Still, a nefarious heat cut through her body.
“You are risking all,” he said softly. His breath feathered across the back of her neck, eliciting a shiver.
How had he moved so close? She stepped nearer to the punch bowl. Just to get more, she assured herself, not to escape his cologne or compelling presence. “I’m risking nothing. I’m merely returning to the life I’ve always known and loved.”
“Would you be interested in a new life?”
His words trickled to her, low and gentle. Promising. “What kind of life?”
But he did not answer, for Lady Brandewyne had spotted them. “My dear Lord St. Raven, how good of you to come to my ball. I’ve missed your adorable face. I see you’ve found Miss Gordon. Do not try to steal her back, young man.” She tittered, then rapped him on the arm with her fan.
The music started, but she grasped both of them by the elbows and rather forcibly steered them to the other side of the room, where it was quieter. A game of whist had been set up in the adjoining room, but Lady Brandewyne plopped down in a chair near the opening, tugging them down with her.
“It is quite a crush, is it not?” She fanned herself, releasing a self-satisfied sigh that shook her frame.
Henrietta exchanged a look with Dominic, who was not bothering to hide his amusement.
“Fit for the prince himself.” The earl’s gallant tone prompted a smirk to Henrietta’s face.
“That’s exactly what I thought. What a marvelous thing if he simply showed up, resplendent in the finest silks from Paris.”
Henrietta rose an eyebrow. “The Prince Regent wears French clothing?”
“We all do.” Lady Brandewyne eyed Henrietta pointedly. “Perhaps not you.”
She had no response to that, seeing as she couldn’t care less who made her clothing.
“Now, my dears,” the lady said, patting their knees simultaneously, “I have a favor to ask of you.”
Immediate stomach clench. She forced a smile. “Yes?”
“I’m asking it of St. Raven, really. You see, I’m having a bit of carriage trouble, and my head has been aching.” She put a hand to her brow, as if to emphasize the pain. “Would you be so kind as to escort Miss Gordon to her uncle’s symposium tomorrow? I believe you own an open carriage, do you not?”
“Oh, no, I can’t impose,” Henrietta blurted out. Just the thought of being alone with him hurt. How could she move on with her life if she allowed her feelings to tether her to a life that just wasn’t going to fulfill her? “I shall take a hackney.”
“Nonsense.” Dominic’s grin faded. “I’d be happy to escort her. What time shall I arrive?”
“Five o’clock sharp.” She clapped her hands. “This is a huge help, my lord. My thanks to you.”
Henrietta grimaced. So now she was to endure an evening with his lordship, forcing herself to forget all his finer qualities while attempting to woo her uncle into letting her join him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dr. William Gordon saw them at once.
Dominic folded his body into a small, uncomfortable chair while noting exactly when the esteemed doctor’s gaze lit upon them. He was older than Dominic had expected, with silver hair and leathery skin that denoted his time spent outside. He did not carry the falsity of London physicians, nor did he wear their customary hat and use their customary cane.
Dominic watched him closely, intrigued. They were early, but the man did not come down to greet them.
The symposium had only been about ten minutes from Lady Brandewyne’s. Henrietta had been nervous the entire trip, twitching and fiddling with her skirts. Prattling on about surgical methods and how her uncle wanted to overcome the barbarity of amputations on the field.
He had simply soaked in the sound of her voice, that husky flavored drink that poured in a flawless flow of melodic syllables. A fortnight without Henrietta. He still could not fathom how he had borne the boredom.
Already she had made him laugh with her concrete opinions and her resistance to his invariable charms. That brought to mind the reason they were here. He was not sure how he’d gotten roped into this event, except that refusing Lady Brandewyne was akin to agreeing to ongoing torture. Her ladyship did not readily take no for an answer.
As though hearing his thoughts, Henrietta leaned over. “I’m surprised how easily you capitulated to Lady Brandewyne.”
Rustles ensued as more people arrived and took their seats.
“She is a fearsome lady when she does not get her way. I told her no once.”
Henrietta gave him an approving smile. “Well, once is something.”
“I was ten,” he continued, “and never have I been so terrified. She pinched me by the ear and marched me to her carriage. The entire way back to my estate she did not cease talking. And then for thirty minutes more the tirade continued. So not only did my earlobe ache from the trauma she inflicted, but my brain has never recovered from the sound of her voice when thwarted.”
Henrietta laughed. Several people turned to glare at her but she paid them no heed. “And what were you doing at her estate in the first place?”
“I snuck in.” He gave her a grin that brought pink to her cheeks, which in turn brought a strong sense of satisfaction to him. “She threw huge parties for her children several times a year. My brother was always invited, as he was their age. I was too young, they said. So I took matters into my own hands.”
“How very enterprising.”
At that moment, her uncle began speaking. Dominic yawned and suffered through the boring lecture. All because of a woman. He could have just dropped her off, but he had a sneaking suspicion that things weren’t going to go well with her uncle. Henrietta had been supportive
