Velvet Embrace

by Nicole Jordan

  Dominic at last tore his gaze away. Tossing his coat in the chair, he lowered his pistol and turned to place it on the mantle, his back making a wide target as he reached for the second foil. That seemed to be the moment Germain had been waiting for, for he flung Brie to one side and lunged at his opponent.

  Brie cried out in warning, but she realized an instant later that her shout hadn't been needed. Dominic had given the appearance of letting down his guard, but he had obviously been anticipating Germain's action, since he managed to ward off the sudden attack with surprising quickness.

  The clash of steel rang out, reverberating in the small room, while Brie's heart rose to her throat and stayed there. She backed against the wall, out of range of the flashing blades, where she anxiously watched the two combatants.

  The fight seemed so unequal. In spite of his agility and superb physical conditioning, Dominic's skill was drastically diminished without the use of his sword arm. His defense was slow, even awkward at times, and the sweat glistening on his brow told her that his reflexes were being strained to the limit. When he barely parried a thrust in time, Brie's hand flew to her mouth, smothering a cry.

  Germain, on the other hand, had not yet begun to labor. He fought conservatively at first, but he seemed to gain confidence each time he lunged. And his advantage was beginning to tell. Although he hadn't yet broken through his opponent's guard, he was continuously driving, pressuring Dominic to retreat again and again.

  Brie had no idea how long they fought—it could have been minutes or hours—but the interval stretched into an eternity. She bit deeply into her knuckle when Germain gave a sudden leap and crashed into Dominic. His thrusting blade swung wide, but the impact sent both men hurtling over the back of a sofa to the floor. They were both on their feet in an instant, warily circling each other once more.

  Unwilling to give up his advantage, Germain pressed the attack. His foil hissed as it made a slashing arc, and the point found Dominic's left shoulder, slicing through his shirt and leaving a deep gash from which blood welled freely.

  Dominic stumbled backward, but Germain didn't let up for even an instant. Once more he advanced, flinging a small table from his path with a snarl, sending it crashing to the floor. Once more Dominic retreated, whirling away at the last moment as Germain's blade sliced through the air.

  Seeing the triumphant gleam in Germain's eyes, Brie shuddered. She had never seen such hatred and lust for blood as was on his face, and she knew if sheer malevolence could win, he would have been declared the victor before the battle had ever been joined.

  He moved slowly toward Dominic, stalking him like he would wounded prey, while Dominic backed away, moving ever deeper into a corner of the room. When she saw how Dominic was boxing himself in, Brie wanted to scream out a warning. But she bit her knuckle until she tasted blood, knowing that any sound she made might prove to be a fatal distraction.

  Dominic's back was pressed against the wall before he finally stopped retreating. Brie couldn't see Germain's gloating expression, since he was facing away from her, but she could see the slow, taunting smile that curled Dominic's lips. That mocking smile seemed to infuriate Germain, for he growled and made a wild lunge.

  Forever afterward Brie would remember that terrifying moment when the two combatants stood locked together. The room became deathly still, and she felt her heart stop beating. An endless moment elapsed before anything happened. Then slowly, Germain slumped to the floor.

  It was another moment before Brie even registered that it wasn't Dominic who lay sprawled on the floor, a rapier buried deep in his chest. She gave an anguished sob and took a faltering step toward him. In response, Dominic turned his head to meet her gaze across the room.

  One side of his waistcoat was stained a bright crimson, while his face was ashen, the color of dirty snow. Brie saw his lips twist in a faint smile. Then, before she could break out of her horrified trance, Dominic swayed and sank to the floor beside Germain.

  Chapter Twenty

  A full thirty-six hours passed before Dominic regained consciousness. When he woke, it was to find Jason slumped in a chair beside his bed, looking disheveled and weary. Morning sunlight streamed in the open window and the cheerful dancing rays set devils pounding in Dominic's skull. He winced at the bright light, wishing he were still unconscious.

  When he raised a hand to shield his eyes, Jason roused himself and sat up. "Well, at last! I was beginning to wonder if you would pull through. How do you feel?"

