(Oscar Salem,) Goodness, [ DOMINIC O'CONNOR] has arrived! [ HE] is [ 35] , of the [ IRELAND] [O'CONNORS], and a [ MARQUESS] . They are [ RETURNED ] to England and the season and their family holds the [THE MARQUESS OF DOWNSHIRE ]. This author has heard they are [ ADVENTUROUS ] but also [ ARROGANT ]. Accompanied by [ THEIR FAMILY ] , there is much talk of their arrival and accepting calls but be warned: I have heard they [STUBBORN ]! (Lorna, ooc age, ooc pronouns, 31, GMT)
WANTED CONNECTIONS || FACE || TASKS
Basics -
NAME: Dominic O’Connor, Marquess of Downshire
FAMILY: O’Connor family
ROLE IN SOCIETY:
Sexual Orientation: bisexual
Date of Birth: August 18th 1779
Languages: English, French, Spanish, Irish
Appearance-
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Tattoos/Scars: A small scar on his torso from when he was a teenager, a medium scar on his forearm
Positive Trait: Ambitious, Adventurous, Diplomatic
Negative Trait: Scheming, Manipulative, Stubborn
About-
Since he was born, Dominic O’Connor knew he’d be the lord of his house. As a child, he was raised as the future head by his mother and maternal grandfather, but he didn’t understand the full weight of it. In his youth, before Eton, Dominic spent all of his time in Ireland at his grandfather’s insistence. If he were to be the Marquess, they wanted their people to familiarise themselves with the future lord, even when he was just a boy. When his brothers came, Dominic was thrilled, but that was cut short. As they grew up, Dominic watched as his younger brothers were allowed to misbehave without consequence, while he was held to a higher standard. Any mistake, he was reminded that everything he did was reflected upon two powerful legacies, the O'Connors and the Kleypas family. Dominic loves his brothers, but he often feels separate from them. He’d been groomed his entire life for leadership, and Dominic learned that affection and duty were never separate in the eyes of both sides of his family.
At eighteen, the ninth Marquess of Downshire passed away, and Dominic was made into the tenth Marquess of Downshire. Grief had sharpened Dominic as he made the transition from heir to lord. Society watched when he spent his first social season as a marquess, with everyone pushing their sons and daughters his way. Despite his title, Dominic’s unreachable high standards were enough to turn most away from him and focus on his younger brothers. Dominic quickly learnt that his title wasn’t what would gain him respect; he had to do that himself. He had to control every aspect of his life to stop himself from spiralling under the weight of both legacies. Those who had endured him in his first few years as a marquess commented on how the young marquess sacrificed his warmth for authority.
When his mother, Lady Edith, passed away, the family retreated to their estates in Ireland. Over the years, the Kleypas Press had dwindled in influence, but they all knew it was because of the rise of Lady Whistledown. In want of a partner that meets his standards, Dominic is back in London. Now, he wants a partner in life to continue the legacy; he also wants to regain his family influence once more.
"It is nice meeting you Lord O'Connor." It surprised him, how this man was the first to intruduce himself with his title, rather than his first name. He looked to see his bodyguard not far off and chuckled. "I am crownprince Gustav of Sweden," He made a proper bow. "Alas I have yet to meet someone blessed in this beautiful town, who could show me a portrait of their children, it seems like the marriage market is still very much active which I suppose to be a good thing." He was searching for love rather.
Formalities as titles and ranks were given with introductions, especially during the social season. Dominic and his family had been away for too long; he’d thought it best to remind people of his standing. “Pleasure to meet you, your highness.” Dominic offered the prince a bow, but he wasn’t impressed. Royalty wasn’t everything, but they still deserved his respect. "There've been a few weddings lately,” Dominic laughed, "so everyone is pairing up.” Even if it were to people in a lower social standing. Dominic expected more from his match. He’d made up a list of requirements, and no one had met them yet. “Mr Edgar O'Connor", Dominic said with a sigh, “He’s an artist at heart, so he sees the world differently to most.”
