"Hold your tongue, Caroline," Julian said, giving her a disapproving frown.
"Well, you may condone her escapades, but I certainly don't!"
"And what would you know of her escapades, young lady?"
"Good heavens, Julian! I'm not a complete innocent. All London knows she used to be his mistress."
The choking sound Julian made was drowned out by the blare of the huntsman's horn. When he glanced at Brie, he was startled to see the stricken look in her eyes. She had the reins clenched tightly in her hands as she watched the little drama being enacted by Dominic and his ex-mistress.
Julian scowled at Caroline, but she only tossed her head and urged her horse over to where John waited for her. "I hope Simms prevents her from breaking her little neck," Julian muttered. "Then I can have the pleasure."
The baying of the hounds grew louder then, and the pack began to move off. "Come, Brie," he said gently. "I'll give you a lead over so that fool animal you are riding will have some idea how to go on."
Brie tore her gaze away from Dominic, only to stare blindly down at her hands. When she didn't respond, Julian swore under his breath, "For God's sake, smile, will you? You've told me often enough not to wear my heart on my sleeve."
That made her head snap up, and she glared furiously at him. "I am not! I couldn't care less what that insufferable man does! Or what paramours he keeps!"
Julian grinned. "Then I'll lay you a wager. A pair of foils against a new saddle says I'll be the first up at the finish."
"Agreed!" Brie retorted, accepting the challenge. She dug her heels in Jester's flanks and the bay leapt forward. Shaking his head, Julian followed.
For the most part they stayed well to the fore, directly behind the huntsman and whippers-in. The pace was slow at first, and the morning was well advanced before a fox broke cover and the entire field took off at a gallop. The wild chase ended only when the baying hounds lost the scent.
An hour later the hunt was riding through a thickly wooded area belonging to Julian. The path was so narrow and twisting that the riders were forced to go single file. Brie ducked to avoid a low branch that hung out over the trail, but when Jester bolted the next instant, she was almost swept from the saddle. She managed to maintain her seat and bring the bay under control before he ran her into a tree or careened into the horses in front, but after that, she slowed her pace, allowing the leaders to widen the distance.
She had no further trouble for a time. When the trail turned again, she urged the bay into a canter to clear the trunk of an oak that had fallen across the path. They landed easily on the other side, but then she happened to glance to her right. Catching sight of a dark figure in the woods, she gave an involuntary cry and pulled her mount to a dead stop.
Julian was following closely behind her and was forced to check sharply to avoid a collision. He let out an oath as he fought to control his rearing mount, then rounded on Brie. "That was a damned foolish stunt! What in blazes were you doing—trying to kill us?"
Brie ignored him, her eyes searching the underbrush for the man she had spotted. He had been some thirty yards away, on foot, and from that distance he had appeared to be roughly dressed, wearing dark clothing and a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes. At Brie's cry, he had turned away and hid himself in the underbrush. There was no sign of him now.
"Did you see him, Julian?" Brie said over her shoulder. "I would swear he was carrying a gun!"
"What gun? What are you talking about?" Julian demanded. "Damn it, Brie, have you suddenly lost all your senses?" He broke off scolding when a cool voice spoke behind him.
"Might I suggest," Dominic said, "that you two carry on your conversation elsewhere? At the moment, you stand in danger of being ridden down by those behind me."
Brie whirled her horse to face him. "But there was someone in those woods!"
Dominic's eyes narrowd. "I can see no one, Miss Carringdon. Perhaps you imagined a ghost or goblin. It might even be that the wood is haunted."
His sarcasm stung Brie, making her bristle with anger. She started to retort, wanting to say something just as nasty to him, but when she saw more riders coming up behind him, she realized that she couldn't stay there to argue. She contented herself with directing a scathing glance at Dominic before turning her mount and cantering down the path.
The two men followed at a more leisurely pace, and when the path opened into a field, they spread out to ride side by side. Dominic followed Brie's retreating figure with his gaze, noting her stiff shoulders and her proud, straight back. A gleam of amusement crept into his eyes. Seeing it, Julian demanded to know the cause of his humor.
