Furious at him now, Brie snatched the blanket up and gave Dominic a glare that would have pierced him had it been a sword. Dominic merely grinned at her, admiring the flashing green sparks in her eyes. "What a pity no one thought to enlist your services during the war," he remarked provokingly. "One look like that from your beautiful eyes would have routed the enemy without resort to cannon. I imagine you could have intimidated Napoleon himself."
Brie clenched her teeth. "You are beyond all doubt the most uncivil, boorish, arrogant, conceited, odious man I have ever had the misfortune to meet! Why don't you just go away and leave me here? I can find my way home without your help."
Dominic went to the fireplace and began sorting through their various apparel. "I told you before," he replied, tossing Brie's clothes to her. "It isn't safe. I don't want you wandering these woods alone."
"You don't want—well, really!" Brie exclaimed, her voice heavy with satire. "What more could possibly happen to me?"
Dominic slanted an amused glance at her. "You're asking me that?" Fortunately for him, he was able to avoid the boot she threw at his head.
Chapter Seven
The arrival of an earl in their quiet neighborhood, especially one of Dominic's stamp, was cause for awe and excitement. Brie tried to ignore the furor—indeed, she would have preferred to forget that Dominic existed altogether—but no one would allow her to do so.
John Simms in particular had taken an immediate liking to Dominic. John had been waiting for Brie in the stableyard when Dominic had escorted her home after the storm. Fortunately, he had been too interested in Dominic's stallion to ask many questions about where she had spent the past few hours. When the two men fell to discussing horses and bloodlines, Brie made her escape. She found out afterward that Dominic had promised to return at a later date to inspeet several of Greenwood's Arabian mares. John was in such alt over the prospect of breeding the mares to the stallion that for days he could talk of little else.
Caroline, too, spoke of Dominic frequently, for she had seen him accompany Brie back to the house. She had nagged until Brie was forced to give a much abbreviated account of what had happened at the cottage, and then she had asked so many questions that Brie didn't know whether to scream or throttle her cousin first.
As far as Brie could tell, though, not even Caroline guessed that she had been far more intimate with Dominic than was proper. Oddly enough, she trusted Dominic's assurances that he would say nothing of what had occurred between them. And she was no longer concerned that he would ruin her reputation with a careless word. But whatever she remembered letting him make love to her, she felt hot with shame.
She couldn't understand how it had happened. He had aroused a traitorous desire in her when properly she should have felt fear and revulsion. The feel of his hard body had been exciting, and what he had done to her own body had set heron fire. When he had kissed her with such passion, she had surrendered to him like a common hussy. Brie was disgusted with herself, particularly since she still harbored a strong attraction for Dominic.
About a week later, however. Brie was given something else to worry about. Her steward, Mr. Tyler, reported that there had been several thefts in the neighborhood, two of them on Greenwood land. Brie decided to pay a visit to Squire Umstead to see what was being done to apprehend the thieves, since the squire frequently handled such matters.
Brie took her cousin along and shortly regretted the impulse. When they arrived, they found Squire Umstead out with a shooting party, but his wife was at home and she insisted on meeting Caroline. Brie could hardly refuse an invitation to stay for tea, but she cringed inwardly when Mrs. Umstead sent a footman after her son Rupert.
Enduring half an hour of Rupert's company set Brie's nerves on edge. She was relieved when the squire at last returned home, even though her plan of speaking to him in private was forestalled because Viscount Denville and Lord Stanton were with him.
Brie felt intensely self-conscious, meeting Dominic again, for it was the first time since their intimate interlude in the cottage. Seeing him enter the room, she was again struck by his extreme masculinity. He looked impossibly attractive in a claret-colored shooting jacket and buff breeches. The collar of his shirt was opened comfortably at the throat, while a silk scarf was tied loosely about his neck. Brie found the casual touch strangely appealing, but it was his sheer maleness that made her stomach flutter. She knew first hand that his muscular body was every bit as lean and hard as it appeared.
