When his knock upon the pair of double doors at the front of the house was not answered, with a sigh he made his way to the rear of the house. Not only, he reflected, did the Seymour place appear unkempt, but it seemed that they also did not keep a proper amount of servants either.
At the back of the house, he cast a jaundiced eye over the untidy kitchen garden and the few scrawny hens in a sagging pen nearby. Seeing the small brick building which was set some distance from the main house, he approached it with a quickening step. Surely someone would be in the kitchen!
Someone was. This time his knock upon a door was answered by Ada, her hands covered with flour and an expression of impatience on her shiny black face. She was not welcoming, and a brief conversation elicited the information that Miss Seymour was not there (where she should have been, Ada informed him roundly, helping with the baking) but that she could be found at the stables. His reservations increasing with every moment, Dominic walked in the direction indicated by Ada, but his interest in meeting the eccentric Miss Seymour was piqued—none of the ladies he knew would ever be found in either the kitchen or the stables!
Miss Seymour, presently hard at work raking and shoveling out one of the large box stalls which had been recently built to house the new mares, was not thinking about Mr. Dominic Slade in the least. But that wasn't to say that her interest in that gentleman hadn't been piqued too. During the days that Dominic had spent at Oak Hollow, Josh had been able to ride over to Willowglen only twice and he had been careful not to overplay his cards with regard to Mr. Dominic Slade. Beyond his initial conversation with Melissa he had kept Dominic's name to a minimum, only mentioning the fact, on his second visit, that he was staying with them and that he was quite a horseman... and that he too was thinking of setting up his own stud farm at a plantation named Thousand Oaks, which it just so happened was located less than two days' ride up the river. Wasn't that a coincidence! Who knew—he might even consider purchasing Folly for his own stables!
That information had not sat well with Melissa, and she had been aware of a feeling of great resentment. How dare this stranger ride into their midsts and decide to set up in competition to her! Not, she admitted ruefully, that Willowglen was much of a threat to the newcomer. But it rankled, as did Josh's comment about selling Folly. She would never sell Folly and certainly not to some upstart, encroaching mushroom who might very well sabotage her fledgling attempts to establish her own stables! Irrationally, she even held his wealth and handsomeness against him. It just wasn't fair for one person to have been so generously endowed by fate! But she was curious about him and, to her shame, every time she had left Willowglen the past few days she had been secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of this paragon riding about the countryside. She wasn't, however, prepared to find him in her own stables—especially not when she was hot, dirty and sweaty and was holding a shovelful of horse, er, droppings in her hands!
One moment she was bent over her task, longing for nothing more than a cool drink of water and a long, leisurely swim in the creek just over the hill, and the next she was spinning around to stare at a tall, handsome stranger. A stranger, she thought with a sudden, inexplicable tightening in her chest, who could only be Mr. Dominic Slade.
Coming in from the bright sunlight, Dominic took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom of the interior of the stable. He had been relieved to see that at least in this area some attempt at upkeep had been made, but he was strongly of the opinion that when he finally did view Folly he was going to be extremely disappointed. It was inconceivable that the horse he was searching for would be found in this place of genteel poverty, and he was convinced that someone was enjoying a jest at his expense.
Seeing signs of movement at the rear of the stable, he strolled in that direction. "Excuse me," he said as he came closer, "but could you tell me where I could find Miss Seymour?"
Unbearably conscious of her dishevelment, of the ugly bun sagging at the back of her head, of the spectacles sliding down her sweat-slick nose, of the shapeless unattractiveness of the gown she was wearing and of the shovel filled with horse manure in her hands, Melissa wished violently that she were anywhere but here. The fact that Dominic was nattily attired in a superb-fitting jacket of blue superfine—a jacket, she noted crossly, that did nothing to disguise his broad shoulders and wide chest—didn't make her feel any better. With something between resentment and unwilling admiration, Melissa noticed the pair of buff breeches that clearly revealed the muscled length of his long, well-shaped legs and the pristine white cravat which only called attention to the dark, handsome features rising above its neat folds.