  "Like the very devil," Dominic rasped, his voice sounding strangely hoarse. When Jason chuckled in relief, Dominic frowned. "Have you been here all night?"

  "Yes. And the night before that as well. I arrived just before Jacques carried you in. I would have been here sooner except that I lost Germain's trail. He escaped by killing his guard, and I—"

  Dominic reached out to grip Jason's arm. "Brie . . . where is she? Is she all right?"

  Jason didn't seem surprised by the anxious question. "I imagine she is in her room," he replied calmly. "After the doctor stitched that gash in your shoulder, he gave Miss Carringdon a draught to make her sleep. She hadn't stirred last night when Katherine Hewitt came in to check on you. And yes," Jason added when Dominic's grip tightened, "I believe she is all right, or at least as well as any woman can be after an ordeal like that. I really didn't get a chance to speak to her about it. I was too busy preventing the doctor from bleeding you."

  Dominic relaxed his grip and leaned back against the pillows, shutting his eyes. "Damn his soul," he cursed in a toneless voice.

  Jason didn't have to guess whom he meant. "Well, I expect Germain is well on his way to perdition by now. You'd do better to concern yourself with Julian. He's still fuming because you wouldn't allow him to go with you to find Germain. He wanted to kill the bastard himself."

  When Dominic didn't answer, Jason picked up a glass of water from the bedside table and held it to his patient's dry lips, ordering him to drink. He was prepared for an argument, but Dominic obeyed wordlessly.

  "Don't let it eat on you, Dom," Jason said quietly when the glass was empty. "Brie's a survivor. She'll manage to get over it. She was rather pale when Jacques brought her here, but she had full command of herself. In fact she seemed more concerned about your injuries than anything else. She wouldn't drink her medicine until you had been sewn up, and I nearly had to force her to leave."

  Clenching his black-shadowed jaw, Dominic focused his gaze on the window. "I want to see her."

  Jason stood up, rubbing the stubble on his own chin. "I wouldn't advise it just yet. You look like death, and you need a bath and a shave more than I do. Besides, that bandage needs to be changed. I'll go fetch some clean linen to bind your arm and send a man up to help make you presentable. I can't allow Miss Carringdon to visit you when you aren't wearing a stitch to hide your naked splendor."

  When Dominic scowled with a semblance of his former spirit and said adamantly that he refused to be nursemaided, Jason merely grinned. "Be quiet, Dom. You're my patient now and I intend to see that you have proper care. And," he added sweetly when Dominic flung a particularly violent oath at him, "you'll eat before you talk to Miss Carringdon."

  Dominic swore again as Jason left the room, but as soon as he was alone, he raised himself to a sitting position. The effort was far harder than he had expected. By the time he had managed to haul himself from the bed, he was breathing heavily and his body was covered with sweat.

  He struggled into his dressing gown, but when a wave of dizziness nearly overcame him, he clung to the bedpost and waited for the weakness to pass. He was still leaning there when the door to the bedchamber flew open.

  Julian stood in the doorway, glaring, his feet planted in a belligerent stance, his face flushed with anger. He barely gave Dominic time to lift his head before he crossed the room in two giant strides and drew back his fist. The punch he let go nearly dislocated Dominic's jaw as it sent him sprawling across the bed.

  Groan
ing in pain, Dominic clutched at his shoulder, while Julian flexed his fingers in satisfaction. "You bloody bastard! I've been itching to do that for ages, and you damn well deserve another. Brie's hands were burned, goddamn you! Blisters the size of walnuts on her wrists. And you're to blame."

  Dominic made no attempt to defend himself. He merely lay there, gritting his teeth against the pain.

  Still glaring, Julian leaned over him and realized that the stitches in Dominic's shoulder had broken loose. Blood was welling beneath his fingers and running freely across his chest. Muttering an oath, Julian grabbed a towel from the washstand and pressed it tightly against the gaping wound.

  "You bloody well deserve to bleed to death," he said between clenched teeth. "Brie got those burns trying to get a rope off her wrists, damn you. That snake had tied her up."

