A frown creased her brow. “The Dankworths, yes. The feud started with a stupid boundary dispute centuries ago. At least, that’s what I was always told. Then, after the death of the last Stuart monarch, something mysterious happened.”
He lifted a brow.
“I don’t know what it was!” she said, with more than a touch of exasperation. “I’m a woman. They don’t tell me delicate matters, and this one seems to have been hushed up. The Dankworths went abroad in support of the Stuarts, and my family took the opposing camp. Ever since, society assumes our main disputes are political.” She shook her head. “Sometimes it seems to get very personal.”
She glanced up, into his eyes. The jolt of blue fascinated him. Nothing could prepare him for that candid regard.
“I see.” He spread his hands. “Did you notice anyone downstairs? In particular, I mean?”
She bit her lower lip and frowned. “A fat man with two women dancing attendance on him kept staring at me.”
“God in heaven, give me strength! Don’t you know who that was?” After what she’d told him, surely she knew?
She shook her head.
“Your brothers are right. They should not have allowed you out of the house without an escort. That, my dear, is your family’s avowed enemy. Charles Edward Stuart, otherwise known as the Young Pretender. He prefers people to address him as ‘Your Highness.’”
Claudia heard his words in a state of dull acceptance. Of course it was. What else could go wrong with her inheritance? Perhaps she’d discover that they sold smuggled goods here, too. Or counterfeit coins, or something else equally disreputable. “Why would I know him? The pictures of him show a slim, handsome man, beautifully dressed.”
“After the ’forty-five he turned to drink,” Lord St. Just said. “And women. He has a regular mistress, and he beats her. He has not yet married. Some of us believe it’s because he has not given up hope of the throne. In that case, he will marry a princess. Perhaps one of the King’s daughters or grandchildren to unite the two branches of the houses.”
“Who are you discussing when you say, ‘us’?” She picked that out of his words as worth further information. Clubs and secret societies abounded, and he might be with one of those. “What are you doing here in any case? Did you follow me?”
He spoke so quietly she could hardly hear him. Was it to make her move closer? Stubbornly, she planted her feet to the floor.
“To answer both of your questions, when I was in the army, I rendered some few services to the intelligence unit. Therefore I have some experience in the field, and my superior officer requested that I visit someone in Horse Guards.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I am working for the British government. I am only to follow Stuart. That’s why I’m here tonight. I was watching. I only came in when I saw you. I wanted to know where he was so I could take him quietly. Some factions would prefer that he be arrested and brought to trial for treason. Others wish him to leave, so they can forget him.”
“Yet others want him to be king,” she said quietly. That was the part she was familiar with. “What does this house have to do with it, apart from having him in it?”
Instead of answering her directly, he said, “Pick up your wine and hold it to the candle.”
Suspicious of his meaning, she nevertheless did as he asked and held up the glass. It was engraved, as many were, but she hadn’t explored it properly. Now she did.
The design was of a thistle and a rose twined together, with a crown over the whole, blatantly a Jacobite drinking glass. Some of his supporters had a bowl of water to hand. They’d pass the glass over it before drinking to symbolize the king over the water.
If this house had these glasses, had they bought them to please their new customer, or was it a known house? “This is a traitor house?” Distastefully, she put the glass down as if it held poison. “The wine is sour. That seems appropriate.”
“Yes, it’s a traitor house. They call themselves loyalists, so take care what you say here.” He stepped closer.
Claudia clutched the folds of her skirt, ready for another onslaught. She could not resist him. He could do whatever he wanted to her. For the first time she wanted someone safe with her, instead of chafing at the bit to get away.
This powerful man presented a potential danger to her. She’d never resist him if he pressed her to give him more than a kiss.
When he laid a finger over his lips, she nodded and swallowed. Now she stood away from him, she could see him properly.
This man appeared more like the man in the park than the one at the draper’s. He wore his own dark hair tightly tied back. His hat, which had tumbled off his head in their previous bout of passion, was undecorated. He wore no rings, had no embellishments at all on his person. His clothes were sober and respectable but not made of expensive material. Fancy lace didn’t decorate the sleeves, only a small ruffle of linen.
He’d been a soldier, and not in an ornamental regiment, and now he looked every inch the man of action. This man understood danger, had probably seen death, and she was more than half afraid of him.
“Don’t raise your voice,” he murmured, his tone far too intimate. “In this house, no room is safe, not even the ones with closed doors.”
Taking her hand, he led her to the other side of the small space, to a spot by the begrimed window. “Please, don’t fear me, ever. I will never offer you violence. I swear it.”
She believed him. “I was startled because you look so different.”
He gave that lazy half smile that remained a constant, however he looked. “I’m the same person.”
“Is this who you are? Not the man of fashion?”
“I am both,” he said. “I find great amusement in my other appearance, but I have to confess to you that I allow my valet to select most of my clothes. I begin, and then I grow bored.”
He touched her chin, so softly she hardly registered it.
