Reckless in Pink (12 page)

“About as clear as the one I have.” Relief flooded through him. If his father had betrayed his King and country at one time, he had thought better of it later and refused to help further. That spoke for something, after all. He glanced at his father. Lord Brampton’s left hand still clutched the armrest as if his life depended on it.

Dominic picked up the second paper, and everything he’d known before in his life changed. Nothing was the same, nor would it ever be so again.

Claudia had not expected to see Dominic that morning. He’d quite clearly told her he intended to spend the day at his club, collecting gossip. She had teased him, telling him the club members sounded like a lot of old women and he’d be much better off at her mother’s literary salon.

Just before they’d parted, he’d taken advantage of a nearby darkened doorway to pull her in and snatch a brief breathless kiss. He teased her with the possibility of more but never allowed it. “That is for your insults about my club,” he murmured as he took her back to her coach. “You can wait for another, and I shall probably make you ask for it.”

Today, she was emerging from a toy-shop in the Royal Exchange when he swept up to her. He grabbed her arm in a grip she could only describe as vise-like, since she didn’t have time to think of anything more original. He dragged her to the end of the row, where narrow stairs led down to the ground level.

In the scant shelter offered, he dragged her close and kissed her in a way she had never known. His recklessness thrilled her to her marrow. He took her brutally, forcing her mouth open with his tongue, possessing rather than tasting and exploring. Desperation transmitted itself to her in the tense muscles under his unusually plain coat and his arousing kiss.

The dandy had turned into a savage. He heated her fast, her senses rising to respond to his demands.

Groaning, he finished the kiss but before he could do so again, she spoke. “My mother and sister will be more than shocked by your behavior. While I am flattered, didn’t you say you’d be at White’s today?”

He shook his head. “I needed to see you. You said you were shopping. I walked the length and breadth of Bond Street, and then I recalled this place.”

While the Exchange was mainly for commerce, it also had a number of charming shops. A stroll around the upper floors, open to the fresh air, made the most of the pleasant weather.

“Bond Street is always crowded. Besides, I wanted to find a new fan, and the best maker in London trades from here.” She spoke by rote, calmly.

He was agitated, his voice holding his distress.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed and then turned, holding out his arm. “I just wanted to see you, that was all. One last time.”

“What do you mean? Where are you going?” Now it was her turn to feel alarmed.

“Nowhere.” He grimaced. “I have to talk to you. I will not—never mind, I cannot speak to you rationally here. I barely know what rational is any more. I fear what I have to say may involve your father and brothers. I must ask to see them.” He paused. “They are at least men of honor.”

“You are a man of honor.”

He took her face between her hands. “I have cheated and lied for my country. I have caused people suffering when I wanted to learn the truth or reveal a secret.”

He’d hurt them? He could mean nothing else. While she’d vaguely imagined his clandestine work had not been completely above board, she’d assured herself that he’d done it for his country. That made whatever he did expedient. She could not believe that he had prolonged suffering.

“You wouldn’t have hurt them unnecessarily.” She spoke firmly. A breeze swept past them, ruffling the folds of her light shawl and disturbing the curls brushing her neck.

With a slight wistful smile, he brushed a curl back and lingered to caress her neck softly. “You are utterly charming,” he said, “I suspect your pragmatism outdoes mine. I cannot say I did cause anyone to suffer unnecessarily, but what is necessity?”

“Philosophy, here?” She glanced around. “I told you that you’d be better at my mother’s salon. She’s holding it in an hour. Will you come?”

He shook his head. “After what I have to tell you, you will not wish to be in my company. I will call on you as soon as I may and explain myself. I owe you that, at least. I will request that at least some of your family be present at that time. I cannot tell you more, my sweet, because I can’t bear to say it more than once. Have no hopes in me. Whatever we thought was growing between us is at an end. We cannot continue with anything. I have plans to rejoin the army abroad, although my…parents…are against it.”

“But you’re the only heir!” How could he walk away from that? He would make his parents unhappy and deny everything they had worked for.

