Make Me Love You (34 page)

Her cheeks lit up hotly. “Is that what I’m going to be doing?”

“Isn’t that what you suggested?”

Yes, it was, when she was tossing out incentives to get her bargain sealed. So be it. Bed made, et cetera. She would manage to do this without snapping his head off.

Then she remembered that he probably already had a mistress and had brought home her payment for it. But just to be sure, she asked, “Did you buy me a horse? I was told you came home with one today.”

“I did.”

“Who is she?”

“The horse?”

“Your mistress.”

“I don’t have one yet. The horse is for you to ride while you’re here, since your mare is at Rothdale. Consider it a wedding gift.”

“That was—thoughtful. Thank you. A thoroughbred?”

“Worthy of breeding, yes.”

She grinned to herself and almost asked him to stop the coach so she could go have a look at it, but didn’t want him to know just how pleased she was. This bargain might work out after all, if she could just think of the horses she would be getting and not think of what he would be getting in return.

I
T COULD HAVE BEEN
a dream come true, dancing with the most handsome man in the room at her first ball. It was intoxicating, exciting. Brooke was dazzled and wanted it to never end.

They’d caused quite a stir upon their arrival when Dominic had her heralded as his fiancée. She didn’t need to be warned that London society was aware of Dominic’s duels. With the last one so public, it had definitely made the rounds. But if everyone there didn’t already know that he was now allying himself with the very family whose heir he’d tried to kill, they certainly did now. They just didn’t know why, which became apparent when the couple were stopped several times on the way to the dance floor and she heard such remarks as “Getting your toes stepped on by Prinny doesn’t usually turn out so well” and “Should you be thanking Lord Robert now?” and more bluntly “What did Robert do to warrant . . . ?”

Dominic had simply walked away from that fellow. But the entire room was probably dying to question him about his
reasons for dueling in the first place. Which did explain why he seemed reluctant to leave the dance floor and they were now twirling to the fourth dance in a row.

He wasn’t a coward. She knew that well. She guessed he was simply delaying the anger that was bound to get poked by the gossipmongers tonight, and avoiding making a scene because of it. After all, their marriage was not a subject he could be civil about. She could be. If he wanted to keep her close, she could fend off . . . actually . . .

“One simple word will fly through the room and convince them we—”

“Was I supposed to be reading your thoughts?” Dominic cut in.

“You’re rather good at it, so I suspect you know exactly what I was trying to say. But if you aren’t worried about getting badgered with questions about our marriage tonight, then I won’t mention a brilliant way to keep those questions from even being asked.”

“I’m listening.”

“If you kiss me right here and now, people will think the Regent has done us a favor and we are marrying for love.”

“So love solves everything, does it?”

“I have no idea if it does or not. But it does explain what you’re doing here with me.”

“And would ruin my chance of a dalliance forming tonight, or is that no longer your main concern?”

She hadn’t thought of that, only of helping him to avoid an angry scene. She ought to stop putting concerns for him before her own. But she was silent long enough for him to stop dancing and draw her close. He did kiss her right there on the ballroom floor, scattering her thoughts, igniting her passion. She heard a
few gasps. One might have been her own. She didn’t care. Nothing mattered when his mouth was moving so sensually over hers. She was about to wrap her arms around his neck when they were jostled apart, another couple twirling right into them.

Brooke laughed. Still smiling, she also took advantage of the moment and took Dominic’s hand to lead him off the floor to the sidelines. No one approached with any rude questions.

She whispered, “I think it worked, or half worked. Though it might take a few minutes for that word to fly through the room.”

“I wasn’t serious about ruined chances.”

“No?”

He shrugged. “It’s been my experience that women tend to want what they think they can’t have.”

She snorted. “What an absurd statement.”

“Then you haven’t experienced it yourself yet. It’s human nature and besets men as well.”

She was quite familiar with human nature, or was he still not being serious?

“Besides,” he added, “there are too many innocents here tonight, so it didn’t matter.”

She hadn’t yet looked at the people there, having been so enchanted by the lights, the glitter, and the beautiful clothes—her husband-to-be. But it was quite nice to know that he viewed innocents as off-limits. “Is this a debutantes ball?”

“No, though this Season’s crop would still have been invited.”

She perused the crowd and concluded, “Not even half the women here are as young as you just implied.”

“Aren’t they? But then they come with chaperones, and very few chaperones are old and doddering.”

She rolled her eyes. “Make up your mind.”

A few more small groups of people did still come over to greet Dominic and get introduced to her, friends of his who wanted to congratulate him on the coming nuptials. One rakish fellow said, “If this is what you get for dueling, Dominic, I need to find someone to challenge.”

Dominic chuckled. “I would recommend a less painful approach.”

The mention of pain had Brooke whisper as soon as they had a moment alone, “How is your pain after four dances? And don’t try to tell me you don’t still have some.”

“You’re aware that I had that wound for a week before you and the fever showed up? It had already started to mend prior to that interruption.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He shrugged. “It’s tolerable, though it could still use your gentle touch. Maybe another love potion would help?”

