Velvet Embrace

by Nicole Jordan

  The heat of the fire was too intense to allow anyone near, and Brie could only wait, praying desperately that any moment Dominic would appear through the wall of flames. But the fire continued to burn, and there was no sign of him.

  At last the entire roof gave way. The resulting explosion was deafening, the flames shooting upward to light up the night sky.

  Brie stared in shock at the blazing wreckage. When she realized that Dominic could not have possibly escaped alive, she sank to her knees, too stunned even to cry. A terrible emptiness burned in the pit of her stomach, and there was a scorching ache in her throat that had nothing to do with the acrid smoke still choking the air.

  She hardly noticed when Katherine placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You mustn't be upset, Brie," Katherine said gently. "You can build a new barn. Why don't you come inside? Cook has prepared food for everyone, and Garby and Caroline are tending the injured in the hall. No one was hurt badly, thank the Lord, although there were a few burns. You should come into the house and change out of those filthy clothes."

  Numbly, Brie looked down at her wet, soot-streaked pelisse. Then she shook her head. Katherine obviously didn't know what had happened to Dominic. Brie couldn't tell her, though. She couldn't put the horrible truth into words. "Please, Katie," she whispered, "I want to stay here. Will you just see to John?"

  She was grateful when Katherine left her alone. Still kneeling on the cobblestones, she bowed her head.

  After a time, the rain came. It was only a light drizzle, but it was greeted by shouts of triumph by the firefighters, for even though the small barn would continue to burn, the danger to the other buildings had passed. Men would watch through the night, and in the morning they would begin to clear away the charred rubble.

  Brie couldn't share their joy. She was too numb to care about what happened to the barns. She couldn't feel the rain either. Icy streams ran down her face and soaked her skin, making her shiver, but she wasn't aware of it. After a while she began to cry, softly at first, then in racking sobs.

  How ironic, she thought. Dominic's death had made her realize how much she loved him. In spite of her efforts to resist him, the magnetic attraction she had always felt for him had developed into something stronger, something more vital. But even loving him was ironic. He probably would have laughed to see her crying for him, mocking her pain as he had everything else.

  Tears were still streaming down her cheeks when a tall figure loomed before her. It looked so much like Dominic that Brie covered her face with her hands, thinking she must be seeing a ghost.

  But the hard hands that gripped her shoulders were real enough, and the familiar masculine voice was Dominic's. "Are you hurt?" he asked urgently, pulling Brie to her feet.

  Brie stared up at him, not comprehending. Dominic looked worse than a London chimney sweep. His clothes were torn and filthy, and he was covered with grime as black as his hair. But even with his face streaked with soot and his dark hair plastered down by rain, Brie had never seen a more beautiful sight.

  When Dominic sharply repeated his question, she shook her head. "I . . . I thought . . . you were dead," she said in a hoarse whisper.

  Dominic laughed and pulled her into his arms. "Almost, but I'm hard to kill."

  Relief flooded through her. He was alive! He hadn't died in the fire. Brie clung to him, burying her face against his wet shoulder. It was a long moment before the old suspicions came rushing back, and then she drew away, her eyes flashing. "You beast! You let me think you were dead!"

  Giving her a smile so tender that Brie felt her heart melt, Dominic drew her back into his arms. "I'm sorry, ma belle," he said soothingly. "I would have come sooner had I been able, but I was unconscious for a while. Jacques said he almost despaired when he couldn't revive me, but the rain finally woke me."

  Looking around her. Brie suddenly realized that the Frenchman had disappeared. "But however did you escape?" she asked.

  "The far side. Your steward—Tyler, I think his name was—took an ax to the wall and cleared an opening. I managed to get the mare out just before the loft collapsed. That's the last I remember."

  "But you weren't injured?"

  "My lungs smart like hell, but I'll recover."

  Searching his face, Brie shuddered. "You should not have gone back in there."

  "I had to," Dominic said simply. "Otherwise you would have done something idiotic like try to save the horses on your own—foolish girl." Yet he took the sting out of his words by lowering his mouth and brushing her lips gently with his.