“I wanted to retire completely from the service, but I had the skills and they knew where to find me. Once I have done with the task, that life is over for me. My parents are aging and they worry about me. I left the army for them, and I will leave this, too.”
No one showing that degree of consideration to his parents could be as severe as this man appeared. Moreover, he kissed like an angel. Or a devil. Already tingles rose up her arms, in the secret places of her body and he drew her so that she found herself leaning in to him. “What do we do now?”
“We leave,” he said simply. “I’ll continue this another time. I know where he goes now, and I am learning more than we imagined about his habits. He’s visited London before, you know.”
“In fifty-one.” It was supposed to be clandestine, but word had got out.
“And after. He’s made quite a habit of it.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “How does he get away with it?”
He smiled, and then bent and kissed her, so swiftly she had no way of stopping him, even if he had wanted to.
“I’m sorry. Don’t look at me that way,” he murmured against her lips.
She smiled, her mouth caressing his. “Why not?”
“Because it makes you irresistible. You are adorable like that.”
She bridled. “Like a kitten?”
“Exactly like,” he said, unabashed. “Not at all like the wild Lady Claudia Shaw”
“People condemn where they don’t know. If I have done something slightly wrong, they exaggerate.”
Leaning forward, he placed his hand on the wall behind her head. “They wouldn’t have to exaggerate this escapade. What were you thinking?” He frowned. “How did you do it?”
“I went to the pleasure gardens, and then I told my brother I was joining my mother at Lady Colm’s.”
He rolled his eyes. “You run rings around them all.”
Before she could think of her actions, she reached out and grabbed his arm. She couldn’t get her hand half way around it, but she didn’t let that give her pause. “Y
ou won’t tell them, will you?”
After regarding her for a fraught moment in silence, he said, “I have to. Because you’re here, in this house, at the same time as he is. The Pretender.”
His words brushed her face, like an invisible caress. She arched up without conscious volition. “Kiss me again.” She could think of nothing else when he was this close.
With a groan of surrender, he complied, but he did not embrace her as he had before. He kept one hand propped above her head and the other at her side, caging her in delicious captivity. This time he kept his kiss tender, and when she opened her mouth for him, he barely dipped his tongue inside, delicately teasing her.
Eagerly, she chased him with her own tongue and found him waiting for her. Dominic sucked gently, as she touched the tip of her tongue to the roof of his mouth. Then she nuzzled his teeth, sharp and predatory. He did not scare her. He aroused her.
He was far more dangerous like this, tempting her to explore and discover for herself what these wonders were like. Oh, she’d been kissed before, but never with such care, such attention, as if she were the only woman in the world.
That was it. He made her feel special. As if she really mattered. At home she was loved but as one of a family of six, not as a whole, for herself. As a twin, one of a pair. Society loved them for that, but she did not. She wanted to be herself.
She opened her eyes. He was watching her, his dark, stormy eyes fixed hungrily on her features. The contact sent a new sense of awareness through her, and she moved back, although she had nowhere to go. Her back rested against the wall behind her, and as she stared at him, the chilly damp of the plaster seeped through her clothes. “I should go,” she said.
“I will take you.”
Turning her head, she glanced out the window and turned back to him in alarm. “My chair, it’s gone!”
“I sent them away. We’ll get a hackney,” he said. “You may say you were taken ill and you never went into Lady Colm’s.”
She nodded. “I want more kisses.”
With a sudden powerful push, he moved away from her. “Then you’ll have to want. You’ll get no more here.” He spoke in firm, loud tones now. “Come. I’ll pay the madam and we’ll move on.”
His sultry smile reminded her of the part she was playing here. Claudia should feel dirty, but the notion excited her, sent passion burning deep inside her.
“You like the idea, don’t you?”
She put up her chin and shook out her skirts. “What idea?”
“Customer and whore.”
The words sent a shaft of heat to her center, that spot between her legs that dampened when arousal struck her. She should deny it, be indignant and protest that she didn’t know what he meant. Maybe flounce to make her point.
She did none of these things, but stared back, meeting his eyes boldly. “Yes.”
Silence ticked between them until he smiled lazily.
“Good,” he said. “Lovers play games, do they not?”
“We’re not lovers.”
“We are nearly lovers.”
She couldn’t deny that. Nearly was very different to actuality. The idea of lying in that bed with him, completely naked, turned her insides to fire, but she would not let him know. He had that admission, and that was all he was getting.
“The idea is amusing, you must admit.”
To her relief he played the game. “Very amusing. Madam, shall we go?”
When he stepped forward, she lifted her face, already prepared of his kiss, but he merely bent and swept the mask up from the floor.
“Turn around.”
When she obeyed, he fastened the ties deftly. Then he pulled her cloak back around her and tugged her hood back over her head. He caught a lock of hair, sending a shot of pain through her. When she lifted her hand to free the curl, she found him there. “You should ensure your maid covers all your hair next time. That color is singular.”
“My sister has the same. Our father used to, before he turned grey. My cousins on his side of the family have it.” She didn’t like to think she was so easily identified.