There was a twinge in her chest that she knew all too well at his words. Only he really knew what she was truly capable of. That tutoring was nothing compared to her talents. But Ceara didn’t allow herself the idea that she could do that by his side, hear his boasting about her for the rest of their lives and vise versa. She nearly grew sick with the shame of such a thought, knowing it never would have happened. “Absolutely not,” she answered, cursing herself for her honesty. “Just private tutoring until I open a school of my own.” She could only handle other people’s children for so long before she had to escape to find solitude.
His despondent nature on the topic rightly pissed her off. He’d never been pig-headed, quite the opposite, though it was all she could think to describe this conversation. But she schooled her tone and expression, coolly assuring, “There are many newcomers in town. Perhaps set your sights there.” Ceara didn’t respond verbally to him when he spoke again, only humming until her face changed at his continued curiosity. What did he mean by that? “Yes,” she lied. “Should I be here for something else?”
Very few people impressed Dominic. He’d never say when they did, but his actions would. He’d grow more curious about the person, asking questions about their interests or skills. It had been that way with Caera when they first met. Right away, Caera’s cleverness was something that had pulled him in. “Good,” he said, smiling genuinely for the first time since their reunion. “Being a governess would be a waste of your talents.” He’d remembered her dreams. The school she wanted to open and the minds she wanted to teach. A governess wouldn’t have been suitable for a woman like Caera.
Dominic always knew what had been expected of him. He’d marry a respectable person and continue his family line. He had brothers, but Dominic’s grandfather had been clear in his expectations. Dominic was the one born from Daniella, so the line would run through him. His match as the head of the household was imperative; it would be a successful one. “If Lady Whistledown’s picks of the season are to be believed, I’m doomed.” He laughed. The thought of his brother's ex being the pick of the season felt like a joke. “Some people have delusions of marrying above their stations,” Dominic sniggered. They couldn’t really be blamed. A viscount’s brother married a printer. An earl’s daughter was marrying a dock owner. It was desperate and embarrassing. “I thought you’d be one of those sharing those dreams.”
“That’s an ambitious thing to seek a distraction from. I’m going to tell you now that I don’t think you’ll succeed. You're from a known family, you're a Marquess, there’s money to your name and you also have two eligible brothers plus yourself. I don’t think anyone could distract from all of that and you’ll be swarmed upon by everyone available. I'd say you already have someone in mind, keep a mystery and it might dissuade some people.”
Her eye followed where Dominic pointed and she saw the Barnett family. She’d heard about the fall out between the Barnett and the O’Connors and felt bad for the girls involved. “None, I’m afraid. I haven’t spent much time with them but it was quite out of the blue, the news of her engagement and to the richest man here. When I’ve seen the two around they look affectionate with each other so I think it can’t just be a business arrangement. Are you looking to destroy them?”
Dominic wasn’t opposed to marriage. He knew it would happen sooner or later, he just expected more to choose from. “I don’t have anyone in mind,” He said with a heavy sigh. “Only a list of requirements for a match and no one has met them yet.” Dominic didn’t need a titled spouse. He had his own legacy to continue, but he needed someone suitable. Someone to match himself, or his standing either with wealth or reputation. London, it appeared, was out of options.
He’d considered going after Elizabeth’s match, but the time needed wouldn’t be worth the pay off. Mary and Frederic were separated and new money only lasted so long. Dominic needed to be patient, but that wasn’t ever one of his virtues. “No, they aren’t worth my time,” He shrugged. It sounded harsh, but it’s how he saw it. The Barnett’s were all but washed up and a sudden influx of cash would go as quickly as it came. “I just question the speed of things. I didn’t know they’d been courting for long before the announcement.”
location: St James' Street, leading up to Brook's Gentleman Club, late in the evening
status: open
Lysander had hoped the later hour would prevent people taking much notice of him - for once, he didn't wish to be perceived publicly. The shiny, purple bruise beneath his left eye was less than ideal to be presenting to polite company, after all, and he knew he would have to get creative with the reason for such an injury. Admitting that his visit to his cousin hadn't gone to plan wasn't an option.
