Unmasking the Duke's Mistress (Gentlemen of Disrepute #1)(22)

Dominic stilled, then set the glass down on the desk without having taken a mouthful.

‘What do you mean?’ He thought of the lengths he had gone to, to keep the transition of Arabella from Mrs Silver’s to his mistress a secret. ‘You did not tell them anything of it?’

Hunter raised his brows and there was a genuine wounded look in his eyes. ‘I hope you deem me better than that.’

Dominic gave a nod. ‘Forgive me.’

‘I do not know how, but the whisper is out about you and the mysterious Miss Noir. People are intrigued by the story. And they are asking questions.’

‘Then let us hope that they find no answers.’ It should not matter if all of London knew that it was Arabella he had taken as his mistress. After what she had done, it was the very least she deserved. But knowing that and doing it were two different things. He knew what the gossips would do to her if they discovered who she was. They would have a field day with the complete and utter destruction of every last aspect of her character.

‘She must be something special that you are taking such a care to hide her,’ mused Hunter. ‘Who is she, Arlesford?’

‘None of your damn business,’ said Dominic and lifted his glass of brandy to his mouth. He wondered what Hunter would say if he knew the truth.

Hunter laughed. ‘Now I really am intrigued, if you are keeping her secret even from me.’

‘Especially from you, Hunter,’ Dominic said as if in jest, but he had never been more serious.

‘I am not such a bastard that I would steal my best friend’s woman,’ Hunter protested and finished his brandy in a gulp.

Dominic drew a wry smile. ‘Knowing your reputation, I am not about to take any chances.’ Better to blame it on that than let Hunter know it was Arabella.

Hunter laughed. ‘She must be something special.’

All levity vanished from Dominic’s face. He tapped the base of the glass against the wooden surface of his desk as he thought of Arabella.

‘She is,’ he said and glanced away.

‘Dominic?’ Hunter probed. But Dominic had no mind to discuss the matter even with Hunter, so he just shook his head.

‘Do not go further, friend,’ he said quietly.

Hunter gave a subtle nod, then smiled, refilled their glasses and raised his in a toast. ‘Miss Noir, long may the ton fail to unmask her.’

Dominic chinked his glass against Hunter’s, but he did not smile. And as he drank the brandy his mind was filled with Arabella Tatton and what it would mean to them both were she to be unmasked.

It was another reason he should not return to Curzon Street. And yet one more reason that did not relieve the compulsion that whispered to him night and day to retrace his steps straight back there.

Chapter Six



‘He did not call upon you again last night?’ Mrs Tatton enquired over the toast. ‘That is the fourth night in a row.’

Four nights during which Arabella’s initial relief at Dominic’s absence was beginning to turn into something else. A niggle of worry that would not be stilled. She nodded, trying to let nothing of her true thoughts show upon her face, and spread some honey upon another slice of toast for Archie.

‘Who did not call?’ asked Archie.

Arabella’s mother met her eyes over his head. The two women looked at one another.

‘Your mama’s friend,’ said Mrs Tatton. ‘Now eat up your toast, Birthday Boy, before it grows cold.’

Archie, mouth filled with toast, started to pretend two of the spoons were horses galloping across the tablecloth.

Arabella felt her cheeks heat from the deception she was weaving, but knew she had no choice. It would all be so much worse if the truth came out.

‘Perhaps if his first visit was not entirely to his satisfaction he has changed his mind over the arrangement.’ Embarrassment flushed Mrs Tatton’s cheeks as she voiced the fear that had been gnawing at Arabella.

‘Let us hope not, Mama.’ God help them if he had, for Arabella did not think she could go back to Mrs Silver’s. But the manner of their parting lent her little confidence.


A knock sounded at the door and Gemmell entered with a letter from Dominic upon a silver salver.

‘Delivered first thing, ma’am,’ he said and left again.

Arabella felt a stab of dread, wondering if it contained her congé.

Mrs Tatton looked on in anxious silence as Arabella opened the letter and scanned its contents.

‘He enquires as to my happiness with the dressmaker,’ Arabella said with relief.

‘Then all is well?’

‘It appears so, Mama.’ As Arabella read the rest of the bold script she could not keep the surprise from her voice. ‘He writes to say that he has given me the use of a carriage and a purse of money to spend so that I will not have to buy on credit using his name.’ She glanced up to meet her mother’s eyes. ‘So no one need know of our…situation.’

Her mother’s eyes widened. ‘He is either a most thoughtful gentleman, or…’ she raised a brow ‘…one who has much to lose if you are discovered.’

As far as Arabella could see Dominic had nothing to lose by her discovery. Indeed, she would have thought he would have been crowing it from the rooftops. A most thoughtful gentleman. Not a description that could ever be applied to Dominic Furneaux. Or so she had thought.