  Dominic shut his eyes. "Where . . . is she?" he asked in a tormented whisper. "I must talk to her."

  "She's better off without your company, if you ask me."

  Dominic flung a hand up to cover his face, as if to ward off some nightmarish vision. "God . . . I've never been more terrified in my life. I couldn't do a thing but watch while that bastard. . . . He held a knife to her throat and would have killed her had I shown the least concern. Damn it, Julian, I would have given my own life before I let that vermin hurt her! I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. God . . . what he must have done to her."

  Hearing the tortured explanation wrenched from Dominic. Julian felt his own anger ebb. He had been frantic with worry when Brie had disappeared and a search had turned up no trace of her whereabouts. When a message had come from Germain, saying that Brie was his hostage and that Stanton should meet him, Julian had immediately sent messengers to intercept Dominic on the road. But then Dominic had insisted on handling Germain alone. Julian had been infuriated by his own helplessness, but when he had seen Brie's injured wrists and heard her recount the tale of her abduction, he had become livid.

  Now, hearing the anguish in Dominic's tone, Julian experienced a twinge of guilt. "Germain didn't touch her, Dom," Julian said, wanting to console him.

  "Yes, he did—"

  "I mean that he didn't rape her. He hit Brie instead and knocked her senseless. She didn't come around until shortly before you arrived."

  Seeing the intense relief on Dominic's face, Julian wondered how he possibly could have thoughts his friend didn't care about Brie. If that wasn't the agony of a man in love, he would never again pretend to understand human nature.

  "Germain told Brie you had killed Cassandra," Julian said quietly, "but she had enough sense not to believe that drivel. She's no fool, Dom, even if she behaves impetuously at times. And I think she cares for you more than you realize. She went with Germain in the first place because he told her you had been hurt and needed her."

  When Dominic said nothing, Julian sighed. "Well, then, I guess I owe you an apology for planting you a facer. Come on, get back in bed while I—"

  "You hit him?"

  Both men looked up to see Brie standing in the doorway. She swept into the room, her eyes flashing when she saw the blood on the towel. "My God, Julian, you've made his shoulder start bleeding again! Go and fetch Jacques, quickly!"

  When Julian sheepishly obeyed, Dominic managed to smile wanly. "Still defending the weak and helpless, I see."

  Brie gave him a quelling glance as she helped him under the covers. "What were you doing out of bed?" she asked, seeing him grimace. "Your wounds are too serious for you to be up this soon."

  "I wanted to talk to you."

  She avoided answering as she bent over him to inspect the damage to his shoulder. When she dabbed at his bloody chest with the towel, Dominic caught her arm. "Brie. Please . . . I want to apologize. I had no intention of putting you in such danger. Truly, I had not thought Germain would involve you."

  "It was not your fault," she replied, uncomfortable with both the subject and Dominic's nearness.

  Dominic glanced down at her bandaged wrists and his jaw hardened. "But it was my fault—for not being prepared. I knew what Germain was like and I should have expected his next move. He was a dangerous man, Brie, with abduction and murder only two of the specialties in his bag of tricks. He had already killed once, in that same house. The boy was your grandfather's son Nicholas."

  "I . . . I realized that at the time, from your conversation."

  "And can you forgive me?"

  Feeling his penetrating gaze search her face, Brie looked away. "There is nothing to forgive. Indeed, I should be thanking you for rescuing me. I was never in my life so pleased to see anyone."

  "I regret that you had to witness our fight, especially when I had to kill Germain. But I couldn't let him live, Brie, not after what he had done to you."

  "He didn't harm me," she said quietly, remembering the pain of Germain's rough treatment and the greater anguish of Dominic's indifference.

  "But I think you misunderstood my words at first. I had to say what I did. Had I given Germain the slightest indication I was concerned for you, he wouldn't have hesitated to use his knife on you."

  Brie looked down at the towel she was twisting in her hands. "I realized that, too . . . when I had time to consider. But your . . . indifference was difficult to bear."

