The Lady Gambles

‘Scarred from the pox or not, I doubt I could find her any less appealing than the ladies we have just wasted our time with!’

Dominic frowned, knowing that to demur a second time would definitely incur Nate’s curiosity. ‘Perhaps we are becoming too jaded in our tastes, Nate?’ he murmured drily as he tapped on the roof of the carriage and gave his driver fresh instructions.

The other man raised a questioning brow. ‘Do you ever miss the excitement of our five years in the army?’

Did Dominic miss the horror and the bloodshed of war? The never knowing whether he would survive the next battle or if it was his turn to meet death at the end of a French sword? The comradeship with his fellow officers that arose from experiencing that very danger? He missed it like the very devil!

‘Not to the point of wanting to renew my commission, no. You?’

Osbourne shrugged. ‘It is a fact that civilian life can be tedious as well as damned repetitious.’

Dominic felt relieved to know that he was not the only one to miss those years of feeling as if one walked constantly on the knife edge of danger. ‘I am told that participating in a London Season often resembles a battlefield,’ he mused.

‘Do not even mention the Season to me,’ the other man groaned. ‘My Aunt Gertrude has taken it into her head that it is high time I took myself a wife,’ he explained at Dominic’s questioning look. ‘As such she is insisting that I escort her to several balls and soirées during the next few weeks. No doubt with the expectation of finding a young woman she believes will make me a suitable Countess.’

‘Ah.’ Dominic began to understand his friend’s restlessness this evening; Mrs Gertrude Wilson was Osbourne’s closest relative, and one, moreover, of whom he was extremely fond. She reciprocated by taking a great interest in her nephew’s life. To the point, it seemed, that she was now attempting to find him a wife. Reason enough for Dominic to be grateful for his own lack of female relations! ‘I take it that you are not in agreement with her wishes?’

‘In agreement with the idea of shackling myself for life to some mealy-mouthed chit who has no doubt been taught to lie back and think of king and country when we are in bed together? Certainly not!’ Osbourne barely suppressed his shiver of revulsion. ‘I cannot think what Gabriel is about even contemplating such a fate.’

It was a fact that all three gentlemen would one day have to take a wife and produce the necessary heir to their respective earldoms. Fortunately, it seemed that Osbourne, at least, was as averse to accepting that fate as Dominic was. Although there was no doubting that Mrs Gertrude Wilson was a force to be reckoned with!

Dominic’s humour at his friend’s situation faded, his mouth tightening in disapproval, as the two gentlemen stepped down from his carriage minutes later and he saw that Ben Jackson was once again absent from his position at the entrance to Nick’s; obviously they had arrived in time for Nathaniel to witness Caro Morton’s second performance of the evening.

However, the sound of shouting, breaking glass and the crashing of furniture coming from the direction of the main gaming room as they stepped into the spacious hallway of the club in no way resembled the awed silence Dominic had experienced on his arrival the previous evening.

Especially when it was accompanied by the sound of a woman’s screams!

Chapter Three

Caro had never been as frightened in her life as she was at that moment. Even with Ben and two other men standing protectively in front of her, and keeping the worst of the fighting at bay, it was still possible for her to see men’s fists flying, the blood freely flowing from noses and cut faces as chairs, tables and bottles were also brought into play.

In truth, she had no idea how the fighting had even begun. One moment she had been singing as usual, and the next a gentleman had tried to step on to the stage and grab hold of her. At first Caro had believed the second gentleman to step forwards was attempting to come to her aid, until he pushed the first man aside and also lunged towards where she had half-risen from the chaise in alarm.

After that all bedlam had broken loose, it seemed, with a dozen or more men fighting off the first two with fists and any item of furniture that came readily to hand. And through it all, every terrifying moment of it, Caro had been humiliatingly aware of Lord Dominic Vaughn’s dire warnings of the night before …

‘Care to join in?’ Osbourne invited with glee as the two men stood in the doorway of the gaming room still hatted and cloaked.

Dominic’s narrowed gaze had taken stock of the situation at a glance. Thirty or so gentlemen fighting in earnest. Several of the brocade-covered chairs broken. Tables overturned, and shattered glasses and bottles crunching underfoot. Drew Butler was caught in the middle of it all as he tried to call a halt to the fighting. And on the raised stage, Ben Jackson stood immovable in front of where a head of ebony curls was just visible above and behind the chaise.

‘Head towards the stage,’ Dominic directed Osbourne grimly as he threw his hat aside. ‘If we can get the girl out of here, I believe the fighting will come to an end.’

‘I sincerely hope it does not!’ Nathaniel grinned roguishly as he stepped purposefully into the mêlée.

Most of the gentlemen fighting seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as Osbourne, despite having bloody noses, the occasional lost tooth and several eyes that would no doubt be black come morning. It was the three or four gentlemen closest to Ben Jackson, and their dogged determination to lay hands on Caro as she crouched down behind the chaise, that concerned Dominic the most. Although to give Ben his due, he had so far managed to keep them all at arm’s length, and even managed to shoot Dominic and Osbourne an appreciative grin as they stepped up beside him.

