Page 91

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dominic pounded on Kit’s bedroom door for the third time, and finally the man opened.

“Christ, Dom,” his friend grumbled, scrubbing his hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “Is the building on fire?” When he spotted Gideon scowling behind Dom, his eyes opened the remainder of the way. “What’s happened?”

Dominic limped past him, Gideon supporting him as he went. “We need to talk.”

“Wake Theo up,” Gideon called over his shoulder. “He fell asleep against the wall waiting for you to let us in.”

“You act like it’s mid-day,” Kit retorted, though he gestured towards the pair of chairs by the fire. “The sun’s hardly up.”

“Dominic’s romantic crises wait for no man,” Theo drawled from the doorframe before heaving a sigh and following his friends. “No sunrise, for that matter.”

“So what is the crisis that requires all our attention?” This from Gideon as he settled into the chair beside Dominic’s. Kit leaned against the mantle, while Theo collapsed on Kit’s bed and shut his eyes.

Dominic exhaled through pursed lips. “I told Lavinia I love her.”

“Finally!” Kit cried.

“Well done,” Theo called from this bed, his words muffled by a pillow.

Gideon held out a hand. “Wait. When did you tell her? Last I saw you, you were laid up in bed.”

“She, um…” He coughed into his fist. “She came to my room.”

Kit whistled while Gideon chuckled. Theo snored.

“What’s the issue, then? Need to hide?” Kit winked lasciviously. “Was her performance not up to your standards?” He ducked quickly to avoid the pillow Theo had thrown at him only to be smacked on the shoulder by Gideon. “You twats, I was joking .”

“He wouldn’t ruin the girl’s reputation like that,” Gideon said, “would you?”

“No, of course not. I want to marry her.”

There, he’d said it. And he meant it, just like he’d meant it when he’d taken her to bed last night. But the married life he’d envisioned hadn’t been in Paris.

“For the love of all that’s holy,” Theo howled as he sat up in the bed, “tell us the bloody problem!”

“She wants me to go to Paris with her.”

His friends’ silence and identical expressions of disgust-tinged disbelief gave him all the information he needed.

And yet, Gideon had to goad him more. “That’s it? The woman you love is asking you to go to France with her, and you’re upset about it?”

Theo flopped back onto the pillows. “You’re an idiot.”

“Paris is lovely,” Kit put in. “Great food, greater drink.”

Dominic let his hand flop onto his thighs. “I can’t move to Paris. All I’ve ever known is England.”

“Even more reason to go,” Gideon said.

“What if I’m unhappy? What if I want to come back?”

“You won’t stay there forever,” Theo said. “She’ll finish school in what, three years?”

“Four.” Dominic dropped his head. Was he truly considering this?

Kit shuddered dramatically. “Those academic girls, I can’t see the appeal.”

“Nor the appeal of marriage, for that matter.” Theo seemed far more alert than he had been moments ago.

“I plan to avoid it,” Gideon put in, and Dom huffed a laugh.

“You just wait. When you find the right woman…” He’d found her, but could he keep her?

Kit snorted and clapped Dom on the shoulder. “Better you than me, friend.”

He drove his hands through his hair. “What about all of you? My investments? What about?—”

“I’m touched you’re worried about our feelings,” Gideon said, “but you’ve been stuck with us for two decades now. That won’t change because you’re away for a few years.”

“We’ll visit,” Kit said.

“I’ll handle business you can’t manage by correspondence,” Theo said.

Dom chuckled, feeling infinitely lighter than he had when Lavinia left. He could take the risk for her, stand by her side, knowing he loved her, that she loved him. “Thank you, truly, I?—”

Kit waved him off. “If we’re going to start getting sentimental, I need something on my stomach.”

Dom’s stomach chose that moment to grumble, and he grinned. “Can someone help me down the stairs?”

Moments later, the band had formed a raucous parade leading (limping, in Dom’s case) into the breakfast room. Lord Valebrook, their host, looked up from his newspaper and grinned. “What’s the excitement about?”

Kit chuffed Dom on the shoulder. “This poor fellow has fallen in love.”

The earl’s bright expression fell, though he held his smile, and Dom felt a pang of empathy. The man’s wife had passed away, far too young, several years prior, and he’d never recovered from losing his love. If Dom were to lose Lavinia?—

No, there was no sense thinking that way. His life with Lavinia was only beginning. “I’m going to accompany Miss Fairfax to Paris,” he said with a grin.

Lord Valebrook paled, and he laid his newspaper on the table with cautious movements. “Miss Fairfax, you say?” When Dom confirmed, the earl winced. “Son, I’m sorry to say this, but… Miss Fairfax left by carriage over an hour ago.”

“I—she left?” Dominic’s heart ceased beating. If only Lavinia were there to heal him.

The earl stood. “She did, I helped her arrange for her carriage. I apologize, I had no idea?—”

“Of course you didn’t,” Dom interrupted, his voice flat. He’d told no one, aside from his closest friends, how he felt about her. And now she was gone.

Theo growled from his side. “You’re quitting, aren’t you?”

Dom whipped his head around to face him. “I’m what? No!”

“You can’t quit.” Kit rolled up his shirtsleeves, as though he expected to break into fisticuffs at any moment. “Not when you’re this close.”

Gideon’s eyes narrowed. “Can you ride with that bum leg?”

Dom’s mind raced ahead. “Yes, but I can’t walk, or run.”

Theo grabbed Dom’s elbow and pulled. “We’ll figure that out when we get there. Horses?”

“Allow me,” Lord Valebrook said, pushing in his chair and heading towards the stables.

“C’mon, Dom,” Kit said, a rakish grin spreading across his lips. “We have a doctor to catch.”