Sweeping a magnificent bow his lordship commanded, “Dance with me, rogue,” and laying aside her glass she placed her hand lightly on his arm to be led onto the floor to join other young couples as the first set of country- dances was announced.
*****
“Three dances in succession are quite enough,” Regina remonstrated as, their differences put aside, they came to the edge of the floor flushed and laughing after attempting the latest jig. “Tongues will wag if you dance together more. Indeed, there are those eyeing you askance already.”
“Kill joy,” snapped Vale. “Let them think what they will, Regina. I care not for their censure.”
“If not for yourself think of Sophie,” continued his sister. “You are beyond redemption but she is not and there are those asking for introductions.”
“Do you care for introductions, Jack?” he asked, turning to Sophie, but as she would have answered, Regina stamped her foot.
“Dominic, you are always everything that is hateful, you know Papa is forever mindful of the proprieties. He will allow no breath of scandal to attach itself to us.”
“Strange that such should bother him,” snapped Vale. “He cared not for proprieties in his youth.”
“Ah, but then I had none to injure but myself,” purred a soft voice behind him. “You on the other hand, Dominic, have a family, and it would not do to lay Sophie open to gossip. She is placed in our care; therefore I will not allow you to bring her to the attention of the scandal mongers. You may make what you will of your own actions, but beware her reputation.”
Vale spun round on his heel. “Forgive me, Father,” he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “I had not realized how worthy of note my actions are, how closely you feel it necessary to follow them.”
“Then it is time you realized it, and took more care. Your mother would allow you too much freedom; she is too lax with you. I, on the other hand, have an eye to the proprieties and will have them observed. Now make your bow and seek another partner. Sophie must not be seen to be monopolized and you will injure her reputation if you will insist on defying me.”
“As ever, your servant, sir,” mocked Vale. Making a short bow he turned to Sophie and briefly kissed her fingers before going in search of their hostess to make his adieu, he would not remain under his father’s censure.
Lady Buckmaster proved an elusive hostess and it was a short while before he was able to make his excuses. However, on his return to the main salon his eyes immediately sought Sophie. Once again the situation was to be left unresolved and it irked him beyond belief.
Seeing her at the further side of the salon he would have gone to bid his farewell but he was brought up short by the sight of Wroxham accepting a flower from her corsage and his jealousy flared. Had he but known it, Sophie bestowed the favor only in a desire to be rid of her would-be suitor who had begged her for a token and would not leave her side until she had complied, but he did not. Instead his temper made it such that he did not dare approach the pair and instead left the soiree in a very disagreeable mood. Casting himself into his coach, he commanded his driver to take him to Ridleys.
*****
Ridleys, which catered mainly for the younger members of the haute ton, appeared somewhat sparse of company; an unusual occurrence for so late in the evening, but even so, his lordship had no problem in finding like-minded acquaintances to make up a table. The night wore on into the early hours, a bottle of brandy, of which he frequently partook, continually sitting at his elbow.
Drummond and Fitzwilliam, entering the establishment some while later were drawn by the murmur of voices and came into the room which was devoid of players other than those who accompanied the earl.
“Vale takes all, I see,” said Drummond.
“Better that we should play elsewhere,” replied Fitzwilliam. “He looks in a hell of a mood, and three quarters drunk into the bargain. Best be avoided.”
The gentleman to the left of the earl, noticing the late arrivals, raised a hand in salute. “Come take a seat, Fitz, Drummond.” he called.
The earl looked up from his cards. “Is that you there, Fitz?” he queried. “If you have a mind to it, I’ve no objections. Fact is, would welcome some new blood. The game’s turned damned dull.”
Seeing the heap of gold and pledges lying on the baize in front of his lordship, Fitzwilliam shook his head. “I’m not playing tonight, Vale, not when you are so obviously in luck. What chance have I when the cards seem determined to run your way?”
Vale smiled wickedly. “I raise the stakes by a hundred gentlemen,” he said, throwing a pile of guineas into the center of the table. A stocky man, sitting at the end of the table growled, “You push the play too deep, my lord, the stakes are high enough.”
“If my play is not to your liking we will not miss your presence, March,” scorned the earl. In his cups he may be but he remained perfectly lucid, only a certain recklessness proclaiming his inebriation. “Drummond, you take his seat,” he commanded. “I can’t win forever. By the law of averages, I am bound to take a tumble eventually. Come, have some courage.”
“It’s too late to start with a new set now,” stated Drummond.
“Late?” queried his lordship. “‘Tis early. We have but just reached half after three.”
“Ah, but I head for Kennington at six, Vale.”
“What the deuce do you go to that God forsaken place for, and so early?”
“A prize fight, my friend, one that should not be missed. Toby matches Jim Tabbs.”
“A match definitely not to be missed,” enthused his lordship, sitting upright in his chair. “I have half a mind to go myself. Kennington you say?”
“Aye, three days hence. Damme, I mean day after tomorrow, I forget what day I am in.”
“Then I shall finish up here and follow in your wake. Thoughts of a prize fight certainly appeal. I shall not be far behind you. Be so good as to bespeak rooms for me and my man, I have no doubt the place will be crowded.”
