The Lady Gambles. Carole Mortimer

folded together, gave her the all appearance and appeal of a nun.

      Dominic stood up and stepped lithely around the desk before leaning back against it as he continued to regard her critically. ‘You appear none the worse for your ordeal.’

      Then her appearance was deceptive, Caro acknowledged with an inner tremor. Reaction to the horrors of this evening’s fighting had begun in earnest once she had reached the safety and peace of her dressing-room, to the extent that she had not been able to stop herself trembling for some time. It had all happened so suddenly, so violently, and the earl’s rescue effected so efficiently—if high-handedly—that at the time, Caro had not had opportunity to think beyond that.

      She was still shaking slightly now, and it was the reason her hands were clasped so tightly together in front of her; she would not, for any reason, show the arrogant Dominic Vaughn any sign of weakness. ‘I did not have opportunity to thank you earlier, my lord, for your timely intervention. I do so now.’ She gave a stiff inclination of her head.

      Dominic barely repressed his smile at this show of grudging gratitude. ‘You are welcome, I am sure,’ he replied. ‘Obviously it is going to take several days, possibly a week, to effect the repairs to the main salon—’

      ‘I have no money to spare to pay for those repairs, if that is to be your next suggestion,’ she instantly protested.

      Dominic looked at her from underneath lowered lids, seeing beyond that defiant and nunlike appearance to the young woman beneath. Those sea-green eyes were still slightly shadowed, her cheeks pale, her hands slightly trembling, all of those things evidence that Caro had been more disturbed by the violence she had witnessed earlier than she wished anyone—very likely most especially him—to be aware of.

      He found that he admired that quality in her. Just as he admired her pride and the dignity she’d shown when faced with a situation so obviously beyond her previous experience.

      Did that inexperience extend to the bedchamber? he could not help but wonder. After her initial surprise the previous evening, she had most definitely returned the passion of his kiss. But then afterwards she had appeared completely unaware of the danger those three young bucks had represented to her welfare.

      Just as she had seemed innocent of the rising lusts of the men who returned night after night to watch her performance at Nick’s. Perhaps an indication that she was inexperienced to the vagaries of men, at least?

      Caro Morton was fast becoming a puzzle that Dominic found himself wishing to unravel. Almost as much, he realised with an inward wince, as he wished to peel her out of that unbecoming green gown before exploring every inch of her delectably naked body …

      ‘It was not,’ he answered. ‘I was merely pointing out that Nick’s will probably have to be closed for several days whilst repairs and other refurbishments are carried out. A closure that will obviously result in your being unable to perform here for the same amount of time.’

      She looked at him blankly for several moments, and then her eyes widened as the full import of what he was saying became clear to her. She licked suddenly dry lips. ‘But you believe it will only be for a few days?’

      Dominic studied her closely. ‘Possibly a week.’

      ‘A week?’ Her echo was distraught.

      Alerting him to the fact that she was in all probability completely financially reliant upon the money she earned each night at the gambling club—her clothes certainly indicated as much! It also proved, along with her determination to remain in London ‘for the present’, that her situation at home must be dire indeed … ‘There is no reason for you to look so concerned, Caro,’ he assured her. ‘Whether you wish it or not, for the moment, it would appear you are now under my protection.’

      Her eyes went wide with indignation. ‘I have absolutely no intention of becoming your mistress!’

      Any more than it was Dominic’s wish to take her—or any other woman—as his mistress …

      His parents had both died when he was but twelve years old. Neither had there been any kindly aunt to take an interest in him as there had with Nathaniel. Instead Dominic’s guardianship had been placed in the hands of his father’s firm of lawyers until he came of age at twenty-one. During those intervening years, when he was not away at school, Dominic had lived alone at Blackstone Park in Berkshire, cared for only by the impersonal kindness of servants.

      It would have been all too easy once he reached his majority, and was at last allowed to manage his own affairs, to have been drawn into the false warmth of affection given by a paid mistress. Instead, he had been content with the friendship he’d received from and felt for both Gabriel and Nathaniel. He knew their affection for him, at least, to be without ulterior motive. The same could not be said of a mistress.

      ‘I said protector, Caro, not lover. Although I am sure that most of the gentlemen here tonight now believe me to already have that dubious honour,’ he pointed out.

      She stiffened at the insult in his tone. ‘How so?’

      ‘Several of them witnessed you throwing yourself into my arms earlier—’

      ‘I was in fear of my life!’ Two indignant spots of colour had appeared in the pallor of her cheeks.

      Dominic waved a dismissive hand. ‘The why of it is not important. The facts are that a masked lady is employed at my gambling club, and tonight that lady threw herself into my arms with a familiarity that was only confirmed when she called out my name for all to hear.’ He shrugged. ‘Those things are enough for most men to have come to the conclusion that the lady has decided on her protector. That she is now, in all probability, the exclusive property of the Earl of Blackstone.’

      If it were possible, Caro’s cheeks became even paler!

      Chapter Four

      For possibly the first time in her life, Caro was rendered bereft of speech. Not only was it perfectly shocking that many of the male members of society believed her to be the exclusive property of Lord Dominic Vaughn, but her older sister, Diana, would be incensed if such a falsehood were ever related to her in connection with her runaway sister, Caroline!

      Caro had left a note on her bed telling her sisters not to worry about her, of course, but other than that she had not confided her plan of going to London to either Diana or her younger sister, Elizabeth, before fleeing the family home in Hampshire two weeks ago, before their guardian could arrive to take control of all their lives. A man none of the Copeland sisters had met before, but who had nevertheless chosen to inform them, through his lawyer, that he believed himself to be in a position to insist that one of them become his wife!

      What sort of man did that? Caro had questioned in outraged disbelief. How monstrous could Lord Gabriel Faulkner, the new Earl of Westbourne, be that he sent his lawyer in his stead to offer marriage to whichever of the previous earl’s daughters was willing to accept him? And if none chose willingly, to insist upon it!

      Never having been allowed to mix with London society, none of the Copeland sisters had any previous knowledge of their father’s heir and second cousin, Lord Gabriel Faulkner. But several of their close neighbours had, and they were only too happy to regale the sisters with the knowledge—if not the details—of his lordship’s banishment to the Continent eight years previously following a tremendous scandal, with talk of his having settled in Venice some years later. Other than that, none of the sisters had ever heard or seen anything of the man before being informed that not only was he their father’s heir, but also their guardian.

      They had all known and accepted that a daughter could not inherit the title, of course, but it was only when their father’s will was read out after his funeral that the three sisters learnt they were also completely without finances of their own, and as such their futures were completely dependent upon the whim and mercy of the new Earl of Westbourne.

      But as