Velvet Embrace (55 page)

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.

She soon had another reason for wanting to leave her cabin; she was used to an active
life,
and with nothing to occupy her time, she shortly became bored. After nearly an hour of fighting nausea and restlessness, Brie decided to risk Dominic's disapproval and go topside. Retracing her steps along the companionway, she made her way up a steep flight of steps and found herself on the gleaming, well-scrubbed deck. A cold sea breeze stung her cheeks and whipped her skirts around her, but once she was in the open air, her queasiness disappeared. She found an unobtrusive spot on the aft deck where she could watch the receding shores of England shining golden in the early morning sunlight.

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.