Trying not to remember how it had felt pressed against her, Brie lifted her gaze to his and caught the amused gleam in his gray eyes. Realizing then how intently she had been studying him, she blushed.
She introduced her cousin to the squire, but when the conversation momentarily turned to travel, she found herself being drawn aside from the others by Dominic. When he complimented her on her becoming appearance, she glanced up at Dominic suspiciously. She knew her empire-waist gown of pale peach muslin was stylish and flattering to her figure, but his words seemed to imply something more.
Dominic smiled at her obvious mistrust. "Come now, Miss Carringdon. That was not meant as a criticism. I was growing accustomed to your unique mode of dressing. But I must confess I prefer to see a beautiful woman looking like one, rather than a man.
Brie arched a disdainful eyebrow. "Must you? I expect it is fortunate then that I don't require your approval."
"Ah," he said, shaking his head ruefully, "I can see that I have offended your sensibilities once more."
"Nonsense," Brie snapped. "I find it pleasant to have my femininity questioned by a gentleman who is noted to be an expert."
His laughter was maddening, and so was the way his gaze slowly swept her figure. "I never doubted that you are a woman, chérie," he drawled in a low voice. When his eyes met hers in an intimate, caressing glance, Brie felt a shiver run down her spine. Unable even to think of a reply, she turned away to join the others.
For the remainder of the visit, Brie tried to behave as she normally would, but she was far too conscious of Dominic. She couldn't help stealing a glance at him from time to time as they all sat drinking tea and eating finger sandwiches. Not by so much as a flicker of an eyelid was he revealing the boredom that he surely must feel in such unsophisticated company. In fact, he seemed to be putting himself out to please, conversing easily with everyone, including Rupert, and displaying a considerable amount of charm with the ladies. Not that that surprised her. She knew to her cost exactly how charming Dominic could be when he wished. But his infuriating mockery was far less pronounced today.
And that in itself was irksome. She realized now that she had overreacted to his comment about her appearance. He had simply been being polite, but she had taken offense where none was offered. What was it about Dominic Serrault that made her behave like a shrew? She didn't exactly possess an even disposition, but she had never been so churlish with any other man. She couldn't seem to curb her temper or her tongue whenever she was near him, even when he wasn't behaving outrageously or being deliberately provoking.
Brie's thoughts were so occupied with Dominic that she paid little attention to the flirtation her cousin was waging with Julian. It also was some time before she recalled the purpose of her visit and could capture the squire's attention to request an audience.
She would have preferred to do so quietly, not wanting to attract Dominic's notice or advertise the fact that she had something so unfeminine as business to discuss, but she wasn't successful. Squire Umstead—a short, stocky man with a florid face and balding head—was blessed with a good deal more sense than his son, but he was not big on subtleties. He loudly and cheerfully agreed to discuss the thieves with Brie in the library, and invited Julian as well. As they left the room, Brie saw Dominic's raised eyebrow, for the squire was already talking about how one of his dogs had been killed.
Their conversation didn't last long. Immediately afterward, Brie collected Caroline and made her excuses, not caring to be subjected
to Dominic's penetrating gaze any longer.
Shortly, Julian and Dominic also called for their horses. As they rode back to the Lodge, he satisfied Dominic's curiosity as to the subject of the discussion.
"It seems there has been some trouble in the area," he explained. "Evidences of poaching, a tool shed broken into— that sort of thing. The squire thinks it is probably some wandering gypsies, although he hasn't been able to catch the culprits. One of his tenants had a gun stolen. I've offered to help join in the search."
Dominic frowned. "This all just started a few days ago?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"Jacques listens well. Not much escapes his attention."
"Your coachman?" Julian asked in surprise. "I realize he used to aid you in your nefarious activities across the Channel, Dom, but why the devil is this any of his business?"
"I told him to keep an eye out."
Julian grinned. "So you've set him to spying. What does he do, give you a daily report?"
