Iron Dominance (12 page)

To her disappointment, when he slipped into the bathtub, he only cuddled her in his lap. “Remember,” he said, licking the very tip of her nose, “we’re not making love until I take you on a picnic. And thank you for not prying into anything of mine. I like that I can trust you.”

“Um. You’re welcome.” The simple compliment made her feel good—weird but good. She nestled up to him some more and laid her head against him at the snuggly juncture of chest and shoulder. She inhaled. Warm and lemon-soap fresh and extract of man. Yummy.

The next morning he slapped her bottom to wake her. Again, she’d slept through him rising.

He smiled, slung a frock coat over his shoulder, and ran his hand through his dark curls.

“Sorry. I’ll be distracted again today. I have another trip to town in a week or so. Political stuff—and I have to smooth some feathers first by telegraph. I’ll arrange for Kirsten to start you on a tour of the estate, in…three-quarters of an hour?” He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll catch up with you once I’m done. Try not to trip over Dankyo. The man is very protective of me, and it’ll take a while before he accepts you.”

Claire nodded. “I understand. I guess I’d feel the same way if I were him.”

Kirsten? Ah, yes
. The girl who looked after Theo’s bedroom. He trusted her to look over his property with no more than a serving girl as company? No guards? It gave her a ridiculously happy feeling. To be trusted so graciously in return made her feel like lying down at his feet. Trust inspired loyalty. It was infectious. Now she knew why he had such a tight cadre of people around him.

“What should I wear for this tour?”

He pulled her into his arms. “Something that you like. Have a look in the wardrobe.” He softly kissed her mouth. “I’ve had some more clothes put in there. Kirsten’s a lovely lady. You’ll find June at the nursery. Enjoy yourself.”

“I will.” She touched her mouth where he’d kissed her as he strode to the door.

She found a little red knee-length skirt, all ruffles and lace at the bottom, and a fitted bodice top to go with it. Twirling in front of the mirror made the skirt flip out to expose an indecent amount of leg. It was sexy and surely naughty, but when she thought of how Theo would approve, it made her warm inside.

Kirsten knocked at the bedroom door a few minutes later. In a plain blue and white dress, with her brunette hair secured in a bun, Kirsten looked happy and young enough to brighten any room. Claire compared her muscular figure with Kirsten’s—next to all those curves and softness, she was an overgrown warrior woman.

This woman had makeup on too. Did Theo expect her to wear makeup?

That, of course, was exactly her problem—she didn’t fit in here. She stood out like a sore thumb. Not feminine, and she certainly wasn’t going to be a house guard.

“The colonel said I was to give you a grand tour.” Kirsten pursed her mouth. “I’m not sure what that is…but we could start in the kitchens? Tell me if there’s something you’d rather see.”

“Oh. I have to see June. But the kitchen sounds good.”

They walked on in silence. Kirsten didn’t seem to mind and bounced with each step. What had she in common with this bubbly woman?

“Here’s the kitchen,” announced Kirsten, flinging open a white door off a hallway near the foyer.

Though the estate must house at least a hundred men and women, Claire was surprised at the size of the kitchen. The noise hadn’t carried into the hall, but the banging of metal pans and implements, the hiss of fires and ovens, and the chatter of the kitchen staff filled this room up. She wondered how their heads didn’t burst.

The aromas of roasted meat and vegetables mingled enticingly with mysterious herbs and spices. Inside a massive steel glass-front oven, a pig rotated on a spit. Her mouth watered.

By the time she and Kirsten emerged from the kitchen into the hallway, they’d been fed several pastries and tidbits of meat by the head cooks, Jonathan and Maria. Her stomach gurgled from the unexpected fullness.

They continued on to a two-story open area studded with pots overflowing with pink blossoms. A set of white doors led outside. This would be the back of the mansion.

Claire licked a smear of liqueur off her finger. “I thought it was bad to have two head cooks. Isn’t there a saying about that spoiling the broth?”

“Um?” Kirsten screwed up her face. “Is there? Who cares? As long as I get fed. Come on. I’ll show you the gardens.”

Once past the doors—three broad stone steps led down from a rear colonnade—Claire paused. This was the first time she’d been allowed outside the mansion. She’d been prepared for some hostile looks, yet every member of household staff had been friendly. It must be because Kirsten was by her side.