  When he lifted his head, Brie was trembling again. She gazed up at him wordlessly, loving the sight of his harsh, aristocratic face.

  Dominic gave her another of his angelic smiles and pushed a dripping russet curl back from her face. "You know, someone tried to kill us, or me . . ." He broke off, his expression hardening. In all likelihood, the arsonists were the same men who had been following him, but this time Brie and John had been exposed to danger. His unknown enemies meant business, and this latest incident made it imperative to discover who and why.

  Swearing silently, Dominic turned to survey the flaming wreckage of the barn. "I called this afternoon to offer my help in apprehending your neighborhood vagrant," he said dryly.

  Brie felt suddenly shy. "And I thought you meant to torment me again," she murmured, looking away.

  Dominic caught her chin in his hand and turned her face toward him. His eyes searched hers for a long moment, before he bent to capture her mouth with tender savagery.

  His kiss lasted only a brief while. Then, as if he had suddenly become aware that he was embracing her in plain view of dozens of curious grooms and household servants, Dominic released her. "You had better get out of this rain," he said curtly, his tone once more holding a mocking edge to it.

  "But what about you? You will come inside and get warm, won't you? Those wet clothes—"

  "I've dry ones at the Lodge. I must leave you now. Your servant, mademoiselle." Stepping back, he bowed with exaggerated formality, then turned abruptly on his heel and strode away, leaving her standing there.

  Brie stared after him, wondering what had caused such a sudden change in his manner. But as she watched Dominic disappear around the corner of the nearest barn, she smiled to herself. Somehow his brusqueness didn't upset her as it had yesterday. She didn't understand him, true, but he was what he was—and she loved him. Perhaps one day . . . but there would be time enough for that tomorrow.

  It was only after Brie had returned to the house that she remembered the hundred questions she had wanted to ask him. Dominic seemed to know more about the fire than he had been willing to share. And what was more, she had let him leave without even thanking him for saving her horses.

  The rain continued throughout the night and the fire gradually burnt itself out, but the cold gray light of morning brought little cheer to the inhabitants of Greenwood. A pile of ash and charred timbers lay where the barn had once stood, vividly reminding them all of how close they had come to disaster.

  A great deal of work needed to be done before the stable's routine could return to normal. All training exercises were cancelled for the day, but the horses that had escaped the flames had to be found and cared for, and the buckets and blankets used to fight the fire had to be cleared away. And there still were the regular chores of cleaning stalls and feeding the animals.

  When these tasks were accomplished, Brie ordered everyone to rest. She herself slept for a few hours, and when she woke shortly before noon, she dressed warmly, wanting to tour the stables before beginning the Herculean task of cleaning up after the fire.

  The house was quiet, but Brie stopped by her cousin's room to check on her. Seeing Caroline sleeping soundly, she smiled. The girl had reacted surprisingly well to the events of the previous night, taking charge of the household and organizing the staff while Katherine saw to the needs of the injured. Obviously, Caroline wasn't the empty-headed romantic that everyone believed.
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br />   The rain had stopped by the time Brie left the house, but gray clouds hid the sun, making the soot-washed stableyard look desolate. Brie shuddered when she saw what was left of the small barn, remembering how the smoke and cinders swirled about them. How narrowly Dominic had escaped a horrible death! He had played down the danger to keep her from worrying, but she wasn't blind. Someone had tried to murder them, and she intended to find the culprit and see him punished.

  She spent the next hour touring the barns and carefully checking each horse for injury. She was pleased to see the new filly eagerly nursing at Firefly's side. Brie had tended the mare's wounds herself that morning, and the whip-marks seemed to be healing. With luck, only the deepest slashes would leave scars.

  When Brie finished her inspection, she turned her attention to interviewing Greenwood's large staff, using John's office as a headquarters. She was grateful the office had been spared. Barns could be rebuilt, but that particular room with its old desk and hard wooden chairs held many pleasant memories for her. As a child she had spent innumerable hours there with her father and John, learning the intricacies of running a training stable.

