Thornton watched his going beneath lowered brows, until as his lordship pulled wide the door, he snatched up one of the empty bottles from the table and lunged forward, bringing it viciously down across the back of Vale’s head, sending him sprawling into the corridor. As his lordship fell heavily to the floor the pistol spilled from his pocket but was taken up immediately by a small fury who had been sitting in the shadows waiting for him for what seemed an eternity. Thornton fell back in amazement as with pistol before her Sophie pressed him back into the room, an unbelievable hatred on her face.
For a moment he did not recognize his assailant and wiped his sleeve across his misted eyes. “How in God’s name did you get here?” he cried as recognition came.
Ignoring his question Sophie came forward to stand only a short distance from him. “If you have killed Dominic I will kill you,” she cried, her voice breaking with emotion.
“Kill me?—with that popgun?” he sneered, and then wheedled, “Come now, Sophie, give it to me and let’s have done with this nonsense. You do not wish to kill your brother.”
“I do! I certainly do! At this moment it is the thing I most wish to do.”
“Have done with this stupidity, you don’t even know how to fire a gun.”
“That is where you are quite mistaken, Raymond. I know very well.”
Disbelieving, he advanced slowly toward her, hand outstretched. “Give it to me,” he commanded, “before you do any harm.”
“I warn you, come any closer and I will fire.”
Thornton eyed her uncertainly but the drink made him reckless and he lunged forward and in that instant the pistol spoke, the noise of its report going unnoticed in the clamor that issued from below.
Vale raised himself on his elbow just in time to see Thornton slump to the floor clutching his shoulder and swearing profusely, before finally losing consciousness.
Still dazed from the blow, he found it difficult to comprehend the scene until Sophie, tears streaming down her cheeks, came quickly to his side and placing her arm about his waist, assisted him to rise.
“By all the saints, you spitfire,” he said gently, as holding her to him he rested the pistol from her grasp and safely pocketed it. Retaining her within the circle of his arm, he led her from the room and closed the door securely behind them.
“I have shot my brother,” she cried.
“Aye, so you have, Jack, but not mortally,” he assured. “Unfortunately he will live, but unless I am much mistaken he will bear witness of your wrath for the rest of his days. Now I must have you away from here, ‘tis no fitting place for you and then you can tell me how you came here, how you knew where to find us.”
As she raised fearful eyes to his face he brushed her hair from her brow. “Have no fear, my little one, he survives yet. Let us go before he regains consciousness.”
Chapter Eleven
“I must get you back to Blake House immediately,” said Vale, hastily pushing Sophie into a shabby conveyance and ordering the driver to the better part of town. “The servants will be stirring shortly and it would not do that you should be found out.”
Sophie gave no answer, her thoughts were still at the inn with her brother and she was seeing again his cumbersome form left sprawled on the bedroom floor.
“How the deuce did you know where to find me?” commanded Vale, as he threw himself into the seat beside her. “Whatever induced you to take a hand in the matter? Had I not promised you that I would settle the affair?”
“You very nearly did not, sir,” smiled Sophie weakly as she at last raised her head.
“No, I very nearly did not, child,” he agreed softly. “If it hadn’t been for my pupil it would have, in all probability, been my frame now lying on those boards. But you still haven’t told me how you came there.”
“Lord Wroxham explained everything to me.”
“He betrayed my trust?” asked Vale with harsh incredulity.
“It had not been his intention, Dominic. I made him tell me.”
“How?”
She gave a half smile. “I scolded a little, and cried a little. He has not your resolve you see.”
“Too true! That would not have worked with me, Jack, and well you know.”
“But then he is not you, sir. I would never attempt such ploys with you.”
“That you would not, my Jack, and if you had I would have boxed your ears soundly. How were you able to escape from Blake House without being noticed?”
She chuckled. “Oh that was quite easy. Everyone has gone to the opera; I just pleaded a headache and remained at home. When they return they will assume me to be asleep and no one will check my room. As for escaping the house—I left by the kitchen door, wearing my breeches. Anyone who saw me would think I was just a young footman or some such.”
“How will we be able to return you, the kitchen door will have been locked for the night?”
“I left the pantry window on the latch, so that is not a problem.”
“You seem to have thought of everything. Quite ingenious,” said Vale, amused by her resourcefulness.
“You know, I think I would have quite liked to have been a boy,” she confided, resting her head against his shoulder. “Then I would have been able to accompany you when you go out of an evening.”
Vale smiled into the darkness. “I trust you will not become too attached to masquerading as a boy. The time is approaching when you will have to put your breeches aside.”
“Never!” she declared hotly.
“That is a matter we will have needs to discuss, though now is not perhaps the best time.”
The carriage came to a halt outside Blake House just as the first fingers of dawn were beginning to appear over the skyline and, telling the driver to wait for him, the earl accompanied Sophie around to the kitchens at the rear of the house.
“We must hurry to get you inside,” he said keeping his voice low. “You have not long to get to your room as you must not be seen. I will come for you shortly after noon and we will drive out. No Isabella or Regina, just you and I.”
