The Lady Gambles

by Carole Mortimer

  He straightened, the expression in his eyes now hidden behind hooded lids. ‘I meant only to demonstrate how exposing yourself on a stage night after night has left you open to physical as well as verbal abuse.’

  ‘You are being ridiculous,’ she dismissed briskly. ‘Neither am I a complete ninny. It was for the very reason of protecting my reputation that I donned the mask and wig at Nick’s. Indeed, I doubt that anyone would ever recognise the woman I am now as the masked and ebony-haired woman who sings in a gambling club each evening.’

  There was some truth in that; Dominic had barely recognised Caro himself when she had joined him earlier. Even so… ‘The fact that you are masked, and your own blonde curls hidden beneath those false ebony tresses, would, I am afraid, only protect your identity as far as the bedroom.’

  Her throat moved convulsively as she continued to look up at him proudly. ‘My…identity?’

  Dominic gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Your voice and manner proclaim you as being a lady—’

  ‘Or a disgraced lady’s maid,’ she put in quickly.

  ‘Perhaps,’ Dominic allowed tersely. ‘I have no idea what your reasons are for taking the action you have—and I doubt you are about to enlighten me, are you?’

  Her mouth firmed. ‘No.’

  ‘As I thought.’ He gave an abrupt nod. ‘Of course, the simplest answer to this predicament would be for me to simply terminate your employment. At least then I would not feel honour bound to take responsibility for your welfare.’

  She gave an inelegant snort. ‘That would only solve the problem for you, my lord; I would still need to find the means with which to earn my own living.’

  She was right, Dominic allowed sourly. But there was another alternative… He could offer to become her protector himself—his enjoyment of their kiss earlier proved that his senses, at least, were not averse to the idea. And no doubt, with a little coaching as to his physical preferences, Caro would be more than capable of satisfying his needs.

  But in the ten years since Dominic had first appeared in town he had never once taken a permanent mistress, as many of his male acquaintances chose to do, preferring instead to take his pleasures whenever and with what women he pleased. He had no wish to change that arrangement by making the spirited and outspoken Caro Morton his mistress.

  ‘Of course, if you were to decide to terminate my employment then you would leave me with no choice but to seek the same position elsewhere.’ She shrugged those slender shoulders. ‘Something that should not prove too difficult now that the masked lady has, as you say, gained something of a…male following,’ she added.

  It was a solution, of course. Except at Nick’s, whether the chit was aware of it or not, Caro at least had the protection of the attentive Drew and Ben. And, apparently, now Dominic himself. ‘If it is only question of money—’

  ‘And if it were?’ Caro had immediately bristled haughtily.

  His mouth thinned. ‘In those circumstances I might perhaps see my way clear to advancing you sufficient funds to take you back to wherever it is you originate from.’

  ‘No!’ Those sea-green eyes sparkled up at him rebelliously. ‘I have no intention of leaving London yet.’

  Dominic was unsure as to whether Caro’s vehemence was due to his offer to advance her money, or his suggestion that she use that money to take herself home, so he decided to probe further. ‘Is the situation at home so intolerable, then?’

  She attempted to repress a shudder and failed. ‘At present, yes.’

  Dominic studied her through narrowed lids, noting the shadows that had appeared in those sea-green eyes, and the pallor of her cheeks. ‘That remark would seem to imply that the situation may change some time in the future?’

  ‘It is to be hoped so, yes,’ she confirmed with feeling.

  ‘But until it does, it is your intention to remain in London, whether or not I continue to employ you at Nick’s?’

  Her mouth set firmly. ‘It is.’

  ‘You are very stubborn, madam.’

  ‘I am decisive, sir, which is completely different.’

  Dominic sighed heavily, not wishing to send Caro back to a situation she obviously found so unpleasant, but also well able to imagine the scrapes this reckless young woman would get herself into, if she were once again let loose to roam the streets of London seeking employment. ‘Then I believe, for the moment, we must leave things as they are.’ He looked away. ‘Shall we continue to walk to your lodgings?’

