by Carol Finch
"Brazen gamin," he taunted with a low growl. "Don't entice me. With very little persuasion I will whisk you off into the night, forgetting that your grandmother has spent the last few days in frantic preparation for this grand ball."
Rozalyn's expression suddenly sobered, and her lashes fluttered up to critically survey his reaction to her upcoming question. "And what if Grand’mere does press the issue? What if she summons the clergyman and transforms this engagement party into a wedding ceremony?”
Dominic broke stride in the middle of the waltz, and his penetrating gaze bored into Rozalyn's for a long, silent moment. His conscience had already begun to bother him so he felt the need to be honest with her, to tell her what had brought him to St. Louis. The fact that Aubrey DuBois was her father complicated matters. An explanation, poorly handled, could be disastrous. Dominic wasn't certain there was ample time or that this was the proper place for a lengthy account of the events that had led them into this tangled web of deception, but he had not counted upon his maddening attraction to this lively spitfire. Nor had he anticipated that the dowager would hustle them through a whirlwind courtship to the threshold of wedlock. Dammit, it wasn't that simple!
His conflicting emotions were mirrored in his eyes and his lengthy silence caused Rozalyn's spirits to drop a notch. As doubt clouded her mind, she began to wonder if she had assumed too much. Dominic seemed reluctant to wed her. Rozalyn silently laughed at the irony of life. For the past three years she had been constantly hounded by men who would have leaped at the chance to wed her and her father's fortune. Now the tables were turned. Dominic had offered no binding commitment. He had only confessed that he loved her. Why had she taken him so seriously when she had been cynical of such professions in the past?
Perhaps she had allowed this affair to move too quickly. She must not let Lenore maneuver her into marriage, for it would break her heart to learn, too late, that Dominic had no intention of offering a lasting love.
Slipping from his encircling arms, Rozalyn strolled toward the refreshment table to seriously contemplate the matter. If it truly was marriage Dominic wanted, then he would have to suggest it. She had always been a bit unconventional, but she was not about to ask Dominic for his hand. Perhaps he desired only to be amorous until his fascination faded and he fell out of love. That prospect frightened Rozalyn. She knew she had found a man who matched her in spirit, but Dominic was much more worldly and experienced than she. His philosophy of love might be quite different from hers.
Silly fool, Rozalyn chided herself as she swallowed her pride along with a sip of punch. Guard your naive heart or it could well be broken.
But, confound it, she didn't want to hide her emotions. She had been forced to keep them bottled in her dealings with her father. Indeed, she had spent nine painful years learning not to cry when she was aching inside because Aubrey ignored her. For once in her life she wanted to allow her emotions to flow freely. She had partially emerged from her cautious shell when she'd expressed her feelings for Dominic, but there were risks involved in loving him, risks Rozalyn considered worth taking.
"Rozalyn, we need to talk," Dominic insisted as he took the glass from her hand and set it aside.
"It can wait." Rozalyn forced a faint smile and tucked her emotions into a dark corner of her heart. She was not going to force Dominic into matrimony.
"No, it cannot," he contradicted as he propelled her toward the terrace door.
However, the orchestra struck up a lively tune, and Rozalyn was pried from his arms and herded into a circle of men who intended to share her delightful company before she consented to wed the man who had possessively kept her by his side. Dominic growled irritably at this untimely interruption. Just when he had mustered the nerve to tell her the truth, Rozalyn had been carted off to join in a folk dance.
But Rozalyn welcomed the interruption. She uttered no protest as she was passed from one pair of arms to another. This separation would allow Dominic to come to a decision. She had never wanted to be forced into marriage, and he would never be content if he was forced into it.
Heaving an exasperated sigh, Dominic rammed his hands into his trouser pockets. Then, deciding it best to rehearse his explanation in a quiet nook where he could hear himself think, he made his way to the foyer. What he had to confess to Rozalyn would not come easily. He could not risk a misunderstanding. With Roz's quicksilver temper, he could not expect her to calmly wait for him to unfangle his tongue. Hell! He should have anticipated Lenore's manipulativeness. He knew how anxious the dowager was to see her granddaughter wed, and he was certain the spunky old woman had planned the entire scheme.
