Isabelle Goddard - Society's Most Scandalous Rake

‘The concert was delightful, was it not? And such a privilege to hear Signora Bonelli. I believe she is judged one of the finest sopranos of our day.’ His voice was unruffled, but even while he spoke he was skilfully extricating the apricot silk from the entanglements of chair and table.

By now the duchess had regained her composure and, in a gesture of seeming warmth, clasped hold of Domino’s other arm.

‘But must you go already?’ she addressed the girl directly, excluding Joshua from the conversation. ‘I am delighted that you enjoyed our small concert, but do stay for the rest of the evening’s entertainments.’

Her head still whirling, Domino was caught between the two and had no idea how to cope with the dreadful situation. It was one scenario that the etiquette books failed to mention.

Joshua locked glances with the duchess. His voice was imperturbable as ever, but there was an edging of steel that Domino had never heard before.

‘It does not seem, Your Grace, that card playing holds much attraction for Miss de Silva, so I will engage to reunite her with her cousin.’

Leaving their hostess stranded with outstretched hand, he propelled Domino firmly towards the door and whisked her through it. Once on the other side he cut a swathe through the milling crowd to arrive unerringly at Carmela’s side. Her cousin wore a worried expression, which rapidly turned to exasperation once she saw Domino safe and well. She nodded curtly to Joshua and grabbed Domino by the arm. Social politeness was brushed aside and, without waiting to bid their hosts goodbye, Carmela made for the bamboo staircase. The carriage had been ordered and was already waiting outside.

Catching her breath at the head of the stairs, Domino had only time to glance briefly over her shoulder. Joshua Marchmain had not spoken a word as they’d threaded their way through the crowded room, but now she saw him in conversation with the duchess, their heads close and talking animatedly together. Her heart lurched as she took in the intimacy of the little tableau. But why did the image cause her such distress? All the while Carmela was bundling her down the stairs and into the coach, she struggled to find an answer. Why on earth should Joshua’s relationship with the duchess matter? She knew them to be lovers—naturally they would have much to say to each other. He would be keen to explain his absence from the concert and to excuse his intervention with Domino, even keener no doubt to make an assignation with his mistress for later that evening. It all made perfect sense, but it only served to intensify her misery.

Unknown to Domino, her departure left the two locked in a furious exchange.

‘What exactly were you thinking of?’ Cold anger permeated Joshua’s voice.

‘I don’t pretend to understand you.’

‘I think you understand me perfectly. Miss de Silva is still a minor and yet you were encouraging her to break the law by gambling.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ The duchess fairly spat the words. ‘I merely suggested to her that she might like to join a select gathering and play a few rounds of loo.’

‘A select gathering—is that what you call it?’ He snorted derisively.

‘I take it that you finally decided to put in an appearance this evening for reasons other than to be unpleasant.’

‘It’s as well I did. It was clear that the girl did not want to stay and just as clear that you were intent on forcing her.’

‘What rubbish. How could I ever force her to do anything she did not wish? If you had not interrupted us in that nonsensical manner, she would be happily playing cards this very moment.’

‘Playing cards, I am sure, but happily I don’t believe.’

‘I say again, how could I make her play cards if she did not wish it?’ The duchess’s expression was scornful.

‘I imagine a few judicious glasses of champagne might help to do the trick, together with pressure from her hostess which she would find difficult to resist.’

‘You talk as though she were an innocent. It won’t have been the first time that she has supped champagne, I’m sure, and from what I hear she has been more than happy in the past to engage in games of chance—even, dare I say, to accrue considerable debts.’

‘How can that be?’

For an instant Joshua appeared less composed and the duchess watched him with a gloating expression. ‘Why don’t you ask her? The two of you seem remarkably thick with each other. And why are you so late? The concert is long finished.’

‘I am devastated to have missed it,’ he said with barely concealed irony, ‘and naturally I apologise. I was visiting—an artist friend—and was unexpectedly detained.’

‘That must have been important,’ came the brittle rejoinder, and she walked away to mingle with her guests in the inner sanctum. Leo Moncaster was waiting for her.

‘I can see why you wanted to handle the matter yourself.’ His smile was sardonic.

‘I was wrong. She was far more stubborn than I gave her credit for. But I think I would have succeeded in the end if Marchmain had not turned up at that moment and spoiled the game.’

‘And you still feel that she is of no interest to him?’

She did not answer him directly, but said slowly and deliberately, ‘I need to get rid of her.’

There was a slight pause before Moncaster said in a heartening voice, ‘Don’t be too discouraged, Charlotte. It would have been difficult to coax her to stay once she saw my face. There must be more subtle ways to catch our little bird.’

‘You have some ideas?’

‘I have some ideas. Shall we now work together?’

Charlotte Severn’s nod was almost imperceptible but Lord Moncaster retired that night a contented man.

Domino slept fitfully and woke unrefreshed to a new day. The events at Steine House still crowded her mind, filling it with jangled impressions only half-understood, but all of them contributing to her despondency. How was she to make sense of such a dreadful evening? The concert had evoked stifled yawns, but at least it had been innocuous. It was the Duchess of Severn herself who had seemed far from innocent. She had appeared to be so friendly, so keen to make Domino’s acquaintance that she should have felt flattered. Despite her dubious reputation, Charlotte Severn was enormously influential and her notice of a mere ambassador’s daughter would for most be a cause of pleasure and gratitude. But Domino had felt neither pleased nor grateful. Instead she had felt manipulated, even coerced. She had not wanted to abandon Carmela, but the Duchess had been insistent. She had not wanted to enter the inner room, yet had found herself propelled through its doors unable to protest. And once there her fears had multiplied. Seeing Leo Moncaster had been the final straw. His malevolent face still lowered in her dreams. Three years ago he had been her undoing and here he was once more, ready to do her harm if he possibly could.

Rescue had come, but at what cost? Just when she’d decided that on no account must she have further dealings with Joshua Marchmain, he had made her beholden. How shameful to be dependent on a rake for rescue! He had said not a word as he’d walked her towards her cousin and sanctuary, but he must have thought her a silly and naïve girl, out of her depth and drowning. It was evident that he had been angry with the duchess—at one point Domino had felt literally pulled between the two of them—and she might have found comfort in that, but for the last glimpse she’d had of the pair.

They had stood as though closeted, their heads so close that his cheek was almost grazing the woman’s hair. Any animosity had vanished. They had been talking easily together and she had a sinking feeling that she had been the main subject of their conversation. Her face burned; they would decide that she was a foolish young girl who had become hysterical when invited to partake in a game of chance. Then a worse thought struck, making her face burn even brighter. What if she really had been that foolish, foolish enough to imagine the whole thing and misinterpret the duchess’s conduct? This high-born lady had gone out of her way to be friendly and her seeming coercion might simply be a desire to encourage a reluctant young guest to enjoy herself. The duchess would not know her unfortunate history with Lord Moncaster; she would be ignorant of the dread he evoked. And how had Domino responded to Charlotte’s overtures? Blind, inexplicable panic and a dreadful lapse of good manners. She and Carmela had left the party without a word of thanks or indeed a word of farewell. It was appalling.