It was, she thought, unfair for any man to look as Dominic Slade did, to have such thick, curly black hair, such long, luxurious eyelashes, such beautiful gray eyes and a mouth... Melissa swallowed with difficulty... a mouth that made the most erotic thoughts flash through her brain.
Appalled by and furious because of her reaction to him, she glared at Dominic and said, "I am Miss Seymour." With Uncle Josh's warnings about his libertine ways ringing in her ears, she decided that the sooner he was out of her barn the better. "Just who do you think you are, walking in here this way?" she asked rudely.
It was quick wits that prevented Dominic's mouth from falling open in astonishment. Not only did her appearance surprise him, but her hostile attitude caught him off guard. Surely, he thought stupidly, this unfashionably tall and scrawny creature in a deplorably fitting gown squinting so fiercely at him above a pair of ridiculously large spectacles could not be the Miss Seymour of Josh's descriptions! But it was her attitude that caused the polite smile to fade from his lips and the gray eyes to lose their usual good-humored glint.
Not in the best humor himself after his interview with Josh, and not at all pleased with what he had seen of Willowglen so far and most of all, not at all used to being greeted in such a fashion, particularly by the females of the species, Dominic asked with insulting disbelief, "Miss Melissa Seymour?"
Vividly aware of the frightful picture she must present, her shabby gown sticking unpleasantly to her back, through gritted teeth she got out, "Yes! Miss Melissa Seymour!" Confident of his identity but wishing to be positive, she asked, "And you are...?"
She wasn't the least surprised when Dominic said flatly, "Dominic Slade. Your cousin Royce and I are old friends, and I have been visiting at your uncle's plantation for the past several days."
"And—?" Melissa inquired, not about to fall victim to the perfidious charms that Josh had warned her about. But, to her dismay, that didn't stop her from wishing irrationally that she were wearing her best gown and that her hair were newly washed and curling about her shoulders!
Dominic's mouth tightened. What an ungracious witch! Resisting an urge to turn on his heels, he said grimly, "And, I have heard of a horse that you apparently own—Folly, a bay stallion. My brother Morgan saw the animal race in the New Orleans area several weeks ago and he was impressed by his speed and appearance. If you are agreeable I would like to see the horse with a view to purchasing him."
A gust of unreasonable rage swept through Melissa. After all she and Zachary had been through, after all the dreams they had shared, how dare this—this—popinjay speak so confidently of buying her horse! How dared he come uninvited and unannounced into her stables with his fine clothes and arrogant airs and act as if anything he wanted would be instantly forthcoming! She was dimly conscious that part of her hostile reaction to him was caused by embarrassment at being caught garbed as she was, and it didn't help her temper one bit for her to know that it was her own fault she looked as she did. Still, it wasn't just the awkward situation that prompted her hostility. There was something about the tall, darkly attractive gentleman standing in front of her which aroused an inexplicable animosity—and she never took instant likes or dislikes to anyone! He was far too handsome, she thought savagely, and far too confident and sure of himself.
A little ashamed and shocked by her uncharacteristically churlis
h reaction to a perfect stranger, but heedful of Josh's warnings and determined to get rid of Dominic immediately, she snapped, "If it was only to see Folly that brought you here, you have wasted your time as well as my own. Under no circumstances will I ever consent to sell Folly—not for any price you might care to offer!"
Thinking that Miss Melissa Seymour was one of the most unappealing, ill-tempered shrews it had ever been his misfortune to meet, Dominic nodded curtly. "Then I would say that we have nothing more to discuss." With a derisive gleam in his gray eyes, he glanced at her shovelful of highly aromatic manure and drawled, "I see that you have much more, ah, important things to do, so I shall not waste any more of your time."
He took another long look at Melissa, his gaze moving slowly over the pulled-back hair of indeterminate color, the old-fashioned spectacles and the pinched mouth as he wondered cynically if it was common knowledge that Josh and Royce were mentally deficient. A beauty? Ha! If this was their idea of a beauty, it was obvious that they both should be shipped to England for a stay at Bedlam!
