Page 3 of The Villain’s Vixen (Wanton Wastrels)

CHAPTER 3

D ominic didn’t know why he’d spoken so boldly. He hadn’t meant to frighten Miss Givenwald away by his easy acceptance of his dark character.

And yet…

As much as he feared he’d overstepped his bounds by revealing the truth, he hadn’t been prepared for the spark of interest that lit up her blue eyes when he admitted his transgressions. He thought she might have quickly made her excuses to get away from him. The fact that she didn’t was somewhat… curious. However, his alternate persona, Avalon, leader of the East End underworld, immediately found her absolutely intriguing. His cock stirred with interest, and he had to fight the urge to drag her to a shadowed alcove where he might test the limits of her acceptance.

As he studied her, he saw that her cheeks had turned slightly pink, her lips parting as her breathing deepened. If he had to hazard a guess, she was also wet between her thighs, the thought of his villainy somehow exciting her.

In the Times article he’d thought the qualifications he’d listed had been perfectly apt for a duke looking to turn his circumstances around. He figured it was what the matchmaking mothers of society would want to hear. The idea that any rake could be reformed was a temptation not many could resist and with words like kind, devoted, and forgiving, he would no doubt uncover a lady who would run a smooth household and do her duty without complaint.

Of course, he would quickly find such a mundane life boring in the extreme, but it wasn’t as though outward liaisons weren’t commonplace. He wouldn’t set out to take a mistress, hoping that the wife he selected would have more than enough characteristics to keep him entertained outside of the bedroom, but with the lot he’d encountered this early in the little season, he had little hope of that.

Until he’d spied a blond angel among the crowd.

But then, it could be she wasn’t an angel at all, but a vixen sent to scramble his senses and appeal to his baser urges. Avalon was certainly impressed.

“Have I shocked you into silence?” he murmured, hoping to learn more about this paragon of society who appeared as though she wanted to run toward the danger, rather than away from it.

“Not at all.” She shook her head, and as she tilted her head, he could see the pulse beat at the base of her creamy, slender neck and he had to clench his fists to keep from placing his lips there and sucking until she bore his mark for all to see.

“Then you would be the first,” he added smoothly.

She shrugged a delicate shoulder, and then she reached into her reticule and withdrew a fan and began to wave it lightly in front of her face. His nostrils flared with the scent of prey. There was no doubt in his mind that should he decide to seduce this woman she would not deny him, nor would she make for poor bed sport. He could easily imagine her shapely body spread out on his coverlet, and sliding his length, inch by glorious inch, into her warmth as she pulled him deep inside her body.

“What was that, Your Grace? ”

Faced with those sparkling blue eyes, he nearly spoke the truth, that he’d uttered a curse because his trousers had grown rather snug. He was grateful for the cool autumn air and the greatcoat he wore that concealed his hardened manhood. “I was merely remarking on the time,” he said swiftly. “I have an appointment that I cannot miss.”

She looked disappointed, but it did not last long. She returned with a bright smile that did nothing to ease his discomfort, “Then I shall bid you good day, Your Grace. I’m sure we shall see each other again with what few amusements there are to be had in the city at the moment.”

He inclined his head to her. “Undoubtedly so, Miss Givenwald.”

As he left her side, he was grateful for the cool air that struck him the moment he exited the museum. He drew a restoring breath and exhaled heavily. It had been a long time since any woman had left him feeling so out of sorts. Even then, those sensations had been mild compared to the fire that lit his blood around Miss Alexandra Givenwald.

Lexie. He had heard that was how she preferred to be addressed and it suited her. It was a sultry name for an equally appealing woman.

Like his dealings with the Blue Boys in Whitechapel, there was not much in London that escaped Dominic’s attention. Although the duke and Avalon were two very different men on the outside, they were all part of the same personality. Dominic had always had the same stirring nature that Miss Givenwald seemed to have. Perhaps that was why he seemed so drawn to her.

He had never felt like a duke, although he'd been properly schooled in how to run an estate and dress and act appropriately. On the inside he’d always had a wild and rebellious nature and creating Avalon had been the outlet to allow his deepest desires to escape. It was what had driven him to begin a different life that did not resemble the one he’d been born into at all.

But if he hoped to take up the reins of his birthright and honor his brother’s memory in a title that should have been his, Dominic knew it was imperative that he cease all ties with the East End before his enemies discovered his true identity. He had the threat of the journal in his possession, but he knew there could come a time when it was no longer a deterrent.

