Page 7 of The Villain’s Vixen (Wanton Wastrels)

CHAPTER 7

B y the time Lexie had returned to the box, her aunt was at sixes and sevens. “Where have you been?” she demanded in a harsh whisper. “The earl did not seem pleased that you were gone so long.”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” Lexie hedged, although it wasn’t a complete untruth. She had been quite disoriented around the duke. It really was a shame that he was a wastrel as her aunt had claimed and would never be approved as a prospective suitor. The idea that he would actually follow through with finding a wife at all was almost too humorous to take seriously. As a leader for such a well-known underworld organization, she couldn’t picture him in any role other than the one he had mentioned. She could be wrong and he would be a doting father and attentive husband, but it would take someone equally ambitious to tame such a wild soul. She knew she would be the perfect complement to him because her spirit was just as untamed and free, but it would take nothing short of a miracle to convince her aunt that he was a good match.

As Lexie took a seat next to her escort for the evening, she tried to act as apologetic as she could. Although she knew that she could never engage with the earl on any level further than a friendly acquaintance, she did not wish to injure his feelings in any way.

Her chagrin was genuine when she said, “I am sorry for my tardiness, my lord.”

He glanced at her with an expression of understanding, but the tight smile on his mouth would suggest he wasn’t as composed as he wanted her to believe. “I hope that you are feeling better?”

“I am, indeed,” she returned with a bright smile, hoping that it would ease some of his annoyance.

“Wonderful.” His smile was almost cunning when he added, “In that regard, I shall allow you to make up the slight by attending a luncheon with me tomorrow.”

Lexie tried not to appear too disappointed. “That sounds lovely.”

“I am glad you think that spending the afternoon with some fellow members from Parliament sounds so appealing,” he returned dryly.

She laughed lightly, but her heart had abruptly jumped into her throat. “Are you sure that it would be acceptable for me to join such an esteemed group of gentlemen?”

“Naturally,” he returned evenly. “Your wit and charm will keep them well entertained and the focus off of me and what I hope to accomplish during my tenure in the House of Lords.”

She glanced at him curiously, momentarily taken off guard by such a cryptic statement. “What is it that you are hoping to accomplish that you think will be met with such resistance?”

He gently patted her hand. “Think no more on the subject of politics. We are here to enjoy an entertaining program. I should regret it if you missed the performance of one of Shakespeare’s most notable works.”

Lexie inclined her head and fell silent, but as the play in front of her unfolded, her focus was far away. Not only was she still reeling from her encounter with the duke, but now she had to wonder about the man at her side and the strange way he was suddenly acting. It seemed out of character from the usual way he spoke. But perhaps he was merely irritated at her, and combined with an important meeting the following day that could ease his way into the favor of his fellow peers, or see him cast to the sidelines, he was feeling the press of success.

She could certainly understand the desire to be accepted. For years she had attempted to gain her father’s attention, and once she had, she had been overjoyed at the sensation she’d felt when they had begun to converse on a mutual level. She had been reluctant to leave his estate for fear that when she returned the ease with which they had begun to share each other’s company would become strained, but her aunt had been a force to be reckoned with when she’d come for a visit and insisted that Lexie have a proper season and the chance to ensnare a husband.

At first, Lexie thought her father was going to forbid it, and she almost wished that he had except for the restlessness that had suddenly taken hold of her when she pictured the wonders that the city would offer. Although London had not disappointed in the least, Lexie was starting to feel the slight pang of homesickness. Once she accomplished the ruin she had set out to do, she could return home and live in quiet solitude with her father until the end of his days and then continue the same quiet existence with the memories of her youth to sustain her through the remainder of her own.

For now, she pasted a slight smile on her face and cheered with the curtain finally went down, although she had failed to absorb much of what had actually occurred.

As the earl escorted them back to her aunt’s townhouse, he captured her hand while her aunt ascended the steps and disappeared inside. “I hope you know that I think a lot of you, Miss Givenwald.”

Lexie tried not to jerk her hand away. Instead, she inclined her head, not daring herself to return the compliment and give him the wrong impression, that his feelings were reciprocated when she had already decided that they could not be.

“I will count the hours until we are reunited.”

