“I’m glad you’re pleased.”
He took in the rest of her. Leaned closer and lifted away one side of her cloak. “ Why are you dressed like that? Gad, you absolutely must not be seen until you’ve changed.”
“It’s my disguise,” she said darkly. “Who are you to be horrified by a disguise, Brother Juste?”
“You intended to go to St. James dressed as a…well…”
“A lady of the night,” she said promptly. “You could have said it without hurting my feelings.”
He choked, but collected himself quickly enough. “Yes, exactly what you said. What were you thinking of?”
There was no point in telling him the idea had not been hers. “I would have blended in very nicely. Don’t tell me there aren’t plenty of other such women there. Oh, I know another name for them. Strumpets. My mama got quite cross with a lady who said a maid at the manor was no better than she ought to be, and a strumpet.”
“I can tell you’re well versed in these matters,” Dominic said. “When I get you inside we shall continue this conversation. We can’t be here like this.”
More was the pity.
He led her back to the opening in the ground, gave her the candle and jumped down first. “Now give that to me,” he said and took the candle from her. He set it aside and held up his arms. “Sit on the edge.”
Fleur shuddered. “You go that way. I’ll go to the front door and say I’ve been to a party.”
His face gave away nothing of what he might be thinking. “Sit on the edge,” he repeated, his deep voice sinking even deeper. “Not another word of argument out of you.”
She did as she was told.
Dominic said, “Lean forward until I can take you by the waist,” and snatched her the moment she did so. “Sit there.” He plunked her, none too gently, on a ledge beside him while he dragged the slab back into place.
They would climb back up to the inside of the house and he would rush her off to her room with orders about how she should behave and what she should or should not do. And he would withdraw even further from her.
And it was stupid because she was convinced he felt something more than duty toward her. He was making her so…Oh, what an awful pickle.
“There,” he said, not looking at her this time. “Go ahead of me but go slowly.”
“I don’t want to go.” Her own words surprised her.
“Don’t be foolish. It’s cold and it’s late and you should be in your bed. Also, that cut needs to be cleaned up and tended to so it isn’t too noticeable tomorrow.”
“I don’t care if it is.”
Dominic took her by the elbow, hauled her to her feet and set her firmly in front of him. “Off you go.”
The instant he released her, Fleur ducked under his arm and sat on the ledge again.
“This is outrageous,” he said. “If you want to be sure I’m angry—I’m angry. Now stop this.”
There might never be another opportunity to be completely alone with him. He was too busy pretending he wanted to be a monk and trying to put distance between them.
“Fleur, are you listening to me? If I carry you it will be over my shoulder. The way is too narrow for anything else. And it’s also low, so the trip may be painful.”
“Put a hand on me and you’ll wish you hadn’t,” she said.
“Good grief.” Head and shoulders bent over, he paced in the cramped space, glancing at her frequently. Then he sat on his haunches and put the candle down beside him.
“I want you to give me some assurances,” she said.
Dominic frowned.
“Tell me you will do your best to think of me as a friend—always.”
“You didn’t need to ask that,” he told her.
“Thank you. You are the best man I’ve ever met. Hard-headed, but dear and—”
“Please don’t go on with this, Fleur.”
“And I shall pray for you and for your safety. Please look after yourself. You think you can solve all the bad things in the world, but if you get seriously hurt—or killed—you will solve nothing.”
He stood again, his head bowed beneath the low rock ceiling. “Enough. You have no need to worry about me. I know how to look after myself and those who need my help. I don’t need your lectures.”
His words stung. “You think affection between a man and a woman is some sort of weakness.” She got to her feet and stood close to him. “What you don’t know is that giving love is a risk. Accepting love is a bigger risk and only the brave can do it well.”
“Damn it. You don’t understand, you little fool.”
“Not fool—champion. I want to be your champion, the one who will always put you first. And that’s what I am whether you want it or not.”
“I don’t,” he snapped. “Now move.”
She slapped his face, hard, and without thinking. Never before had she struck another person like that.
Dominic caught her by the wrist and put her hand at her side. He took her by the shoulders and shook her till she cried out, “Dominic, I didn’t mean—”
He kissed her with bruising force, swallowed her words, sent his tongue deep into her mouth. And he held her head still with his fingers driven painfully into her hair.
Anger and fear drove Fleur. And a wildness while she fought to hold her own with him.
She tasted the salt of her blood on her lips—or was the blood his? Kissing him back, meeting his tongue, nipping at the skin inside his mouth, she clung to him or she would have fallen to the rocky ground.
He ripped off her cloak, let it fall and tossed his own on top. Their rasping breaths mingled and his groans joined the sounds she made and had never heard before.
The cheap dress tore in his hands, ripped apart with her chemise until she felt cold air cross her breasts. The urgency turned to frenzy. Dominic shredded her clothes until she stood naked, but she had done her own damage and his shirt hung from his wrists. She fought with his trousers until he helped her, stripping himself, and all the while staring at her with dark fire in his eyes.
Holding her away he said, “Do you know what’s going to happen?”
