Velvet Embrace (7 page)

"Seth is
not
a half-wit!" she spat furiously. "He can't help it if he's slow. He was born like that. Oh, how I detest it when people look down their noses at those who are less fortunate! Well, let me tell you,
your lordship,
Seth is as worthy in God's eyes as any of you well-born, titled, fashionable
fribbles
from London. And furthermore—" Brie's hands went to her hips as she drew herself up to her full, unpretentious height— "Furthermore, I don't need you to tell me what I can and can't do. If I want to go outside, if I want to dance
stark naked
in the snow, you have no right to order me otherwise. I intend to see Patrick and you had better not try to stop me. In fact," Brie added, her eyes flashing fire, "why don't you just take yourself back to the city? We don't want you here!"

Brie was too angry to notice the grim set of Dominic's jaw, but when she saw how his eyes had narrowed, she took an involuntary step backwards. The glittering chill in the gray depths frightened her. So did the silent pause which followed.

"Are you quite finished?" Dominic said finally, piercing her with his icy gaze.

The quiet menace in his tone was enough to make her shiver. "Yes," she replied, her own voice suddenly hoarse.

"Good. Now it's my turn. Sit down." Dominic took her arm in a firm grip and steered her toward the chair at the foot of the stairs.
When Brie made a move as if to break away, Dominic put a forceful hand on her shoulder.
"I said,
sit."

Stealing a worried glance at him, Brie decided to obey. Those penetrating gray eyes were as cold as a winter's day and twice as savage.

When Dominic spoke, his tone was harsh and clipped. "In the first place, I wasn't speaking of Seth. As you said, the lad can't help being what he is. I was referring to the older boy, Sheldon. He was inexcusably careless. Since you're in charge of the place, you might like to know that I threatened to thrash him if he ever comes near one of my horses again. In the meantime, I've put him to work chopping firewood. That should keep him occupied until I can attend to him."

"Oh," Brie said lamely, staring up at Dominic and realizing that she had misunderstood. Sheldon was the last person she would want around her own horses. And she could hardly fault Lord Stanton for being angry if one of his team had been injured. She felt like a royal fool now for shouting.

Dominic wasn't finished with her yet, however. "Second," he continued caustically, "you aren't dressed to go outside. You would never make it all the way to the stables in those skirts. The snow is four feet deep in places. We had to string a rope from the house to the barns merely to get some leverage against the drifts. Besides that, you'll get wet. With the
Dawsons
upstairs in bed and Patrick injured, we don't need another invalid."

"I don't get sick," Brie protested, although not very strongly.

"I'm not willing to take the chance," he said crushingly. "And last, you aren't needed at the moment." Brie's chin came up at that, and Dominic viewed her with mocking eyes. He had wondered how long that show of meekness would last. "Do you sicken at the sight of blood?" he asked abruptly.

"What?"

"Can you sew up a wound? Are you any good at nursing? Could you be of any real help to Patrick at the moment? His knee isn't a pretty sight. He's trying to be brave, but his injury is painful. I doubt that having a woman view his tears is the kind of comfort he wants."

Flushing, Brie lowered her gaze. She suddenly felt ashamed that she had been more concerned about her own pride than Patrick's condition. "Yes, you're right," she said humbly.

Dominic's harsh features softened a little. "Jacques is more than capable of handling the situation. He may not have studied medicine, but there is no one better at tending wounds. Patrick will be all right."

When Brie made no reply, Dominic put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. His eyes moved over her speculatively, lingering on her mouth. He was conscious of a fierce desire to taste her lips, to see if they were as sweet and luscious as they appeared. But this wasn't the time or the place.

"You and I have a number of things to discuss," he said instead, "but that can come later. At the moment I think it best that I get that laudanum for Patrick."

Brie nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from his. Her heart was beating too rapidly again, and there were hot little flashes running up her spine. She was conscious of an odd sense of disappointment when Stanton released her.

He had turned to mount the stairs by the time Brie came to her senses. "Lord Stanton," she called after him. He paused, one booted foot on the stair as he glanced down at her. As his gray eyes locked with hers, Brie felt a strange current pass through her body. It left her a little breathless.

"I . . .
I beg your pardon for shouting at you," she managed to say.

A smile's shadow touched the corner of his mouth. "I must admit, no one has ever called me a 'fashionable
fribble
' before now, at least not to my face."

"I a
m sorry.

"Very well, apology accepted."

"Is there anything I can do?"

One of his black brows rose. "Can you cook?"

"Not much, I'm afraid."

"You might see what food you can find in the pantry, then. We're cut off from the village and likely to remain that way for several days. Do what you can to start breakfast. It would be best for the
Dawsons
to have something bland like gruel, but the rest of us will need something more substantial. I'll be back shortly to help."

Brie nodded and rose. "There is one more thing," Dominic added, surprising her. When she looked up at him expectantly, she could see the mocking glint in his eyes. "If you do decide to dance naked in the snow," he drawled outrageously, "let me know. I expect I would enjoy watching."