  Caro shot him a triumphant glance. ‘We have been standing outside them for some minutes, my lord!’

  Dominic gave her an irritated scowl before glancing at the house behind them. It was a three-storied building so typical of an area that had once been fashionable, but which was no longer so, and as such had fallen into genteel decay. Although the owner of this particular lodging had at least attempted to keep up a veneer of respectability, the outside being neat and cared for, and the curtains at the windows also appearing clean.

  He turned back to Caro. ‘In that case it remains only for me to bid you goodnight.’

  She gave an abrupt curtsy. ‘My lord.’

  ‘Miss Morton.’ He nodded curtly.

  Caro gazed up at Dominic quizzically as he made no move to depart for his waiting carriage. ‘There is no need for you to wait to leave until you are assured I have entered the house, my lord.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘In the same way you were in “absolutely no danger” earlier on?’

  Her cheeks coloured prettily. ‘I find your manner extremely vexing, my lord!’

  ‘No more so than I do your own, I assure you, Miss Morton.’

  Caro had never before met anyone remotely like Dominic Vaughn. Had never dreamed that men like him existed, so tall and fashionably handsome, so aristocratic. So arrogantly sure of themselves!

  Admittedly her contact with male acquaintances had been severely limited before she came to London, usually only consisting of the few sons of the local gentry, and occasionally her father’s lawyer when he came from London to discuss business matters.

  Even so, Caro knew from Drew Butler’s respectful attitude towards the earl earlier this evening, and the hasty departure of those three young gentlemen just minutes ago, that Dominic Vaughn was a man whose very presence demanded respect and obedience.

  Except, after years of having no choice but to do as she was told, Caro no longer wished to obey any man. Not least of all the guardian she had so recently acquired…

  She flashed the earl a bright meaningless smile before turning to walk to the front door of her lodgings, not even glancing back to see if he still watched as she quietly let herself inside with the key the landlady had provided for Caro’s personal use when she had taken the rooms two weeks ago.

  She waited several heartbeats before daring to look out through the lace-covered window beside the front door. Just in time to see the earl climbing inside his carriage before the groom closed the door behind him and hopped neatly on to the back of the vehicle as it was driven away.

  But before it did so Caro saw the pale oval of Dominic Vaughn’s grimly set face at the carriage window as he glanced towards where she stood hidden. She moved away quickly to lean back against the wall, her hands clutched against her rapidly beating heart.

  No, being kissed by the Earl of Blackstone had been nothing at all as she imagined a kiss would be.

  It had been far, far more exciting…

  ‘So, where did you get to last night, Dom?’ Nathaniel Thorne, Earl of Osbourne, prompted lazily the following evening, the two men lounging in opposite wingchairs beside the fireplace in one of the larger rooms at White’s.

  ‘I was…unavoidably detained.’ Dominic evaded answering his friend’s query directly. The two men had arranged to meet late the previous evening, an appointment Dominic obviously had not kept as he had instead been occupied with seeing Caro Morton safely delivered back to her lodgings. For all the thanks he had received for his trouble!
/>   Nathaniel raised a blond brow. ‘I trust she was as insatiable as she was beautiful?’

  ‘Beautiful—yes. Insatiable? I have no idea.’ In truth, hours later, Dominic still had no idea what to make of Caro Morton, of who and what she was. He had taken the trouble, however, to send word to Drew Butler to continue feeding her, as well as arranging for Ben Jackson to escort her home at the end of each night’s work; Caro might have no care for her own welfare, but whilst she continued working for Dominic, he had every intention of ensuring that no harm befell her.

  ‘Yet,’ Nathaniel drawled knowingly.

  Both of Dominic’s parents had died years ago, and he had no siblings, either, making Nathaniel Thorne and Gabriel Faulkner the closest thing he had to a family; the years they had all spent at school together, and then in the army, never knowing whether they would survive the next battle, had made them as close as brothers. Even so, Dominic could have wished at that moment that Nathaniel did not know him quite as well as he did.