As a matter of fact . . . Dominic stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded the corner. Lenore, the supposed invalid, was dancing around her wheelchair as if it were a partner while a catchy tune drifted from the ballroom. Why, this conniving old woman had been feeding on Rozalyn's sympathy! Dominic snorted in disbelief. Lenore's sick spells and coughing spasms had been an act! No wonder she'd appeared ten years younger when they'd arrived. The dowager had undoubtedly wiped the chalky paste from her face and had erased a few painted wrinkles! Mon Dieu. Now the decrepit beldame was prancing around in her secluded corner as if she were dancing on air. Rozalyn didn't have the foggiest notion she had been manipulated into finding a beau. That scheming old witch had been wheezing and choking as if she were on her death bed when nothing could have been further from the truth. Of all the underhanded, deceitful ...
When the front door creaked open, Lenore dived back into her chair and replaced her lap quilt before Dominic stepped into view. His eyes rolled in disbelief when Lenore's shoulders suddenly drooped, as if the weight of the world had been dumped upon them. Then, as if with extreme effort, the beldame rolled herself into the middle of the foyer, huffing and puffing and, of course, wheezing.
"It's about time you showed up for your only daughter's engagement ball." Lenore sniffed and then flung Aubrey a glare. "Here I am, practically in my grave and I am forced to see to the preparations. You couldn't tear yourself away from your precious work long enough to notice that Rozalyn was about to be married."
"I hope you will be hospitable enough to furnish refreshments during your lengthy sermon," Aubrey snorted as his weary steps brought him into the light.
Dominic flinched at the sight of the man he had been silently cursing for the past three months. He knew they would meet again, but he had not anticipated the irritation he now felt. Deciding to wait until Lenore had raked her son-in-law over the coals before he pressed the issue of lower prices, Dominic eased around the corner to wait his turn.
When Aubrey aimed himself toward the study to pour himself a drink, Lenore rolled her chair forward to follow in his wake. "I expect you to give your blessing, to Rozalyn's marriage," she declared, her tone anticipating no argument. "Your daughter is very much in love, and the time has come for her to find a little happiness since you have cruelly deprived her of it these past years."
Aubrey sloshed his brandy into his glass before he pivoted around to face Lenore's condescending frown. "Rozalyn has never voiced any complaints about her life," he retorted. "But you, Lenore, have become a meddling old woman. The last thing I need is your interference in my life or Rozalyn's."
Sparks were flying from the dowager's eyes as she shook her doubled fist at Aubrey. "I happen to care deeply for that child. You killed Jacqueline with your lack of consideration, and I intend to see to it that Rozalyn is out from under your rule before you break her spirit as well. Her rambunctious antics are the direct result of your lack of interest in her. I want to see her wed to a man who will love her."
"If you have spent the day arming yourself for battle, you have wasted your time, Lenore," Aubrey told her placidly. "I have no intention of protesting Rozalyn's wedding. You have worked yourself into a snit, all for nothing."
Lenore sank back in her chair, relieved that she would not be forced to rave at Aubrey until he complied with her wishes. But sh
e was vexed that the man showed neither elation nor displeasure over Rozalyn's engagement. It appeared that Aubrey didn't care one way or another. Lenore knew her son-in-law was callous, but she had expected him to display a smidgen of sentiment when faced with the possibility of losing his daughter.
"Would you care to meet your future son-in-law or can you spare the time?" Lenore inquired, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"By all means," Aubrey's tone implied he could not have cared less.
Lenore flung him a glare that would have roasted an ordinary man, but to her dismay, her son-in-law deflected its heat by tipping up his glass and draining his drink. "How very considerate you are to devote a few minutes of your time to your daughter and her fiance on the eve of their wedding," she snapped caustically. She spun her wheelchair around and propelled herself toward the ballroom. Pausing at the door, she twisted around to make her announcement before she summoned Dominic and Rozalyn. "I have arranged to have the ceremony tonight. I trust you will stay to give the bride away. That will probably be the most time you have spent with the child since her christening." On that bitter note, Lenore sailed out of the study, leaving Aubrey to gnash his teeth and mutter several disrespectful epithets.