He was teasing. She was quite certain she had convinced him there had been no love potion. So she only blushed a little. But that he was smiling assured her that the well-wishing from his acquaintances hadn’t annoyed him yet.

But then one old biddy came forward with a new guess: “So it was all about the gel here? The Whitworths were
that
determined you not have her?”

“I know you love to gossip, Hilary, but do try to restrain yourself from creating fiction. I hadn’t clapped eyes on Brooke until the Prince sent her my way. The hows and wherefores are quite simply none of your business.”

While he might have said it with a smile, his tone had gotten sharp enough for the lady to huff and march away. He
wasn’t smiling now. That feral gleam had entered his golden eyes, which might be why no one else approached.

Brooke had time to glance about the room again and note that a quarter of the people present were middle-aged, mothers or fathers escorting their daughters. Nearly half were the young people having their first or second Season, there to find love or at least a good match. It was a marriage mart, as Alfreda had sneeringly called it, but where else in the country could so many young people be gathered in one place to meet? Arranged opportunity was what it was, that had become tradition, and Brooke would have been included in their number if not for . . . She thrust that thought aside.

At least she was certain she’d be the only Whitworth here tonight. Robert had been forbidden to bring his debauchery to parties that included debutantes, the only decent thing their father had ever done, in Brooke’s opinion. She hadn’t overheard that confrontation, but some of the servants had, and she’d caught a few of their whispers about it: “Cost a bleedin’ fortune to keep that scandal under wraps.” “He dipped into the wrong virgin, he did.” “Can’t even attend those parties now. How’s he supposed to find himself a bride, eh?”

But that was last year before the duels. Did Harriet know about the tragic incident involving Eloise Wolfe or the others? Probably not. After all, she still doted on that worthless son of hers. So did Thomas. He never stayed angry at his son for long, though when he did put his foot down, it stayed down.

Still perusing the crowd, she mentioned, “Now there’s a group of ladies your age, and not an innocent in the gaggle. And what about her?”

He followed her gaze and looked as if he was about to
laugh. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to convince me that you’re serious.”

He’d never exactly said that he agreed to the bargain.
We shall see
was all he’d said. So he could just be amusing himself at her expense—or he didn’t think she was serious. Suggesting a young woman who was quite plain-looking would definitely make him think she wasn’t. So she stomped down all regrets and nodded to a pretty woman who might be a few years older than him, but she didn’t think that would matter. “Her?”

“Maybe.”

She gritted her teeth and closed her fists on her nails. “You should ask her to dance.”

“I will need to find you a guard dog first.”

“We left the dogs at home.”

She was jesting, so she was a little surprised when he asked curiously, “You consider Rothdale your home?”

She was even more surprised that she did. “Yes, actually. Isn’t it going to be?”

He didn’t answer, said instead, “You might be thrusting mistresses on me, but I’m not thrusting lovers on you. And I’ve spotted the perfect guard dog for you, who will fend off all comers.”

He started to lead her through the crowd. “You’re going to dance with her?”

He glanced down at Brooke. That was amusement in his eyes! “Didn’t you just tell me to?”

“Yes, but—”

“I can at least see if she’s willing.”

“You can determine that from one meeting?”

“Certainly.”

Her eyes snapped together and then flared wide when he
stopped in front of the supposed “guard dog” he’d mentioned. Oh, good God, not her mother!

“We met years ago, Lady Whitworth, so you might not remember. Dominic Wolfe.” He gave the slightest bow. “See that your daughter dances with no one else while I am entertained elsewhere—at her insistence.”

Blushing furiously now, Brooke watched him walk across the ballroom in the direction of the very lady she had pointed out to him, the too pretty one.

“Not a wolf after all,” Harriet said. “Or at least, quite a splendid beast. I can’t believe we have something to be grateful to Robert for.”

“Mother,
what
are you doing here?”

A
S DOMINIC WALKED ACROSS
the ballroom, he realized it might not have been a good idea to leave Brooke with another Whitworth, especially her mother. Brooke’s parents had had specific plans for their daughter, a Season in London and probably a handpicked husband. He wouldn’t be surprised if Harriet was the one who had pushed Robert into goading him the other day. The whole family would have wanted him to reject Brooke, but when he didn’t, mother and son might still be plotting to that end.

Although his own mother was trying to make the best of a bad situation, he knew she still grieved deeply for Ella and would be reminded of her loss whenever she saw Brooke. These misgivings continued to plague him.

“Your bride-to-be doesn’t look very happy talking to that woman,” Archer remarked casually as he fell into step beside Dominic.

Dominic stopped to glance back at Brooke. “That’s her mother. She said she didn’t like her family, but then she’s said a lot of things and I haven’t a clue what’s true or not.”

“Now that’s a nasty statement, old chap. You won’t make progress if you’re going to doubt everything she says.”

What progress?
Dominic wondered. “She baldly admitted she’s used to hiding her feelings. At least she was on the up-and-up about that.”

“Or perhaps that was a lie?” But Archer suddenly laughed. “And here I thought I envied you when I clapped eyes on her tonight. You said she was pretty. That simply doesn’t describe your fiancée. Introduce us. I wouldn’t give a bloody damn if she’s hiding things.”