For two or three hundred yards, a sea of grass stretched, pure green and mown to within an inch of the earth. Past that, eight low whitewashed buildings interrupted the flatness. Automatically, she put each of them into place on the map in her head.

“This way.” Kirsten beckoned to the left.

After checking the rows of vegetables with the ancient head gardener, George, Claire gained a new respect for gardeners. She’d planted seeds and watered and even had a try at swinging a hoe. June was George’s wife. She emerged from a small greenhouse and stood with arms akimbo, tut-tutting while shaking her head slowly at Claire.

“Oh, June, I’m so sorry for what I did. Will you forgive me?”

June sighed, wrinkling that squashed nose of hers. “Course I will. Come here, girl, and get a hug. It’ll make us both feel better.”

Tentatively she walked up and put her arms around the woman. She was big and round and smelled of freshly baked bread and oranges. And except for Theo, she gave the best hugs ever, even if she was six inches shorter.

“Thank you,” Claire murmured. This was all so strange—lovely but strange.

Next stop were the kennels, but along the way, Claire found herself looking at her hands. They ached in new places from the rough handle of the hoe, and she’d raised a sweat from the effort. The smell of fresh soil and the sight of the green seedlings half uncurled in their seedbeds made her think of life.

If I ever have to leave, what am I going to do
? Every hour she stayed, made her want even more to stay. Would there come a day when she’d feel safe enough to tell Theo what she was and why she’d been on the airship?
Hi there. I’m an assassin, and I may have been assigned to kill you
. Maybe there just wasn’t a right way to say that. And maybe her secret was buried so deep in the PME military archives that no one would find out. If she left here, she’d miss more than Theo. There were things to do here she’d never imagined were worthwhile attempting. Gardening, of all things. She smiled a little sadly.

Kirsten pointed across the open lawn. “That’s the barracks over there and the firing range and Henry’s vehicle depot.”

A vehicle depot? Her professional curiosity prodded at her. “What sort of vehicles?”

“Oh, Henry has the steam limousine and a little fast car thing, and then there’s the landships.”

“Landships? As in mobile armored vehicles? With cannon and tracks?” Her voice peaked. “Whatever for?”

Kirsten turned and did a dancing backward walk. “Don’t know really. Ask Dankyo or the colonel. Say…” She blushed, her cream complexion reddening markedly. “What do you think of Mister Dankyo? He’s rather cute, isn’t he?”

“Cute!” What did she say to that? “Um…I suppose he’s quite handsome.”
And intimidating and angry.

“Handsome!” She giggled. “He scares me half to death but yeah”—she cocked her head—“I wouldn’t mind his arms around me. But, don’t you tell him I said so! Swear you won’t!”

Claire shook her head. “I won’t. Never.”
Lord. I have a hard time not getting shot by the man whenever he sees me, let alone talking to him.

“Good. Phew. That was just girl talk, you know?”

“Sure.”

Now, that really nonplussed her. Girl talk—she’d only ever come close to that with Francine. She sneaked a sideways look. Maybe they could be friends, even if Kirsten was bubbly and didn’t understand Dankyo should only
ever
be touched with a long pole.

In another of the low white buildings, in a cramped office beside the kennels, she met the kennel master. His desk was covered with books, pens, and paper.

“Hello! Mr. Theo!” The kennel master was short, with thin tangled hair, and faded clothes. Behind him, through a shut paneled door, came a cacophony of howls and barks.

“Morning, Filip.”

Claire turned to find Theo behind her. He rested his hand on her shoulder. This casual possession of her body made her look sharply at him.

He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “Miss me?”

She took a quick breath. Where he’d touched tingled with heat. She paused, chagrined at how much he affected her. “Yes.”

“Good.” His eyes softened.

That pleased him
. Knowing that made her giddy.

“Kirsten. You can go back to your duties. Thank you, dear.”

She curtsied. “It was a pleasure, sir.” She nodded at Claire and left.

“Such a good time this is, Mr. Theo! The bitch, she is whelping soon! Tomorrow maybe.” He sniffed through his squashed nose. “And this is Claire! I have heard of you from June.” He bent and took her hand, kissed the back.

“Oh. Have you? I’m pleased to meet you, Mr.—”

“Filip! Just call me Filip. Come! Look at my babies.”

