Stephanie Laurens - Impetuous Innocent

Dominic’s black brows rose. There was a disconcerting glint in his eye, but his voice was gentle when he softly prompted, “I’d…?”

Bella flushed and turned back to her dressing-table, skirts rustling, and busied herself with a pot of rouge. She refused to meet his eye. “That you’d behave so uncommonly sensible, if you must know. From everything I’ve heard, it must be the first time in weeks!”

“Weeks?” The arrogant black brows rose again. Dominic considered the point for all of ten seconds. “Feels more like years.”

Bella, surprised by his weary tone, chanced a glance at him in the mirror. He raised his head at that moment, and she was caught in his chilly blue gaze. “That aside, dear sister mine, you would be well advised not to listen to gossip—about myself, or anyone else, for that matter.”

Eyes wide, Bella knew better than to remonstrate. Dominic was ten years her senior and had been the strictest of guardians in the years preceding her marriage. She half expected some more pointed rebuke, but he turned aside, a far-away look settling over his handsome face. To her, that pensive look was far more frightening than Amelia’s bluster. Surely he wasn’t serious about Elaine Changley?

She waited, but he made no further remark. Finally she asked, “Will you stay for dinner?”

He looked up.

Bella fidgeted with her hairbrush. “Georgie and I are going on to Almack’s later, so you needn’t fear you’ll have to kick your heels in my drawing-room.”

Her tone brought a smile to her brother’s face, dispelling the withdrawn look which had so concerned her. Still, she was sure he would refuse.

Instead, after a moment’s hesitation, she heard him murmur, “Why not?”

As it seemed a purely rhetorical question, Bella made no attempt to answer it.

Dominic shrugged, then turned his sweetest smile full on her. “Since you ask, dear sister, I’ll stay. It might be interesting to meet my… your protégée.”

As Bella reached for the bell-pull to summon Hills, Dominic surveyed a nearby chair through his quizzing-glass. Reassured, he carefully disposed his long limbs in the delicate piece.

“So how came you to get vouchers for the Marriage Mart so soon?”

“Well! It was the most fortunate thing!” Bella seized on the question to lead the conversation on to lighter ground, hoping her intrusion into her brother’s private life would be the quicker forgotten. Dominic had never allowed her any speculation on the possible candidates for the position of Viscountess Alton. And she had long ago learned that any mention of his mistresses, past, present or potential, was sure to invite one of his more painful set-downs. Still, after Amelia’s warning, and her own unfortunate gaffe, she had felt justified in at least trying to broach the subject.

While Hills informed Johnson of the necessity of setting an extra place and returned to twist her hair into an elegant knot, Bella described the recent history of Georgiana Hartley. As she prattled, she watched her brother’s face in the mirror. He sat quietly studying his nails, paying scant attention to her words. His lack of interest worried her. She had hardly expected him to be seriously concerned with Georgiana. After all, he had barely met her and she was certainly not the sort of woman to hold his attention. But his introspection was unusual and disquieting, suggesting as it did the existence of some weightier matter dragging on his mind. Like matrimony. But surely, surely, he wouldn’t choose Elaine Changley?

It was with relief that Bella finally rose from her dressing-table. What with the distraction of Dominic’s arrival, the hour was well advanced. He accompanied her down the wide staircase and entered the drawing-room by her side.

Georgiana was talking to Arthur. Warned by his face that someone unexpected had entered, she turned and was trapped, once again without warning, in the blue of Lord Alton’s eyes.

The same eyes that haunted her dreams.

For Georgiana, it was a definite case of déjà vu. Her breathing stopped; her heart contracted. Her gaze was oddly restricted, the rest of the room fading away, leaving one strong face to impress itself on her mind. Her stare widened to take in his immaculate evening clothes, and the way his dark hair sat in elegant waves about his head. A cornflowerblue sapphire winked in his cravat, its colour no more intense than his eyes.

Then, thankfully, Arthur moved forward to greet his guest.

The worst was past. Georgiana’s natural poise reasserted itself and she could function again. Then Lord Alton turned to take her hand. His clasp was cool and gentle. He smiled and bowed elegantly.

“Miss Hartley. So we meet again. I do hope Bella hasn’t been tiring you out with her gadding.”

To Georgiana’s intense chagrin, her tongue promptly tied itself in knots and her voice deserted her. She managed to force out a weak, “Of course not, my lord,” around the constriction in her throat. What on earth was the matter with her?

Luckily, Johnson entered to announce dinner. Inwardly, Georgiana heaved a sigh of relief. But relief died a sudden death when she discovered Lord Alton was dining at his sister’s board. Naturally, he sat opposite her. Throughout the meal, which could have been the meanest fare for all she noticed, Georgiana struggled to avoid looking directly at the gentleman opposite, with mixed success. Arthur unwittingly came to her rescue, turning the conversation into political waters. He engaged his brother-in-law in a detailed discussion of the Corn Laws, leaving the ladies to their own interests.

As Bella seemed abstracted, Georgiana confined her gaze, if not her attention, to her plate. As course followed course, and the gentlemen’s discourse continued unabated, she was conscious of a growing irritation. Admittedly her awkwardness in the drawing-room had hardly been encouraging, but Lord Alton could at least make the effort to address some remark to her. Perhaps, in England, it was not done to talk across the table, even at family meals.

When the sweets appeared before her, Bella shook herself and glanced about. Only then did she notice that her husband and brother had embarked on a most tedious discussion, leaving poor Georgie to herself. It was on the tip of her tongue to call attention to their lapse of manners, when she recalled that neither gentleman would feel the least inhibited about alluding to her own brown study of the past hour, nor in asking the subject of said study. As she had no intention of once again drawing her brother’s fire, she turned instead to Georgiana.

“You see what it is to dine en famille in Winsmere House? Pearls before swine, my dear. Here we sit, only too willing to be enthralled, and all they can think of is their political problems.” Her eyes twinkled at her husband, sitting opposite her at the head of the table.

Unperturbed by her attack, he smiled back. “In truth, I’m surprised to see you still here. I had thought you were off to Almack’s tonight.”

Bella’s eyes swung to the clock, peacefully ticking away on the sideboard. “Heavens! I’d no idea. Georgie, we’ll have to bustle. Come. We’ll leave our two fine gentlemen to their port.”

Both men stood as she rose.

Georgiana perforce rose too. She could not resist throwing one last glance at the tall figure opposite her. To her confusion, she found he was watching her. But his face bore nothing more than a remotely polite expression. He returned her nod with genial but distant civility.

As the ladies departed the room, Arthur turned to his brother-in-law. “If you have the time, I’d value your opinions on how best to go about this business.”

Dominic started slightly, as if his mind had wandered from the matter they had been discussing for the past hour. “Yes. Of course.” His usual, sleepily bored smile appeared. “I’d be only too delighted, naturally.”