Impetuous Innocent (Regencies 3)
With a gentle chuckle, Dominic lifted a finger to her cheek in a fleeting caress, then bowed elegantly and left her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE SHARP CRACK as the wax seal broke beneath Dominic’s long fingers echoed hollowly in the library of Alton House. Outside, Grosvenor Square lay somnolent under a blanket of fog. The weather had turned with a vengeance, and all who could were making hurried preparations to quit the capital before the roads became impassable. Hurriedly scanning his agent’s letter, Dominic put it aside and spread the folded parchment the packet had contained. In the warmth and comfort of his library, in the glow of expensive wax candles, Dominic stared at the title-deed of the Place, which he had longed to hold for so long. It was his. Candlewick was whole once more.
Conscious of a mild elation on that score, Dominic grinned wryly. Far stronger was the relief that now Georgiana could have no more doubts of his love for her, no more excuses to deny his suit.
His eyes narrowed. The recollection that he had on more than one occasion underestimated her ability to misread his intentions surfaced. For some reason, she seemed unable to believe he truly loved her. Incomprehensible though that was, it would be unwise to ignore that particular foible. First his ex-mistress, then the Place—what would the next obstacle in this particular course be?
Unbidden, laughter bubbled up. He had never had the slightest trouble making offers before, although admittedly for less exalted positions. However, to date, his particular concern had always been to ens
ure the women involved never imagined him to be in love with them. He had never had to convince a woman of his love before. And here he was, getting his feet in a tangle at every step, no doubt providing Arthur with untold amusement. All in all, wooing an angel was proving the very devil of a task.
With a self-deprecatory smile, he put the title-deed in the top drawer of his desk, locking it with a small key from his watch chain.
There was only one way forward. His mind refused to entertain the thought of any outcome bar success. He did not doubt he would win her in the end. It was his patience he doubted. Still, at least this time he was forewarned. And if, instead, she fell into his arms without raising any more quibbles, he would be doubly grateful.
Imagining how he would express his gratitude to his beloved, he settled his shoulders more comfortably against the leather and fixed his gaze on the ceiling. A smile of anticipation curved his lips.
Ten minutes later his reverie was interrupted by sounds of altercation in his hall. The library door flew open.
Bella entered. Timms followed close behind, trying to retrieve the bonnet she still wore.
“Dominic! Thank God you’re here! You’ll have to do something. I never imagined she’d do anything so rash!” Succeeding in tugging her bonnet strings free, she paused only to hand her headgear to Timms before impetuously throwing herself at her brother, who had risen and come forward to meet her. Her small hands grasped his arms. “You must go after her!”
“Yes, of course,” Dominic replied, gently detaching her before turning her towards the chaise. “And I undoubtedly shall, as soon as you have calmed sufficiently to tell me where and why.”
His calm, deliberate tones had the desired effect. Bella plumped down on the chaise with relief, her bearing losing the frenetic tenseness of a moment before.
“It’s just so unexpected. I had no inkling she might do such a thing.”
Dominic forced himself to take the seat facing his sister, reminding himself that any attempt to drag stories out of Bella faster than she was prepared to tell them inevitably took longer than allowing her to proceed at her own pace. Relieved to see her colour improving, and assuming from her words that Georgiana was not in any mortal danger, he contented himself with a bland, “What’s happened?”
“I didn’t know anything about it until I came downstairs half an hour ago. We were at the Ranleighs’ last night—such a crowd! The rooms were so stuffy, I was quite worn out, so I slept late.” Bella opened her reticule, hunting through its contents. “I found this on the breakfast-table.”
Dominic took the single sheet of delicately tinted paper and smoothed it out. As he scanned its contents, his jaw hardened. Undoubtedly, it was past time someone took Georgiana Hartley in hand. The note blithely informed Bella that its writer had decided to ask the tenants of her father’s London property whether they had any idea where his missing pictures might be. As she had ascertained that the house was located in Jermyn Street, she did not imagine she would be away long.
“She told me that when she wrote to Mr Whitworth to instruct him to sell the Place she remembered to ask about the London house. Johnson says she received a letter this morning.”
“Jermyn Street!” Dominic stood and paced the room, incapable of remaining still. The words, Doesn’t she know better? rang in his brain, but he didn’t utter them—he knew the answer. There were times when Georgiana Hartley was too much the impulsive innocent for her own good. Over the past ten or more years, Jermyn Street had become the popular address for the well-heeled bachelors of the ton, which number included a disproportionate percentage of the most dangerous rakes and roués in England. His gaze returned to Bella’s anxious face. “Do you have any idea of the number?”
Bella blushed. Under cover of fossicking in her reticule once more, she explained, “In the circumstances, I thought I should see if I could find the letter from the Whitworths. It was on her dresser.” She looked up to hand the plain white envelope to her brother.
Dominic received it with undisguised relief and a fleeting smile for Bella’s notions of propriety. “Good girl.” Then he was reading the fine legal script. “Seventeen. Who lives at 17 Jermyn Street?”
Bella shook her head, her gaze on her brother’s face. He was clearly going through his acquaintance. Then she saw his expression drain.
“Good God!”
Bella paled. “Who is it?”
“Harry Edgcombe.”
“Oh, dear.” Bella’s wide blue gaze had not left her brother’s face. Recognising from uncomfortable experience the emotions flaring in his eyes, she suddenly wondered whether she would have done better by Georgiana to have tried to find Arthur, instead of flying to Dominic.
Abruptly Dominic headed for the door. “Wait here until I get back.”
Seriously alarmed now, Bella half rose. “Don’t you think I should come, too?”