Chapter 10
After overhearing the verbal battle between Lenore and Aubrey, Dominic was ready to make a quick exit. He was not about to approach DuBois after the man had been slashed to pieces for he had a long list of pecadilloes to bring to Aubrey's attention, not the least of which were the DuBois' sky-high prices at rendezvous. After thoughtful deliberation, Dominic decided it best to get the hell out of the house and send Mosley back with a humble apology. Mosley could explain that an emergency had arisen and that Dominic had been suddenly called away. Later, he would set matters straight with Rozalyn. Once they had come to terms, Dominic would approach Aubrey.
This mess could be untangled if it was handled logically, Dominic assured himself as he quietly tiptoed out into the hall. He was only fifteen feet from freedom. The front door was his salvation.
Aubrey stared blankly into the hall until a dark figure moved across his line of vision. The craggy features on the man's face seemed out of place above a green velvet waistcoat and a white silk shirt. It took Aubrey a moment to realize that the man was, indeed, out of place among Lenore's throng of guests.
"Hawk? Is that you?" Aubrey called after him. Hurriedly, he set aside his drink and went in pursuit.
Dominic cursed his rotten luck. He had almost made it to the front door without being detected. Resolutely, he turned back to greet DuBois who appeared in the foyer.
"What the devil are you doing here?" Aubrey asked incredulously. His wide eyes swam over Hawk's expensive garments. He had never seen this legendary half-breed in anything but buckskins. "I almost didn't recognize you."
Dominic sorely wished he hadn't. "I am visiting friends in St. Louis," he explained with a sick smile. "But something has just come up and the incident demands my immediate attention." God, he didn't want to be detained, not when Lenore was planning to see him wed in a matter of minutes. "Perhaps we can meet tomorrow for lunch. But I really must—"
"Is there a fire hereabouts?" Aubrey chuckled as he watched Dominic shift his weight from one foot to the other.
"No, but—"
"Then join me for one drink," Aubrey insisted. Clamping a hand around Dominic's arm, Aubrey hauled him toward the study before his companion could protest. "I would much prefer to visit with you than those stuffed shirts who have congregated in the ballroom. Perhaps we can leave together after I fulfill my obligation to my future son-in-law." He snorted disdainfully as he reached for the brandy snifter. "No doubt the man is some stuffy pillar of society."
"More likely a coward," Dominic muttered, half-aloud. If he could have contorted his body so he could have given himself a swift kick, he surely would have. He was up to his neck in trouble, and blurting out the truth at such an untimely moment could prove disastrous. "I really cannot spare the time." He tried to walk away but
Aubrey placed a glass in his hand.
"Have you met the grande dame of Rabelais?" Aubrey hoped to distract his fidgety companion.
"Uh . . . yes ... as a matter of fact I have." Dominic glanced uneasily about him, and his eyes focused on the door as he brought his drink to his lips.
"Then surely you understand my need to leave," Aubrey grumbled. "The beldame has somehow managed to persuade my daughter to wed. Not that I object, you understand," he added with a careless shrug. "But it galls me that Lenore has placed herself in charge and orders me about as if I were her lowly servant."
"I sympathize with your plight, but—" Dominic could only manage to wedge in a few words before Aubrey broke in.
"I had hoped to purchase your furs last summer," the furrier said. "I wondered where you managed to sell your pelts."
Dominic ached to voice his displeasure with the last rendezvous, but he forced himself to respond to Aubrey's remark. "I found a buyer in St. Louis. He was far more generous." The temptation was overwhelming. Dominic had been silent much too long. "And speaking of the rendezvous, I have a few—"
"Well, I see you found each other," Lenore called out as Rozalyn rolled her back into the room. She was peeved that her search for Dominic had proven fruitless, but now her troubled frown evaporated.
Apprehension flitted across Rozalyn's delicate features, for the moment Lenore had informed her that Aubrey arrived, she had become tense. Her uneasiness ebbed when she saw both men in conversation. Perhaps her father's grudge against the Baudelairs had been forgotten. That must be so, or Aubrey would not be chatting with Dominic.