Brie opened her mouth to retort, but then thought better of it and pressed her lips together. She had already made a fool of herself once this morning by losing her temper. She wouldn't do so again, no matter how deliberately provoking Stanton was. Instead, she squared her shoulders and turned to put her cloak away in the closet. Fortunately for her new resolve, she didn't see the amused smile that was playing on Dominic's lips.

Brie went directly to the kitchen, determined to forget her unpleasant confrontation with Stanton and regain her composure. By the time she had finished checking what food the Lodge had on hand, however, she was feeling frustrated. Like the sickroom, the kitchen was not one of her areas of expertise. She had been trained from an early age to manage a large estate, but her training hadn't actually included learning how to cook. She had merely needed to set standards for her servants and see they were upheld. Now she fervently wished she had paid more attention when her mother had instructed her about household matters. Well, Brie thought with a defiant glance around the kitchen, she would just have to make the best of the situation.

At least the larder was well stocked. Her search through the storeroom revealed a large haunch of beef, several smoked hams, a side of bacon, and a variety of winter vegetables. There were also a few loaves of bread, as well as some different cheeses.

They could always have toasted bread and cheese, Brie decided. And there was plenty of cider and ale.
Tea and coffee, too, if she could determine how much of each to use.
But the invalids needed a special diet. How did one make gruel, anyway?

Brie pushed a curl from her forehead and took a deep breath. This was no time to despair. At least she could find some cooking pots and set some plates out on the kitchen table. Besides, Stanton had said he would help, hadn't he?

Realizing she would be glad when he returned, Brie had to smile. She never would have guessed that she'd be grateful for his presence at the Lodge. But he had been helpful, even if his manner had been rather high handed. And she supposed she had to make allowances for his arrogance. Earls were a different breed of men, after all.

Brie was still in a charitable frame of mind when Dominic entered the kitchen a few moments later. She looked up from her task of folding napkins at the table and gave him a friendly smile. For a moment she even thought he might return her simple greeting, for he had halted in the doorway and was staring at her intently.

But then his brows drew together in a frown. "Something is burning," he said abruptly, his searching glance moving quickly around the kitchen.

"The skillet!"
Brie gasped, realizing she had set the pan on the hot stove. It was smoking now, darkening the air with greasy black fumes. Brie leapt to her feet and before Dominic
i
could stop her, reached frantically for the skillet. She dropped it even more quickly, giving a cry of pain as the hot iron burned her fingers.

Dominic reacted by grabbing Brie by the arm and dragging her across the kitchen. In an instant, he had shoved her out the back door and down the steps, then tumbled her to the ground and thrust her throbbing hand into a
snowbank
.

Brie was too stunned to speak for a moment. Then realizing that she was sprawling in the snow, freezing, while Stanton, forcibly held her there after he had practically threatened her life if she disobeyed him, she began to laugh.

Dominic liked the sound of her laughter. It was low and melodious and completely feminine. He grinned back at her. "I know
,
I was the one who told you not to go outside. But this will stop any blisters from forming."

"I didn't know the skillet would be hot," she said ruefully.

"You weren't jesting. You really don't know how to cook."

She nodded sadly. "I suppose I'm hopeless."

Dominic cocked his head, studying her. "I wouldn't say that, precisely. I expect your talents just lie elsewhere." He didn't voice his actual thoughts—that warming a man's bed was probably what she was best suited for. Instead, he lifted her hand, turning it palm up to inspect the burn. The injury didn't seem too serious, just a couple of red marks on her fingers. "Does it pain you?" he asked softly.

Hearing the suddenly husky note in his voice, Brie looked down in confusion. Her hand wasn't hurting anymore, unless one counted the throbbing sensation where Stanton's warm fingers touched her skin. "No," she replied a little breathlessly.

"You'll live, then." He smiled, letting his thumb absently caress her palm. "And fortunately, I know a little something about cooking. Do you think you could chop some vegetables for a soup without cutting yourself?"

Looking up, Brie found herself staring blankly at Dominic. She had been admiring his long, graceful fingers and wondering how they had gotten so tanned, but his melting smile had scattered her thoughts, making her forget entirely what they had been discussing. "What did you say?" she asked.

Dominic regarded her with amusement.
"Vegetables,
chérie
.
For a soup.
The broth will be good for our invalids."

Flushing at his knowing look, Brie pulled her hand away. "Yes, of course," she said hastily, feeling foolish for letting him affect her so. Struggling to her feet, she dusted the snow from her damp skirts and made her way carefully up the slippery steps to the house.

Dominic followed more slowly, letting his gaze linger on her trim hips. He hadn't had any trouble recognizing the look she had given him. That befuddled expression Brie had worn for a moment was no stranger to him, for he had often seen it on the faces of women he exerted himself enough to charm. Brie was most definitely susceptible to seduction, he decided, if not actually willing. And that meant it was only a matter of time before he had her in his bed.

Which was fortunate, Dominic thought with a grin. Otherwise being cooped up with her was likely to drive him to drink. He felt an ache in his groin every time he looked at her. Of course, he would have to make certain that she didn't belong to Julian. Honorably, he couldn't infringe on his friend's territory. But barring that, it should only be a few days.