  "Was it? Is that why you refused my proposal, Brie? Because you thought me indifferent?"

  When she made no reply, Dominic felt hope surge within him. He took a deep breath and drew Brie down to sit beside him. "I wasn't at all indifferent," he said solemnly. "The moment you left, I realized what a fool I had been—for not telling you that I love you."

  Slowly, Brie lifted her head to stare at him. "You love me?"

  Dominic studied her face, noting the guarded expression in her eyes. Striving to find the right words, he lowered his voice to a mere whisper. "You refused me once, Brie, but I hope to God it was my manner of approaching you and not your feelings that prompted your refusal. I'm asking you again. . . . Will you marry me?"

  When she still remained silent, he gently cradled her face between his hands, holding her gaze. "I want you for my wife, my love. Will you have me?"

  Brie searched his face intently, looking for any sign that he might be playing a cruel game with her. But his gray eyes were completely serious, holding a touch of uncertainty in their depths that went straight to her heart. "Are you sure Dominic? I couldn't bear it if you—" She broke off, her voice choking with tears.

  Seeing her weakening, Dominic pressed his small advantage. "If it's your independence that concerns you, I'll have my attorneys draw up a contract leaving you in full possession of your fortune, to be given to your children or your designated heirs—whomever you choose. I'll even have them include a paragraph stipulating that your manner of dress is beyond my authority. You can wear those blasted breeches whenever you care to. I don't want to deprive you of your freedom, Brie. I only want you—on any terms you care to name."

  When she lifted her gaze to his, he could read the answer in her eyes, could see the love shining in their clear depths. His heart soared with joy. But he wanted to hear Brie's answer from her own lips. "Will you marry me?" he repeated softly.

  Brie nodded.

  "Yes?"

  "Yes, I will marry you."

  Dominic closed his eyes in sheer relief. Drawing Brie into his arms, he simply held her, his cheek pressed against her hair. "How can I ever begin to say I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you?"

  With tears of happiness running down her cheeks, Brie buried her face in his good shoulder. "You don't need to, just so long as you love me."

  "God, Brie. . . . Do you know how humble you make me feel? I don't deserve you."

  When she didn't answer, he leaned back a little and with a finger, tilted her face up to his. Seeing the tears trickling down her cheeks, he gave her a devastatingly tender smile. "No tears, my love. This is to be a joyous occasion."

  "I know," Brie sniffed, wiping her eyes. "It's just that I don't believe this is h
appening."

  "You should have accepted my proposal the first time and saved us both this misery."

  "The way you phrased your proposal hardly inspired confidence in a rosy future, my lord," she interjected with some of her usual spirit. When Dominic's gray eyes filled with laughter, Brie pressed her hands against his chest and sat up. "I would not have married you under any circumstances, since you thought yourself forced to have me."

  He grinned slowly, a heart-stopping grin. "But you are still forcing my hand, chérie. I would rather cut out my heart than let you go." Still looking at her with that mixture of love and laughter and tenderness that held her spellbound, Dominic pulled Brie into his arms once more. "I do love you, you know."

  "You do?" she murmured, her thoughts suddenly distracted by the way his hands were caressing her back.

  "Yes, my darling Brie," he whispered in her ear. "I love you passionately, madly, desperately. And I'd like to show you. Unfortunately, Jacques will be along at any moment, not to mention that Julian would truly kill me if I made love to you right now."

  Coming to her senses, Brie sat up abruptly. "Julian would kill us both," she said, self-consciously dabbing at Dominic's wound again.

  Dominic grinned. "I think we should send him to London. Someone has to tell your family that you are safe, and he can make up some kind of story to reassure the Langleys. Perhaps he can phrase it so Sir Miles won't feel obliged to call me out."

  "My uncle won't call you out. Not if you intend to marry me."

  Dominic reached out to run a teasing finger over her lips. "Does that mean I can have my wicked way with you?" he said huskily.

  Seeing the gleaming lights in his gray eyes, Brie flushed. "You're in no condition to undertake such an activity. You're wounded, remember?"