As he walked briskly down the street towards his club, temper steadily rising the more he dwelled on his situation, he ignored those around him mostly for his own self-preservation. However, someone didn't seem to observe nor understand his body language, because the fool approached him far too casually.
"Apologies," he gritted out in his best polite tone, wary that he was still in public view (and earshot), "but now is not a good time for idle chat, I'm afraid. I have important matters to attend to." Important matters, otherwise known as the fancy bottle of scotch in his desk drawer.
Dominic was furious and annoyed. Lady Whistledown was delivered first thing this morning, and in it, she’d declared his brother’s cast-offs as a diamond. If this was the state of London, Dominic was starting to worry for his own matches. He didn’t want to travel abroad to find a spouse, but if any of the Barnetts were the best England had to offer, maybe he was doomed. To top it all off, Edgar had spent a small fortune at Brooke's, but their accountant wouldn’t sign over any funds without Dominic’s approval. He was in a mood when he saw the owner. With a heavy sigh, Dominic approached. “They are matters that relate to me,” Dominic said, his frustration clear. “My brother overspent in your club, and I have his debts to settle.” Being the head of the household wasn’t an easy task, but it’s one Dominic took seriously. All of his brothers had gotten away with too much; now it was time to bring them in order. Gambling a small fortune wasn’t something Dominic approved of.
"yes, a //coward//" Bertie repeated. He was never afraid to tell the other man what he thought- He figured the man enjoyed it. He'd say whatever he wanted...He'd give the other man a piece of his mind. "A lot of things gave me that idea...." He grumbled under his breath. Coward is what Dominic is. "Do you really want me to list it? " He kept his hand on the lining of Dominic's coat. He gently let his thumb go along the fabric of it. He hated losing, and he wouldn't back down either. He sees his gaze on him, but he doesn't let his own eyes wander over Dominic- He didn't want him to be satisfied by it.
"And yet you find it so annoying..." He smirked. "I remember seeing your papers being sold still when hers were sold out," He said offhandedly. “Shame...what good does your paper do when she does it best?" He could see it written all over Dominic's face that he was affected by his words...He gave him a stern look. " My mind does just fine with 'lost men...Lord Tobias does well. He even knows what he wants and takes what he wants. " He scolds him as if he's a child." Do not speak when you don't know. It's a pitiful look on you."
"//fine//" Bertie echoed back mockingly. He raised an eyebrow at him, not believing him... "Now... that's not a word you'd use in the past. I remember you'd speak how //fantastic// it used to be...not the case anymore?" He's almost taunting him. He felt his breath hitch when it was Dominic who had moved closer to him. "Well, they are busy...It doesn't mean anything..." He really didn't doubt his friendships- No, that was old Bertie. "I use them for companionship, m' lord. Do you know what that is? " He asked.
Dominic couldn’t help himself but grin at this interaction. Bertie assumed he had the upper hand, and he did for a bit. Dominic knew that to evoke these reactions meant that he would always win, because that’s what he wanted. He wanted to push, to get a reaction, and this was it. “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” he said, with a sly smile. “List them if you’re brave enough.” It was a dare. Whispered and smug, but still bold. “Or does the fact that you’re enjoying my touch distract you?” He whispered, enjoying this push. Even with all of this, Bertie still knew how much his paper meant to him. Lady Whistledown monopolised gossip. She’d made a fortune out of it, but Dominic’s mother didn’t want to copy her. She wanted the paper to remain as is, but Dominic wanted to move with the times. “Is that what you enjoy?” He asked, in a mocking tone. “Lost men that use you as a distraction?” Dominic wasn’t lost. He’d just been resistant to his impending role in the world, and Bertie was the distraction.