  Thankfully he had the perfect diversion from his lack of appearance the night before. ‘I received a note from Gabriel today. He expects to arrive in England by the end of the week.’ He lifted his glass of brandy and took an appreciative sip.

  ‘I received one, too,’ Nathaniel revealed. ‘Can you imagine the looks on the faces of the ton when Gabe makes his entrance back into society?’

  ‘He reaffirmed it was his intention to first go to Shoreley Park and confront the Copeland sisters,’ Dominic reminded him.

  Osbourne snorted. ‘We both know that will only take two minutes of his time. By the time Gabriel returns to town, past scandal or not, I have no doubt that all three of the silly chits will be clamouring to marry him!’ Nathaniel made a silent toast of appreciation to their absent friend.

  It was a fact that Gabriel’s years of banishment to the Continent and the army had in no way affected his conquests in the bedchamber; one look at that raven-black hair, those dark indigo eyes and his firmly muscled physique, and women of all ages simply dropped at Gabriel’s feet. Or, more accurately, into his bed! No doubt the Copeland sisters would find themselves equally as smitten.

  ‘What shall we do with the rest of the night?’ After the dissatisfaction he had felt at the end of the previous evening, Dominic knew himself to be in the mood to drink too much before falling into bed with a woman who was as inventive as she was willing.

  Nathaniel eyed him speculatively. ‘I have heard that there is a mysterious beauty currently performing at Nick’s…’

  As close as the three men were, Dominic knew that some things were best kept to oneself—and his meeting with Caro Morton the previous night, his uncharacteristic, unfathomable sense of protectiveness where she was concerned, was certainly one of them! Although Dominic could not say that he was at all pleased that she was already so great a source of gossip at the gentlemen’s clubs after only a week of appearing at his.

  He grimaced. ‘I believe the only reason she is considered such a mystery is because she wears a jewelled mask whilst performing.’

  ‘Oh.’ The other man’s mouth turned down. ‘No doubt to hide the fact that she’s scarred from the pox.’

  ‘Possibly,’ Dominic dismissed in a bored voice, having no intention of saying anything that would increase his friend’s curiosity where Caro was concerned.

  Nate sighed. ‘In which case, I believe I will leave the choice of tonight’s entertainment to you.’

  That choice involved visiting several gambling clubs before ending the evening at the brightly lit but nevertheless discreet house where several beautiful and accomplished ladies of the demi-monde made it only too obvious they would be pleased to offer amusement and companionship to two such handsome young gentlemen.

  So it was all the more surprising when those same two gentlemen took their leave only an hour or so later, neither having taken advantage of that willingness. ‘Perhaps we should have gone to view the mysterious beauty at Nick’s, after all.’ Osbourne repressed a bored yawn. ‘Scarred from the pox or not, I doubt I could find her any less appealing than the ladies we have just wasted our time with!’

  Dominic frowned, knowing that to demur a second time would definitely incur Nate’s curiosity. ‘Perhaps we are becoming too jaded in our tastes, Nate?’ he murmured drily as he tapped on the roof of the carriage and gave his driver fresh instructions.

  The other man raised a questioning brow. ‘Do you ever miss the excitement of our five years in the army?’

  Did Dominic miss the horror and the bloodshed of war? The never knowing whether he would survive the next battle or if it was his turn to meet death at the end of a French sword? The comradeship with his fellow officers that arose from experiencing that very danger? He missed it like the very devil!

  ‘Not to the point of wanting to renew my commission, no. You?’

  Osbourne shrugged. ‘It is a fact that civilian life can be tedious as well as damned repetitious.’

  Dominic felt relieved to know that he was not the only one to miss those years of feeling as if one walked constantly on the knife edge of danger. ‘I am told that participating in a London Season often resembles a battlefield,’ he mused.

  ‘Do not even mention the Season to me,’ the other man groaned. ‘My Aunt Gertrude has taken it into her head that it is high time I took myself a wife,’ he explained at Dominic’s questioning look. ‘As such she is insisting that I escort her to several balls and soirées during the next few weeks. No doubt with the expectation of finding a young woman she believes will make me a suitable Countess.’