“We intend making a week of it. Do you join us?” queried Fitzwilliam, taking snuff and dusting his fingers lightly. “There are to be other bouts spread over the days. Thought we may as well remain and perhaps get a few pointers. Toby is setting up a boxing school on his return, have half a mind to patronize it. What think you?”
“An excellent idea,” agreed Vale. “As for making a week of it, then certainly. London starts to bore me. I would find amusement elsewhere.”
Seeing his friends depart in preparation for the journey, Vale decided to follow their example and bringing the game to a quick and profitable end, he too departed for his rooms, commanding his curricle to be brought round at seven, reasoning that he could still be in Kennington by nightfall the following day. In this mood, he had not the desire or inclination to inform any members of his family that he was going out of town, confirmed that they would be only too relieved to learn of his absence, the effects of the brandy only adding weight to his conviction.
Taking only a small portmanteau with him, he left London by the north road. Thoughts of Sophie and Wroxham ever present in his mind to torment him, he drove at break-neck speed with his groom clinging precariously behind.
Chapter Thirteen
Reaching Kennington, despite the extreme lateness of the hour, such was the press of pedestrians and vehicles in the streets that his lordship was obliged to steady his team and slacken their pace considerably. The town appeared teeming with life and when he finally drew his vehicle up outside The Bull, a large inn situated on the main street, he was amazed at the number of phaetons, gigs and curricles present in its yard. Handing the reins over to his groom, he sprang lightly down and striding into the inn found it to be full to overflowing with sporting gentlemen. Peeling off his driving gloves he searched the throng for sight of Drummond or Fitzwilliam but failing to see either of them he strode over to the landlord demanding whether rooms had been secured on his behalf.
“I am afraid not sir,” said the landl
ord apologetically. “All the rooms have been bespoken several days in advance. However, Mr. Fitzwilliam has left a message for your lordship saying that he has managed to procure rooms at The Pheasant only two miles on the north road out of Kennington. He said he would be greatly obliged if you would join them there, sir.”
Vale thanked the landlord and returning to his curricle drove it out of the yard and back to the main coaching road which he followed until The Pheasant came into sight. It was a long, low, whitewashed building and its setting was much quieter than that of The Bull, although there still appeared to be a surfeit of vehicles in its yard. The ostlers came readily forward to take charge of the horses whilst Vale ordered his groom to supervise their care and then to bring his portmanteau into the inn.
The interior of the inn was not much less crowded than had been The Bull but his lordship had no difficulty in locating his friends who were sitting in the tap room with several other young sporting bloods, all eagerly discussing the possibilities of the projected match.
“Deuced glad you made it,” grinned Drummond, pressing a tankard of ale into Vale’s hand.
“You doubted it?” queried his lordship, drinking deeply to wash away the dust of the road from his parched throat.
“Well you were heavily in your cups when last I saw you, wondered whether you would still be of the same mind once you sobered.”
“Drunk or sober I am always of the same mind,” replied his lordship, holding his tankard aloft so that a serving girl could refill it. “My intellect is not as feeble as you would seem to believe it to be,” and he once more drank deeply, finding it difficult to quench his thirst.
“That is one thing you cannot be accused of,” stated Fitzwilliam clapping his hand on Vale’s shoulder. “Never known you to be anything other than slap up to the nines. It would have to be a knowing cove who could put one over on you.”
“I am gratified at your confidence in me,” replied Vale silkily. “Now tell me what time the match is tomorrow?”
“Noon, at Steeple’s Cross.”
“Good, then we have plenty of time to try our luck with the cards.”
“By Gad, do you never sleep, Vale?” asked Drummond amazed at his lordship’s fortitude.
The earl grinned, saying, “Only when absolutely necessary. Why waste the evening when we can be otherwise engaged? However I do have a need for food, so if you gentlemen will allow me, I will order my supper and then I will be with you directly.”
Once more, the play lasted well into the early hours and their existed a hardness about Vale’s countenance, but none dared ask its cause, both Drummond and Fitzwilliam deeming it prudent to make no remark. Once again, the brandy stood at his elbow.
*****
Rising shortly after ten the next morning, his lordship made his leisurely way down to the coffee-room to join his friends over a hearty breakfast. Nothing but the slight frown that creased his brow at any sudden noise proclaimed any consequence from the previous night’s excesses and he appeared full of enthusiasm for the projected outing.
“I have sent my man to procure a ringside place,” informed Fitzwilliam. “The spectators will have started to arrive early and it would not do that we should be forced to the rear. We need but take one vehicle; that will suffice.”
“An excellent idea,” approved Vale, attacking his plate of steak and eggs which he washed down with a foaming tankard of ale. “All bodes well for a good match. The last time I saw Toby and Tabbs fight it lasted a full thirty rounds, over sixty minutes without either being the outright victor. It’s rumored that both have achieved peak fitness, therefore today will prove the test.”
“I’ve heard tell you strip to an advantage,” said Fitzwilliam.
“I like to spar,” admitted Vale, calling for his tankard to be refilled.