His babies, as he called them, were wolfhounds. Behind the door, in a long narrow room split into runs, dogs ran back and forth, barking and whining. At the first run, a bitch with teats almost bursting with milk rested on a purple pillow. Her big eyes looked up at Filip with adoration as he jumped the little gate, then stooped to pat her.

“Soon, hey, Angeliona?” He peeked at Claire. “She’s my favorite. I’ll be watching her all night to make sure her little ones come out all right.”

She nodded. Angeliona unraveled her long legs, heaved onto her feet, then padded over to the gate Claire leaned on.

“She wants a pat, Miss,” Filip said.

The dog’s head cleared the waist-high gate easily. Her shaggy brown coat felt rough under Claire’s palm.

“You are beautiful, Angeliona,” whispered Claire, squatting to pat her some more. “May you have many bouncing puppies.” The dog rested her chin on the gate, then slurped her warm tongue along Claire’s arm. Her doggy breath was sweet if reminiscent of fresh meat. Had she’d chosen to rise up on her hind legs, the wolfhound could have put her paws on Claire’s shoulders.

“I see you like my dogs.” Theo’s words brimmed with laughter. He gently rested his hand on Claire’s head, then took hold of her shoulders and tugged her upright.

“Am I another pet?” she asked wryly, turning in the circle of his arms.

“Perhaps. Time to do some work. You promised to write out everything in triplicate. Remember?” He kissed the tip of her nose.

“Oh. Yes.” Anxiety jolted her. She needed to distract Theo—before he figured she was worried. She tilted her head down, leaned into him. “What if I only do it in duplicate?”

“Are you tempting me? I might have to spank you. Come.”

Simply waving a good-bye to Filip, Theo headed for the door.

Spank me? What have I gotten myself into?

She caught up to him outside. “I wanted to stay a bit longer.”

“Hmm.” He smoothed back the hair straying across her face, pressed her against the white wall, crushing daisies underfoot. The ridges of the stonework etched into her back. The hard bulge in his trousers pressed into her mound until she could feel him throb under her. He kissed her, tongue tip anointing her lips then he nibbled her lower lip before he moved his mouth over hers.

“Mmm. This is nice,” she managed to whisper.

“If you’d”—another small kiss—“stayed a minute longer, Filip might have had a heart attack.”

“Why?” Her eyelids fluttered, and she fought not to writhe against him.

“Squatting on the floor, like that, I rather think he received an eyeful.”

She snapped open her eyes. “Oh. I’m not used to skirts.”

Another, harder, kiss ground against her lips. When the pressure of his body lifted from her, it took a moment before she realized he’d strode onward. Mouth open, she counted to ten before following.

Two of the manor staff walked across the open ground. Neither cast the slightest look in her direction, though surely they’d noticed the kiss.

“Why didn’t you say? Filip will—”

“Don’t concern yourself. He’ll probably just adore you even more than he already does. Men are like that.” He grinned. “He could see you liked the dogs, and that puts you way ahead of most to start with.”

“Oh.” She took hold of his elbow. “Why do you keep wolfhounds?”

“It’s a tradition with my family. They also patrol with the house guards, and since we pasture a few sheep to the north, they help to deter the wolves. Sometimes, when my schedule permits, I hike up there to help out. Though it’s an indulgence Dankyo detests.”

“Oh. Dankyo does detest a lot.” She cast him a sideways glance. The easy lope of his long legs spoke of an active man who did more than sit at desks. “I’d wondered how you kept fit.”

“There’s also a small gymnasium in the manor, and I swim when I can.” He laughed. “Why? Would you like to join me? I could do with some competition.” His tone and the challenge in his eyes suggested more than merely keeping fit.

A thrill spread from her pussy, radiated down her thighs.
Keep walking; this is nothing.

“Perhaps I would. No horses?” She kept her head down, walking on, thinking cold, clear thoughts, determined not to let her body take charge.

“No. There’s two steam cars in the vehicle depot. And the gyro, of course, if I need something faster. Why?”

She shrugged. “I just thought horses were what you had in places like this.” Her gaze took in the estate.

He laughed. “Mmm. Maybe I’ll get a stable going, then. I do ride.” He eyed her. “You also?”

“Um. No.” She cocked her head, squinting under the midday glare. “I would like to learn, though.”