Janice Preston - Daring To Love The Duke's Heir

Redbridge had no qualms in admitting he had recognised at least two of the names on that sheet of paper and proceeded to not only tease Dominic about its existence, but also badger him about the other names.

‘There must have been half a dozen on there at least, Avon.’ His eyes were alive with curiosity. ‘You can tell me, you know. Soul of discretion and all that. It’d do you good to talk about it. Alex is always sayin’ you’re too buttoned up for your own good.’

Dominic knocked back what remained of his wine and stood up. ‘Your imagination is running amok, as usual, Redbridge. Now, if you will excuse me...?’

Redbridge didn’t take the hint. He stood, too, and exited the coffee room by Dominic’s side. ‘Are you thinking of getting leg-shackled then? Oh, my life—the ladies will be in a flutter! There’ll be neither time nor attention for the rest of us poor sods once the word gets out...it’ll all be about Lord Avon and his list!’

He nudged Dominic with a sharp elbow and grinned hugely. Dominic stifled the urge to grab his neckcloth and slowly choke the wretch. Instead, he halted and turned to face his companion. They were close to the front door of the club by now and Dominic was damned if he’d put up with the man’s inane chatter all the way to his front door.

‘I’ll bid you good afternoon here, Redbridge. And I will repeat what I have already said—your conjecture over that list is entirely wrong. My sister arrives in town today and she asked me to list any ladies I can think of who came out in the past two Seasons, as she will not have made their acquaintance. The truth is as mundane as that. And if—’ he thrust his face close to Redbridge’s ‘—I happen to hear any rumours to the contrary, I shall know precisely whose door to knock upon. Are we clear?’

Redbridge’s mouth drooped. ‘Perfectly.’

Dominic pivoted on his heel and strode for the door, anger driving him to reach home in record time. He barged through the front door of his leased town house, his temper frayed and his nerves on edge. He knew better than to believe Redbridge would keep such a juicy morsel to himself. Half the ton thrived on gossip and this, he knew, would be avidly passed from mouth to mouth. He would have to tread very carefully indeed not to reveal any preference for any of the many eligible ladies in town, but at least there were now two names he could cross off his list—the two Redbridge had read. Dominic would avoid those two as he would avoid a rabid dog and concentrate his efforts on the remaining five.

‘Brailsford?’

‘My lord?’

His man, who fulfilled the roles of valet, butler and footman in his bachelor household, appeared like magic from the kitchen stairs.

‘Send word to the mews for my curricle to be ready for three-thirty. I intend to drive in the Park.’

‘Will you require Ted to accompany you, sir?’

‘Yes.’ He would need a groom up behind if any of the five ladies were in the Park: to hold the horses if he got out to walk or to add propriety if he took one into his curricle to drive her around the Park. He felt heavy...his heart a leaden weight in his chest. But this was his duty; his destiny. And he would not allow himself to shirk it.

* * *

At three-forty, Dominic steered his matched bays into the Park and sent them along the carriageway at a smart trot. Ted perched behind him on the back of the curricle, ready to take charge of Beau and Buck if needs be. As Dominic drove, he scanned the walkers they passed and the small knots of people who had gathered to exchange the latest on-dits. The Season was not fully underway and wouldn’t be until after Easter, but many families were already in town to attend to essential dress fittings and other preparations. He eased his horses back to a walk as he spied Lady Caroline Warnock in a stationery barouche, next to her mother, the Marchioness of Druffield. A couple they had been talking to had just walked away as Dominic drew his curricle alongside and raised his hat.

‘Good afternoon, ladies.’

‘Good afternoon, sir.’

Lady Druffield honoured him with a regal smile as her daughter bowed her head, her own smile gentle and gracious.

‘Good afternoon, Lord Avon,’ Caroline said. ‘A pleasant afternoon for a drive, is it not?’

‘Very pleasant, following yesterday’s thunderstorm.’

A delicate shudder passed through Caroline. ‘I do not care for the loud bangs or the lightning.’

Lady Druffield patted Caroline’s hand. ‘Such things are bound to play havoc with your sensibilities, my dear. As they would with any lady.’

Unbidden, yet again, an image of Liberty Lovejoy surfaced. She had not been undone by a mere thunderstorm. He could not imagine Lady Caroline standing under a dripping umbrella, nor dodging around a determined footman. He bit back a smile at the memory and he couldn’t resist a gentle challenge.

‘But there is something delightfully elemental about a good storm, is there not?’

He raised an eyebrow at Caroline, whose serene expression did not waver.

‘Of course, my lord. You are so right—a good storm can be most exciting.’

Lady Druffield nodded in approval at her daughter’s response, but impatience already plagued Dominic. He was so easily bored by this sort of dance with words...talking about nothing...being polite and mannerly...and females who hung upon and agreed with every word he uttered. But it was the game they all played, him included. And it was not Caroline’s fault—she had been raised to be the perfect lady and that was what he wanted. Wasn’t it?

‘It is an age since we last met, sir,’ Caroline said. ‘Was it at...?’

She hesitated, her head tipped to one side, a smile hovering around her lips and her fine brows arched. Dominic complied readily with her hint...it would be unladylike for Caroline to admit she recalled their last meeting but he, as a gentleman, was expected to remember the exact place and circumstances.

‘It was at Lord Silverdale’s house party in February, if memory serves me correctly, my lady.’

‘Ah, yes, indeed.’ Caroline settled her dark brown gaze on his face.

‘I am delighted to renew our acquaintance,’ said Dominic.

Caroline smiled and her lashes swept low as she cast her gaze to her lap, where her hands rested in tranquil repose. ‘As am I.’

He might as well begin his campaign. ‘Would you care to take a turn around the Park in my curricle, Lady Caroline? With your mother’s permission, of course.’

Another gracious smile. Not once had she revealed her teeth. Nor had any of those smiles reached her eyes. He wondered if she might show a little more life out of earshot of Lady Druffield. Dominic directed his most charming smile at that lady.

‘But of course. It will be perfectly proper with the groom up behind, Caroline. And I can trust His Lordship to remain in the Park...he will take every care of you, I make no doubt.’

Dominic tied off the reins while Ted ran to the horses’ heads, enabling Dominic to climb from the curricle and assist Lady Caroline from the barouche and into his curricle. Then he leapt aboard.

‘I will deliver her back to you safe and sound, my lady.’ He gave Beau and Buck the office to proceed and they set off at a trot, the vehicle dipping as Ted sprang up behind.

The first person Dominic saw was Liberty Lovejoy. From the direction of her purposeful stride he could only surmise she had been heading straight for him, presumably with the intention of interrupting him despite the fact he was already engaged in conversation. He did not slow his horses. He had nothing to tell her, in any case, because—and guilt coiled in his gut—he had been putting off his promise to speak to Alex. He hadn’t forgotten it—he hadn’t been able to forget it because, since she had erupted precipitously into his life yesterday, he had been quite unable to banish Miss Liberty Lovejoy from his mind.