“I have standards now,” Dominic shrugged, taking a deliberate step back. He’d let Bertie occupy his space long enough; the last thing he’d need was gossip facing his direction. “Standards that very few have met.” Standards and requirements for a future. He needed a spouse and children, but no one had met his list of requirements yet. His mother said he was too harsh, but Dominic wouldn’t relent on a quality match. “I’m aware of companionship,” he laughed. “I’ve had my fair share, but companionship isn’t permanence. Are you happy being temporary?” His question was meant to be cutting. Dominic didn’t care, not when he knew he could push people to their breaking point, or close to it.
You'd think, after so much time in England, JunHo would know his way around London...But instead, he spent more time lost than actually finding what he wanted. If only he had Aera or Tim; they knew London better than he ever could.
He found himself near hyds park. It's too busy for him to figure out where he's going - how anyone manages these busy streets is beyond him. He wanted a quiet place and a book to read. Yet he found himself here and nowhere near Harrington Books.
He couldn't ask anyone for help, no, a confident man like him knows where he's going and doesn't ask for help. even if he turned the wrong direction twice already....
He's sure it's written all over his face that he is lost...even if he’d never admit out loud. His eyes scanned the area with a slight scowl on his face. "Heaven's sake," He mumbled under his breath as he slightly kicked a rock on the ground.
Dominic had spent the morning entertaining potential suitors. He’d had ice cream with a lord’s daughter and a cigar with another’s son. Now, he found himself wondering why he’d agreed to a stroll in Hyde Park with a debutante who couldn’t stop talking about her ribbon collection. He felt like his mind would explode out of boredom. When he saw a fellow gentleman lost, he silently thanked the lord. He’d made his excuses and left the debutant with her mother, saying he’d had business with a friend. “Do you need any help, sir?” He asked, approaching already feeling light with freedom. “You look lost, and I was wondering if I could help?”
Maybe it was the fact that she came from a not so noble upbringing but high society somewhat scared her. She felt horribly out of place in soiree's and she knew that a lot of the old nobles openly mocked her when they knew what house she belonged to. But, she had tough skin and wasn't going to show the pain she felt in front of anyone else. Right now, though? She was winning bets at a local pub and making a decent profit. "This is kind of sad with how well I'm doing" she said as she sat down at a table, "I kinda want a challenge now"
Dominic had been besieged with invitations. He’d attended a tea party two nights ago and other soirees that melded into one in his memory. At every one of them, he’d heard the whispers as he’d walk by. The Marquess of Downshire had returned, and likely he’d be in want of a husband or wife. It was true, but they didn’t know that Dominic had high standards. A local pub wasn’t really the place for a marquess, but Dominic didn’t come for the ambiance. He’d just finished a private meeting with one of the barmaids. A dalliance, of course, but Dominic needed stress relief. He hadn't sat down long when someone else approached. Dominic listened, but he observed the stranger. Her clothes were a giveaway that she was from a good family, but her behaviour didn’t indicate that. “A wellborn lady in a public house", he stated flippantly. “Isn’t that a challenge in itself?”
"What a magnificent little pet you'd be but alas, birds are meant to fly in the sky free." Gustav said quite enjoying the way a bird was tweeting in a tree. When he saw the bird had chicks his heart swelled with joy, especially when the parents were teaching the lil ones how to fly.
"what is nature, beautiful is it not?'' he asked a bystander who was potentially eying what caught his eye. "the circle of life or how do they say, truly inspirational." That was simply how Gustav was, enjoying the small things in life. Enjoying whatever it was this earth had to offer.
"Pardon me, I have yet to ask your name, I was simply distracted by the joy of parenthood. Do you have any children, or is that too much of a forward question? Well, I shall introduce myself first, My name is Gustav."