Shrugging his broad shoulders at the strange quirks in human nature, he was about to turn on his heel when from the front of the stable a voice called, "Lissa! I've brought a jug of lemonade. Do you want some?"
At the sound of her name, Melissa left off considering dumping her shovel of manure on Mr. Slade's highly polished boots, and a warm smile suddenly spread across her face. "Oh, Zack!" she cried in a far nicer tone of voice than Dominic had heard from her yet. "How did you know that I was longing for something to drink?"
Her brother laughed, and with a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and two glasses in the other, Zachary approached. Glancing at Dominic, he sent him a friendly smile and said, "Hello, you must be Dominic Slade."
It took Dominic a moment to register that he was being spoken to—he was still reeling from the fascinating change a smile made on Melissa's face. With an effort, he tore his eyes away from the delightful dimple that had appeared near her suddenly not-so-prune-shaped mouth, and looking at Zachary, he said politely, "Yes, I am." A faint expression of puzzlement showed on his handsome face as he asked, "But how did you know that? I don't believe that we have met."
Zack grinned. "Uncle Josh," he answered succinctly. "He was quite eager to tell us of his impressive visitor."
Dominic laughed, liking this young man. "I would hardly call myself impressive, but then neither would I want to shatter your illusions."
Melissa's spinsterish expression returned and since she was not at all pleased with the way the two men were being so amiable with each other. "Well, you won't shatter mine, Mr. Slade!" she cut in sharply.
Ignoring Zachary's shocked "Lissa!" she put the shovel down perilously close to Dominic's booted foot. Her voice dripping with dislike, she said, "And since you were just on the point of leaving, we won't keep you any longer."
His smile fading, Dominic gave her a cool nod of his dark head. Deliberately turning his back on her, he sent a friendly glance toward Zachary. "Since it is obvious that I have come at an inconvenient time," he said to Zachary, "perhaps you would be so kind as to join Royce and me at the Whitehorn tavern in Baton Rouge tonight for dinner... we thought it would be a pleasant change to escape from the petticoats for a while."
Throwing his sister a defiant look, Zachary replied quickly, "It will be my pleasure, sir! What time do you suggest that I meet you?"
The two gentlemen, oblivious to Melissa's glowering figure, decided upon a time, and without another word or glance in her direction, Dominic sauntered out of the stable. Though he left Willowglen behind, that wasn't to say that the sharp-tongued Miss Seymour had vanished from Dominic's thoughts. Quite the contrary. He was convinced that she was everything unpleasant that he had first suspected and there was no doubt that she was a termagant of the worst sort, but he was... he was, he admitted reluctantly, intrigued by her. Of course, he told himself cynically, it was only her oddity that intrigued him. Yet when she had smiled... when she had smiled he'd had a fleeting hint of the beauty that Josh had been babbling about. But those clothes and that hair! Not to mention her waspish attitude! Shaking his head, he guided his horse toward the Manchester plantation. She was certainly a novel female.
Her fiat refusal to even let him see Folly had angered him as few things had done in his life. While he had originally entertained only mild hopes of adding the horse to his stables, the unexpected and unwelcome setbacks he had received of late, specifically Miss Melissa Seymour's actions, had suddenly made him perversely determined to own the animal. She wouldn't sell the wretched horse at any price? Ha! He was going to buy her damned Folly and make her eat her words! One day very soon, Dominic vowed, Folly would be his, and it didn't matter very much to him just then if he paid a fortune for an unsuitable animal—he would have the great satisfaction of having bested Miss Melissa Seymour!
With just a hint of regret, he admitted to himself that his careless invitation to Zachary had been prompted as much by the unworthy impulse to annoy Miss Seymour as by a very real desire to further his acquaintance with the young man. He had liked Zachary on sight, something that couldn't be said of his feelings about Miss Seymour, but whether he would have sought out Zachary's company without the added pleasure of irritating Miss Seymour remained to be seen. Still, he was looking forward to the evening, and when he later mentioned Zachary's addition to their private dinner to Royce, Royce was pleased.