Dominic returned a cool glance. "Jacques seemed to think the incidents unique enough to concern me—and I have a feeling he may be right."
"Well, he's always seemed a shady character to me, but I know the trust you put in the fellow."
"I do, and I would appreciate it if you would let me handle this, Julian, in my own way."
Julian eyed Dominic curiously, then shook his head. "Oh, no, you don't, my friend. I won't be fobbed off with this talk of appreciation. I would think by now you would trust me enough to give me some sort of explanation, preferably the truth."
"It would probably bore you."
"Unlikely. I know that closed-oyster look of yours. I have no doubt you're hiding a secret that would make any adventure of mine look tame in comparison."
Dominic's mouth twisted wryly. "Very well, but it's a long story and this is not the proper place."
Assuming a wary expression, Julian peered suspiciously at the trees beside the lane. "No one listening that I can see. But perhaps you require a dark alley on a moonless night?" When he received a sharp glance from Dominic, Julian held up a hand and grinned. "A poor joke, I know. All right, a cognac and a fire in the library will do just as well."
Julian bridled his curiosity, but it was much later before he had an opportunity to ask Dominic any questions. He had invited several of his friends to the Lodge for supper and cards, and the game lasted long into the night. It was only a few hours before dawn when Julian showed his guests to the door.
Retuning to the drawing room, he added another log to the fire and refilled his wineglass, then settled in a comfortable chair and stretched his legs out before him, just as Dominic was doing. Both men watched the flickering flames in the hearth as Dominic proceeded to tell in clipped tones about Germain's return and the duel they had fought.
"I always thought one day your past would catch up to you," Julian said at the conclusion. "You made enough enemies among the French government to staff an army." He chuckled, remembering some of the stories he had heard about Le Poignard—Dominic's alias. "The Dagger," he translated. "The very name struck terror in the hearts of men. No, seriously, Dom, you were outstanding as a spy. I've heard both Castlereagh and Wellington sing your praises. But this man who hired Germain to kill you—surely he couldn't be connected with your spying activities. The war has been over for years. It seems unlikely he would have waited until now."
Dominic sipped his brandy, his thoughts seeming far away. "Did I say man? It could be a woman, for all I know. But you're right. It makes no sense, either way. Why would someone want the deed to the estate my father owned before his death? Whoever employed Germain knew about the deed and wanted it badly. It must have been even more important than killing me, otherwise Germain would never have resorted to showing his hand. Interesting, isn't it?"
Julian pursed his lips thoughtfully. "And you think these incidences of theft and poaching are related to what happened in London?"
"They could mean nothing, but then again, I've learned to be cautious. Germain is my prisoner for the time being. According to the message I received from Jason yesterday, Charles is still delirious with fever, but the chances of his recovering are improving. Until I can question him, I don't expect to learn much, but it is still possible that whoever hired him has one or two more ideas up his sleeve, including sending one of his assassins after me. Jacques tells me the rumors don't put the blame on anyone local."
"So you want Jacques to investigate."
Dominic sighed. "I want, my friend, to give him some time to find out whether this trouble is in anyway connected to me. He won't be able to if the whole neighborhood is alerted to his activities."
Julian nodded. "Very well, I won't interfere. But we'll have to have some reason for delaying a search. I doubt if the squire would mind having the problem taken off his hands and he would probably swallow a good story, but you won't find Brie so gullible. You had better tell her the truth."
"Not a chance. The fewer people who know about this, the better. Besides, I don't like having women involved. Even if they can be trusted, they only get in the way. I'll think of some other way to handle the lady."
Julian grinned. "I'd like to see it."
Dominic slanted him a glance. "I suggest you concern yourself with her cousin. Now there's a scheming female for you."
"Caroline? You must be joking."
Dominic's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Not a joke, my friend. A warning. She has quite an advantage over an unsuspecting fellow such as yourself. How does marriage appeal to you? For, if I'm not mistaken, that is Miss Langley's aim. And you, Julian, will be fool enough to let her tie you hand and foot and lead you to the altar before you realize you've been trapped."