Nothing in London compared to Ireland. Dominic missed the gardens of Hillsborough Castle, the trimmed yews and the murmuring fountains. It was peaceful, whereas London was chaotic. Even now, a leisurely walk was disturbed with idle chit chat that Dominic had found frustrating. “Lord O'Connor", He greeted with a tip of his hat. “But as to your question, no, I don’t have any children.” Nor did Dominic particularly want them yet, but they were a need. He needed children to continue his line, but for that he needed a spouse. He had a list of requirements for a spouse, but no one had stood out as suitable amongst the crowd. Love didn’t factor into his choice. All Dominic needed was someone impeccable, but he was starting to think that didn’t exist.
“You sound like my brother." He laughed. The way the gentleman spoke of nature is how Edgar had tried to describe his paintings. Dominic never understood it. He’d find himself in the gardens when he needed a moment, but he’d attributed that more to needing an escape than anything else.
The laughter did not wipe the smile from Mary's lips, carefully composed in its calmness and cruelty. " Perhaps you need to check again where you receive your gossip, or maybe not believe everything you read or hear, for I assure you, that is not the truth. Hopefully you are not putting such lies in your paper. That would be unfortunate indeed. " Truth be told, she had her own apprehension about Peter, ones that have only grown since Whistledown's issue which mentioned him, but if he truly was to be their family, Mary would have to defend him to others. Especially to the O'Conner family. The last thing that she wished was for her older sister to have her ruined the way that this man had done to her. It took even more effort to keep herself collected as he sat beside her, Mary tearing her gaze away to look to the passing people promenading. At his prying, she held out her book, offering for him to take it. " Of course I still read your family paper, I read anything and everything I can get my hands on. " As he kept going, though, Mary finally felt herself cracking somewhat, a chuckle, cold, empty slipped from her mouth.
" An acquaintance. How charitable of you, my lord. " She exhaled, trying to push away her laughter. " Well, I have never been one to care much for what if's and would have beens, but I suppose I can amuse you, would-have-been-dear-brother. " She let her gaze fall to him. " I have been flourishing on the shelf, embracing my ruined reputation with enthusiasm as I stop playing pretend that I would have made a wonderful wife and have been enjoying spinster life. " She said plainly, as though she as talking about the weather. " I have been reading, writing, and aiding my sisters in the path of securing them successful, wonderful marriages. I am happier and more content than I have ever been. " And if he told Frederic that... Well Mary was trying not to think about that, for she still loved him, and she selfishly hoped part of him still loved her. She quieted somewhat, though a smirk still remained on her lips. " But you are right. I do want to know how I would have lived and those who were to be my family are faring. Tell me then, how are they? How are you? "
It wasn’t easy to persuade Frederic to end the match. Dominic had tried everything; he wanted his brother to see that he was too young for marriage. When he learnt the news about the Barnetts' finances, it was perfect. Dominic painted them as fortune hunters, and Frederic was the easier prey out of the O’Connor brothers. With his mother’s strong assistance, the match was dissolved. Dominic knew it wasn’t good form to publish the end of it, or their finances, but it needed to be permanent. “Is Mr Drake not massively wealthy?” He asked, pretending to be surprised. Of course he’d known the finances of Peter. He’d hired people to look into him when the match was announced. “You of all people should know I only print facts in my paper.” It was that same paper that had almost ruined her, but Dominic didn’t feel bad about it. He’d protected his brother after all. Dominic took the book, barely examining it. “Do you read the travel excerpts from Frederic?” He asks, smug smile and all.
Flourishing on the shelf. That sentiment made it impossible for Dominic to hold his sniggering. He was proud of his family, of their history, and he couldn’t comprehend someone not missing what could’ve been had they married into it. Frederic would be happy that Mary was happy, but all Dominic would report is that she was content being a spinster. Maybe he’d throw in a false suitor or two to prevent his brother from reaching out. “Frederic is well,” he said, not as boastful as before. “He’s been travelling, of course. I hear he liked Greece, but if that’s the scenery or the women there, who knows?" He says, deliberately flippantly. “Edgar has his paintings, and I have the paper. We’re doing well, but that’s all to be expected.” He shrugs. Their mother had been pressuring her sons to find a match, to settle down. Her main aim was to continue the legacy and have a few grandchildren secured – legitimate, of course.