Thankfully, Amos was turning out to be a worthy ally and he had no qualms in turning the order of the Blue Boys over to him or his son, Devon. Either would make a leader he would be proud to acknowledge, because while they fit the devious characteristics needed to keep the gang in line, Dominic knew they were also bound by honor and justice. They would not act rashly or without due cause. It was the same principles that Avalon had set into place, and he was grateful they would be adhered to when he was gone.

Unfortunately, his work wasn’t over yet. He still had a few things that required his personal attention and until they were settled, he had to ensure that his interest in Miss Givenwald wasn’t overly noted.

Pity, because he was quite eager to deepen their acquaintance at the earliest opportunity.

He was nearly at his carriage when a young lad rushed up to him. “I ’ave a message for ye, guvn’r.”

Dominic quickly surveyed the area around him, but when he didn’t feel any strange prickling of warning rise on the back of his neck, he accepted the missive and handed the boy a shilling. The lad happily took it and scampered away as Dominic opened the note. He recognized Amos’ handwriting instantly.

Trouble is brewing. You are needed.

Crushing the missive in his grasp, Dominic got into his carriage and ordered his coachman. “Return home posthaste.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose as the coach set out. This was a complication he hadn’t wanted but he knew was likely unavoidable. Transition of power was never an easy task.

The moment he arrived back at his townhouse, he changed out of his fashionable clothes into something more appropriate for a leader of London’s underworld. Heading out the back staircase, he was grateful he had loyal servants, but then, he paid them well for their discretion.

He strode out into the mews and quickly flagged down a hackney. In short order, he was deposited near the Thames near Whitechapel. From there, he set out on foot to the Crown & Sceptre. He had long employed the usefulness of public transport in his guise as Avalon and never did he allow the drivers to take him directly to the front door of the pub. The reason he’d found a way to survive this long was because he’d taken several precautions to keep his two identities separate.

When he walked into the establishment and headed for his office, he saw the door was standing wide open. This immediately caused a scowl to deepen his brow because he was never so careless as to allow anyone access to his personal domain.

However, when he turned the corner and saw Amos sitting there with his head leaned back against the chair, some of his frustration eased. He was the only man with whom Avalon had entrusted enough of his secrets where a message could be sent in the event of an emergency. He closed the door and addressed his successor with a firm tone, “What’s happened?”

The dark-skinned man narrowed the single blue eye that was revealed, the other covered by a patch that Dominic had never questioned. He’d learned enough to know that his life had not always been easy or without the need to fight. Rather than reply directly, he tossed a packet on the desk in front of him. “This.”

Dominic picked it up and emptied the contents onto the desk. At first, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and then he grabbed the leather-bound journal with a white-knuckled grip. It was the one thing he’d had at his disposal to use as leverage in case things got too heated in his dual roles. But as he flipped through the pages, he found that they had all been smoothly cut out and what remained was filled with notations of his life as the Duke of Cuthbert. “Bloody hell.”

“Aye,” Amos agreed with a heavy exhale. “It appears you no longer have the upper hand.”

Dominic snapped the journal shut and tossed it back down on the desk with a thud. He inspected the packet, but other than the receiving address, there was nothing to indicate from where it might have originated. “I had this secured where no one could find it. There must be more than one adversary that wishes to bring me down to involve my servants. My assumption is that it’s someone in the upper echelon.”

“So, it’s true,” Amos murmured. “You’re a duke.”

He didn’t seem impressed. In truth, Dominic thought he sounded more disappointed than anything. “Yes. But I have always felt more at home in the guise of Avalon. An identity that someone would like to destroy, as well as myself and everyone else that was written in this book.”

Amos tilted his head, his gaze shrewd. “Then it appears it shall be up to us to stop them before the damage is done. As my first order of business as the new leader of the Blue Boys, I feel it is my responsibility to release you from your previous obligations.”

Dominic stilled. He had been attempting to convince Amos to succeed him, but until this moment, he hadn’t been sure if the man was intending to take up the reins. “You are sure you are willing to do this?”

Amos nodded. “It will give me something to do while Devon is welcoming his first child.”

Dominic blinked and then gave a hearty laugh. “Offer my felicitations,” he noted, and then sobered once more. Leaning forward on the desk, he said, “It appears all we have left to do is find out who is so eager to sabotage my future and then find some way to dispose of Avalon in a way that doesn’t cause a riot. ”

Amos got to his feet. “It sounds like we have some work to do. Let’s get started.”

Lexie had taken special consideration with her appearance later that afternoon at the musicale, but she left feeling despondent since the duke had failed to make an appearance. She wished she’d told him at the museum that she would be attending, but she had imagined he would be there.