He only pressed another hard, feverish kiss to her lips, and then he was gone. He clattered down the stairs as her mother and sister rounded the corner and caught up to her.

Lady Strenshall gazed down the stairs. “That young man has a bee in his bonnet, and that’s for sure. I’m not sure he’d be entirely comfortable as a husband.”

To her mild surprise, Claudia found she could still smile at the vision of Dominic wearing a bonnet.

* * * *

“Have you not seen your favorite admirer recently?”

Claudia glanced sharply at her sister, who was placidly seated at the dressing-table mirror hooking in a pair of amethyst earrings. “Which one would that be?”

“You know fine well. St. Just.” She finished and sat back to admire the result, shrugged, and got up to make way for her sister.

“Why do you do that?” Claudia demanded, eager to get the conversation away from her erstwhile courtier.

“What?” Livia twitched at her gown. Their maid had just left, dismissed by Livia before she’d quite finished. Livia picked up her spectacles and popped them on her nose before examining her appearance in the mirror and turning away.

“You are quite lovely, you know.”

“Considering we are identical, that’s rather vain of you.”

Claudia smiled. “Some people can tell us apart, even when you’re not wearing those horrible things.”

Livia took off the glasses. “These horrible things save me from headaches when I’m studying. Twenty years ago, I would not be able to see so well close-up. Did you know that the expert in optics who developed these lenses lives in London?”

It was Claudia’s turn to shrug. She took her place before the mirror and picked up the haresfoot. “I’m glad he’s proved of use to you.”

Prepared to continue the discussion, even accept one of her sister’s lectures, she attended to her cheeks. She added some of the blush that had unaccountably disappeared over the last few days. She’d appeared almost lackluster when she looked at herself in the mirror in the mornings.

“Come on, Claudia, you’ve been tossing and turning all night. You can’t hide it from me. Everyone else may think you’re the same as always, but you’ve fallen out with him, haven’t you?”

It wasn’t like Livia to recall the original topic of discussion, especially when given permission to impart a nugget of knowledge. She must have really made her mind up to confront Claudia. That meant she wouldn’t let up until Claudia said something.

Claudia racked her brains. “We do not suit, that’s all. Our…association was exciting and interesting, but we tired of each other. Ran out of conversation.”

“No you did not.” Livia spoke so calmly, as if she’d been there. “It was after that day at the Exchange when he rushed you off and then ran away.”

“He did not run away!” Claudia had no idea why he hadn’t paid her special attention recently, except for that day. Except the possibility that had been nagging at her mind. Perhaps it was time to share it.

“That day he said he was going to talk to Papa. That was the day we heard from Haxby about Gates.”

On hearing of the injury to his land steward, her father and oldest brother had set out for the family country seat in Yorkshire that very day. That had been two days ago. They should be there tomorrow. It would take them a while to resolve the matter, and then another three days to journey back to town. That was unless they chose to deal with other business or pay a visit to someone on the way back. Or unless the injury to Gates proved even worse than they imagined.

After Gates had fallen from his horse, the butler sent her father a letter immediately. Gates wasn’t just a servant. His family had worked for her family for generations, and their children played together in the grounds of Haxby Hall. A bad fall could mean a broken neck. Not everyone died from that, but sometimes people wished they had.

“Do you think he’s given up? I distinctly saw St. Just walk away from you when he saw us last night. He didn’t cut us, it’s true. Would he have done so?”

“No!” The idea made her feel slightly sick. “He is merely observing proprieties.”

“Rubbish!” Livia rarely spoke her mind so firmly in matters of everyday life. Ask her the difference between translations of Virgil and she would have a decisive opinion ready. But ask her if she meant to wear the blue or the lavender, and she’d go into a tizzy of indecision. “He could not keep away from you before. When you were not looking, he gave you such a look of heartbreak. I swear, he appeared like nothing so much as a heartsick Paolo!”

She frowned. “Paolo?”

“Paolo and Francesca, silly. The people Shakespeare used as his models for Romeo and Juliet.”