“It’s yours alone,” he murmured, tucking the offending curl into her hood. “There. Keep your head down and we’ll scrape through this.”
Her adventure was ending and she regretted it. “This is still my house.”
“That is what concerns me.”
He opened the door for her and took her downstairs. After handing the landlady the extortionate sum of a guinea—it would hire a room for a year if this house was not engaged in nefarious activities—they were allowed to leave.
Outside, he threw back his head and took some deep breaths, as if the very atmosphere in the house were tainted. It did stink of wine, tobacco, and other smells but she’d known worse. Pigsties, for instance, if they were not cleared out.
“Do you want to close this house?” she said. If he did that, maybe she could have it renovated. People of fashion lived around here. Cheek by jowl with less reputable houses, to be sure, but it could be achieved.
He glanced down at her. “Not immediately. Pretend we are lady of the night and her man for the next hour. We’ll draw less attention that way, and you may escape notice.”
He drew her to his side by curving his hand around her waist. She didn’t resist. She felt safer with him this close, anyway, and it worked as their disguise of whore and client. She rested her head on his shoulder. He must be six inches or even more taller than she was, so his shoulder was at a convenient level for her. Very convenient.
His chuckle vibrated her body pleasantly, rousing her senses.
“If the house remains open, I know where to find him. He has regular places he likes to visit. I was unaware of this one until tonight, although it does not try to hide itself. Those glasses are not easily concealed. Other subterfuges are more clandestine and easily denied. It speaks of overconfidence, or…something else.”
She glanced at him. He was frowning. Just then they walked into the brighter light of the Piazza and his features became better delineated.
She liked his face like this, without that society frivolity and lazy droop of his eyelids. Alert and strong, the lines carved with care by some celestial builder, this man appealed to her.
“Do nothing,” he said. “I’ll visit you tomorrow. Will your family be in?”
“I do not know.”
“I’ll send a message and ensure I can obtain an interview.”
Alarm streaked through her. She liked him, she was attracted to him, but that sounded far too much like he wanted to pay his addresses. She’d only met him twice! “What kind of interview?”
His glance at her face held amusement but also tenderness. “To discuss this situation. Not me and you—we’ll brush through this if you do not make a habit of running off to brothels—but the house and its contents. Your involvement in the affair.”
Affair. That word meant more than politics, threats to the Crown. She could see the knowledge in his eyes. He meant it.
He had kissed her like he meant it, after all.
“You mean that I own the property. My great aunt left it to me and she hadn’t visited London in years. I just wanted to see it.” She sighed. “I want somewhere of my own, a place I can close the door and know that nobody will come in. I love my family, of course I do, but just once—”
“If you keep sighing like that your bodice will give way,” he said. “While I would much appreciate another view of your lovely body, I don’t think this is quite the place.”
Aware she’d pushed her bodice down as far as she dared and consequently was not as securely laced in as usual, she drew her cloak closer around her. “You’ve seen that already.”
“I have. Only a taste. I want more, Claudia. You’re a respectable woman, so I’m going to have to wait.”
He gave her such a look of deep melancholy that she burst out laughing, her embarrassment forgotten. At the time, embarrassment had been the last thing on her mind, but now, broug
ht back to a sense of reality, it could have suffused her. It should have, except he was right.
She wanted more, too.
Chapter 5
Aware of her family’s exaggerated need to protect her and the other women, Claudia refused to go out with her mother the next morning, pleading a stomachache. She’d used the same excuse the night before, when she’d arrived home on her own. Dominic had left her at the end of the square until she knocked and went in. He made her feel safe, but that could be an entirely false premise.
When he arrived, he was in full society mode. Blue today, not a dark shade, but a vivid ultramarine tone. His breeches were as white as snow and his waistcoat embroidered in gold. She was too far away to see the design. As he handed his hat and the ridiculous cane as tall as he was to the footman, bright gold caught the sun and dazzled her.
When she blinked the light out of her eyes, he was looking up at her. She must have made a sudden move and alerted his attention. No point hiding now.
Claudia hurried down the stairs, trailing her hand lightly on the banister. “Did you think to find me away from home?” she said brightly. “Strange how insistent my mother was that I attend her this morning. That was just after my father let slip that you were visiting to discuss the house on Hart Street. I suspect my brother asked her to ensure I was out of the way.” She smiled saucily. “Well, as you can see, I am not.”
“You’re appearing to great advantage,” he said.
He didn’t mean her clothes. She could tell by the way he looked over her, taking in her bosom, today respectably covered with a linen fichu. He’d seen it uncovered, or part of it at any rate. The knowledge made her heat up.
“I love that blush,” he murmured.
She turned away, employing her fan to cool her complexion. She thought she’d controlled her reprehensible habit of blushing at the least provocation. The easy capacity to blush came with her coloring and that damned pale skin. “We should go to the study. They’re all waiting.”
She led the way but refused to take his arm.
The study was rather crowded, containing as it did, not only her oldest brother Marcus, Lord Malton, but her father, Val, and Darius. None of them were smiling.
Reckless in Pink Page 5