"An excellent idea—I should have thought of it myself," Royce said as they walked from the stable at Oak Hollow where they had met. "Zack needs to get out from behind Lissa's skirts more. She tends to hover over him."
A glint in his gray eyes, Dominic began with mock wrath, "And speaking of 'Lissa,' would you mind telling me what in the hell you are playing at? I do not mean to offend you, but if your cousin is your idea of beauty, then I strongly suspect that you, my dear friend, have been rusticating here in the wilderness far too long!" Pretending to shudder, Dominic went on. "What a sharp-tongued vixen! She terrified me! And a dowdier, more unappealing creature I have never met!"
Having heard from his father about Melissa's changed appearance, Royce smiled enigmatically. "Ah, but there are hidden depths to Lissa."
"Very well hidden," Dominic retorted, losing interest in the subject for the time being. Then, recalling that he had another bone to pick with his friend, he asked with deceptive mildness, "Would you like to explain to me why you went along with your father's deceit about the horse?"
"Oh, that!"
"Yes, that!"
Royce shrugged. "I couldn't very well betray my father, could I? Neither could I call him a liar in front of you. It seemed simpler to let events run their course." Sending Dominic a limpid glance, he finished, "You were never in any danger of any kind, and it seemed a harmless situation."
Dominic snorted, but he was willing to let it rest at that. However, as they entered the house he said, "For the present, it appears that Folly is out of my reach, and since I have spent several days longer than I had expected in this area, I'll be leaving for Thousand Oaks in the morning." Slanting a glance at Royce walking beside him, he asked, "Would you care to come with me? I cannot be sure precisely what sort of welcome we shall receive, but I'm certain, knowing my brother, that Morgan would not employ slovenly servants—even if he has not laid eyes on them in years!"
Royce looked thoughtful, but after a moment's pause, he accepted Dominic's invitation. "Why not? Things will be somewhat dull once you leave."
Dominic laughed and they parted to change for their dinner at the Whitehorn. But when Dominic reached for an elegant dark blue coat with gilt buttons, his good humor vanished as he reviewed the afternoon's events. Miss Seymour, he decided, carelessly shrugging into the form-fitting coat, needed to be taught a lesson about the inadvisability of treating Dominic Slade so insolently. And, by God, he was going to enjoy teaching it to her.
Chapter 6
Dinner that evening at the Whitehorn was most pleasant. Dominic had
requested the use of the only private sitting room, so the three gentlemen were undisturbed by other patrons of the establishment.
Dominic's initial liking of young Zachary Seymour was reinforced and he wondered, not for the first time, how this charming young man could have such a shrew for a sister. Listening to Zachary enthuse over a yearling colt that his stablemaster, Etienne Martion, had just convinced Melissa to purchase made Dominic smile, and he was reminded of himself at the same age—horse-mad and confident of his own ability to pick a goer!
They had finished their meal, an excellently done loin of beef, and were at present lingering over French brandy—smuggled French brandy. The conversation turned from horses to current affairs, namely the notorious pirate Jean Lafitte and his haunts off the coast of Louisiana.
Setting down his snifter, Dominic observed, "I suppose we should be thankful for Lafitte and his smugglers—if it weren't for them, we wouldn't be drinking this brandy. But it does bother me that our governor, Clairborne, seems unable to deal with the Baratarians. He tries his best, but no one really seems to want the smugglers stopped." Picking up his snifter once more, he continued, "I confess, though, that it occasionally worries me that Lafitte has such a well-armed group of pirates at his command. If the English were to enlist Lafitte and his men..." Dominic's voice trailed off. Soberly he finished, "God knows how much damage they could inflict upon Louisiana."
Royce nodded. "At least, General Jackson was successful at Horseshoe Bend and we no longer have to fear the Creek Indians attacking and pillaging at will as they did at Fort Mims last summer. I, for one, am glad the general can now bring his forces to bear against the British."
His eyes glistening with excitement, Zachary blurted out, "By Heaven, I'd like to see the British try to attack Louisiana—they would have a fight on their hands!"
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