She nodded. “Good evening, my lord.”

He released her, and she did not tarry as she entered the sanctuary. Releasing a steady breath as she walked into the foyer, she was handing her outerwear over to the footman when her aunt said, “I daresay you shall be a countess before the month is over.”

Lexie blinked at her. “Surely you jest. The earl and I have only encountered each other a handful of times thus far.”

“That may be,” she concurred. “But I can tell he is enamored of you. Well done, my dear.”

As her aunt retired, Lexie could feel her heart deflate slightly. Although she had promised the earl that she would attend him on the morrow, perhaps it would be for the best if she declined. She did not want to chance her aunt accepting a proposal on her behalf without any intention of following through with it.

Her steps were heavy as she made her way to her chambers, but when she fell asleep for the night, it was the duke’s face that carried her into dreamland.

Lying in his bed that night, Dominic stared at the canopy above and willed himself to shut his eyes, but the blessed relief of sleep would not claim him. He kept seeing Miss Givenwald’s passion filled face and the way she’d moved toward him when they had kissed.

He ground his teeth together as his unruly cock started to twitch with renewed vigor. It had been that way all night. He hadn’t made it to his carriage to come home, having taken his hard member in hand in a dismal alley outside of the theatre like some lust driven lad who couldn’t control his urges .

He wanted to snort at the irony. He was supposed to be the experienced one, and yet, for someone who claimed they were untried, Miss Givenwald had a certain talent for making him breathless with desire. He chased after her like a hound after its master. He had never before allowed himself to lose such focus, and especially now, when danger was standing at his doorstep.

He kept waiting for the blackmail that would surely arrive from the thief who held the pages to his journal, as well as the proof about his own misdeeds masquerading as Avalon. Dominic realized now what a ruthless risk he’d taken as the leader of the Blue Boys, but at the time, he’d wanted to lash out at his sire, even though he’d long been cold in his grave. Finding some way to rebel against the loss of his brother and his mother’s abrupt withdrawal had sent him into a tailspin of which he couldn’t find a way to stop. He had thrived on the intrigue and danger until recently when he had started to realize that he could do more good by taking up the reins of the dukedom and trying to bring his mother back to life.

It scared him because in some ways Miss Givenwald had done the same to him. His heart had started to beat in his chest for more than just vengeance or predatory means. He actually wondered about what the future might hold walking the halls of his estate and sipping on coffee in his study.

A muffled noise somewhere in the house immediately sent Dominic sitting upright. Something told him he wasn’t just hearing things, so he quickly reached for the pistol he kept under his spare pillow on the bed and got to his feet. Although he normally slept naked, he had left his small clothes on hoping that they might calm his raging erection. Thankfully, this distraction seemed to work where the other idea had failed and he was primed and ready for a fight in spite of it.

Grabbing his dagger from his washstand, Dominic slowly opened his bedchamber door just wide enough to listen. It didn’t take long because it sounded as though a muffled conversation was ensuing from downstairs. He couldn’t make out who the voices were, but he intended to find out.

Walking on steady but silent bare feet, Dominic was careful to avoid places that might make any sort of sound. While most of the townhouse was made of marble, he was cautious as he prepared to confront the intruder.

The faintest glow came from his study, and as Dominic drew closer, he knew this was the villain he’d been looking for. This wasn’t some random thievery at play. His eyes narrowed as he searched the darkness around the hall before he slowly slid his head around the corner to peer inside. He saw one shadow and it appeared to be searching his desk for something. Curious, as Dominic decided the cretin had already taken anything of value, he trained his pistol on the agitated shadow.

However, the moment he cocked the weapon, movement instantly ceased. But rather than fall to his knees and beg for mercy, the scoundrel actually spun around and cast a blade straight for Dominic, landing an almost perfectly precise throw just inches from his head.

The shadow darted for the open window, but Dominic was ready for him. He fired the gun and was satisfied by the grunt of pain that followed. He ran toward the curtains that were flowing in the cool autumn breeze, but when he glanced outside, the stranger had vanished.

Dominic uttered a curse as he glanced down at the sill. He lowered his hand and his fingers came back with blood, proof that the assailant hadn’t disappeared without a scratch.

