Tall, Dark and Royal, Page 3

  Chloe jerked upright. “I don’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way, Griffin.” Her heart thudded with sickening force at the thought of anything happening to her son.

  The object of her concern snorted with disdain. “I’ve nothing to worry about from Borden Campworth.”

  Chloe shook her head. “Still—”

  “There’s no need to worry because I’ll be taking care of Campworth myself,” Dominic interjected. The grim smile curving up his mouth suggested he might even be looking forward to confronting the crime lord.

  “That’s just as bad as Griffin confronting him,” Chloe blurted out. “Why can’t Bow Street handle this, or a magistrate?”

  Dominic’s eyebrows went up in an incredulous lift. “Chloe, I am a magistrate.”

  “I meant another magistrate,” she said, a bit desperately. “Not you.”

  Sitting quietly next to Griffin, Justine stirred. “Perhaps we should leave aside the question of confronting the Campworths for the moment. It seems to me the most pressing issue is getting Chloe and Jane to safety.”

  Chloe frowned. “I hardly expect Borden Campworth and his men to come skulking out to Camberwell. Besides, now that I know what we’re dealing with, I’ll take extra precautions.”

  “Extra precautions won’t be enough,” Dominic said bluntly. “You and Jane must leave Camberwell, today.”

  Chloe couldn’t help bristling at his tone. She’d been driven from her home only a few months ago, and she had no intention of letting that happen again. Besides, who would take care of her girls and their babies if she left?

  “I currently have several girls here, in addition to Jane,” she said, “and I also have a two-month-old baby I need to place in an appropriate home. And then there’s Stephen. Surely you are not suggesting I abandon them all to their unhappy fates?” Chloe cherished the safety of all those under her care, but Stephen, the baby she’d taken into her personal care some months ago, was particularly precious.

  She knew she sounded strident, but who could blame her? She’d been forced to give up her own baby all those years ago, and she could never forgive herself for allowing that. How could she now abandon the innocents left in her care?

  Griffin came to sit beside her. When he took her hand, Chloe’s throat grew tight. “Mother, when we first met, you asked me to trust you and I did. Now I’m asking you to trust me. You need to do what Dominic says, for your safety and for Jane’s.”

  For some unaccountable reason, Dominic scowled at them. When she caught his eye, he wiped his expression clean.

  “Did you hear what I said, Chloe?” Griffin asked in a pointed voice.

  “Yes, my son. But I—”

  He cut her off. “If Borden Campworth takes up his nephew’s cause, he will think nothing of hurting you. Or worse.”

  When Chloe winced, Griffin gentled his voice. “How do you imagine Dominic and I would feel if that happened? We’ve only just found you. Do you think we want to lose you again?”

  Chloe sighed. She supposed she was as susceptible to guilt and manipulation as any mother. “You’re very good at that.”

  “What?”

  “Manipulating women.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Justine muttered.

  Griffin slanted his wife a roguish grin, and even Dominic couldn’t hold back a smile.

  “I am, but I also meant what I said. I would be . . . quite disturbed if anything happened to you, Mother.”

  “Very well,” Chloe said, trying to capitulate with good grace. “I’m not convinced it’s necessary, but I’m willing to err on the side of caution for Jane’s sake.”

  “And for your other girls too,” Dominic added. “Jane’s presence here, and yours, could be a danger to them until Campworth is contained.”

  “Drat,” Chloe muttered. “I hadn’t thought of that. I certainly hope whoever speaks to this dreadful man will tell him to mind his own business.”

  “You may be sure I’ll be doing that as soon as possible,” Dominic said in a forbidding voice.

  Chloe’s anxiety spiked. She couldn’t bear the idea of Dominic placing himself in the line of fire any more than she could Griffin. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, particularly since you’re quite agitated about the situation. Someone else needs to do it.”

  Griffin and Justine exchanged startled glances and then stared at her as if she were a lunatic.

  “You think I’m agitated?” Dominic asked in a soft voice.

