord Anthony Bannington she would have been jealous of the curiosity that the event excited. However, confirmed in her Anthony’s devotion, she saw no reason to resent Sophie’s entrance into society and she too entered into the spirit of the occasion with some enthusiasm.

  Sophie faced the event with mixed feelings. As natural to all young ladies, she delighted in the preparations and the new gown ordered for the occasion, but the sheer magnificence of the affair and the personages who would be present overawed her and tempered her eagerness. Fortunately the earl had promised his mother that he would attend the ball, and even, to the duchess’s great delight, remain at Blake House for a few days afterwards.

  To this Sophie clung, assured that his lordship’s presence would give her the confidence she so desperately needed. With Dominic, she would be safe. There would be no need to guard her tongue or mind her manners, he understood her very well. There was no necessity for conventionalities between them; indeed, none had ever existed.

  *****

  On the evening of the ball, Sophie sat nervously before her mirror whilst the duchess’s maid arranged her curls into a most modish creation and added the powder. Standing back to admire the maid’s handiwork, the duchess took a pink rose that lay on the small table beside her and secured it just above Sophie’s left ear with a small diamond buckle. “Perfect!” she exclaimed, “now just the merest touch of rouge, so, and just the suggestion of lip salve. Now for the dress…”

  Sophie stood in her petticoats of foaming white lace and a dress of the palest pink crystal satin was deftly flung over her head and laced up at the back.

  Adjusting the shoulders so that they lay low on her arms, the duchess stood back to view her handiwork. “You will break hearts this night, my love,” she cried. “Indeed, I cannot wait to see the look on Dom –” but she pulled herself up short. It would not do to try to hurry matters, there was nothing of courtship in his manner and Sophie seemed oblivious of her attraction.

  Giving her ward’s cheek a gentle pat of satisfaction, she retreated to her own apartment to hurriedly complete her own preparations.

  The duke and the earl stood in the hallway taking a glass of burgundy before the arrival of their guests, both had dressed to perfection and presented imposing figures as befitted their station. His lordship, dressed in midnight satin, had even allowed his valet to powder his raven locks for the occasion. Hearing a movement at the top of the stairs they both turned to see Sophie and the duchess standing at the head of the impressive staircase, the duchess holding back so that Sophie descended alone.

  For a moment, Vale stood mesmerized by the transformation of his pupil, then laying aside his wineglass on a side table, he went forward to meet her with hand outstretched. To himself he whispered incredulously, “By Gad, but my Sophie transforms into a beauty,” but as she reached the bottom step he recovered and smiled. “Come, Jack, this night is yours,” he said, and bowing low, kissed her hand.

  The duchess, following in her wake did not miss the significance of the moment but any comment she would have made to her husband was forestalled by the arrival of the first guests.

  The evening had barely begun but it seemed to Sophie that the whole house was full of richly clothed people of rank and fortune and still she could hear more arrivals. Turning to Vale who stood at her side and laying a confidential hand on his arm she whispered, “It is all so exciting Dominic. I have made the acquaintance of so many people, but scarce remember their names.”

  He smiled, laying his hand over hers. “Have no fear, you are not expected to remember everyone. Ah, here is my friend Wroxham, that is one name you will not forget,” and as Wroxham stood before them, “Miss Thornton, please allow me to present Lord John Wroxham to you.” Sophie curtseyed and Wroxham took her hand to his lips.

  “We have met before, my dear Miss Thornton, in the park if you remember, but thus far we have not been formally introduced. However, now that we have, will you do me the honor of standing up with me when you are free to join in the dancing?”

  “Certainly, sir,” replied Sophie, dimpling prettily as she dropped a brief curtsey.

  Watching his friend depart to the ballroom, Vale frowned. “Did you have to appear quite so keen,” he snapped. “You have not yet agreed to dance with me.”

  “But you have not asked me, Dominic, and I know your aversion to dancing,” she replied, peeping roguishly at him.

  “Then will you?” he asked sharply.

  “Of course, but not if you look so thunderously at me.”