A shuffle near the study door brought his pistol back around. Although the bullet had already been spent, staring down the muzzle of any weapon surely made one think twice.

The housemaid, Elizabeth, instantly gasped in alarm and held up her hands in supplication. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but I had found it difficult to sleep and then I heard the shot?—”

He glanced at her nightdress and wrapper, her long, dark unbound hair and childish face, and blew out a steady breath and lowered his gun. “That seems to be the trend this evening,” he muttered.

“Your Grace?” she asked, confusion in her voice.

Ignoring her query, he walked over to his desk to inspect the damage, but other than a few things scattered about haphazardly and a couple drawers disturbed, there didn’t seem to be any other damage done.

Dominic glanced at the window. Other than the blood staining the sill, of course, and his own anger that he hadn’t been prepared for a second attempt to rid him of his personal effects. After this latest threat, it was obvious he would have to hire some security until the threat was vanquished for good.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he walked over and secured the window as best he could. He considered dragging the settee over to sit in front of it but discounted the notion. The thief likely wouldn’t make another appearance so soon. But just in case…

He addressed the housemaid. “Send for the watch and wake the servants. I shall apprise them of what has happened and offer further instructions.”

Her dark eyes were wide and she quickly nodded her head obediently. “Yes, Your Grace.” She hastily padded away while Dominic paced his study and waited for reinforcements to arrive. It was going to be a long morning, but undoubtedly a longer afternoon because he would have to pay a visit to Amos and discuss these latest developments. Whether he liked it or not, his focus was going to have to be fully on the thief and what he thought he still required in Dominic’s possession.

An image of Miss Givenwald floated through his mind, but he pushed it firmly aside. He’d learned long ago that duty came before passion.

Lexie sank down in a chair in the parlor with a dejected sigh. She had managed to make it through the luncheon that Lord Lindley had escorted her to, smiling and chatting her way through the entire affair with the poise of a seasoned debutante. The earl, however, wore a perpetual frown on his face and looked as though he’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning.

When curiosity got the better of her on the carriage ride home, she asked, “Is something wrong? You’ve seemed out of sorts all afternoon.”

His lips thinned tightly. “It was a stressful affair. I had to conduct business while entertaining.”

She accepted his explanation without hesitation. “I can certainly understand the hardship of trying to differentiate the two. My father often had meetings at the estate where I was to play the gracious hostess at his side while, at the same time, attempt to blend into the wallpaper.”

His brow deepened into a frown. “I hope that wasn’t the impression I gave.”

“Not at all.” She waved a hand and offered a genuine smile. “I was just replying that I understood the strain you must have been under.”

He seemed to relax. “Thank you, Miss Givenwald. I do appreciate it.”

Not for the first time she tried to find some way to get her body to respond to the slight curl of the light hair near his ears, or the flash of interest in the earl’s green eyes, but darkness always intruded in the form of the duke. The intensity of his smoky gaze and his brown hair taking on the shade of the moonlight on an evening terrace.

She scoffed at the poetic image she’d created in her mind, even if it was true.

“Do you find something amusing?”

Lexie immediately realized her error and quickly tried to think of a rejoinder. “Merely that I wonder why we try to impress all these stuffy gentlemen when it is obvious that you, like my father, are men worthy of note without having to go through all the pomp and circumstance that is deemed necessary to gain their attention.”

His mouth kicked up at the corner, his sour mood seemingly all but forgotten for the moment. “I do enjoy the bold way you speak, Miss Givenwald. I find it highly refreshing and a trait that I should hope to admire for a long time.”

She stilled. She did not dare ask him to elaborate on that statement, for it was dangerously close to a marriage proposal if he was speaking so far into the future. Her aunt would be delighted by the prospect, of course, and insist Lexie do everything in her power to encourage the actual words, but she could not find the enthusiasm that such efforts might warrant. Her heart continued to war with her mind, and she clung to that semblance of independence with everything she had. If she were to succumb to the marital state, any chance that she might have to experience the true pleasures in life would be stripped away from her. Although the earl was pleasing to look upon, he did not cause the stirrings of lust in her chest as the duke did and that was the side she yearned to explore in great length.