Dominic grinned. "The lady has sharp eyes. She was able to catch Jacques in the act of searching your woods."
"You mean to tell me Brie did see a man? That he was your coachman?"
Dominic nodded, then chuckled. "I honestly believe she would have gone after him if I hadn't stopped her. Perhaps I was too hasty, though. I would have loved to see Jacques' face when he was exposed by a mere woman."
"Brie is not a 'mere woman'," Julian declared.
Dominic smiled at his own private thoughts. "I'm beginning to discover that for myself," he said softly. He slanted a glance at Julian. "I imagine she'll have some questions for you. See what you can do to pacify her and turn her attention away from Jacques, will you? I don't believe she is favoring me with her confidences at the moment."
Julian raised his eyes heavenward. "Well, what did you expect with your accusations of ghost-chasing? She wasn't happy with that one whit. In fact, she'd probably be pleased to see the last of you, particularly since Denise was showing her cat's claws earlier and flaunting her so very obvious association with you."
Seeing Dominic arch an eyebrow, Julian sighed. "It would be far better to tell Brie what is going on, but since you started this charade, I'll do what I can to see it through. Later, though—after Brie cools off. It would be more than my life is worth to speak to her now. Come to think of it, when are you going to start exercising that famous charm of yours?"
Dominic's lips twisted wryly. "I have tried, my friend, but you can see for yourself it isn't working."
Julian grinned. "I didn't think it would."
Chapter Eight
Lady Denise's presence in the neighborhood affected Brie more than she cared to admit. There was a good deal of speculation and gossip about the beautiful blond widow, and her name was quite frequently linked to Lord Stanton's in spite of the fact that they were rarely seen together.
When Brie received invitations to a ball being held in Lady Denise's honor, she considered declining. Dominic was sure to be there and she wanted to avoid both him and his paramour. But Caroline needed a chaperon in order to attend, and since Katherine didn't mean to go, the task fell to Brie.
Feeling a strong need to bolster her courage, she dressed with care. Her ballgown, a satin slip of sea green under a filmy overskirt shot with gold threads, was in the height of fashion and complemented her coloring. The low-cut bodice emphasized the fullness of her breasts, while the soft material clung to her slender figure, accentuating the curves of her waist and hips. Around her throat she wore a delicate diamond and emerald necklace, from her ears dangled matching earrings, and in her burnished, elegantly coiffed curls were tiny sprays of the glittering gems.
In contrast, her cousin was dressed demurely in white with a simple string of pearls around her throat. Caroline, however, did not mind that Brie's beauty outshone hers, for she had high hopes that Brie could capture the elusive Lord Stanton. She was quite certain Brie's alluring elegance would dazzle the most hardened rake.
When the Carringdon coach drew up before the Scofields' brightly lit mansion, Brie told herself for the hundredth time that she was foolish to allow the prospect of seeing Dominic again to daunt her. It should be simple for a woman of her years and experience to maintain an attitude of cool disdain toward him. She was very much afraid, however, that she would not be up to it.
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After entering the brightly lit hall and surrendering their cloaks, the two cousins were shown into a large drawing room. More than a dozen of the guests who had been invited to dinner before the ball were already gathered there, seated or standing in small groups. Brie breathed a sigh of relief when she glanced around the room and noted that Dominic and Julian had not yet arrived, and she was able to greet her host and hostess with a warm smile.
Lady Scofield, a tall, overweight woman dressed becomingly in dark rose silk, spoke with Brie and Caroline a moment, before her attention was caught by some new arrivals. "There is Denville," she suddenly remarked. "And that handsome Lord Stanton. They say he is a dreadful rake but I think he is perfectly charming. Excuse me, my dears, while I go stop Henry from talking horses to him all evening. Stanton is buying one of our mares, you know, and I simply won't allow business to interfere with my party." Giving the two cousins a gracious smile, she left them in order to greet her new guests.
