Chapter 4

In the grand chambers of his residence, Dominic stood before a looking glass, contemplating his reflection. An uncharacteristic sense of anticipation and apprehension lingered in the air around him as he prepared for that evening's dinner party. He was usually much more indifferent to such occasions, seeing them as nothing but chances to expand his social circle and improve his standing in society.

However, that evening was different. The reason behind his meticulous attention to detail continued to elude him. The only thing he could consciously realize was his desire to present himself in the most impeccable light.

Staring at himself in the looking glass, adorned in a tailored evening coat and a crisply starched cravat, he methodically adjusted every single element of his ensemble. Everything had to be perfect. The gleam of his polished shoes, the sheen of the finest fabric and the sparkle of his pearly whites—nothing short of perfection.

Indeed, any other lady could have been a fit. Not a perfect one, but a fit, nonetheless. The will his father left stated its conditions clearly. Dominic was to be married until he reached the age of thirty, after which, everything that once belonged to the name of Fairhaven would be divided among numerous cousins and relatives, leaving Dominic with just a title, that in itself, would serve very little.

And now that he was already nine and twenty, Dominic knew he had no time to waste. He had used up his days on fun and games. Now, he had to take responsibility for his dukedom. And strangely enough, Lady Catherine titillated him enough to want only her to fit that role.

Now, only one thing was left. He fastened the buttons of his coat, and suddenly, he found his thoughts wandering to Lady Catherine. The mere memory of her presence only seemed to fuel an inexplicable determination to leave a lasting impression on her. He was certain that it was simply due to the fact that she had the audacity to refuse yet another dance with him, when any other lady would have considered herself beyond fortunate to have been given the chance for it.

"It's the intrigue she brings," he mused loudly, grinning at his reflection. And he was right.

Because an hour later, his small, carefully selected assembly of guests was seated at his dinner table, and there she was, intrigue embodied. In the way she smiled, glanced at everyone and simply sat there, looking like an otherworldly goddess.

"No, no, it was Lord Livingstone who had called the constables when it happened," one of the guests clarified a story that Dominic was not even listening to. He was too busy staring at Catherine, unable to take his eyes off of her.

She was dressed in a gown that exuded timeless elegance. The fabric, although simple enough, cascaded in graceful, shimmering folds around her perfectly silhouetted body. The delicate embroidery only added to the sophistication that mirrored the lady herself.

Her hair was styled with equal elegance, framing her face to perfection. He couldn't help but notice her beautiful green eyes, alive with intelligence and a hint of mischief, as she sat there in peace, silently holding the secrets of a thousand conversations.

"… don't you think so, Lady Catherine?" One of the guests had addressed her directly, and instead of withdrawing, Lady Catherine shone.

"Well, it depends really on one's perspective," she replied, continuing to explain her own point of view on the matter. "The horse is an animal with a mind of its own, but it is the rider who needs to assure that the animal feels safe."

Dominic couldn't resist interfering. "Lady Catherine, I trust you've experienced the exhilaration of a proper horseback ride through the countryside? It is a pursuit quite fitting for those of refined taste."

He wondered if she would get upset over this question. Some ladies would be. Yet his own dirty mind conjured up a different sort of… horseback riding. He wondered how utterly ravishing she would look, straddling him instead of that horse, as his own hands rested on her plump behind. He almost grinned, revealing himself, then her voice reminded him where he was.

"Your Grace," she spoke softly and melodiously, "I have. And I also consider it a pleasure not reserved solely for the gentlemen of the ton, you know."

He feigned surprise, leaning in with a teasing smirk. "Oh, forgive me, Lady Catherine. I didn't mean to imply that such pleasures were exclusive. But surely… the nuances of proper horsemanship might escape the fairer sex?"

She raised her eyebrow in a playful challenge. "I assure you that I am no stranger to the art of riding. In fact, my brother can vouch for my skill."

Dominic turned to Reginald, who was eagerly listening to the conversation. Reginald smiled before replying. "I have stopped racing with her a long time ago. It is no fun. She always wins!"

His answer caused an avalanche of laughter on part of the other guests, but Dominic didn't laugh. He was merely smiling, his eyes locked with Lady Catherine's. He wondered if he could make her blush again, like he did during their dance at the ball.

"You see, Your Grace?" she continued, almost victoriously. "The subtleties of guiding a horse are not lost on me. In fact, I do believe that sometimes, a woman has a gentler hand, and an animal can sense that, giving itself more easily. A kind word opens more doors than an order, wouldn't you agree?"

He wasn't sure how much he agreed with that. Conducting business with gentlemen who believed they were all more knowledgeable than him sometimes required of him to put his foot down and issue an order, instead of reaching an agreement with everyone. However, he was certain that her kind words would open any doors.

"A point is proven through actions, not words, Lady Catherine," he continued, delighting in the way he managed to capture her attention and keep it all to himself. He almost felt as if there were no other guests but her.

She chuckled. "You don't mean to say that I need to prove my riding skills this very moment?"

He shook his head mischievously. "Not this very moment. Tomorrow is another day, and so is the day after tomorrow."

He caught her there. He could see that she blushed, looking at her brother, then back at him. She didn't know how to respond.