  “Ungrateful chit,” was his laughing reply as he left her side to seek out his friend.

  As the evening progressed, the duke became aware that his son’s eyes forever followed Sophie about the room as if reluctant to lose sight of her, and he was taken aback by the amused indulgence evident on his face as he viewed her success. Looking toward his wife, he raised an enquiring brow and in return she gave a knowing smile.

  Drawing him slightly to one side so as not to be overheard she said, “Novel is it not, my love? Do you not see how she fascinates him? Dominic is not even aware that his affections are engaged. Sophie captivates him and yet he knows it not. She invades his thoughts and he knows not the implication.”

  The duke raised his brows. “Are you saying that she sets her sights on the boy?” he asked incredulously.

  “Certainly not! Sophie is innocent and not even aware of her attraction. She uses no ploys. She is open and naive and so obviously adores him, and still he does not see it. It is what he needs to bring him about, to settle his lifestyle, for she needs to be loved and protected and he will never tire of it. Although I have seen them together on so few occasions, it is obvious that he sees her in a totally different light than any other girl of his acquaintance. He teases her and she replies, not with missish ways, but with a liveliness of mind, which even if she were not as pretty as she so obviously is, would surely engage his interest. He will never tire of her or become bored with her company. I would encourage this match, Marcel. It could bring about results we have both desired.”

  “Humph,” was the duke’s only reply, not being as thoroughly convinced as his wife of the situation, but unable to offer an alternative explanation.

  It was as well then that both were unaware of the thoughts that chased through Vale’s mind at that precise moment. Seeing Sophie accepting Wroxham’s invitation to join in the dancing, he had an overwhelming desire to box her ears and a fervent wish to break his friend’s jaw. In fact, the whole situation threw him so completely out of sorts that he left the ballroom in high dudgeon and sought the comforts of the card room and there spent the remainder of the evening. Even his mother’s request that he should join her for supper and not ignore their guests went unheeded. He was totally perplexed by the new and hitherto unknown emotions that would rise and threaten to overcome him, breeding in him an unease he could not fathom.

  However, as the last of the guests departed and he was aware that the other members of the family had retired to their apartments, he removed himself to the small salon at the rear of the house, which was lit only by the fire that burned in the grate. Still not in the best of humors he poured himself a glass of brandy and threw himself sullenly into the large chair by the hearth and watched as the fli
ckering flames started to die away.

  Aware of his mounting resentment towards Wroxham which, despite his attempts to quell it, still lingered in his breast, he reasoned that Sophie had the right to dance with whomever she desired. “Damme, but does she have to seem to enjoy dancing with him quite so much, could she not have demurred and danced with me as she promised? Did she have to appear quite so happy? Damn the chit!”

  He must have spoken the words aloud for a small voice from the doorway brought him upright in his seat as Sophie crept into the room.

  “To whom are you talking?” she enquired peering into the darkened corners of the room and pulling her satin wrap firmly about her slender figure.

  “You,” came his harsh reply as he sat back in the chair. “Ungrateful chit that you are.”

  “How did you know I was here?” she enquired coming to stand completely unselfconsciously before him.

  “What are you doing down here at this time of night?” he enquired waspishly, ignoring her question. “Thought you would have tired yourself out dancing with Wroxham, you suited each other so exactly. Indeed, you appeared to take excessive pleasure in his company.”

  “Why should I not dance with him, Dominic? You didn’t come to claim me and it was my ball. I couldn’t stand every dance out in hopes that you would come. It would have looked so strange. Besides, you disappeared and I thought I had displeased you in some way.”

  “And so you had,” he replied relenting only slightly. “Now, if you will insist on keeping company with me, come and sit down, at least then I will not have the inconvenience of having to turn my head to look at you.”

  “Wretch,” she said, chuckling and pulling a footstool to his knee. Seating herself there, she too gazed into the fire, saying, “I care not what you say, I will not allow you to put me out of frame. I enjoyed myself prodigiously tonight. Did not you?”