Fleur could scarcely draw in a breath. “Yes,” she said, and lied. His body shone in the flickering light. His hair, loose of the tail, swung forward to drive deep shadows into his face, beneath the sharp bones, and to shade the contours of his sensual mouth and arched brows.
He kissed her again, deeply, and stood back a little once more, looking at her, studying every part of her.
His shoulders were wide and muscular. Soft dark hair spread across his chest and grew narrow over his belly. His legs, braced apart, looked as if no force could move them, and she could not imagine any force which might lessen the solid thrust of his manly part.
She raised her eyes to find him watching her, watching him. A slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth and he took one of her breasts in each large hand.
The moment before his face was hidden from her, and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, she’d seen a kind of madness in his eyes. It shook her, but with aching anticipation.
He moved his hands to her bottom and parted the cheeks. He moaned and lifted her, snaking his fingers forward, into the hair between her legs, and over slick flesh that leaped and burned at his touch.
“I can’t wait.” Dominic, his face stark, stared into her eyes. He guided her legs around his waist. “Cross your ankles. Please don’t let me go.” And in a spear of fiery, stretching pain he forced himself up and into her.
Fleur grabbed handfuls of Dominic’s hair. She gritted her teeth and fought back tears. It hurt so, but it pleased her so. Holding her hips he began to move her up and down on his rod. She stared at his face but saw no recognition there. He was not lost to her, but lost in her and she wanted to keep him forever. She didn’t care what the future held. There need only be this.
Faster, he moved and his feverish lips pressed, nipped, sucked each inch of skin they found. Their bodies slipped together
until, with a great heave, Dominic cried out and jerked. He rested his face in her neck and the great panting went on and on.
Fleur plucked at him. Sensations swelled in her until she couldn’t keep still. “Dominic,” she keened, and at last he looked at her with clear eyes.
“Yes,” he said, a statement not a question, and he lowered her to the heap made by their tangled clothing. He remained inside her. “Poor, sweet, beautiful creature,” he murmured, his voice broken.
He put a hand between their bodies, went unerringly to the place where they joined and slid fingers inside her. Once again their rhythm began while he found a spot with his hand and caressed it harder and faster. A shard, a knife, a sweet, sharp weapon struck a divine wound. Helpless, Fleur’s limbs fell from Dominic. She strained against him while searing eddies rushed into her, through her, over her.
“Don’t stop,” she cried to him. “Dominic!”
The sensation broke into waves that left her shaking and weak, but still pulsing. Dominic slumped on top of her, a crushing weight but one she wanted to bear.
Perhaps for only minutes, they drowsed. Fleur felt heavy and sore, but satisfied. Dominic was a large man and her body had stretched to accommodate him.
She drifted, warmed by his skin and flesh on hers.
Darkness made her open her eyes and turn her head.
“Stay still,” Dominic whispered. “I’ll light another candle.”
Light flickered to life again and he sat beside her on their destroyed clothing. With one knee raised and the other leg beneath him, he studied her, stroked her gently, bent to place a light kiss on her lips.
“I failed,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“Failed?”
“To be gentle when I introduced you to love.”
She didn’t know what to think or feel. “That was on my list,” she told him. “I don’t think it applied to you.”
“Yes, it did. I told you that if I were the man in your life, I would be gentle. Regardless, I should have stood by my word and not hurt you. And I did hurt you, didn’t I?”
Lying didn’t help anything in the end. “Yes, but I liked the way it felt. And I played as much a part in what happened as you did.”
“You are young, inexperienced, curious and wild. You’re wonderful. But I know better and I should have controlled myself. Fleur, when did you last bleed?”
Her hands flew to her scalding face and she closed her eyes.
Dominic pulled her to sit up and rested her face against his chest. “These are practical things. But it doesn’t matter. I know what must be done. The wedding will be arranged at once.”
Her head ached suddenly and so severely she pressed at her temples.
“You’re overwhelmed. Of course you are. This is all too much for you to deal with at once. I shall travel to see your father and ask for your hand on Sunday, the day after your ball. You have nothing to worry about. We shall manage well enough.”
If she weren’t so tired and achy Fleur would be angry. She would be furious. She would think up terrible, hurtful things to say to him. But she was all of those things.
Pulling away from him, she searched out wrecked pieces of her clothing from among his and started covering herself as best she could.
Dominic watched her in silence and she felt embarrassed.
At last she swung the cloak around her, grateful for its cover.
“I know how you feel,” Dominic said. He had pulled on his trousers, given up on the shirt but put on his coat and cloak. “You’re overwhelmed. But you will become accustomed to the idea and then you will settle down and be happy.”
“Stop it.” She turned on him. “I’ll be happy because, out of duty, you would marry me? Out of duty you would change the plans you’ve made for your life? And you would never resent what I had caused you to give up, would you? No, you would never feel I had somehow trapped you.”
“No, Fleur, I wouldn’t.”
“You are a gallant man.” She turned from him and started along the passage. “What happened was a mistake, but I shall remember it with awe and I shall not regret what we did.”
“It was just a beginning.” He walked behind her holding the candle aloft.
“It was also the end,” she told him. “Thank you for your kind offer, but I cannot accept it.”
