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 wing-chairs 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