The carriage fell into silence as the earl deposited her at her aunt’s townhouse, but before she departed, he grasped her hand when she would have stepped to the ground. “I should like to remain in your esteem, Miss Givenwald.”

She inclined her head. “There is no threat otherwise, my lord.”

He seemed to relax slightly. “I’m glad to hear it.” She was released, but before she could escape into the house, he spoke through the open carriage door. “I would like it if you might go riding with me again tomorrow afternoon?”

Thankful that she would have a welcome respite to think things through, she nodded. “Until then.”

She forced herself to slow her pace and not sprint into the sanctuary of the house. But now that she was by herself, she slumped in a chair and worried her lower lip. If she kept stringing along the earl, she was going to start experiencing guilt, and she didn’t want to get to that point. She wanted to seduce the duke, ruin herself, and return home with a pleasant smile on her face knowing that she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do.

As she lounged in the parlor, she wasn’t surprised to find that her aunt had left for the afternoon, which gave Lexie some dedicated time on her own. With the prospect of boredom looming, she decided that she would set out on a journey.

Ever since the duke had told her of his alternate identity, she had been highly intrigued, but she knew that he wouldn’t speak of it again. However, if there was the chance she could be in danger because of him , it stood to reason that she ought to understand what she was dealing with. How far did his power actually reach? She didn’t think that he had stretched the truth to enhance his own importance, but what did she know other than what he chose to tell her?

Asking a servant to gather her cloak and bonnet, the footman was about to send for her maid, but Lexie stopped him. “This is a call I should like to make on my own.”

He appeared perplexed for a moment but then inclined his head. “Of course. I will instruct the coachman to ensure that you are?—”

She held up a coin and he paused. “What I require is your discretion.” She held the shilling out to him, and he pocketed it, remaining silent. “Good.” She smiled broadly. “I shall procure a hackney.”

She started to go, but again, she was stopped. “Should something untoward occur?—”

“You had nothing to do with it. Rest assured, I will carry all the blame should something happen, but I don’t foresee any trouble.”

With that, Lexie trotted down the steps. She was thankful that it was a pleasant autumn day, but with the gray clouds starting to thicken on the horizon, she had no doubt that rain would soon be a problem. Hopefully, it would wait until the evening when she was safely back inside. Either way, she was an Englishwoman and rain was a rather common occurrence. Having lived in the country most of her life, she knew how to handle herself in all sorts of weather. It was not a deterrent when it came to satisfying her burning curiosity.

She had never hailed down a public carriage before, but it turned out to be quite easy enough. As she started to get inside, she asked to be taken to the Duke of Cuthbert’s residence.

The driver spat out something that looked quite unpleasant and said, “Don’t know o’ a toff by tha’ name.”

She tossed a shilling to him, which he grabbed with lightning-fast accuracy in midair. “I’m sure you are resourceful enough to figure it out.”

She shut the door of the conveyance and after a moment’s pause, there was a slight jerk as they set into motion.

It was a particularly uncomfortable ride, a marked difference from her aunt’s well sprung and finely upholstered coach. But at least it was offering her the anonymity she was looking for when they paused a short time later.

She stuck her head out the window. “Have we already arrived?”

“Aye.” Another undesirable spit. “But ’e’s just left.”

She frowned as she surveyed the front of the townhouse. “I see no carriage pulling away from the curb.”

He pointed toward the mews where a man was leaving on horseback. “That’s the man you’re lookin’ for.”

Lexie caught a glimpse of simple attire before the rider disappeared around the corner. “Are you quite sure?”

He looked at her directly. “When you’ve given as many rides as I have during all hours o’ th’ day an’ night, you start t’ notice things. ”

She lifted a brow, realizing that he had a point. “Very well then. Follow him.”

He narrowed his gaze. “I don’t give anyone rides for free, even ladies.”

She sniffed. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t intend to take advantage of your lovely generosity. Now, go before we lose him.”

He gave a flick of the reins and she had to hold on to her bonnet to keep it from jumping off her head. “Scoundrel,” she mumbled under her breath, but decided she would let the slight pass, so long as she gained what she wanted.