29
“Sounds as if every cart and carriage in London—and every horse—is making a visit to Heatherly this morning,” Lawrence said. He slid another document in front of Dominic for signature.
Dominic signed and said, “That will go on all day.” He glanced up at Lawrence. “You’re all set for this evening? And the others?”
“Yes, milord.” He removed the document again but let it dangle from his fingers while he stared into the distance. “Would it be better not to hold the ball?”
“I’ve thought of little else but that question for days,” Dominic said. “The Dowager points out that there are a number of events this evening and they will all go on as planned. The ton appears to have grown quickly complacent about The Cat.”
“Could it be that his activities add to the general excitement?” Lawrence asked.
“Yes. You were always a man who understood the workings of certain minds. I think there are some who even look forward to more bad news.”
Nathan walked in and an extra dose of ill humor came with him. He flipped back the tails of his coat, slumped into a chair and stared at nothing in particular.
Dominic raised his brows to Lawrence who responded with the faintest of smiles before gathering papers and leaving the room.
“How long did you think you could avoid me?” Nathan said.
“I haven’t been avoiding you.” That was a lie.
“Where were you last night? Whose bed were you in—you were never in your own?”
Neither was I where I wanted to be. He put his elbows on the desk and laced his fingers together. “How did it go for you and Albert?”
“I bloody well asked you some questions first,” Nathan said, his mouth tight, a muscle jerking in his cheek.
Wonderful. Nathan filled with righteousness and criticism. Just what Dominic needed after he’d managed to wreck one life and turn his own into a hell. “It was Fleur who came after us last night,” he said. “When you see her you’ll note the wound on her forehead. She followed us without a light of her own.”
Nathan’s expression changed to one of speculation. “Was she trying to kill herself?”
“Don’t be flippant!” Damn. A man would have to be a rattle not to hear defensiveness in Dominic’s voice. Defensiveness of Fleur.
“You don’t think a person could fall and break her neck in the passages?” Nathan rested his head back against his chair. “If she didn’t have a candle with her, that is? Or even if she did, but she took a wrong step?”
“Of course.” Best be careful what he said until the other, what had happened with Fleur, was taken care of. “She overheard us discussing our mission at St. James and decided we needed her to stand guard. In case we got into trouble we couldn’t handle.”
Nathan blinked rapidly and said, “Now who’s being flippant?”
Dominic opened the second drawer down on the right side of his desk and took out Fleur’s pistol. He held it up for Nathan to see. “Our country parson’s daughter has courage and ingenuity,” he said, replacing the weapon. “And she is too fearless.”
“I would have said reckless,” Nathan said, but he smiled. “I’ll lay odds you didn’t get angry with her. How could you?”
“She was dressed like a whore with a pound of paint on her face and a heart-shaped beauty mark.”
That stole Nathan’s words. He gawked.
“When I got angry with her—you’d lose your wager on that—she insisted she knew there were plenty of whores around St. James and her plan had been to blend in.”
“I’ll be damned.” Nathan gave a low whistle. “Who would have expected her to have the word in her voc
abulary.”
Dominic threw up his hands. “She didn’t—doesn’t. It took her a while to come up with lady of the night and, eventually, strumpet. She is such an innocent, it’s painful.” He caught his breath and looked away from Nathan. Fleur wasn’t an innocent anymore. The passion, the instinctive sensuality had always been there, but he should not have awakened it and must blame his own weakness for their lovemaking.
She had said she wouldn’t have him. At first, after he’d seen her to her room, he’d felt a kind of relief. After all, what were the chances that she’d be with child after one encounter? Then, when he couldn’t face his own bed or even his rooms and he’d wandered the house for an hour, he found he also couldn’t face the thought of having Fleur gone from his life.
He glanced at Nathan and found his brother looking straight back. “What’s on your mind?” Nathan asked. “Something is troubling you.”
Dominic only missed a beat before he said, “It’s The Cat, and this ball we shouldn’t be holding. If you must know, I hardly slept at all last night, I was so worried. I walked the house. Finally got an hour or two on a couch in John’s old room.”
For longer than Dominic thought necessary, Nathan watched him with half-closed eyes. “Last night was a success,” he said abruptly. “It would have been better if you had been with me, but you’ll be pleased. I understand John’s attachment to Albert Parker—the man is solid and, I believe, capable of anything.”
“Tell me,” Dominic said. He got up and went to lean against the front of his desk.
“We went to the gate behind St. James Street—the one where I met you the night you followed Harry. Then we went inside and stayed close to the walls until we reached the building. You were right, it’s a sort of warehouse. Huge.”
Dominic gripped the desk with both hands. “Did he come or go? The Cat?”
“No. And we waited almost three hours. But the boy did.”
“Harry? You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Straight to a door he went, and inside, but not before he lit his candle. He looked better, but his clothes didn’t. Anyway, in he went and closed the door behind him, only there’s a window in the door. Dominic, it’s the strangest thing you ever saw, like a miniature house built inside another building. At least that’s what it looks like. Fancy front door, columns. Only two floors.”
Testing Miss Toogood Page 28