Curse him and his questions, she thought. She didn’t trust him at all. What was his goal in feigning any sort of curiosity about her life? He had no right to that. But she straightened her back and lifted her chin. “I am,” she answered, just as boastful. “More in-house tutoring than proper school teaching.” Ceara was always proud of what she did. How it impacted the children she taught, the pride her parents always expressed in their letters to her. It almost made all the pain and anger worth it. Almost.
Something in her flared realizing she would be seeing him more often than not, even if in a passing glance on a busy street. It made her stomach lurch. She didn’t laugh at his joke but she offered a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure she will be receiving them from a pretty flower of yours soon.”
She knew it was bitter and sarcastic but there was no other way to speak to him.
Ceara’s mind was something Dominic had fallen for first. Yes, she was a beautiful woman, but there was more to her than that. Dominic shook such thoughts away. He wasn’t at all surprised that Ceara had managed to find work in London. The great families of England wanted only the best, and she was one of the best tutors. “Are you a governess?” He asked, genuinely surprised. “If you are, I’m sure that’s a bit of a waste of your talents.” A governess was a fine profession, but unmarried ladies had that as a last resort. He couldn’t have predicted that for her future.
Dominic wanted to say that his words weren’t said for intentional hurt, but he didn’t completely believe that. Once, he’d convinced Ceara that she would be part of his future. Now she was practically a stranger. “No one has piqued my interest yet,” he said with a dejected sigh. All he needed was someone from a good family. He’d wanted a great family, but Dominic knew things weren’t as easy as that. “But it’s still early on.” And his brothers were returned. His family was rich and titled, something of a rare commodity. “Is it just work that you’re here for?" He asked, unsure why the question came out of his mouth.
"Well, whose to blame?" Bertie asked him with a scowl. He moved closer to him with a frown. "To think if you weren't such a coward, I would still find those demands tantalizing," He leaned forward a bit to fix the rim of His collar, letting his finger tip graze over the other man's skin." Do not talk about my lord like that." He never would have felt that urge of loyalty with any nobility before. If anything, past Bertie would have mocked and joked with Dominic about it. "I do not need any pity because he's my employer,” My tells him as he lets his hand go along the collar before letting it go down the rim of his suit jacket. He's a flirt still, and maybe it'd distract the other man enough.
"Hm, can't she be both? bold and desperate…." He's finally getting some of his bearings, even if his buttons are pushed." But it seems she's doing something right for being so bold and desperate. People are reading her paper.…oh.., right how is your newspaper goin' again?" He asked in a way to make sure he realized how little he thought of it." No, I don't think you would…you were never the type to admit anything," he rolled his eyes. He frowned even further. "I'm not friends with someone because of gossip, Sir," He tells him. "I use my gossip for my friends. It's not used against them."
There wasn’t anything like this in Ireland. In Downshire, they’d all been apprehensive to speak to Dominic so boldly, so honestly. Bertie didn’t care, and there was something about it that Dominci liked. Maybe it was the brash honesty. “I’m a coward?” He asked, laughing. “I’d love to hear how you came to that assumption!” Dominic’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it’d become bigger. It’s like this was a game he’d longed to play. Dominic didn’t flinch when Bertie grazed his skin. It was like a challenge to see who could push each other. Dominic hated losing. “I’ve read the sheets,” Dominic scoffed, deliberately letting his eyes linger over Bertie. If the man was this close, Dominic knew he’d also be watching his every move. “Your lord is lost. A man of your mind doesn’t do well with lost men, do they?”