“It will be as if we were still at Stovely, Dominic,” she smiled tiredly, “but won’t it cause comment?”
He grinned. “Comment be damned. Just make sure you don’t wear your breeches, which would cause a scandal, and that is definitely something we could do without. Now, in with you,” and linking his fingers for her to step on to, he threw her up to the window, making sure she had gained entry before retracing his steps and returning to the waiting coach.
*****
“I cannot understand this penchant you have for Dominic’s company,” complained Regina when Sophie mentioned the projected drive as the family sat over breakfast a few hours later. “Your headache has left you looking somewhat worn this morning. I would have thought you would have been better resting this afternoon as we go to a soiree at Lady Buckmaster’s this evening. I believe Dominic also to have been invited. Could you not have waited until then if you have need to see him?”
“But I enjoy driving out and have had so little opportunity,” replied Sophie.
“Sophie is free to do whatever she wishes,” interrupted the duchess, “and if Dominic has offered to escort her, so much the better.”
“He never offers to escort me, his sister,” complained Regina petulantly.
“And tell truth you don’t wish it,” replied the duchess calmly. “Besides, you have your Anthony and I am sure he is only too willing to drive out with you at any time.”
“He’s coming to see me this morning,” said Regina enthusiastically. “Perhaps if I ask him, we could add to your numbers, Sophie?”
“That is not necessary,” interpolated the duchess. “Sophie and Dominic have made their arrangements and if they had intended making up a party they would have said so. Do you not agree, my love?” she said turning to her husband for support.
“Whatever arrangements the boy chooses to make are his own affair,” replied the duke, giving only half h
is attention to the matter as he read through the mail his secretary had brought to him. “I see no reason why whatever he wishes to do should become a matter of so much comment. I have no interest in it.”
Casting him a despairing look, the duchess brought the matter to an end by saying, “I see no reason at all why they should not drive out together. Sophie, after all, is considered as family and as such should not excite any comment from the tabbies.”
*****
With thoughts of the previous night still fresh in her mind, Sophie waited impatiently for the earl to arrive and was relieved when she finally heard his voice in the hall demanding her presence. Catching her skirts, she hurried down to meet him, eager to be away and in his company once more.
When they were seated in the high perch phaeton and moving away from Blake House, Vale needed to keep his mind on the road, his attention being claimed by the two high-spirited bloods between the shafts. “I had thought we might drive toward Richmond,” he said without turning his head. “It will be less crowded and will allow us more freedom.”
“Not as much freedom as Stovely,” said Sophie smiling up at him. “How I long for those days.”
Smiling, he reached over and laid his hand over hers, saying, “I too, Jack, but those days can never be regained,” and she was taken aback by the sadness in his voice. “When we are outside the city we must talk,” he continued. “There are things that must be said, situations I would explain.”
“Could you not tell me now?” she pleaded.
“‘Tis best that we should wait until we cannot be overheard.”
Their progress through the city streets was necessarily slow and the horses fretted in their eagerness to be away. However, as they reached the outskirts, Vale relaxed his hold on the reins somewhat and they went forward at a spanking trot, passing what few vehicles remained on the road.
Sophie, examining his profile, saw a sternness she had not seen before and it moved her to enquire with some trepidation, “Are you so very angry with me for following you last night, Dominic?”
“No, child, no,” he responded with the briefest of smiles, his mind being otherwise engaged. “Forgive me, but there is a matter of some importance I would discuss with you and I know not how to broach the subject. There are the ruins of an abbey a short distance ahead, perhaps we could alight there and then we can talk.”
Taking the phaeton into what had once been the abbey’s grounds; the earl leapt nimbly down from the seat and tethered the horses before turning to help Sophie to alight. Raising his arms he lifted her down, retaining her within his clasp for a moment longer than was necessary, but as Sophie raised a questioning gaze to his face, he let her go and turned away.
“Dominic, there is something very much amiss, will you not tell me?” she implored going to his side.
Taking her hand he drew it through his arm. “Walk with me a little,” he said.
Sophie could see that the frown still creased his brow and she silently kept step beside him, waiting for his confidence. He took her out of the confines of the abbey and they walked around its perimeter toward a small coppice. As they entered the trees he relinquished his hold on her hand and stood before her.
“Sophie, there is something I must explain,” he said, and she was startled by the intensity of his gaze and waited for him to continue. “Vauxhalls...” he began, but she turned away.
“There is no need,” she cried putting up her hand as he would have started toward her. “No explanations are necessary, not to me.”
He ignored the pleading gesture and instead took hold of her shoulders, turning her to face him. “You don’t understand. It was merely a folly, an attempt to divert my thoughts...”
She looked up at the dark visage that seemed to tower above her and lived again the feelings of devastation that had so threatened to overcome her that night in the gardens.
“You mistake, sir,” she cried. “Whomever you choose to take as your mistress is no affair of mine; you are not answerable to me. I have no claim on your actions.”
“Do you not?” he enquired gently as he attempted to draw her to him. “I believe that you do.”
