Chapter Fifteen
When Brie was awakened early the next morning by an insistent tapping at the door, Dominic's side of the bed was empty. She sat up slowly, staring down at the pillow where his dark head had lain. Dominic was gone.
But perhaps it was for the best, Brie reflected, trying to ignore the feeling of desolation that filled her. She could not have faced him this morning.
Remembering what had happened, she winced. Dominic had made love to her in the most degrading a manner possible, simply to prove that she meant nothing to him. He had delighted in humiliating her, in forcing her submission. What a fool she had been, letting herself believe that he could love her! Perhaps, given time, he might have come to care for her, but now she stood no chance. He thought her family a pack of murderers, herself included, and his suspicions had crushed any love he might have felt for her. He hated her and that was the end of it. She would go home to Greenwood and never see him again, and in time, forget him—if she could.
"My lady?"
Brie hadn't noticed the bustling entrance of a young maidservant, but the rosy-cheeked girl was trying to get her attention.
"Begging your pardon, milady, but his lordship bid me to ask you to hurry. 'Tell my wife,' he says to me, 'that the Falcon sails within the hour.' I've brought hot water and your clothes."
Bewildered, Brie gave the girl a blank stare. "My . . . my clothes?"
"Yes milady. His lordship explained to me how you were traveling to meet him here, and how you were set upon by ruffians who made off with your coach. Bless me, but the highways aren't safe anymore."
As the maid busied herself lighting a brace of candles, Brie glanced around the bedroom, noting the cheery fire burning in the hearth. The shirt she had been wearing last night was gone, but the pile of broken glass was still on the floor, reminding her of the bottle she had thrown at Dominic. "Er, yes, thank you . . . r
"Daisy, ma'am." The girl smiled broadly and bobbed a curtsy. "At your service. Will your ladyship be requiring anything else? I have to run down and get your breakfast."
"No . . . thank you, Daisy. That will be fine."
When the girl had gone, Brie got out of bed, draping a sheet around her naked body, and crossed to the window to pull the curtains aside.
It was barely dawn, she realized with a start. The morning was still gray and gloomy for the sun had not even risen. Then Dominic could not have sailed! And the maid had said—
Not yet daring to draw any conclusions, Brie inspected the items the girl had brought. To her surprise, she found an elegant travelling suit of forest green merino, along with a hooded cloak trimmed with luxurious sable. There were also appropriate accessories to the outfit, including gloves and kid half-boots, and a small dressing case containing toilet articles. Brie found herself blushing at the sheerness of the undergarments and wondering how Dominic had managed to come by them so early in the day, but she was too grateful for his thoughtfulness to be anything but pleased.
Finally conceding that Dominic meant for her to accompany him, she let relief and elation sweep through her. She didn't understand why he had changed his mind, but whatever his reasons, it didn't matter. She wanted to go with him, wanted to be with him. It seemed that she had no pride or shame where Dominic was concerned. But he had been kind to find a proper outfit for her to wear—and to let the servants think she was his wife. His wife, Brie murmured, and then quickly shook her head. She would be a fool to read anything at all in the tale Dominic had fabricated to explain her presence at the inn. But at least he had been considerate of her reputation.
She washed and dressed quickly, finding to her surprise that her new clothing fit superbly. When Daisy returned, Brie asked for help with the more troublesome buttons, then ate a hasty breakfast while her hair was brushed till it shone.
"Cor, you're beautiful, you are, milady," Daisy said as she finished pinning the auburn tresses in a smooth chignon. "His lordship will be mighty pleased, that he will."
Brie wasn't so certain, but she thanked the girl before going downstairs to join her alleged husband.
She found the coach waiting in the yard while Dominic impatiently paced the cobblestones. When he gave her a swift. appraising glance, Brie thought she saw approval in his eyes, but her tentative smile was met with cold silence.
He had shaved, she noticed as he handed her into the coach, but the shadows under his eyes suggested he hadn't slept well, and the furrows between his dark brows indicated he was suffering a headache as a result of all the wine he had drunk the night before. Indeed, his expression was so forbidding that Brie decided now was not the time to thank him for providing her clothes. She even held her tongue when Dominic gruffly informed her he would ride in the box, although she couldn't help wondering if he were doing it to spare himself the pleasure of her company. If so, it was hardly a propitious beginning for a journey.
His surliness annoyed her, but during the short drive to the docks, Brie reminded herself just what she owed him. Not only had he rescued her from those horrible men the previous evening, but he had let her come with him this morning, in spite of his obvious reluctance. Perhaps she should make allowances for his foul mood, she decided. It was no more than Dominic deserved if he were feeling the effects of a hangover, but she could repay his kindness by overlooking his churlish behavior.
Her resolve was put to the test almost immediately, for when the coach drew to a halt, Dominic came to the door and told her to remain seated. "Jacques will escort you to the ship," he said brusquely. "He will be along when he has seen to the horses."
Brie stiffened at his tone, but she held back the retort that sprang to her lips. "Very well, if you wish it," she replied meekly.