Dominic’s smile, his whole demeanour, paused for a moment. He’d not expected Bertie to hold his punches; he just didn’t expect it’d hit that hard. “My paper is doing fine,” he scoffed. It wasn’t a lie. It was doing well, but it wasn’t as popular as Lady Whistledown. His mother complained about it every day, but did nothing about it. No, like everything in the family, it’d been left for Dominic to fix. “And yet you stand here without a friend." Dominic moved closer now, leaning in under the pretence that he was getting a sweet spot just behind Bertie. “What do you use them for?” Dominic asked. His breath could be felt on Bertie’s neck, and Dominic knew this. Every move of his was deliberate.
All evening, Nalan had heard those around him speaking of the infamous return of the O’Connor sons, all equally as handsome as they were rich and well-connected. A marquess was nothing to scoff at, but Nalan needed a match for his sisters and that was simply too high for him so one of the other brothers would do, untitled and rich, there were worse matches around.
“There is no favor needed for my assistance and if we are speaking long enough, those wanting to force a potential match upon you will not do so, to be polite of course and not interrupt two gentlemen having an important conversion.”
Nalan did not hesitate in trying to cement something with the marquess, but a favor was something anyone could have, something short term but what he needed was something that would last a long time and a friendship with a marquess was a beneficial thing to have.
“I hear you are newly returned with two of your brothers, I share your pain but I am returned with two sisters. We should be each other’s refuge should either one need it, younger siblings can be tiresome can they not?”
Instantly, Dominic was cautious of this man. He’d learnt long ago that no one helped for nothing. There was always a price to pay for anything. Clever and cunning people were people that Dominic liked to employ at his paper, not ones he’d like to socialise with. Right now, Dominci didn’t know if that was a fitting description for the man who had assisted him. “No,” he said, his smiling remaining. “I’d insist on repaying the favour sooner than later.” Dominic never took his eyes off the man. A stranger offering assistance so readily was never one to be trusted.
“Is that what you require?” Dominic scoffed, not mincing his words. Speaking in riddles and beating around the bush was a massive waste of time. Now that he looked at his saviour, Dominic had an educated guess. A man dressed in expensive suits, with two sisters on the marriage market. It was obvious he was Nalan Das, someone Whistledown had written about. “My brother’s matches are my own business,” he stated forwardly. “I appreciate you’re eager for a match, but I want someone of higher standing.” Dominic didn’t care how that sounded. If a Barnett wasn’t good enough for his brother, then neither was a Das.
“There’s always a distraction if you look hard enough or are you someone who is quite particular on what distraction he wants? I find that some people who want something like that are more open.” The comment about Whistledown was interesting. She thought she read something in his reaction but without knowing him, she couldn’t be sure at all. “I was going to suggest trying to find out one of the secrets for the game but now I’m thinking if you want a distraction, how about we make some up?” She doesn’t wait for his answer and looks around, nodding subtly at one of the guests. “Let’s see…I’ll say their secret is that they have difficulty finding shoes to fit because one foot is much smaller than the other. See how they drag their foot when they walk? It could be true!”
Dominic paused. He’d not considered what forms of distractions were wanted, only that he needed one. “Anything will do,” he said, laughing into his drink. “Maybe safe harbour from fortune hunters.” London hadn’t changed in his absence. Everyone still hung on the words of newspapers or gossip sheets. Now, it’s the word of Lady Whistledown that held weight. Secrets were more of a currency than titles; those who held them didn’t know how to use them. Dominic wanted that. He wanted the secrets, the knowledge of everyone. It’s how London operated, and he wanted it all.
“Making up our own, now that sounds interesting.” Dominic turned, following Marie’s direction. He looked at the guests' feet as if he were any sort of show expert. “I’ll believe you in this case.” He laughed. Dominic turned to where the Barnetts stood, and a smirk came across his face. “What of them?" he asked, nodding in their direction. “The eldest will be married soon. Have you got any secrets about her?” Dominic was responsible for the Barnetts' downfall. The last time his newspaper held any weight. Somehow, the Barnetts survived that, and they’d be due to be back on track soon. Back in society’s good graces. Pride wouldn't let Dominic sit idly by while that happened.