  His quiet response didn’t fool her. Still, she couldn’t back down now. “I do.”

  “Then what would you like me to do? Knit some tea cozies and hope everything turns out for the best?” he asked.

  “There’s no need to be huffy about it,” Chloe said. “I’m only thinking of your safety.”

  “Uncle Dominic, you should go with Chloe and Jane,” Justine interjected. She leveled a winning smile at her godparent. “Why don’t you take them to your manor house in Sussex? That way you can make sure Chloe and Jane are perfectly safe. It will be lovely there at this time of year, too.”

  Much to Chloe’s surprise, Dominic didn’t object. Instead, he regarded her with unnerving intensity then slowly nodded his head. “That’s not a bad idea at all.”

  Griffin nodded in agreement and stood. “And I’ll take care of Campworth.”

  Chloe had to repress a very bad word. “You’ll do no such thing. Besides, I need you and Justine to look after the girls and Stephen while I’m gone. Stephen will cry himself sick without me if Justine isn’t here to take care of him.”

  “Wonderful!” Justine exclaimed. “I’ve missed little Stephen very much. I’m sure Griffin would love to spend time with him, too.”

  Griffin looked appalled. “Yes, my heart leaps for joy at the prospect, as it does at the idea of spending an indefinite amount of time in a house full of babies and pregnant girls.”

  “Only two babies, dear, and you already know Stephen,” Chloe said. “And it would set my heart greatly at ease if I knew you and Justine were looking after things.”

  “I suppose I don’t have much choice in the matter,” her son replied, eyeing his determined wife. “But then who’s going to deal with Campworth?”

  “Your cousin Aden St. George will do it,” Dominic said. “He’ll be only too happy to have a friendly chat with the man responsible for kidnapping his wife last year.”

  Justine stood up, clearly ready to take command. “Then everything’s settled. Uncle Dominic will take Jane and Chloe to his manor house where everyone can have a nice little rest.”

  Chloe glanced at Dominic, startled by the heat in his emerald gaze as he studied her. When a satisfied smile curled up the edges of his mouth, she had the oddest feeling he had something else in mind besides “a nice little rest.”

  Chapter Three

  Chloe walked through the old-fashioned but gracious entrance hall of Dominic’s manor house, stopping to peek down one of the cross-corridors. The house was wrapped in a peaceful hush. Given Dominic’s penchant for order and control, she wasn’t surprised in the least.

  She had been surprised, however, to learn he owned a country estate. Apparently, he used it primarily as a safe house for his agents. That saddened her for his sake, because it was a lovely old house that deserved to be enjoyed, and she would have preferred that Dominic used it as a retreat from the constant demands of his work.

  But his life was clearly one of unending responsibility, and from what she could tell he drove himself beyond reasonable limits. Chloe understood that relentless drive because she shared it. Her work gave her purpose and made bearable the sacrifices she’d been forced to make, giving up those things that normally gave meaning to a woman’s life.

  Still, she hadn’t had a choice in the matter, unlike Dominic. He’d chosen to devote himself to protecting his country and helping others, denying himself the domestic pleasures most men sought in wives and families. And she couldn’t help suspecting that her unfortunate fate had played
a role in his decision not to marry. The fact that Dominic remained a bachelor pleased her a great deal more than it should, and was something she was reluctant to admit even to herself.

  She headed for the library, mentally reading herself a stern little lecture. Over the years, Dominic had never been far from her mind and she’d cherished the memories of their youthful, fierce attachment, clinging to it like a bright talisman during many a lonely night. But what she had felt back then was innocent affection and the loyalty of a foolish girl. The world had beaten such fancies out of her, and the time had passed where she could hope for something more than what she already had.

  Especially if that something more was Dominic. Being with him was impossible for more reasons than Chloe cared to count—starting with the fact that she wasn’t even sure how she felt about the man he’d become. In many ways he was a stranger to her, and a rather intimidating one. Better that they simply remain friends and leave unexplored the yearnings that troubled her in the dark hours before dawn.