At the mention of Dominic, Brie had forcibly managed to keep her gaze from being drawn toward the door. Determined to avoid him, she urged Caroline toward some other of the guests and began making introductions. She left her cousin chatting happily with Lady Scofield's daughter Elizabeth and moved away to join Squire Umstead and his wife.
She had just began to relax when she heard the sound of Dominic's resonant laughter from somewhere behind her.
Involuntarily, she turned to glance at him, stiffening when she saw him standing beside Lady Grayson.
The ravishing blond was draped, Greek-style, in a diaphanous white muslin gown that left one arm bare and little to the imagination. Her pale beauty presented the perfect foil to Dominic, for with his raven hair and dark, aristocratic features, he exuded raw male attraction. Like many of the other gentlemen present, he wore a formal black coat and knee- breeches, a silk flowered waistcoat, and a neckcloth tied in a plain style, but the effect on Dominic was striking. The white linen at his neck made his bronzed skin seem darker, almost savage, and the well-tailored coat and snug breeches added a sleek elegance to his lean figure. He wore no jewelry other than a gold ring and watch, and the starkness of his attire made other men look flaccid and foppish in comparison.
Seeing him smiling down so warmly at Lady Denise, Brie ground her teeth. For some unaccountable reason, the sight infuriated her. Just then, Dominic glanced up and caught her frank stare, and when his eyes locked with hers, Brie felt herself blushing furiously. His look of amusement told her clearly that he knew what she was thinking. Angrily, Brie pressed her lips together and turned away.
She would have been even more angry had she heard Lady Grayson's next remark, for Denise's sharp eyes had missed none of the interchange. "I see now why you have been avoiding me, darling," she observed to Dominic. "You have already found a new amour. She is very beautiful, but hardly your type, I should think. Now if you had me . . ." Denise left the sentence unfinished and smiled provocatively up at him.
Dominic grinned and flicked her chin with a forefinger. "But I've already had you, chérie. And you know what they say about greener pastures."
Denise forced a gay little laugh. Having been Dominic's mistress once, she knew him too well to misunderstand him. She had held the position longer than most, but when she had begun to spend his money a bit too freely and then unwisely pressed him about marriage, he had terminated their relationship.
That had been several years ago. Now, looking at his tall, very masculine body, Denise very much regretted letting Dominic slip through her fingers. He had been an exciting lover and a stimulating companion, taking her with him sometimes on his frequent travels to the Continent. She wanted him back, even if she had long given up the hope of trapping him in marriage. She had followed him to the country with the express purpose of luring him into her bed again.
It hadn't taken her long to realize that Dominic had no interest in resuming their previous relationship, but she wasn't about to give up easily. "Darling," she said, keeping her voice low and husky. "Surely you remember the wonderful times we shared. I certainly have not forgotten. But perhaps you no longer find me attractive?"
"Fishing for compliments, Denise?"
Her lips curved in a pout. "Of course not, darling. But you could at least pretend you are glad to see me. To think that I travelled all this way just to be near you, and you aren't even grateful."
Dominic raised a mocking eyebrow. "I don't imagine that you will lack company for very long, my sweet. You'll soon have a dozen admirers vying for your attention. Now, if you will excuse me? My new 'amour', as you put it, is no doubt growing impatient with my lack of attention." Dominic turned away, leaving Denise with a frown marring her beautiful features.
A moment later, Brie was startled to hear Dominic's voice in her ear. "I missed you this past week, chérie," he murmured. "You haven't been avoiding me, by any chance?"
Brie turned to give him a quelling glance, but catching the curious looks of the other guests, she made herself smile sweetly. "Indeed, I have, Lord Stanton. I want nothing further to do with you. Ever."
He held his hand over his heart with a mock grimace. "I am desolated. But I'm afraid you'll have to suffer my company for a few hours at least. It seems I am to take you in to dinner. Don't look so dismayed, my girl. Our hostess thinks she is doing you an honor."