Claudia rounded on her sister. “I certainly have no intention of stabbing myself. Or of pretending to be dead, for that matter.”

“Francesca did not have a chance to do that.” That was better. Livia was speaking of academic subjects. Claudia should be safe now.

She stood and posed briefly, ensuring the big pleats at the back of her gown were straight. The topaz pendant on her pearl necklace was hanging perfectly, just touching the top of the cleft between her breasts. She would do, although the one she wanted to do most for, would most likely avoid her.

Even if he made an appearance at Lady Marbury’s tonight, he would not stay long and he wouldn’t speak to her.

This couldn’t go on. She’d caught his burning eyes on her when she moved quickly or let him pretend she wasn’t looking. He seemed to think that something had happened that made him unworthy of her. That was what he’d intimated to her when he’d confronted her at the Exchange.

Claudia wanted his kisses again, wanted to feel herself in his arms, experience his passion. Was he lavishing it on someone else? Surely not—not after three days. Even the idea of him doing with someone else what he did with her turned her stomach. One day, if she didn’t make a push for her, he would move on. Find someone else. He was a passionate man. Even a paid mistress would distress her. Did he have one already?

Enough. With Livia prattling by her side about people long dead, Claudia went down to the hall where her brothers Valentinian and Darius stood waiting. They would go in twin strength tonight. Although neither set of twins made a habit of dressing alike, it would take more than different clothes to disguise their similarity to each other. As children both had great enjoyment hoodwinking their nurses and servants.

Those times were done, at least for Claudia and Livia.

Val whipped off Livia’s spectacles, which she’d donned to find a book in the small shelf of volumes in their room and gave the offending objects back to her. Livia made a face at her brother and shoved them in her pocket. “How anyone can consider you handsome I have no idea. All I recall was your ability to get muddy on a summer day.”

“Then they shouldn’t have dressed us in white smalls.” Val grinned. He wore white breeches tonight, but not a speck of dust or lint marred the pristine surface. Unlike when he was a child.

They went out to the carriage, chattering about Renaissance lovers and the state of affairs in London. Darius took great delight in recounting the latest murder trial at the Old Bailey, in which he had an unnatural interest. It kept them guiltily amused for the ten minutes it took for them to reach Lady Marbury’s.

The torchères set outside the front door of the white-stuccoed house illuminated the usual morass of carriages disgorging passengers and servants attending to their masters and mistresses. Livia and Claudia generally saw to themselves. The evening was too mild to require more than a light wrap. As she handed it to the waiting footman in the hall, Claudia caught sight of someone rounding the corner at the top of the stairs.

She gave chase. He would not ignore her tonight. He would tell her what was troubling him, and she would make him, if they were the last words she ever had with him. She could not wait for this much longer, especially as her father and brother would be away for the next four days at the very least.

The inside of the house blazed with candles, making a warm evening even warmer. The great chandelier in the hall and the wall-sconces all contained lit candles, of the finest beeswax. Her mother, a thrifty individual, or so she always claimed, said wax candles were a shocking expense and something had to be done.

Or she might very well go mad.

She was not sure if he’d seen her, but he certainly set a punishing pace for a woman in the panoply of full ball dress. Claudia had learned to handle hooped skirts from her childhood. Now she was hard put not to send it swaying unforgivably as she pursued him determinedly across the rooms set aside for tonight’s gathering.

A group of people gathered around the huge Van Dyck family portrait that was the pride and joy of this house. Claudia spared it barely a glance, merely curtseying to the matrons when she couldn’t avoid doing so and watching in despair as her quarry disappeared out of sight.

If not tonight, tomorrow. She’d make him confront her, instead of disappearing like a damned will-o-the-wisp. She couldn’t wait another four days. Or even longer.

Eventually she had to admit that she’d lost him, and settled to discussing some poet or other Lady Marbury introduced her to.

The poor young poet stood by helplessly as she burbled on. “Dear Lady Olivia”—it infuriated Livia when people called her that, as they did all too often. She would not disabuse the lady. Let Lady Marbury continue to believe Claudia was Livia.