Dominic's features darkened into a scowl. "The docile lamb hardly suits you, ma belle. I liked you better when you showed some spirit."
Brie's eyes kindled, but before she could reply, Dominic had turned abruptly and was striding away. She stared out the window after him, thinking that it was just as well she had no riding crop with her at the moment.
She was not obliged to wait long, for the burly Jacques appeared almost at once. "If you will come with me, mademoiselle," the coachman said as he took her dressing case. "Monsieur instructed me to show you to your cabin." When Brie hesitated, betraying her indecision, Jacques lowered his voice to a murmur. "Mademoiselle, you must not be distressed. He has a temper, that one, since he was a leetle boy, but he is a fine man. I think you will do him much good."
In spite of the Frenchman's presumptuousness, Brie could not be affronted, for she read only kindness in his intent. She responded with a grateful, albeit doubtful smile.
If Jacques' words had bolstered her flagging courage, the sight of the graceful ship riding in the harbor, with its flashing white sails and elegant lines, made her spirits rise even further. The Falcon was Dominic's yacht, Brie was told as Jacques assisted her on board. The two-masted schooner had been built for speed but carried its own cannon, and the captain and crew—some of whom Brie saw as Jacques led her below deck— had been in Lord Stanton's service for many years. Brie was tempted to ask why his lordship felt it necessary to retain such an expense or why they needed cannons on board, but she decided her curiosity might be misconstrued.
When Jacques conducted her to a small cabin which he said had been allotted for her use, Brie was surprised to find it quite comfortable and rather elegant. Going to the porthole, she settled herself in the window seat where she could watch the numerous other vessels in the harbor and listen to the raucous cries of the sea gulls.
She could easily tell when the ship got underway, for the waves slapped against the hull with greater force and the rolling motion of the Falcon increased drastically. Although it was not her first time on board a ship, it was her first seafaring experience, and the rocking floor had an unsettling effect on her stomach. Having read somewhere that fresh air helped to cure seasickness, Brie wished she had thought to ask for permission to go up on deck.
No one bothered her, and after a while Brie found herself paying more attention to the fascinating activities of the crew than the scenery. All of the sailors were busy with something—raising and lowering sails, securing lines, calling out signals, or climbing the rigging. Brie's heart jumped to her throat when she saw a young man slip and make a grab at one of the topmast stays, but he didn't fall. The next instant he was scurrying up the ratline like a monkey, as if he hadn't just nearly missed a thirty foot plunge to his death.
Dominic was also on deck, she noticed. He was near the helm, talking to the gray-haired man at the wheel, but he seemed to be ignoring her presence entirely. Brie could not dismiss him as easily. He looked so vitally masculine, standing there with his feet apart, well braced, and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his greatcoat as the wind ruffled his ebony hair. Just looking at him brought a tingle to her skin. His body was superb, muscular and hard to the touch, and he knew so very well how to use it to make a woman . . .
Brie flushed, remembering his fierce lovemaking and the incredible passion he had so easily aroused in her, remembering also how he had shown his contempt by making her plead. She watched him wistfully, wondering if she would ever succeed in getting him to trust her again. She could understand why Dominic would feel hurt and betrayed, why he would want nothing more to do with her, but still she couldn't help wishing she hadn't lost the chance to win his love.
Feeling a sudden, tight ache in her throat, Brie turned abruptly and made her way forward to the bow. The English Channel stretched out before her, the waves catching the rays from the sun and dazzling her eyes with silver splendor. She could see the shoreline of France in the distance, and as she took in the beauty of the magnificent scene before her, she was able to forget for a moment the tension and heartache of the past few days.
The same could not be said for Dominic. In spite of his seeming indifference, he had been aware of Brie's presence from the moment she came up on deck. Indeed, she had never been out of his thoughts since he had woken that morning to a throbbing headache. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his gaze from inadvertently straying to where she stood at the rail.
She looked devastatingly lovely this morning, Dominic thought, seeing her in the cloak he had searched three different shops to find. He had roused two grumbling shopkeepers and a dressmaker from their beds to provide an adequate wardrobe for her, but it had been worth the trouble. The forest green color was stunning on her, just as he had expected it would be, and the way the rich sable framed her face was enchanting.
But it was more than Brie's beauty that kept her at the center of his thoughts, just as it was more than a severe hangover that was the cause of his savage mood. Each time he looked at her he could hear Jason's parting words ringing in his ears.
"You must marry her, Dominic," Jason had said when he learned Brie had spent the night in Dominic's room. "Your honor demands it. You have compromised the lady beyond all bounds."
Infuriated by the thought of being trapped into marriage, Dominic had sworn in response and told his friend to mind his own business. Jason had merely grinned. "I plan to do just that, my friend. My presence here is obviously de trop, so I will take myself back to London. I trust the next time we meet, I may wish you happy."
Dominic laughed mirthlessly. "You're more likely to read in the morning papers that my lifeless body has been discovered in some dark alley! Marriage to Brie would be impossible, as you well know."
"You have never been unable to manage a woman, Dom."
