Chapter Seventeen
Sabotage.
Barbara’s words echoed in Dominic’s ears.
He scanned his sister’s crowded ballroom with a long, lazy perusal. She had outdone herself this Season, heaping within the room a maddening crush of bored peerage and flittering debutantes. He had been introduced to so many he’d lost count. Their names escaped him, his memory filled instead with eager eyes and white dresses.
All eager to wed an earl.
Word had spread quickly of his new wealth and holdings. Since he’d been out of London, he’d forgotten the predaceous nature of society. He felt it now. Each gaze a talon tugging him toward the altar.
“Sabotage,” he said aloud.
“Yes.” Barbara stood next to him, her posture neatly positioned to denote a gracious and benevolent host. “My maid told me this morning of Louise’s plan. Really, Dominic, what has gotten into that girl? Marriage is the best possible choice for you. You can add funds to your coffer. Lord Winthrop tells me that profits from farming are on the downswing.”
“Your husband is right about the crops, but I’ll be fine,” he replied absently, his gaze roving the room. “I’ve investments beyond the estate. How did your maid hear of Louise’s shenanigans?”
“She was discussing them with that governess of yours.” Barbara sniffed. “Why don’t you send Louise to that school I told you about?”
“Your concern is noted,” he said drily. “I suppose your husband will watch the estate for me?”
“Do not make it sound as though he is a greedy relative.”
“Forgive me.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly eager to leave the crush of her ballroom. “I’ll speak to Louise.”
He moved to exit, but his sister’s hand on his arm stayed him.
“There is no need to leave. Our niece is in a bedroom upstairs, overlooking the ballroom. When we constructed it, we wished to have a place to watch unknown.”
“That is very forward thinking of you.”
“Yes, Lord Winthrop is an intelligent and experienced man.” She made no indication that she’d heard his sarcasm. He barely refrained from wrinkling his nose. Lord Winthrop was a stuffy bore thirty years his sister’s senior and wealthy enough to create a ballroom large enough for London’s elite.
Dominic ran his fingers through his hair. Months ago he would have enjoyed the dancing and flirtations. The promise of nothing more serious than a smile and a dance.
His perspective had changed.
“I’ll check on her, at the least.”
“Do remind her that sabotaging your marital prospects is not only unladylike, but her attempts to thwart the natural order of things will not succeed.” She pointed upward, to a balcony he had not noticed jutting out above the ballroom entrance. “Don’t forget we have a day party this week. We’ve been invited to Lord Waverly’s country estate. It is only an hour’s journey south of London. I’ve accepted on your behalf, as he has an eligible daughter.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment of her words, if not acceptance, and spun to leave. He found the room easily enough. A quick jaunt up a circular staircase, veer to the left and a tap on the closed door.
Before anyone could answer, he opened it.
Louise turned from the balcony, her surprise quickly changing to delight. “You came!”
“You expected a visit?”
Her face took on a secretive cast. Lips a furtive line and eyes averted.
“Louise has been scheming.”
Dominic pivoted at the sound of Henrietta’s voice. She sat on the edge of the bed, her face cloaked in darkness. There was one candelabra lit, its flickering flames dancing shadows in the room. Light from the ballroom only spilled in so far.
“That is what I’ve been told.” He injected censure into his voice.
“All those silly women trying to interfere with our life.” Louise skipped forward, placing her hand on his arm. “You understand, don’t you?”
“How exactly are you planning to stop them?” He patted the careful upsweep of her hair. “Spreading nasty rumors of my vicious temper? Or perhaps that my fortune is a ruse.”
“I was thinking of ripping up any calling cards and perhaps engaging in a tantrum or two. Strewing cookies across the parlor furniture.” She shrugged. “Any number of things to convince them you’re not a good marital prospect.”
A sound issued from the dark confines where Henrietta sat. Something that sounded curiously close to a snort.
“And did you make sure that your aunt’s maid would hear of your plans?”
“I might have.” She passed a censorious glance toward Henrietta. “She refuses to help me. I was forced to resort to more obvious methods.”
For a moment, he was taken aback. Louise sounded like an adult. Unsettled, he allowed his gaze to fall on Henrietta. “Perhaps it is time for Louise to return home? A reminder that she is but a child?”
Her harrumph was so dramatic and heartfelt that it coaxed his lips into a wide curve.
Strains of a waltz began, and Louise rushed to the balcony window. “Oh, Dom, look at them all dancing! How romantic. I should like to learn to waltz.” She grasped imaginary hands and weaved back and forth. “He will be taller than me, of course, and so very handsome. Perhaps he will wear a long, black mustachio and swirl about in a pirate’s coat.”
She spun around, locking a forceful look on Dominic so intense he felt quite frozen by it. “You must dance with Henrietta.” Upon seeing his surprise, she crossed her arms. “Please. I want to see how it is done.”
Henrietta was shaking her head. Dominic could see the movement dusting the air.
Now that Louise had said something, however, he realized how much he’d enjoy sharing a dance with his prideful and not quite proper governess. He held out his hand.
There was hesitation. It was almost as though he could feel her waiting, denying herself what she might enjoy. “Come now, Retta, we have danced before.”
That was apparently all she needed to hear. She stood and stepped toward him, emerging from the shadowed bedside. His breath locked in his throat. Her hair had been curled up and the candlelight played against the caramel colors. A flush