"Lord, Dominic, Caroline is just a girl. I've known her for years."
Dominic smothered a yawn with his hand. "They teach them young these days. How old is she anyway, seventeen, eighteen? Old enough to marry, at any rate. I would imagine that right now, pretty little Caroline is having pleasant dreams of becoming a countess and planning how she will spend your fortune before you even inherit it."
Anger lit Julian's blue eyes, but he kept his voice even. "If Caroline seemed friendlier than usual today, it's merely because she's recovering her normal high spirits. But, however did we manage to get on this subject? If I had to guess, I'd say your jaundiced view stems from Denise Grayson's arrival this afternoon. You're aware, of course, that she chose to honor the Scofields with her presence?"
Dominic's lips twisted in a frown. "Fully aware. I received a note from Denise informing me of the fact. I can't say that I'm pleased. Did you know she intended to visit?"
"I? Not at all." Julian grinned at him. "You do seem to have a large following, Dom. First assassins and now your ex- mistress. Your visit is proving to be extremely interesting. Of course it's nothing to me if Lady Grayson decides to try her hand with you again, but I wonder what the rest of the world will make of it. People will probably think she's here at your invitation."
When Dominic scowled into his glass, saying nothing, Julian rose. "Well, it's late," he said, stretching, "and I for one' am going to retire." He crossed the room, but turned back at the door. "You know, Dom," Julian said quietly, "I cannot agree with your opinion of Caroline. And I didn't care for your remarks about her."
Dominic's eyes narrowed as he looked up. "The warning still stands."
"Don't you have enough to concern you without adding my troubles to your list? I believe I can be counted on not to play the fool."
Dominic's mouth twisted in a cynical smile. "Can you? Perhaps you don't remember what condition you were in when we first met in Vienna. You were so blinded by Brie Carringdon's charms that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face."
Noting the cold gleam in his friend's gray eyes, Julian realized it was pointless to argue. Dominic believed that love was a mental illness. "I'll not deny that I loved Brie," Julian replied, "but that was quite another matter." Then, as he turned away, he
added softly, "I pity the woman who finally engages your affections, Dominic. I expect you will make her life hell."
Julian's words seemed to linger in the air, even after he had gone, but Dominic's mind wasn't on what his friend had said. He finished his brandy, hardly noticing the warmth of the liquor on his tongue, not even seeing the glowing coals he was watching so intently. His thoughts were wrapped around a flaming haired vixen, just as they had been countless times during the past few weeks.
He knew if he were wise, he would stay away from Brie. Indeed, he should never have gotten involved with her at all. But making love to her once had only whetted his appetite for more, and he seriously doubted he would give up his pursuit of her.
It wouldn't be easy to succeed with her, especially since Brie seemed determined to avoid him. But given time, her proud defiance would crumble. His biggest difficulty would be keeping a leisurely pace for her taming. He had never found it so hard to curb his impatience. Dominic smiled wryly. It would be much simpler if he owned a castle in the wild where he could hold Brie captive, for he could have her then, with or without her consent. Unfortunately he lived in a more modern time, and he was civilized enough to want his women willing.
Yet, now he had additional complications to deal with. Brie had chosen, however unwittingly, to become involved in a situation she did not understand. He would have to insure that she became uninvolved.
And then there was Denise Grayson. Denise could not have appeared at a more inopportune time, Dominic thought sardonically. He quite sincerely wished her in Hades, but he knew he was at fault for bringing about the situation. When they had parted in London, he had seen no reason to tell Denise he merely had taken advantage of her availability. He hadn't expected her to follow him—although he might have foreseen it. Denise was always a woman with an eye out for an opportunity. She had probably deluded herself into thinking there was a chance to renew their old affair. Well, Denise would just have to be disillusioned—before she could cause trouble for him.
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