A Regency Lady's Scandal. Кэрол Мортимер

had managed her escape from Hampshire easily enough, but she knew her older sister well enough to realise that Diana would not allow that situation to continue for long. That, despite Caro’s letter of reassurance, once Diana had ascertained she was nowhere to be found in Hampshire, then her sister would widen her search, in all probability as far as London.

      Diana’s wrath, if she should then discover Caro living in the household of a single gentleman of the ton would, she had no doubt, be more than a match for this arrogant man!

      She shook her head. ‘Surely Mr Butler did not agree with this plan?’

      ‘On reflection Drew agreed with me that at the moment your safety is of more importance than your … reputation.’ Dominic’s mouth twisted derisively.

      She shook her head. ‘I simply cannot—’

      ‘Caro, I am grown weary of hearing what you can or cannot do.’ He sat forwards on the seat so that their two faces were now only inches apart, his eyes a pale and glittering silver in the weak, early morning sunlight. ‘I have told you of the choices available to you—’

      ‘Neither of which is acceptable to me!’

      He gave her a hard smile. ‘Then it seems you must choose whichever you consider to be the lesser of those two evils.’

      Caro understood that Dominic was overset concerning the injuries inflicted upon his friend this evening, and the damage also caused to his gambling club before the attack, that he was genuinely concerned there might be another attack on those working or associated with the gambling club. But having already suffered twenty years of having her movements curtailed out of love and respect for her father, she had no intention of being told what she could or could not do, either by her guardian, or a man she had only met for the first time yesterday. ‘And if I should refuse to do either of those things—go home or accompany you?’

      Dominic had admired this young woman’s courage from the start. Appreciated that feistiness in her, her lack of awe, of either him or his title, as well as her willingness to disagree with him if she so chose. But at this moment he could only wish she was of an obedient and compliant nature! ‘It is late, Caro—or early, depending upon one’s perspective.’ He sighed wearily. ‘In any event, it has been a very long night, and as a consequence perhaps it would be best if we waited until later today to make any firm decision one way or the other?’

      She nodded. ‘Then we are in agreement that once you have returned me to my lodgings I will remain there until we are able to talk again?’

      Caro had all the allure of a prim old maid in that unbecoming brown bonnet that once again hid most of her hair, Dominic decided dispassionately. In fact, she looked nothing at all like the delicious, half-naked woman he had made love to earlier. Which was perhaps as well, given the circumstances! Dominic had thought to teach her a lesson earlier, and instead he had been taught one—that at the very least, Caro Morton was a serious danger to his self-control.

      ‘We are not agreed at all,’ Dominic contradicted, making no effort to continue arguing with her, but instead tapping on the roof of the carriage and issuing instructions to his groom to drive directly to Blackstone House. ‘I will send to your lodgings for your things later today,’ he informed her.

      ‘You—’

      ‘Caro, I have already assured you that should my enquiries take longer than those two or three days, then I will make other arrangements for you; let that be an end to the matter,’ he said as he relaxed back in his seat, one dark brow raised in challenge.

      A challenge she returned. ‘It is seriously your intention to introduce me—even temporarily—into your household?’

      ‘Seriously,’ Dominic said.

      She gave a disgusted snort. ‘As what, may I ask?’

      ‘Should any ask for an explanation—’ his tone clearly implied that there were few who would dare ask the Earl of Blackstone for an explanation concerning any of his actions! ‘then I will suggest that you are my widowed and impoverished cousin—so many young women were left widowed after Waterloo. That you are newly arrived from the country on the morning coach, with the intention of staying with me at Blackstone House whilst I arrange a modest household for you in London.’

      ‘Without clothes or a maid?’ Caro scorned.

      Dominic shrugged unconcernedly. ‘An impoverished widow cannot afford to employ a maid until I arrange for one, and your trunk will be delivered later today.’

      She eyed him impatiently. ‘Does the Earl of Blackstone even have a widowed and impoverished cousin?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Do you have any cousins?’

      ‘No.’

      She eyed him quizzically. ‘Any family at all?’

      ‘Not a single one.’

      Caro could not even imagine a life without her two sisters in it. Admittedly she had put a distance between them now, but it had been done in the knowledge that she could return to them as soon as Gabriel Faulkner had been convinced by Diana that none of the Copeland sisters had any intention of ever marrying him.

      ‘Do not waste any of your pity on me.’ Dominic’s tone was laden with warning as he obviously saw that emotion in her expression. ‘Having witnessed the complications that so often attend having close family members, I have come to regard my own lack of them as being more of a blessing rather than a deprivation.’

      Could that really be true? Caro wondered with a frown. Could Dominic really prefer a life derelict of all family ties? A solitary life that allowed for only a few close friends, such as Lord Thorne?

      She was given no more time to dwell on that subject or any other as the coach came to a halt, a glance outside revealing a large town house in an obviously fashionable district of London. Mayfair, perhaps. Or St James’s? Whatever its location, Blackstone House was a much grander house than any she had ever seen before.

      Shoreley Hall was a rambling red-bricked house that had been erected for the first Earl of Westbourne in the sixteenth century. It had been built upon haphazardly by succeeding earls until it now resembled nothing more than a rambling monstrosity surrounded by several thousand acres of rich farmland.

      In contrast, Dominic Vaughn’s home was of a mellow cream colour, four storeys high, with gardens all around covered in an abundance of brightly coloured spring flowers, the whole surrounded by a high black wrought-iron fence.

      ‘Caro?’

      She had been so intent on the beauty of Blackstone House, so in awe of its grandeur, that she had not noticed that one of the grooms had opened the door and folded down the steps, and was now waiting for her to alight. ‘Thank you.’ She accepted the aid of the young man’s hand as she stepped down on to the pavement, Dominic’s obvious wealth making her more than ever aware of her own drab and unfashionable appearance.

      Vanity, her sister Diana would have called it. And she would have been right. But that did not make Caro feel it any less!

      Again, she was allowed no more time for protest as Dominic took a firm hold of her arm to pull her along beside him as he ascended the steps up to the front of the house. The door opened before they reached the top step—despite it being barely past dawn—by a footman in full livery. If he was in the least surprised to see his employer accompanied by a drably clothed young woman he introduced as his cousin, Mrs Morton, then the man did not show it.

      The inside of Blackstone House was even grander than the outside, if that were possible—the floor of the entrance hall a beautiful mottled green-and-cream marble, with four alabaster pillars either side leading to the wide staircase and up to a gallery that surrounded the whole of the first floor. High above them, suspended from a domed and windowed ceiling, a beautiful crystal chandelier glittered and shone in the sunlight. Caro had every expectation that the rest of Dominic’s home would be just as beautiful.

      ‘Would