"Hawk and I have been talking business," Aubrey explained as he bent his gaze on his mother-in-law. He nodded a silent greeting to Rozalyn and then turned his attention back to Dominic.
"Hawk?" A bemused frown clung to Lenore's brows as she glanced back and forth between Aubrey and Dominic. "It seems you are mistaken, Aubrey. This is Dominic Baudelair, Rozalyn's fiance."
"Baudelair?" Aubrey's calm facade cracked like a shattered glass. "Baudelair!" The name exploded from his lips. "No wonder you changed your name to Hawk, you miserable bastard!" Aubrey roared.
The silence that followed Aubrey's booming attack was unnerving. Rozalyn peered incredulously at her father. Aubrey looked as if he were about to split at the seams. Never had he shown such emotion, not even when he'd lost Jacqueline. Aubrey's face flushed a furious red as he wheeled away and hurled his glass into the fireplace. His entire body was rigid with uncontained anger, and Rozalyn and Dominic stared at him as if he had gone stark raving mad.
"No one by the name of Baudelair will every marry my daughter!" he screeched, glaring with blatant hatred at the man he'd known only as Hawk.
"You promised me you would give them your blessing," Lenore spouted. "You are not going to back down on your word, Aubrey."
"I gave my consent before I learned this bastard's name." Aubrey scowled. He was glaring daggers at all three of them, as if they had conspired to deceive him. "There will be no marriage. By God, I forbid it!"
The threesome flinched as his thundering voice ricocheted off the walls and came at them from all directions. Rozalyn regained her composure and marched stiffly toward her father, her irritation rising sharply. Aubrey had ignored her most of her life, but he was now ordering her about. She decided that her father had lost the right to do so when he'd shut her out of his life.
"I have made my decision," she told him firmly. "If Dominic and I wish to wed, we shall do so. How dare you play the overprotective father after you have excluded me for so many years. You are being unreasonable, and you have yet to explain why you find the name Baudelair so distasteful."
"I do not have to explain myself," Aubrey hissed as his murderous gaze swung to Dominic.
Dominic frowned bemusedly. He didn't have the foggiest notion why his name had provoked such a drastic change in Aubrey's behavior.
"I refuse to give my blessing to this
marriage. That is the beginning and end of it!" Aubrey spat out.
Lenore was so agitated that she forgot herself. Like steam rising from a boiling teakettle she sprang from her wheelchair, her charade forgotten as she turned narrowed eyes on Aubrey. Both father and daughter were dumbstruck when the frail, seemingly decrepit dowager launched herself toward them, and Lenore took advantage of their stunned silence and wagged her finger in Aubrey's peaked face.
"If you do not give your blessing, the wedding ceremony will go on without you," Lenore assured him. "Rozalyn does not need your permission. She is no longer a child. It will be a simple matter to find a substitute father among my guests. Heaven knows, she has been without one since the day she was born."
Aubrey was shaking like a leaf caught in a cyclone. "Sit down, old woman. I have endured your sermons too long. No matter how low your opinion of me is, I am still Rozalyn's father and I forbid this marriage!" His voice rose until he was all but shouting in Lenore's face.
Then Aubrey grabbed Rozalyn by the arm, and herded her toward the door. He was determined to escort his daughter home and to keep her there until Baudelair packed his belongings and returned to the mountains where he belonged. Baudelair! Aubrey could not believe what had happened. God, how he detested that name and all the tormenting memories associated with it.
But before Aubrey could storm through the door with Rozalyn in tow, Dominic blocked his path. The faintest hint of a smile bordered his lips as he met Aubrey's smoldering glare. "I believe you and I can solve this dilemma," he stated calmly and then darted a discreet glance to Rozalyn who was still trying to free herself from her father's painful grip. "I beg a private conversation."
"I have nothing more to say to you in public or private," Aubrey growled. "Now get the hell out of my way!"
As Aubrey charged ahead like a mad bull, Dominic agilely sidestepped, then caught Aubrey by the arm as he barreled by. DuBois squealed with pain as Dominic twisted his arm up his back, applying fierce pressure until Rozalyn was able to worm free.