  She questioned everyone who had been present during the fire, but when she had finished, she was no closer to finding the arsonist. Her suspicions were partially confirmed, however; a piece of wood had been driven between the doors and the metal latchbar, indicating that someone really had intended to murder them. She also discovered one of the lads had seen two strange men leaving the stableyard shortly before the fire broke out—and they had been carrying guns. The boy had followed them a short distance across a field, but had returned when he saw the light from the fire.

  Brie was sitting at the desk, pondering her next step, when John joined her. "You don't appear to have slept much," she chided, noticing the weary slump of his shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes. "You ought to rest after all you did last night."

  "I'm all right. Lungs still hurt a bit, but it will pass. Besides, that young lord did most of the work. Fine man, that Lord Stanton." John looked at her closely, and Brie found herself trying not to blush. She felt self-conscious whenever Dominic was mentioned. Changing the subject, she told John what she had learned from her interviews.

  He frowned when she had finished. "I don't like seeing you become involved," he remarked. "You shouldn't be concerning yourself."

  Brie gave him a puzzled look. "I think you must have taken leave of your senses, John. I am already involved. Someone destroyed part of my stables and tried to kill us. Do you expect me to do nothing?"

  "I think you should let Lord Stanton handle the matter," he said stubbornly, not meeting her eyes.

  "Stanton? Nonsense! I am perfectly capable of handling the affairs of this estate without his help. The local authorities—"

  "He has already spoken with the magistrate."

  "I beg your pardon? How do you know what Stanton has or hasn't done?"

  John sighed. At times Brie could be too headstrong for her own good. "Lord Stanton was here earlier, while you slept. He informed me of the steps he was taking to apprehend the criminals."

  Brie sat back in her chair, challenge written all over her face. "I see. And what else did his lordship tell you? Was I to be kept in total ignorance?"

  John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "He sent for the Bow Street Runners and some of his own people. They should arrive in a few days, but in the meantime, he plans to conduct his own investigation. He said he feels responsible for what happened last night. He intends to pay for the new barn, too. Told me to send the bills to his man in London. He also told me not to let you become involved."

  "The devil he did!"

  "It makes sense to me, Miss Brie. He doesn't want you to go about unattended, either. Said he doesn't think you are in any danger, but suggested that you carry a weapon whenever you leave the house."

  "That," Brie said, rising, "is the first sensible thing I've heard. I will carry a weapon, but I am more likely to use it on him!"

  It was very late when Dominic dismounted and turned the nag he had been riding over to an astonished Patrick Dawson. Dominic's rough clothes and his strange flea-bitten horse, were enough to make Patrick scratch his head in puzzlement. Julian's reaction was similar, but he waited until his guest had changed clothes and been served a late supper in the dining room before asking what the devil Dominic was up to.

  Dominic sipped his wine, leaving much of the food on his plate untouched as he answered. His voice was tinged with sarcasm, an indication of his weariness and frustration. "I've been searching for the men who set fire to the Greenwood stables. The clothes were a disguise of sorts. I can hardly track down a pair of arsonists dressed in the height of fashion. And, I'm sorry to say, there is now a horse in your stable that doesn't deserve the name."

  "Did you find any sign of the culprits?"

  "One or two, but the tracks lead nowhere." Dominic's jaw hardened. "Damn it, I know Germain is behind this! I don't have a shred of evidence, but my instincts tell me he planned this in case he lost our duel. He must have arranged for his henchmen to follow me here, and when they realized they weren't going to get the deed, they decided to take what they could get. That fire last night was no accident."

  "I know," Julian replied. "Brie told me." The previous evening he had been astonished when Dominic had come home drenched to the skin and looking as if he had been dragged through a char pit. Julian had also been dismayed to learn the Greenwood stable had been set on fire, and had called there twice that day to offer his help. The first time he had been told Brie was resting. The second, he had found her seething with anger.