Her aunt had noticed her reticence on the way back to their townhouse in Mayfair and remarked upon it, having no idea that her true disappointment was in the one man she had been warned against. “Don’t fret, my dear. I know the ladies this evening had more gentlemen hanging on their every word, but we shall endeavor to set them all on their ear when the season begins in earnest next spring. Once your talents are showcased the fight will be on, and you will have no end of suitors clamoring for your hand, mark my word. I promised your father that I would see you happily married in one season, and I intend to keep it.”

She had offered a weak smile to her aunt, but inside her heart was withering. She wasn’t sure how long it took men of society to propose but surely it wouldn’t take as long as the spring for her to see the duke on one knee?

Perhaps she had to adjust her strategy. It wasn’t as though she was schooled in the art of flirtation, but she had thought she and the duke had shared a moment earlier in the day. When he’d claimed the rumors about him had been true, she couldn’t stop her stomach from doing a little flip, nor the way her heart had abruptly run away with her. She had panicked at first, thinking that he had been able to see her delight at the revelation when she should have backed away in horror. Any sensible lady would have done so, but Lexie had been hoping to uncover just this thing. She wanted adventure and excitement, and with the slight flicker in the duke’s brown eyes, she knew he could show her that—and more.

It was the prospect of more that had caused her breathing to become slightly erratic.

It was all she could do not to clap her hands together in glee as she’d practically skipped down the museum steps on the way home. Her maid had looked at her curiously but wisely said nothing as they had returned. Once secluded in her room, Lexie had spun in a circle of elation in the middle of her bedchamber before collapsing on the bed. She had closed her eyes and hugged herself, imagining the duke was there with her. He would take her in his arms and kiss her until her toes curled and she could finally experience something of note in her staid existence. She was tired of being so proper and perfect.

She wanted the chance to be naughty, so very naughty. Whether or not she found herself going home in disgrace or ruined, she wasn’t certain that she cared. She had no other siblings to concern herself with and her mother was long gone, so there would be no disapproving stares to greet her other than that of her father and he was known to offer them more than a warm smile at any given time. She would regret injuring her Aunt Bonnie who had taken it upon herself to act as her chaperone, but Lexie had no doubt she would easily wash her hands of any scandal and rush to Margaret and explain how she had been taken advantage of by her nasty relation.

Lexie giggled at the image of her aunt fanning herself and trying not to faint. The theatrics would almost be too entertaining not to witness.

She surely sounded like a horrible person for daring to envision such a scenario, but it wasn’t that she was ungrateful for the opportunity she’d been given. She just looked at her journey to London as a different sort of opportunity than the one she was expected to have. Why was it that men got to have all the fun and women had to comport themselves with the utmost decorum so as not to garner a whiff of scandal? Men could have their liaisons and gamble and race their carriages, and no one thought anything of it. It was all part of the process of settling down, as her aunt had put it. Lexie decided women should have the same freedoms and she intended to do her best to fulfill those dreams.

Unfortunately, the next time she encountered the duke was more than two weeks later on Guy Fawkes night at Vauxhall amidst fireworks, large bonfires, and even a costume party. Lexie had been surprised when her aunt had suggested they attend, believing that it might be considered too pagan or Gaelic for them to participate, but she had merely lifted her chin and said she never missed any important society event. And since it was rumored that the king might make an appearance, she wasn’t about to bow out.

All this time, Lexie thought of the subject of her fascination and how disappointed she’d been that he’d failed to appear at any of the ton events she had attended. For someone who had wanted to find a bride, she thought the man had done a superb job of making himself scarce. And of all the times he chose to resurface, it was rather ironic that he should come dressed as Hades when he was wanting to prove his new respectability in taking a suitable wife. She had spied his towering figure immediately. If it hadn’t been for the air of dominance that he presented to the rest of the world, she would have known him by his tousled dark hair and the smirk upon his face as he conversed with a group of fellow Roman gods.

Lexie had chosen to play the part of Aphrodite, her Roman Palla robe decorated with embroidered swans and seashells, while a faux crown of rose blooms sewn together sat atop her upswept curls. She had chosen the goddess of love in the off chance that he might attend, but now she rather wished she’d opted for Persephone.

Nevertheless, she was merely glad that he had returned. She was almost starting to fear that he’d left for his country estate. What a devastating thing that would have been to have her possible entertainment ripped away so quickly!

With her aunt nearby, she would have to ensure that she was covert about finding a way to gain the duke’s attention, but as she turned her head and sought him out from the privacy of the supper box her aunt had secured for them, she realized she had no need to seek him out because he had already spied her. From a distance, the crowd buzzing between them, Lexie could still feel the heat of his gaze and it thrilled her to no end to be the recipient of it.