“I certainly do not,” she cried pressing her hands against his chest. “But I would ask you why you found it quite so necessary to prove your regard for her in such a public place as the gardens.”
“You saw?” he asked incredulously. “I would have saved you that. As for regard, I have no regard whatsoever for her...”
“Then shame on you, sir, for acting so. Have you no thought for her feelings? Now let me go, I would return.”
He did not relinquish his hold, instead he held her still more firmly to him. “Sophie, you do not understand,” he pleaded. “Listen to me, let me explain...”
“Keep your explanations, sir, for those who would value them. I would have none of your excuses.”
For a moment he said nothing but stood looking intently into the face raised to his, then of a sudden his resolve broke and bending he ground his mouth cruelly onto hers, demanding her understanding. But none came. ‘Till, as he would have moved his lips to her face and neck, he at last became aware of her distress at his actions. She did not move, but her eyes, wide with fear, beseeched him. Immediately he relinquished his hold on her and turned away, his breath coming harshly from between his lips. “Forgive me, I know not what I do,” he said, his voice almost inaudible as, unable to believe his own foolishness, he struggled to bring his emotions under control.
She stood for a moment unable to move, her thoughts in turmoil. Then finding her power of speech she cried, “I am not your Bird of Paradise, Dominic, you treat me shamefully.”
“I can only once more beg your forgiveness,” he said, regaining some of his control and turning to face her. “Come, we will return. I have played the fool to my detriment and destroyed your confidence in me in the process.”
“Never that,” she whispered to herself as he took her arm and led her out of the coppice toward the abbey. “I love you too well.”
The drive back to Blake House was achieved in an awful silence, neither knowing how to approach the other, both regretting their actions, wishing to relive the scene once more so that other words could be said, other actions taken.
Chapter Twelve
The soiree at Lady Buckmaster’s proved to be a very popular affair. It would seem that half of London society had graced it with their presence. So fierce was the press that the earl almost immediately made the decision to retreat to his club as soon as courtesy allowed. However, he resolved to see Sophie before he should make his exit. There had been a considerable feeling of disquiet raging within his breast when he had helped her to alight at Blake House earlier that day, and he must speak to her again for his own peace of mind. He needed to assure himself that he had not filled her with an irreparable feeling of repugnance for him; not destroyed her trust. These feelings were completely new to him. Hitherto it had not occurred to him that in any way his actions could affect his standing in the female eye, so sure had he been in his own ability to conquer. Never before had his own feeling been so heavily involved as for it to make any impact on his conduct.
If this is what love is like, then heaven preserve me from its consequence, he thought, tossing back yet another glass of burgundy.
He had searched in vain for sight of his family but as yet he had not witnessed their arrival. However he had seen that Wroxham was present and determined to have words with him as the night progressed, to leave him in no doubts as to his condemnation of his action in telling all to Sophie and so placing her in danger.
After what seemed an age, the Duke of Lear’s party finally arrived and Vale’s attention was immediately claimed by the paleness of Sophie’s face as his mother introduced her to their hostess. Sophie made her curtsey prettily enough but there was none of her usual vivacity and his lordship felt a pang of guilt at having robbed her of her accustomed sparkle and wondered at his reception when he should present him
self. Nonetheless, present himself he must, the matter could not be left as it stood. He must make an attempt at redemption; he could not bear that it should be otherwise.
Moving slowly through the throng toward his family, he waited until the group of admirers that had gathered around Regina and Sophie had lessened somewhat and he was able to stand at Sophie’s side without drawing his sister’s attention as she was otherwise engaged.
Dropping his voice so as not to be overheard, he leaned toward her and whispered earnestly, “I feared you would not come. I only came myself in hopes that I might see you. I could not leave matters how they stood between us.” Receiving no reply he continued to press his point, his eyes never leaving her averted countenance. “You must believe me when I say that the fault is entirely mine and I deeply regret it. Will you not allow me to make amends?”
Seeing Regina turn toward them he straightened and not wishing to be found out asked casually, “Will you allow me to procure some refreshment for you, my dear? The heat becomes insufferable,” and was gratified at the hesitant smile he received in return.
Realizing the need for caution, Sophie replied quietly, “Thank you, perhaps a glass of ratafia, if you please,” and immediately he went in search of the liquid. When he returned, the other family members had moved away and Sophie was left talking to one of the other debutantes present, but at his approach, she turned toward him and when he presented the glass to her he was rewarded with a very quiet, “Thank you, sir.”
“Such politeness, Jack,” he chided gently, attempting to lighten the situation. “I am more used to your commands. Come, could we not put our misunderstandings behind us and begin again. Let us forget that this afternoon ever existed. It was badly done on my part, the error was entirely mine and I cannot bear to lose our harmony, my Jack.”
“Nor I, Dominic, as for fault...” she would have said more save that at that precise moment someone took to the spinet which heralded an impromptu ball and the lackeys came in to remove the tables and chairs and roll back the carpet so that the room could be cleared for the dancing.
Dominic (Books We Love historical romance) Page 10