Brie made no move to accept the arm he held out to her. "I would have thought Lady Grayson would be your partner."
Dominic's grin flashed charm along with white teeth. "Harcourt won out—his title ranks higher than mine. Come now," he chided, his eyes showing amusement. "These charming people will begin to wonder if there isn't something between us. They might be interested to learn just what happened in a particular cottage during a particular rainstorm. . . ."
"You wouldn't dare!"
He laughed and drew her arm through his, then bent to whisper in her ear. "Never, chérie. I told you I intend to be discreet."
Brie clenched her teeth, not deigning to reply, but as he led her into the dining room, she wondered despairingly how she would ever survive the evening.
Dinner turned out to be even worse than she had expected. She found herself seated between Dominic on her left and an elderly gentleman on her right, with Rupert Umstead directly opposite. As usual, Rupert was determined to make a fool of himself, and before the soup was even served, he had leaned across the table and loudly dedicated a toast to Brie's beauty. Acutely aware that Dominic was observing her discomfort, Brie managed a polite smile. But by the time second course was brought in, she was finding it hard not to grimace.
It was obvious Rupert had been drinking too much for he slurred his words as he recited a poem about the cruelty of the fairer sex. He might have continued indefinitely had not Dominic quietly signaled a footman to remove the boy's wine and directed a soft but curt remark across the table that caused Brie to blush. His intervention had the desired effect, though; Rupert sputtered a bit, turned quite red, and was silent. Brie couldn't help but give Dominic a grateful look, but when she saw the warm lights dancing in his eyes, she quickly turned her attention back to her plate.
The rest of the dinner progressed in comparative harmony, at least outwardly. Inwardly, Brie was far too aware of Dominic's presence. Once, when he was speaking to her, he rested his hand on the back of her chair, his fingers just brushing the bare skin of her shoulder, and Brie was dismayed to feel the tingling current that just this brief contact elicited. She was extremely glad to escape his close proximity at the conclusion of the meal.
After dinner, the ladies removed to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to their port. Since the dancing would not begin for another hour when the rest of the guests were to arrive, the ladies amused themselves by entertaining each other on the pianoforte. Brie was beginning to feel the onset of a headache, so when the tea tray arrived, she took her cup and went to sit on a sofa, as far away as possible from the chattering women but where she could still keep on eye on her cousin.
r /> She had only just settled herself when Denise Grayson took the seat beside her. "I hope you do not mind the interruption, Miss Carringdon," Denise said airily, "but I wished to speak to you. And you did look a little forlorn, sitting here by yourself. Now why could that be?"
Brie was taken aback by the malicious gleam in the woman's blue eyes. She murmured a polite reply about having a headache, which brought a cold smile to Lady Denise's lips. "That excuse will serve as well as any, I suppose, even if it is untrue. He is handsome, is he not?"
Not caring at all for the woman's tone, Brie arched an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"
"Why Dominic, of course. Do you not find yourself attracted to him?"
"Whatever makes you think that?"
Denise's smile turned brittle. "Of course you wouldn't care to admit it. But I understand perfectly, my dear. Few woman can resist Dominic when he puts himself out to be charming."
"You are mistaken, my lady. I have not found Lord Stanton to be irresistible. In fact, I think him odious and overbearing—" Brie broke off, realizing she was protesting far to vehemently. "But I fail to see how it concerns you."
Denise leaned toward Brie, assuming a confidential air. "I am relieved to hear you say that, my dear. For although Dominic is quite handsome and charming, he sometimes is not very . . . nice in his actions. Or perhaps honorable would be a better word. I only seek to warn you. Surely you are not offended?"
Brie wanted to tell Lady Grayson to go to the devil, but she bit her tongue instead. "He means nothing to me, I assure you.
"I am extremely glad for you. Alas, it is not the same with me. You see, Dominic and I were once very close. By an unkind twist of fate, we were separated, but I have hopes that—"
"You will not break my heart, Lady Denise," Brie interjected. "Indeed, you have my best wishes."
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