  ‘Ah.’ Dominic began to understand his friend’s restlessness this evening; Mrs Gertrude Wilson was Osbourne’s closest relative, and one, moreover, of whom he was extremely fond. She reciprocated by taking a great interest in her nephew’s life. To the point, it seemed, that she was now attempting to find him a wife. Reason enough for Dominic to be grateful for his own lack of female relations! ‘I take it that you are not in agreement with her wishes?’

  ‘In agreement with the idea of shackling myself for life to some mealy-mouthed chit who has no doubt been taught to lie back and think of king and country when we are in bed together? Certainly not!’ Osbourne barely suppressed his shiver of revulsion. ‘I cannot think what Gabriel is about even contemplating such a fate.’

  It was a fact that all three gentlemen would one day have to take a wife and produce the necessary heir to their respective earldoms. Fortunately, it seemed that Osbourne, at least, was as averse to accepting that fate as Dominic was. Although there was no doubting that Mrs Gertrude Wilson was a force to be reckoned with!

  Dominic’s humour at his friend’s situation faded, his mouth tightening in disapproval, as the two gentlemen stepped down from his carriage minutes later and he saw that Ben Jackson was once again absent from his position at the entrance to Nick’s; obviously they had arrived in time for Nathaniel to witness Caro Morton’s second performance of the evening.

  However, the sound of shouting, breaking glass and the crashing of furniture coming from the direction of the main gaming room as they stepped into the spacious hallway of the club in no way resembled the awed silence Dominic had experienced on his arrival the previous evening.

  Especially when it was accompanied by the sound of a woman’s screams!

  Chapter Three

  Caro had never been as frightened in her life as she was at that moment. Even with Ben and two other men standing protectively in front of her, and keeping the worst of the fighting at bay, it was still possible for her to see men’s fists flying, the blood freely flowing from noses and cut faces as chairs, tables and bottles were also brought into play.

  In truth, she had no idea how the fighting had even begun. One moment she had been singing as usual, and the next a gentleman had tried to step on to the stage and grab hold of her. At first Caro had believed the second gentleman to step forwards was attempting to come to her aid, until he pushed the first man aside and also lunged towards wher
e she had half-risen from the chaise in alarm.

  After that all bedlam had broken loose, it seemed, with a dozen or more men fighting off the first two with fists and any item of furniture that came readily to hand.

  And through it all, every terrifying moment of it, Caro had been humiliatingly aware of Lord Dominic Vaughn’s dire warnings of the night before…

  ‘Care to join in?’ Osbourne invited with glee as the two men stood in the doorway of the gaming room still hatted and cloaked.

  Dominic’s narrowed gaze had taken stock of the situation at a glance. Thirty or so gentlemen fighting in earnest. Several of the brocade-covered chairs broken. Tables overturned, and shattered glasses and bottles crunching underfoot. Drew Butler was caught in the middle of it all as he tried to call a halt to the fighting. And on the raised stage, Ben Jackson stood immovable in front of where a head of ebony curls was just visible above and behind the chaise.

  ‘Head towards the stage,’ Dominic directed Osbourne grimly as he threw his hat aside. ‘If we can get the girl out of here, I believe the fighting will come to an end.’

  ‘I sincerely hope it does not!’ Nathaniel grinned roguishly as he stepped purposefully into the mêlée.

  Most of the gentlemen fighting seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as Osbourne, despite having bloody noses, the occasional lost tooth and several eyes that would no doubt be black come morning. It was the three or four gentlemen closest to Ben Jackson, and their dogged determination to lay hands on Caro as she crouched down behind the chaise, that concerned Dominic the most. Although to give Ben his due, he had so far managed to keep them all at arm’s length, and even managed to shoot Dominic and Osbourne an appreciative grin as they stepped up beside him.

  At which point Caro Morton emerged from behind the chaise and launched herself into his arms. ‘Thank goodness you are come, Dominic!’