  Forcing a smile, Chloe opened the door and stepped into the library. Dominic sat behind a large rosewood desk in one corner of the spacious room, frowning down at a ledger book no doubt taken from the stack at his elbow. Mr. Cates, the butler, hovered behind him. Like all the staff she’d met that afternoon, Cates had impressed her with his quiet competence and clear devotion to his master. He and most of the others, in fact, had served Dominic in the Intelligence Service before retiring from their more hazardous duties.

  Dominic looked up and smiled. “There you are. I’ll be with you in a moment, my dear.”

  “Take your time. I’m happy to peruse your lovely books.” She wandered around the handsome room, half-listening to Dominic’s rumbling voice as he spoke with Cates. The low tones washed over her, somehow both soothing and ruffling her nerves.

  Pausing by one of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases that lined the room, Chloe covertly studied him. Dominic’s face was aggressively male, all chiseled angles, dark, slashing brows, and a wide, firm mouth. His complexion was deeply tanned, as if he spent more time riding under the open sky than prowling the corridors of power. Deep grooves bracketed his lips, and faint white lines flared out from the corners of his piercing green eyes. Each feature was sharply distinctive, as if vying for prominence over the others. But they blended into a visage that was ruggedly noble, a face that spoke of years of discipline, sacrifice, and power. Chloe tried to reconcile that face—a mature one that wore every one of its forty-two years—with the open, youthful one she’d known as a girl.

  Though too much had happened in the intervening years, she still couldn’t help looking for traces of the boy who’d been her dearest friend. Occasionally she caught glimpses of that boy in the tilt of Dominic’s lips or in the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. But mostly she saw a man who carried too many burdens.

  One of which, she suspected, was now her.

  As if he sensed her watching him, he glanced up. His intent gaze brought a flush to her cheeks. But Chloe didn’t look away. There was no point trying to hide from Dominic. He’d always had an odd knack for reading her, as if he possessed some uncanny emotional barometer that could measure her deepest thoughts and feelings.

  One corner of his mouth ticked up in a wry smile. “What is it?”

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Please don’t let me interrupt your work.”

  He studied her for a few moments, then nodded and turned back to Cates. Dominic was not one to waste words, another change she’d noted. As a lad, he’d hardly ever stopped talking, telling her about his studies, events in Kew Palace or at court, or the antics of the older princes. It had all seemed exotic and exciting to her, and she’d hung on his every word.

  Chloe wished they could recapture that closeness. In so many ways, Dominic struck her as terribly alone—almost as alone as he’d been when she’d first met him as a charity case in the royal household, living on the fringes and not truly belonging to anyone.

  Resuming her wanderings, she perused the spines of the impressive collection of books that lined the shelves. He had a smaller, well-stocked library in his town house in London, but the depth and breadth of this collection astonished her. She wondered if it had come with the house when he’d purchased it.

  She’d just taken down a magnificent copy of Milton’s Paradise Regained when Dominic dismissed his steward and rose from his desk. Her consciousness of him flared out like an invisible cobweb, thrumming with silent vibrations as he came near.

  “Looking for a little light reading?” he asked sardonically, after glancing at the book.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose it’s rather dull in comparison, but I do prefer it to Paradise Lost. I’m not particularly fond of depictions of sinners and hellfire, no matter how beautifully they’re written.”

  “I imagine not.” He took the book and slid it back onto the shelf. She’d had to stretch up to reach it, but he easily slipped it into place, his tall presence towering over her. Chloe was a long Meg, but Dominic topped her by several inches. His dominating presence flustered her in a way she found dangerously attractive.

  “I’m impressed with your library,” she said, trying to hide her nerves. “Did it come with the house, or did you acquire it on your own?”

  He propped a broad shoulder against the bookcase, apparently relaxed but watching her with a thinly veiled intensity, as if he would peel away the years that had separated them. She didn’t know whether to be alarmed or flattered by his regard, but she feared it had more to do with a misguided sense of responsibility for her than with a genuine interest in the woman she’d become.