"Perhaps, but you are forgetting the circumstances. Would you have me bound to the family which has very nearly destroyed mine?"
"It is possible, of course, that there is a reasonable explanation and that Miss Carringdon is innocent of any involvement."
Dominic's expression hardened. "I can assure you, she will not find life very pleasant if I discover otherwise."
"Well, then at least refrain from passing sentence until you learn the true facts. It isn't like you to jump to conclusions. I agree that her killing Boulter seems more than just circumstantial, but she could be telling the truth. And I still say your judgment may be clouded by whatever personal feelings you have for her, whether you admit it or not."
Jason had been right about that, Dominic thought with a snort of self-disgust. His judgment was definitely clouded. Glancing at Brie again, he felt his fury rise. He was damned if he would let a conniving little jade force him into marriage.
Had she really been so devious? Has she really tried to entrap him? She looked so fresh and innocent standing there at the bow of his ship. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, and the sun glinted off her upswept hair, turning the shining tresses to fire. Dominic felt an urge to unpin those glorious russet locks and run his fingers through the silken mass—but he knew if he went near her, he was likely to find his fingers wrapped around her throat as he tried to choke the truth out of her.
Fortunately for Brie, his angry thoughts were interrupted when the Falcon s cabin boy came to announce that a luncheon had been laid out in the ship's stateroom. Captain Rogers turned the wheel over to the second mate and went below, but Dominic stayed up on deck. He needed a moment to get his anger under control, or he knew he would find himself back in England and facing murder charges.
Brie was seated at the table when the captain and three other of the ship's officers when Dominic at last joined them, and he couldn't help noticing the immediate effect his arrival had on her. One moment she was laughing delightedly at something Rogers had said, her eyes bright and sparkling. The next, she had stiffened visibly and lowered her eyes to the table. Dominic had trouble curbing the savage oath that sprang to his lips.
The meal could not have been called a success. Except for an occasional attempt at humor by the captain, the atmosphere remained subdued and even strained. Brie escaped as soon as politeness allowed, returning to her position by the rail where she tried to recapture her carefree feeling of a short while ago.
She failed miserably.
Angrily dashing away a tear with the back of her hand, she scolded herself for being an idiotic fool. What had she expected from Dominic? Warmth and affection? That he would come to trust her, perhaps even to love her? How could he when he barely acknowledged her presence? He had made it perfectly obvious that he would have preferred not to have her on board, for he had spoken little during lunch, and then only to the captain. His silence had chilled her, and she had discovered that she could bear his icy detachment no better than his anger. She shivered as she thought of the days ahead.
"Are you cold?"
Startled less by the question than the nearness of his voice, Brie turned to find Dominic standing behind her. He was watching her intently, but his expression was impossible to read. "Do you care?" she countered.
Something flickered for just an instant in his gray eyes, before they became impenetrable once again. "I can have Jacques find something warmer for you to wear," he said evenly.
Brie lifted her chin. "My cloak is quite adequate, thank you. Besides, I would not want to put Jacques to any trouble."
If she had hoped to provoke Dominic, she failed. Without replying, he moved to stand beside her at the rail, gazing out over the waves.
They were both silent for a time. Then, because she sensed Dominic would have preferred to remain so, Brie spo
ke. "I have not yet thanked you for letting me travel with you, my lord."
He shrugged. "I expect you would go to France, regardless. This way I can at least keep an eye on you and see that you don't run into the same trouble I found you in last night."
Brie flushed at his cool reminder of what had happened on the docks. "I haven't seen Lord Effing about," she observed, changing the subject. "Is he on board the ship?"
Dominic's mouth twisted wryly as he slanted a glance at her. "Jason returned to London this morning. It seems he was under the impression that I might prefer your company to his."
Wincing at his sarcasm, Brie wondered if she had been wise to start this conversation. "Well," she said, determined not to lose her temper before Dominic lost his, "allow me at least to thank you for the clothes you provided for me. It must have been difficult to come by them so early in the day."
"It was nothing."
"I marvel at the excellent fit."
Dominic's gaze swept her slender figure. "I've had a little practice," he replied blandly.
"Choosing garments for your mistresses, no doubt," Brie muttered.
She regretted her remark at once, for Dominic's gray eyes gleamed with sudden amusement. He turned toward her, leaning an elbow on the railing. "But of course, mademoiselle. I have always been generous to the women under my protection."
"I will not be your mistress!"
Dominic's mouth crooked in a provoking grin. "You haven't been asked yet, chérie," he said mildly. "Besides, I could hardly allow you to travel with me, dressed in those boy's rags you always wear."
Brie glared up at him, wanting to slap him. "How considerate you are, my lord! I suppose it was my ill fortune that your kindness didn't prevent you from forcing yourself upon me last night. Your behavior was despicable—" Brie's words were abruptly cut off as she found her arm caught in an iron grip, with Dominic's snarling face only inches from hers. Seeing the icy glitter in his eyes, Brie realized that she had finally moved him to anger, but the knowledge didn't give her much satisfaction. In fact, she was suddenly a little afraid of him.
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