***

She should have known that he would try something like that. After all, wasn't he equally smug and arrogant during their dance? Their glances were charged beyond description, and Catherine found it difficult to navigate the conversation. She could not have foreseen that he would be a master of the verbal duel, who was obviously reveling in the challenge of making her blush.

"I am certain that a man such as yourself has each day already planned out for weeks in advance," she finally came up with the right response, realizing much to her joy that her brother had started discussing some political issues with a gentleman seated next to him, and the other guests also seemed to have paired up in conversations. Unfortunately, that meant that she was paired up with the host.

"Yes, that is true," he mused. "But a man must have some time for leisure. After all, that is why it rhymes with pleasure." He chuckled at his own words.

She wanted to say that she was certain he knew much about pleasure, but she managed to bite her tongue in time and remain quiet.

"And I do find horseback riding to be quite the pleasure, for those who know how to do it properly," he added, hinting at the conversation they had not been brought to an end.

That was where Catherine became aware of a different undercurrent. The duke, although a gracious host who had obviously gone to great lengths to assure that his guests were welcome in his home and treated with the utmost grace, was now revealing more of his arrogance and poor attitude, grating on Catherine's tender sensibilities.

"Well, it seems that you know best, Your Grace," she smiled, taking a sip of her wine, in desperate need of some liquid courage. "I honestly do not see a point in proving something that could never be proven to someone."

"Oh, my dear Lady Catherine," he dared to wink at her. Her eyes widened in shock, quickly glancing around to make sure that no one else was paying attention to them. Fortunately, they were all still immersed in their own conversations, quite enjoying themselves, unlike her. "One must navigate the intricacies of life with a certain level of detachment. You should not take everything to heart."

Her patience was wearing thin, so she was unable to hide her frustration. "Detachment, Your Grace, is not to be confused with indifference. A truly noble soul knows the two are nothing alike."

"I never said I was noble, my dear lady," he spoke more mischievously than before.

She was about to say that she could have easily guessed that, when Reginald interfered, most probably sensing the need to do so.

"How about we momentarily set aside this delightful duel of wits," he spoke playfully. "You know, I recently came across a fascinating account of a scientific expedition to uncharted lands. Your Grace, have you been following the latest discoveries of intrepid explorers?"

For a moment, Catherine didn't think that Dominic would respond seriously to this, but to her surprise, he played along with a most gracious nod.

"Ah, yes… the marvels of exploration," the duke spoke. "I must confess that usually my attention is occupied with more terrestrial matters. Pray, enlighten us, Lord Stanhope." He glanced at Catherine for a moment, then his focus was fully on Reginald. Catherine wondered if this was some sort of game he was playing, but before she could say anything, Reginald took over.

"The last fearless explorer I read about was Captain Amelia Hawthorne, whose adventures in the vastness of the South seas have become the stuff of legends…" Reginald started, but Catherine couldn't keep quiet.

"I wonder if she was good at horseback riding." She eyed the duke sharply as she spoke, but much to her chagrin, he seemed to be amused by her comment, instead of annoyed. "What do you think, Your Grace?"

"Riding the waves could be the same as riding a horse, I can agree there," he smirked. "But do continue, Lord Stanhope. I am eager to hear more of Captain Hawthorne's exploits."

Reginald didn't need to be told twice. He painted a vivid picture of the woman's encounters with unexplored lands, each harboring its own secrets and peculiarities. Catherine listened, but she couldn't stop occasionally glancing at the duke, who in turn refused to look in her direction even once. That made her even more annoyed, as if he had won some unspoken battle they were in, and he knew it.

Instead of escaping the charged atmosphere they were in, it only grew more tense, although to an innocent bystander, everything seemed normal. However, Catherine knew better than to trust that smirk which didn't leave the duke's lips.

Even worse, the man seemed to look twice as handsome with it on, if such a thing was even possible. She tried to focus on the fact how annoyed and conceited he was, yet her admiration for his jaw and deep, dark eyes seemed to pierce through that veil.

Fortunately, the other guests seemed to be immersed in the topic and joined in the conversation, which allowed Catherine to withdraw from it politely, glancing at the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until it would be time to go home. Reginald on the other hand, seemed to fit in perfectly, recounting the tales of other explorers, much to everyone's amusement.

The dinner was slowly coming to an end, and Catherine was ready to go home.

"Won't you stay for another drink?" the duke suggested to them both.

Catherine was about to thank him for the offer then refuse, but fortunately, Reginald decided to do that on behalf of them both.

"We appreciate the offer, Your Grace, but it is getting quite late," Reginald said politely.

"Oh, nonsense," the duke waved his hand dismissively. "There is always time for one more drink."

"Perhaps if I didn't have a meeting with Lord Burlington," Reginald clarified.

Catherine raised an eyebrow. She knew that her brother's meeting was in the afternoon. There would be no need for him to get up early for it. When Reginald glanced quickly in her direction, she understood everything and smiled gratefully.

"Well, in that case, why don't I walk you to your carriage, then?"

The duke's question stunned Catherine. That wasn't a usual occurrence for a host, especially a duke, to see his guests out. That was not his job. Yet, there he was, offering. Catherine placed her hand on her brother's arm gently.

"Oh, no need, Your Grace," she smiled. "You have already been a most gracious host."

"Please," he said, surprising her with the choice of his words, which she honestly thought he was unfamiliar with up until that point. "Allow me to send you away with a better impression than I received you with."