“I would not advise you put him to the test,” stated Drummond. “He has the devil’s own left, and I should know. I’ve felt it on several occasions. A real prime ‘un in a mill. You would be a fool to go up against him.”
Ignoring his friends warning, Fitzwilliam offered, “I’ll spar with you, Vale, if you have a mind to it, I always enjoy a good turn-up.”
Thoughts of a bout certainly appealed to the earl and he grinned, saying, “I accept. Though I must warn you, ‘tis some months since I had an outing and am somewhat out of trim. However, I too am not averse to a match.”
“Then it shall be arranged,” enthused Fitzwilliam. “Now, if you have finished that disgustingly robust meal, we had better remove ourselves to the Cross. It would not do that we should be late and miss the contenders arriving.”
*****
At much the same time as the friends arrived at the ringside for the projected bout, Sophie was receiving Lord Wroxham at Blake House.
“Have you seen Dominic?” were the first words that crossed her lips as his lordship was issued into her presence.
The welcoming smile on Wroxham’s lips faded somewhat as he advanced into the room. “Strap me, but must you always find it so necessary to be harping back to him?” he complained. “It makes one feel deuced de trop.”
“I do apologize, John,” she said, smiling briefly and indicating that he should be seated. “It certainly is not my intention, but I thought I may have heard from him and I have not.”
“Disappeared off the face of the earth, m’dear,” replied Wroxham, showing not the slightest interest in my lord’s whereabouts. “Last I heard he was at Ridleys and drinking heavily, which could mean anything with Vale. Who knows where he may have got to, could have gone off on one of his mad starts, who can tell? You know how unpredictable he can be.” Seeing the dejected look that flitted across Sophie’s countenance he relented. “Thought I might persuade you and Regina to walk out with me. It is reported that they have received a new batch of books at Hohokam’s Library and I thought you might find something there that would interest you. It is said that they have the new novel by Mrs. Carlisle and it is set to be the rage.”
Thankful for this diversion, Sophie sent the footman in search of Regina and attempted to dampen her disquiet. After all, she reasoned to herself, she could not expect Vale to be forever dancing attendance on her, but she so desperately wanted to see him. Endeavoring to convince herself that just sight of him would be sufficient, she excused herself from Wroxham’s presence to change into her walking dress and boots. Perhaps she would see him about the town.
Left alone, Wroxham rose to stand before the window, hands held behind his back. He could not believe his luck and it occurred to him that this could be his chance to take advantage of his friend’s absence. Away from Vale’s influence, Sophie might be induced to look more favorably on his own suit. He would contend with Vale’s presence when once he condescended to make his reappearance, and perhaps, by then, it may be too late. Here was his chance to attach Sophie’s affections before his friend should return. To this end, he determined to make himself as agreeable as possible, recklessly ignoring the fact that he would be serving his lordship a backhanded turn and would be laying himself open to his retribution.
*****
As the morning progressed and the young ladies found it necessary to visit not only the library but also a milliner’s, a draper’s and a delightful little shop that sold reticules, Wroxham found his resolve being hard worn. Not only did the fact that he was expected to carry all the packages irk him, but he was also quite shocked when commanded to comment upon the suitability of certain pistols in a gunsmith’s window.
“My dear Sophie, of what possible interest could pistols be to you? You are hardly likely to come into contact with one. Indeed it is not at all seemly that you should enquire of their ramifications. Most unladylike.”
Taken aback by his censure, Sophie thought it prudent to remain silent—how she longed for her tutor; he would not have criticized her so. The thought of his absence once more depressed her and she wondered why he had not told her of his going.
*****
Vale
fared no better. No sooner had the excitement of the match, of which Tabbs emerged victor, started to abate than his mind was wont to wander to other matters. Even his companions noticed a change in his mood as they met over supper before venturing abroad to see what diversions Kennington had to offer.
“Deuced quiet aren’t you, Vale?” enquired Drummond, attacking the duck with great zeal.
“I was but pondering a matter I have left unresolved,” replied his lordship, watching Drummond’s enthusiasm for his meal with some distaste. “I have half a mind to return to conclude it.”
“I lay you odds it’s a petticoat,” laughed Fitzwilliam. “Nothing else would leave you looking so decidedly out of frame. Confess now Vale; you have found a new light-of-love. Come, tell us, is it The Incomparable? I have heard of her beauty but never witnessed it.”
“Far be it from me to shatter your illusions,” drawled his lordship, “but I am in no light-o-love’s toils. I have a pupil...”
“You? A pupil?” scoffed Drummond. “I have not heard of you taking on the role of tutor and having a pupil.”
“Ah, but then you see I have. It would appear that you do not know everything, my friend. I do indeed have a pupil and I have been remiss in my attentions.”
“But could not your pupil wait?” asked Fitzwilliam eyeing his lordship closely, puzzled at this new persona he would present. “Surely no lesson is so important that you needs hurry away. I thought you enjoyed the sport?”
“Aye, you have the rights of it, Fitz,” agreed his lordship wishing to divert from the subject. “Come, we but waste time, let us away to Kennington.”
Dominic (Books We Love historical romance) Page 11
