She smiled up at the maid. ‘What is your name, dear?’
‘Mabel, ma’am.’
Caro nodded. ‘Then, Mabel, could you please go downstairs and inform the dressmaker that there has been a mistake—’
‘No mistake has been made, Caro,’ Dominic drawled as he strolled uninvited into the bedchamber, crossing the room on booted feet until he stood beside the bed looking down mockingly at a red-faced Caro. That silver gaze raked over her mercilessly before he turned to the blushing young maid. ‘That will be all, thank you.’
‘My lord. Madam.’ The young girl bobbed a curtsy to them both before hurrying from the room.
Caro wished that she might escape with her, but instead she once again found herself the focus of those chilling silver eyes as the earl stood tall and dominating beside the bed. And looking far too handsome, she thought resentfully, in buff-coloured pantaloons above black Hessians, a severe black superfine stretching the width of those wide shoulders, with a grey waistcoat and snowy white shirt beneath.
No doubt a white silk shirt similar to the one that she now wore as a nightgown!
‘Impoverished widowed cousin or not, I do not believe that entitles you to enter my bedchamber uninvited, my lord,’ Caro hissed when she at last managed to regain her breath.
Dominic could not help but admire how beautiful Caro looked with her golden curls loose upon the pillows and the pertness of her breasts covered only by the white silk of one of his own dress shirts, the nipples standing firm and rosy beneath the sheer material.
His jaw clenched now as he once again resisted the urge to push that material aside and feast himself on those firm and tempting buds. ‘Eat up, Caro; the dressmaker does not have all day to waste while you laze about in your bed.’
Her cheeks coloured with temper. ‘I distinctly remember telling you that I did not require the services of a dressmaker.’
‘And I distinctly recall telling you that I refuse to see you dressed in one of those drab gowns a moment longer.’ Dominic bent calmly to pluck a slice of ham from the plate upon the laden tray after making this announcement.
Caro found her gaze suddenly riveted upon his finely sculptured lips and the white evenness of his teeth, as he took a bite of the delicious-smelling ham, unsure if the moisture that suddenly flooded her mouth was caused by that mouthwatering ham or the unexpected sensuality of watching Dominic eat …
Those lips and teeth had been upon her breasts only hours ago, the tongue he now used to lick his lips having swirled a delicious pattern of pleasure on her flesh.
She wrenched her gaze away from the earl’s dangerously handsome face as the contents of the tray placed across her thighs rattled in rhythm with her trembling awareness. ‘I fear I am no longer hungry.’ Her fingers curled about the handles of the tray as she attempted to remove it.
‘Careful!’ Dominic Vaughn took the tray from her shaking fingers to lift it and place it on the dressing-table before turning back to face her, the sunlight shining in through the window once again giving his hair the blue-black appearance of a raven’s wing as that silver gaze narrowed on her critically. ‘Speaking as a man who prefers a little more meat on the bones of the women he beds, I do believe you need to eat more,’ he finally drawled.
Her chin rose challengingly. ‘Speaking as a woman who has no interest in your preferences regarding “the women you bed”, I prefer to remain exactly as I am, thank you very much!’
Dominic gave an appreciative grin; Caro had obviously lost none of her feistiness in the hours since he last saw her.
They had been busy hours for him, as he first set some of his associates from the army ranks, now civilians, the task of investigating Nicholas Brown’s dealings over the past few days, before dispensing with his own household and estate business, and then returning to Nathaniel’s home to see how his friend fared. Dominic’s mouth tightened grimly as he thought of the other man’s discomfort and obvious pain.
‘Before you dismiss the dressmaker so arbitrarily, I believe you should be made aware that when your things were brought from your lodgings earlier, I instantly instructed one of the maids to consign all of the gowns inside into the incinerator,’ he announced with satisfaction.
Caro gasped. ‘All of them?’
‘All.’
Her startled gaze moved to the chair where she had placed her green gown earlier, only to find that chair now empty apart from her underclothes. And if the earl had indeed sent all her other gowns to be burned, then he must have included the three fashionable gowns Caro had brought to London with her two weeks ago. She turned back to him accusingly. ‘You had no right to touch my things!’
‘You were refusing to replace them.’ Dominic gave an unapologetic shrug. ‘It seemed easier to leave you with no choice in the matter rather than continue to argue the point.’
Her eyes sparkled indignantly. ‘And I suppose I am now expected to go down to the seamstress dressed only in my shift?’
It was a pleasant thought, if an impractical one, Dominic accepted. ‘She will come up here to you, of course. With, I might add, two gowns at least that you should be able to wear immediately.’ He had personally instructed the dressmaker to bring a gown of sea-green and another of deep rose, the one reminding him of Caro’s eyes, the other the tips of her breasts when they were aroused.
‘Have you received word on how Lord Thorne fares?’
Dominic’s thoughts of the anticipated changes to Caro’s appearance completely dissipated at this reminder of the attack on one of his two closest friends. Not that he would ever forget that first moment of seeing Osbourne covered in blood in the early hours of this morning.
How could he, when it was such a stark reminder of the last memories Dominic had of his mother sixteen years ago?
He moved away from the bed to stand in front of one of the picture windows, his back to the room, his hands clasped tightly together behind his back as he fought back those memories. Memories that had returned all too vividly after Caro had questioned him concerning his family …
He breathed in deeply before answering. ‘I have done better than that; I have been to see him.’ He went on to explain that Nathaniel’s aunt, Mrs Gertrude Wilson, having learnt that her nephew had suffered injuries and was confined to his bed, had wasted no time in having her own physician visit him, and fully intended removing Osbourne to her own home in St
James’s Square later this afternoon. An occurrence that aided Dominic’s determination to ensure the future protection of his friend.
Dominic hoped to have some news later today concerning the enquiries into last night’s attack, but if those enquiries should prove unhelpful, then he had plans of his own for later this evening that may give him some of the answers, if not all of them.
‘And?’ Caro prompted with concern as Dominic fell broodingly silent.
‘And the physician has discovered he has two cracked ribs to go with his many cuts and bruises.’
Caro knew by the harshness of the Dominic’s tone that he was far from happy at this news of his friend’s condition. ‘I am sure that he will recover fully, my lord.’
He did not look in the least comforted by her reassurances. ‘Are you?’
‘He is otherwise young and healthy,’ Caro nodded. ‘Now if—if you would not mind, I should like to get out of bed now.’ She had not had time to deal with her morning ablutions before her bedchamber was invaded, first by the maid, and then Dominic Vaughn, and that need was becoming more pressing by the moment.
He raised dark brows. ‘I was not aware I was preventing you from doing so?’
‘You know very well that your very presence here is preventing me from getting out of bed.’
He