Chapter 54
Dominic
Dominic couldn’t stop thinking about what River had said after the man left the estate on the back of his hired horse. He thought about it almost as much as he thought about Rayna.
Maybe he did have to meet Lady Claire in order to reduce his Rupture enough. Maybe he would become the trigger for her meeting another man, finally freeing him to go back to Rayna. And therefore, by not meeting her, he was trapping himself in the past, doomed to run out of time.
It was why a month later, he resolved himself to attend the first ball of the Season after the Peace Celebrations, hosted by the Duke and Duchess of Hattington—a very close school friend of Dominic’s.
Except when the night actually came, he felt sick to his stomach. So much so that his family thought he was coming down with something and insisted he stay home and rest.
He still felt horribly nauseous a couple of days later as he thought about the ball his sister, Mary, and her husband, Flyn, were throwing in the evening. He couldn’t get out of attending unless he wanted to face the wrath of his younger sister, now the Countess of Flyntward.
Thankfully, Mother Penny and Patricia had taken the carriage to the Flyntward residence to help oversee preparations, and Dominic had no idea where Art and Solomon had gone, so he was as alone as he could be with a hoard of servants silently floating around the townhouse.
It meant there was no one to bother him as he mentally prepared himself for the evening event. Nor anyone to question why he was lying on cushions in front of the library fireplace, his coat and neckcloth missing, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and paths of tears streaked across his nose.
At least he was alone until the library door suddenly burst open at the end of the room his booted feet lay facing. A ruckus of male voices and heavy footsteps streamed in.
Dominic startled up onto an elbow and quickly scrubbed a hand over his face, swiping away the evidence of wetness under his eyes.
When he glanced towards the intrusion, Candreas was standing to the side of four men in black, grey, and navy half dress, two of them still wearing gloves, all of them in polished boots.
They stared at him with varying degrees of confusion.
“Thorney,” Raven, the Marquess of Ravensaw, said, his ruby-red eyes narrowed in amused curiosity. “What the deuces are you doing down there?”
Heir to the Westbridge Dukedom, Raven’s silvery-brown hair, ruby-red eyes, and arrogant grin gave him the air of a fictional villain who seduced innocents with sweet words.
While he’d never been that kind of scoundrel, Raven had, in fact, scandalised the ton with his rakish ways.
But if there were anyone to prove reformed rakes made the best husbands, it was Raven.
He loved his wife dearly but still spent his time scandalising the ton with how openly he loved her in public.
“I was resting by the fire,” Dominic muttered, sitting upright.
“Really?” Flyn, his brother-in-law, said, his green eyes sharp behind his spectacles. “Rather looks like you’re moping.”
The Earl of Flyntward was a stern man who’d stuck to the rules of propriety with severity until Mary challenged them four years ago.
Though since their marriage, and in the two years they’d had their son, that sternness had melted away significantly.
But fatherhood had given him an annoying perception that usually turned out to be accurate.
“I am not moping,” Dominic grumbled.
He had in fact been doing just that.
On the other side of Flyn, Bentley, the Duke of Hattington, had been Dominic’s best friend since school.
He’d also lost his father at a young age, but the previous duke had been abusive, so Bentley hadn’t mourned his death very much.
His heart had been hardened as a result, but since marrying his older sister’s friend, laughter lit up Bentley’s brown eyes often.
Then there was Brandon Severin, a midnight-blue-eyed wealthy industrialist, who seemed innocently charming at first until one realised Severin had convinced them to sign away the entirety of their wealth to him.
He’d tried to do it to all of four of them at one of their clubs when they’d first met him, but now they all considered him a loyal friend.
Dominic eyed the group of men. “Why have you all barged into my library?”
“We are your friends,” Bentley said, walking forward, and the other three followed. “We will bloody damn barge in whenever we please. Especially when you do not show your face at any of our clubs upon returning to town, nor turn up when invited to a ball.”
“I apologise,” Dominic muttered, averting his gaze away. “I was under the weather.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Bentley offered a hand. “Get up, would you?”
Dominic clasped his friend’s palm and pushed himself up as Bentley pulled.
Once he was standing, Severin grabbed his other arm. “Sit down so we can have a word with you.”
“I am not particularly in the mood for talking,” Dominic said, but he let them push him down into the armchair that matched the three cushioned settees facing each other.