Suddenly restless, Lexie turned to her chaperone and kept her voice low. “Aunt, I need to use the necessary.”

“Naturally, dear.” The gray head bobbed in turn. As Lexie stood, her aunt’s next words caused her to groan inwardly. “Make sure your maid goes with you. Vauxhall has not always been known to be respectful of single ladies out wandering on their own.”

“Of course.” Lexie signaled her maid, and the servant followed her obediently. However, as soon as they were out of earshot of her aunt, she turned to the girl. “Jane, I was wondering if you might grant me a favor? But you must do so with the utmost discretion.”

The girl nodded. “Yes, miss.”

“Good.” She smiled broadly. “Then wait here a moment. I need to speak to a particular gentleman, and I should like a moment of privacy to converse.”

The maid’s brow furrowed slightly. “But miss…”

“Please.” Lexie grasped her hand. “I will be indebted to you. Just a few minutes is all I ask. I can’t get into that much trouble in such a short time.” Her mind scrambled for something else to say to convince her maid that all would be well. “I promise I won’t stray to the Dark Walks. I will remain in full view for the entirety. ”

It took a moment for the maid to waver, but she finally sighed heavily. “Very well. It is a nice night for romance.”

Lexie wanted to shout her elation, but she kept her face a careful mask of composure as she headed toward her quarry, hoping no outward sign of her excitement was showing through. It wouldn’t be good to appear too eager to “accidentally” run into the duke again.

However, as she came abreast of the covey of gentlemen dressed as Roman gods, she found that Hades had fled from the rest of the flock. She muttered a curse as she surveyed the surrounding area, but there was nothing to indicate to where he might have disappeared.

Annoyed at the loss of her one opportunity to impress the duke in a casual flirtation, Lexie turned back to rejoin her maid. That was when she happened to glance across the lawn—and found the cretin in conversation with her aunt! She clenched her fists. The very idea that he should dare to approach her when she’d had the same thought in mind was frustrating, to say the least.

But then she wondered…

Hastening her steps, she started to head toward the supper box, her stunned maid struggling to catch up as Lexie nearly sprinted across the expanse.

By the time they arrived, Aunt Bonnie was sitting alone. It was all Lexie could do not to huff in exasperation.

“Ah, Alexandra, there you are.” No matter how much Lexie had asked her aunt to call her by her preferred nickname, she refused, stating her given name was much more refined . But that wasn’t what bothered her now. It was the pinched expression to the older woman’s face. “I was afraid you might have been waylaid by that… man .”

Lexie sank into her seat and reached for the tea, wishing it was something stronger. She could certainly use a splash of brandy about now. Taking a dainty sip, she asked innocently, “Whomever do you mean?”

“The Duke of Cuthbert, that’s who,” Aunt Bonnie snapped irritably. “He dared to walk up to me as though we had something in common.” She shook her head. “In my day, gentlemen weren’t nearly so bold.”

“Perhaps he wanted to gain your favor?” Lexie murmured, hoping that her aunt took the hint.

She sniffed. “I can’t see why. I have nothing to offer His Grace. The doors to society will remain open to him because of his position. He doesn’t need my approval.”

Unless he wishes to court me…

Lexie yearned to blurt out the words, but she was wise enough to stay silent on the subject. It was not one that would endear her to her aunt, nor was it the appropriate time to discuss the duke and end up in a potentially heated argument that would strip the enjoyment of the festivities to come.

Regretting that she hadn’t spoken to the duke, Lexie enjoyed supper and the soft glow of the bonfires set around. There was a mock play about the failed plot to blow up Parliament and the assassination of King James I. As the night wore on, Lexie could almost forget that she was supposed to be mourning the duke’s absence, and instead, began to have fun in earnest. In the countryside there was some celebration around the holiday, but nothing that could possibly compare to what Vauxhall delivered.

Just before the fireworks burst into the air, Lady Margaret rushed over to their box. “He’s here !” she hissed animatedly.

Immediately, Aunt Bonnie sat up straighter and patted her hair, as if the king was walking over to her in that moment. Of course, he wasn’t, but that didn’t stop her from rising to her feet and peering out into the crowd. “Oh, I must greet His Majesty properly!”

She turned to Lexie, but she waved a hand. “I will happily await your return right here. ”

“Very well.” Bonnie gathered her handkerchief and fluttered it about in a dismissive gesture. “I will return as soon as I am able.”

Together, the two of them rushed off as if they had been given a personal invitation to the palace. Lexie rolled her eyes. She could care less for the royalty. There was only one person in London that turned her head.

“Miss Givenwald. We meet again.”