  “A little of both,” he said. “I bought the house six years ago from a baronet who was consolidating his holdings. The collection was good to begin with, but I’ve been adding to it.” The grooves beside his mouth deepened with a rueful smile. “Books are my true weakness, but I’ve no room in my town house for any major additions of a literary or frivolous nature. The overflow must come down here.”

  Chloe slapped a hand to her chest. “Good Lord, Dominic. Frivolous reading? Don’t tell me you’ve resorted to Mrs. Radcliffe, or other novels of a sensational nature.”

  A wicked gleam lit up his eyes and sent a warning shiver down her spine. When he opened his mouth to answer, Chloe quickly pressed two fingers against his lips. “Don’t you dare say anything outrageous, Dominic Hunter. You’ll make me blush.”

  For a fraught moment, they stared at each other. His lips parted a fraction and she felt a whisper of hot breath against her fingertips. Chloe snatched her hand away, curling it into a fist so he wouldn’t see how it trembled.

  His eyes glittered with the strangest expression, but then his mouth twisted as if he couldn’t decide whether to grimace or smile. “Heaven forfend I should cause you to blush, my dear.”

  Chloe mentally winced at the dry tone to his voice. She turned away, somehow feeling as if she’d disappointed him. That had happened more than once these last few weeks, to her growing dismay. The worst part of it was that she didn’t quite know the reasons why, nor could she bring herself to ask him.

  She drifted along the bookshelves, pretending to study the titles he’d lined up with a historian’s precision. “Dominic, how much time do you spend at this house?”

  When he didn’t answer, she glanced over her shoulder to see him standing where she’d left him. Then he slowly followed in her wake. “Usually no more than once or twice a year.”

  She frowned. “And yet you keep a full staff?”

  The heaviness lifted from his expression. “I take it you manage all your own household and estate accounts, and quite ably too, I’d wager.”

  Chloe folded her hands. “Naturally.”

  She tried to maintain an expression of prim decorum, but Dominic’s rare smiles always warmed her to her toes. She wished he would do it more often.

  “Well, Madam Manager, I assure you that the house is put to good use. Not only as a safe house, but
for government meetings that require privacy.”

  “Secrecy, you mean,” she said dryly.

  Again, his grin warmed her. “Precisely. It’s close enough to London to be convenient but well away from prying eyes.”

  She slowly nodded. “That makes sense, but . . .”

  “But what?” he prompted, coming close. Chloe had to resist the impulse to rest her hand on his chest, seeking out his strong, steady heartbeat.

  “It seems such a shame. It’s a lovely house and deserves better.” She tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “Don’t you ever think about living here?”

  His gaze bored into her, then moved around the room. “I thought at one time that I might retire here.”

  “And, now? Do you still think about that?”

  He grimaced, clearly not happy with the turn of the conversation. “Not for a few years. I’ve been too busy, and . . .”

  “And?”

  He scowled, but seemed more embarrassed than annoyed.

  “I’m hardly a good candidate to play the country gentleman, Chloe. What would I do in a place like this? Entertain the local gentry and ride to hounds? It was a ridiculous idea to begin with.”

  She nodded, deflated by that answer. “I understand. Country life must seem very boring, given the circles in which you move. I’m sorry we’ve forced you to rusticate when I’m sure you can barely spare the time. You’ve been very patient with us, and I want you to know how grateful I am.”

  His dark brows drew together in almost comical dismay. “Chloe, I didn’t mean to suggest—”

  She touched a hand to his forearm to interrupt. “Please don’t apologize. I think I’ll just go for a walk on the grounds, if you don’t mind. They look quite lovely with the gardens just coming into bloom. I promise not to wander too far afield in case Jane needs me.”

  His lips pressed into a frustrated line, but then he nodded. “Of course. I’ll be happy to show you the gardens.”

  She dredged up what she hoped was a firm, polite smile, one calibrated to show that he needn’t worry about her. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure you have a great deal of work to do.”