At which point Caro Morton emerged from behind the chaise and launched herself into his arms. ‘Thank goodness you are come, Dominic!’

Osborne grinned knowingly at the spectacle. ‘You take the girl, Dom; this is the most fun I’ve had in years!’ He swung a fist and knocked one of the men from the stage with a telling crunch of flesh against teeth.

At that moment Dominic was so angry that he wanted nothing more than to break a few bones for himself. A satisfaction he knew he would have to forgo as Caro’s arms tightened about his neck, a pair of widely terrified sea-green eyes visible through the slits in the jewelled mask as she looked up at him.

Dominic’s gaze darkened as he saw that her gold gown was ripped in several places. ‘Did I not warn you?’ Dominic’s voice was chilling as he pulled her arms from about his neck and swung off his cloak to cover her in it before bending down to place his arm at the back of her knees and toss her up on to his shoulder as he straightened.

‘I— What— Put me down this instant!’ Tiny fists pummelled against his back.

‘I believe now would be as good a time as any for you to learn when it is wiser to remain silent,’ Dominic rasped grimly as several male heads turned his way to watch jealously as he carried her from the stage and out to the private area at the back of the club.

The last thing that Caro had needed in the midst of that nightmare was for Lord Dominic Vaughn to tell her ‘I told you so’. She had already been terrified enough for one evening without the added humiliation of being thrown over this man’s shoulder as if she were no more than a sack of potatoes or a bail of straw on her father’s estate!

Caro struggled to be released as soon as they reached the relative safety of the deserted hallway. ‘You will put me down this instant!’ she instructed furiously as her struggles resulted only in her becoming even more hot and bad-tempered.

‘Gladly.’ Dominic slid her unceremoniously down the hard length of his body before lowering her bare feet on to the cold stone floor.

‘I do not believe I have ever met a man more ill mannered than you!’ Caro looked up at him accusingly even as her flustered fingers tried to secure the engulfing cloak about her shoulders and hold the soft silk folds about her trembling body.

‘After I have tried to save you from harm?’ His voice was silky soft as those silver eyes glittered down at her in warning.

‘After you have manhandled me, sir!’ Caro was unrepentant as she tried to bring some semblance of order to the tangled ebony curls, all the time marvelling at how the jewelled mask and ebony wig had managed to stay in place at all. ‘Your own anger a few minutes ago seemed to imply that you believe I am to blame for what just took place—’

‘You are to blame.’

‘Do not be ridiculous!’ Caro gave him a scornful glance. ‘Every woman knows that men—even so-called gentlemen—will find any excuse to fight.’

She might very well be in the right of it there, Dominic acknowledged as he remembered Osbourne’s glee before he launched himself into the midst of the fighting. But that did not change the fact that this particular fight had broken out because Caro had refused to see the danger of flaunting herself night after night before a roomful of intoxicated men.

As it was, Dominic had no idea whether to beat her or kiss her senseless for her naïvety. ‘I have a good mind to take out the cost of this evening’s damages on your backside!’ he grated instead.

Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed a fiery red even as her chin rose in challenge. ‘You would not dare!’

Dominic gave a disgusted snort. ‘Do not tempt me, Caro.’

Caro gave up all attempt to bring order to those loosely flowing locks and instead removed the jewelled mask in order to glare at him. ‘I believe you are just looking for an excuse to beat me.’

Dominic stilled, his gaze narrowing searchingly on her angrily defiant face. Just the thought of some nameless, faceless man ever laying hands on this delicately lovely woman in anger was enough to rouse Dominic’s own fury. Yet at this particular moment in time, he totally understood the impulse; he badly wanted to tan Caro’s backside so hard that she would not be able to sit down for a week! ‘I assure you, where you are concerned, no excuse is necessary,’ he growled.

‘Oh!’ she gasped her indignation. ‘You, sir, are the most overbearing, arrogant, insulting man it has ever been my misfortune to meet!’

‘And you, madam, are the most stubborn, wilfully stupid—’

‘Stupid?’ she echoed furiously.

‘Wilfully stupid,’ Dominic repeated unrepentantly as he glared back at her.

Caro had never been so incensed. Never felt so much like punching a man on his arrogant, aristocratic nose!

As if aware of the violence of her thoughts those sculptured lips turned up into a mocking smile. ‘It would be most unwise, Caro.’ His warning was silkily soft and all the more dangerous because of it.

Sea-green eyes clashed with silver for long, challenging moments. A challenge she was almost—almost!—feeling brave enough to accept when an amused voice broke into the tension. ‘I came to tell you that Butler and his heavies have thrown out the last of the patrons and are now attempting to clean up the mess, but I can come back later if now is not a convenient time … ?’