“Then do not talk,” Raven said, taking a corner seat as Severin sat next to him.
“Hamilton, lock the door and come here.” Candreas did as he was told, then Raven waved in Dominic’s direction.
“Tell us why you think your imbecile of a master has been acting bizarre ever since he disappeared for a week. And no need to mince your word. You’ll be family soon anyway. ”
Candreas spluttered out a cough into his fist, his cheeks going tomato red. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I do not know what you mean.”
“Bollocks,” Raven said dismissively. “Now go on. Tell us. Why is Thorney sulking?”
It took a moment for Candreas to gather himself, though the flicker of his lashes clearly suggested he wished Raven would elaborate on the family comment.
“I cannot say with certainty, my lord,” he answered.
“But I can confirm the whole household is…worried. His lordship has…” Candreas shifted on his feet.
“He has offered me funds on multiple occasions, and it would seem from his other actions that…”
“Spit it out,” Severin encouraged.
Candreas cleared his throat. “It would seem his lordship is either ailing and may possibly be preparing for the worst. Or…he is planning to leave.”
Four heads swung from Candreas to Dominic.
“Well?” Bentley said with Flyn next to him. “Which is it? Are you dying or are you leaving?”
“I’m not dying.”
“So you are leaving?” Flyn asked. “When? And why? Have you informed anyone? Mary? Lady Norland? Solomon, Art, Lady Patricia? Do any of them know?”
Dominic’s gaze fell to the dark wood table in front of him. “No, I have not informed my family yet. Nor do I know when or if I can leave.”
“But why do you wish to leave?” Severin said. “Are you being threatened? Is someone after you?”
“I am the one who is after someone.”
All his friends, even Candreas, puffed out their shoulders like war-ready warriors.
“Who is he?” Bentley demanded. “Let us help you get to him.”
“She,” Dominic corrected with a wistful smile.
Bentley blinked dumbly, then whipped around to glance at Flyn as if he were confirming he’d heard correctly.
Raven chuckled. “What is wrong with you, Thorney? Why on Neves are you after a poor wench?”
“Exactly,” Severin said. “Leave her alone. Neves knows whose hands she’s already suffered at. And what exactly has she done that you’re trying to leave to find her?”
Raven’s ruby-red eyes shone with love and sympathy.
“I am learning more from my pretty, expectant wife every day how hard women have it in this world. It is not fair that she must suffer from a bad case of swollen feet. One day, that woman you are after might have swollen feet too. Think of that, Thorney. Have some mercy and leave her alone.”
A puff of tired laughter shook Dominic’s shoulders, Severin’s lips curled in disgust, and Flyn was practising a moment of fatherly patience as he pinched his nose under his spectacles.
“You are bloody chuckle-headed, the both of you,” Bentley ground out and threw a hand towards Dominic. “He’s not going after her to hurt her. He is in love with her!”
“What?” Raven exclaimed in laughing delight.
Severin clapped his hanging jaw together and groaned. “Not you too.”
Dominic’s friends had had different reactions to hearing that he’d lost his heart.
“Why the bloody woods are you sulking here for?” Raven had snapped. “Go after her now.”
“Love is a fool’s game, and you’ve turned yourself into a fool, Norland,” Severin had grumbled. “I mean, look at you. You are falling apart. Forget her and save yourself from this nonsense.”
Whereas Bentley and Flyn had asked more questions, taking the pragmatic approach of trying to understand why he had to leave for the most part to be with Rayna.
Yet, all of them, even Candreas and, reluctantly, Severin too, had encouraged him not to let her go if that was what he truly wanted. And that encouragement had reignited his motivation to overcome the impossible.
Dominic had walked into Mary and Flyn’s ball that evening with Mother Penny and Patricia on his arms, his head held high, and tentative confidence pumping through his blood.
He hadn’t been clueless to the whispers behind fans and subtly probing questions.
Everyone in attendance was wondering if his withdrawal from society the previous Season would extend to the new one too.
But he didn’t let it bother him as he played the poised marquess and proud big brother to the hostess as he talked his way through the crowd of guests.
Right up until the entrance of Lady Claire Ermina and her father, the Earl of Greymond.
His heart and stomach had both tried to flee his body upon hearing her name, his feet wanting to move with them. But as if she’d known he’d try to escape at some point, Mother Penny held his arm in a surprisingly strong latch.