  "So, now what do you do?" he asked, postponing his discussion of Brie.

  Dominic gave a weary sigh. "Keep looking until I find them, I suppose. You're aware that a message arrived from Jason today? He says Germain has recovered from his delirium but that he's leaving the pleasure of interrogating Charles to me. By the way, Jason also writes that Lauren was delivered of a healthy baby girl."

  Julian was pleased to hear about the child and he said so, but he was more interested in what Dominic planned to do about the attempts on his life. "Do you mean to go to London then?" he asked.

  "I haven't decided. I could probably learn more from Germain now that he's well enough to talk, but it would save me some trouble if I could catch his agents here. Besides," Dominic added softly, almost to himself, "I hardly think it appropriate to leave for London now, with the way things are."

  Julian wasn't quite sure what Dominic's cryptic remark meant, but he let it pass. Mentioning the call he had paid on Brie, he relayed her message to Dominic. "She was furious with you, Dom. She said in no uncertain terms that you should mind your own affairs and that she would handle the matter herself."

  Dominic gave Julian a hard glance. "I credited Brie with more sense. She realizes, I hope, that the men who set fire to her stables will not stop because their first plan went awry."

  Seeing Dominic's set expression, Julian sighed. It was inevitable that his two strong-willed friends should clash. Ever since he had introduced them, he had felt undercurrents of tension in their relationship. It was a pity, though. Brie and Dominic could have been made for each other. But Dominic was determined to believe that women were weak and foolish and untrustworthy, and Brie had competed in a man's world too long to accept masculine domination meekly. She bristled like a hawthorn hedge whenever her ability was challenged.

  In this case, however, Julian agreed with Dominic. A man, particularly one of Dominic's experience, was better suited to deal with killers. Not that he would share his opinion with Brie, but he was worried she might do something foolish just to prove she didn't have to obey Dominic's orders.

  "She knows they are murderers," Julian answered. "But the point is, she thinks you have no right to take charge. She doesn't understand why you are doing what you're doing. I'll say it again—you ought to tell her what's going on."

  Dominic pressed his lips togethe
r in a tight line. "I don't want her to become involved."

  "But isn't it possible that these men might try to hurt Brie in order to get to you?"

  "Possibly, but not likely. Brie and John weren't intended to be victims. They just happened to be present."

  Julian frowned. "All the same, it concerns me. Brie often rides alone, and if she were to come across those villains, well, they might not hesitate to abduct her or some such thing, especially now that they've shown their cards."

  "You're being a bit melodramatic, don't you think?" Dominic replied, refusing to admit that the thought worried him as well.

  "I would hardly call murder melodramatic. Besides, whoever they are, they couldn't know that you don't care a whit about Brie's welfare."

  Dominic's hand tightened around his wine glass. "I care," he said, his tone curiously flat.

  Julian gave an exasperated snort. "Then why the devil don't you tell her what you've told me? Let her know the facts? That's the only way Brie will listen to reason."

  Slamming down his glass, Dominic glared at Julian. "Because I haven't the time or the inclination to pamper the pride of a spoiled beauty! One who is foolish enough to become involved in a situation that is well over her head, at that." When Julian remained silent, Dominic stood up abruptly. "Hell, tel! her what you like. But whether she agrees or not, I will act as I see fit." With that, he turned on his heel and strode angrily from the room.

  Leaning back in his chair, Julian pursed his lips in thought. He found his friend's reaction highly curious. Dominic had never been one to brook interference—and certainly not outright defiance—from a woman. But he rarely let a woman move him to anger. The violence he had shown just now was not in keeping with the cool, impervious cynic Julian knew.

  Ah, my noble friend, Julian thought smugly, your actions betray you. In spite of what you pretend, you are taken with Brie. And that rankles, doesn't it? To be attracted to a woman who refuses to fall for your practiced charm? But beware, Dominic, lest you end up presenting your cold heart to her on a platter. After all, are you so different from the rest of us poor mortals?