Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales 2) (4 page)

“I believe you asked for the lady?” Miss Ward cleared her throat and shot him one of her looks that he imagined was supposed to cause his feet to shake within his Hessians.

“That will be all, Miss Ward. If you’ll excuse us then?” He lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her to object, but instead she gave Isabelle’s arm a little pat and closed the door behind her.

Chapter Four

One cannot simply learn music. For a state of being cannot simply be taught. One must feel music, one must breathe music, and in the end, one must be willing to die for it.

—The Diary of Dominique Maksylov

Isabelle watched Dominique’s mouth twitch, but wasn’t sure if he was attempting to keep himself from growling or if that was his idea of a smile.

Either way, it was frightening. It would be so much easier to be unafraid if he would simply do something about his state of dress.

His face was now almost covered with a short beard, and his hair was falling into his eyes and down his shoulders. Yet, she could still see his piercing eyes, and for that reason alone, she remembered his handsomeness. Well, that and his blinding smile. But it wasn’t often that he chose to offer one.

“My, my, you didn’t tell me how attractive she would be,” a male voice said from behind her.

With a gasp, she turned and nearly fainted when the man set his eyes on her.

Truly, it was as if her lot in life was to be surrounded by men with eyes that seemed to pierce a person’s soul.

Liquid-golden brown eyes glowed back at her. The man’s face was undeniably handsome and strong. Thick black hair cascaded into a messy heap on his forehead; the man smiled revealing perfectly white teeth that much reminded her of a hungry wolf.

“Forgive my friend, Isabelle, he seems to have forgotten how to behave in front of a lady.”

Isabelle snorted. “Yes well, that would put you in good company, wouldn’t it, my lord?”

“Bravo!” The other man clapped. “And she packs such a bite too! Tell me, my dear, have you any interest in leaving him for me? I daresay I’d have you forgetting this beast’s name after a few minutes in my company.” He winked and folded his thick arms across his broad chest.

Isabelle instantly backed away.

“Sure, scare her more while you’re at it, Hunter.” Dominique’s voice held somewhat of a cheerful humor, giving Isabelle pause. She whipped around to look at her captor’s face.

A weight seemed to have momentarily lifted, and she wondered if possibly it was because of the other rude man in the room.

“This—” Dominique held out his hand and pointed at the other man— “Is my good friend, Hunter Wolfbane, Duke of Haverstone."

Isabelle gasped. “The Wolf?”

“Ah, my reputation precedes me. I always feel so jolly when others know of my certain skill set.” His golden eyes blazed a hot trail from her head straight down to her toes.

And because she was exhausted, angry, and possibly a bit insane, Isabelle marched toward him and poked him in the chest. “Now see here! I may know who you are, but I also know you wouldn’t hurt a hair on my head, not with bigger beast a few feet away from me! Whoever taught you manners anyway? Gypsies?”

“I think I’m in love.” Hunter tilted his head and sighed.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “I’m sick of being threatened.” She turned her fury onto Dominique, who had the good sense to back up as she marched toward him. “You demanded I eat with you, so let us eat. Otherwise, I’m leaving.”

Dominique’s mouth opened then snapped shut. All the while Hunter clapped and howled with laughter.

“After you.” Dominique pointed to the table on the far end of the room where a dinner lay in wait.

“Thank you,” she huffed, still inwardly shaking over her outburst. Since being polite hadn’t worked, she thought of a new tactic. If Dominique was going to be such a beast, perhaps he only responded well when people poked at him.

Which is exactly what she intended to do.

Poke him until he relented and let her go home, or at least learned manners.

All three of them sat at the table.

Both men reached for the meat but paused their hands mid-air when she cleared her throat.

“Gentlemen? We have not yet said grace. Now, please bow your heads.” She cleared her throat. “Merciful God in Heaven, we beseech thee…” Was beseech an actual word? She continued, “We thank you for this lovely meal, though I apologize in advance for the men disgracing your holy table.” A cough erupted, and then a foot began to tap on the floor. Isabelle was never one for church, and truthfully she hadn’t a clue what else to say, but in that moment, knowing she was irritating the very man she wanted to irritate the most, a wicked thought took root. She was going to recite the longest prayer known to mankind, even if her stomach growled in protest. And so she continued for ten long minutes. “…Thank you, Lord. Amen.”

At the ending both men cursed, which she was certain meant they were going straight to Perdition, considering she had just been talking to God, and they grabbed at the meat, proving their nicknames to be correct.

Beast and Wolf.

They ate in relative silence, except for the loud chewing and smacking of their lips. Good gracious, she thought, they were even more like their nicknames than she realized. They even ate like absolute animals! Isabelle wasn’t sure which unnerved her more. The fact that neither man was speaking to her, or that the ship began to heave as it pushed away from the dock.

Getting sicker by the minute, she managed to steal a look at Dominique across the table.

“Did you know—” Hunter tore a piece of meat from the platter—. “That Dominique enjoys long walks around his estate?”

“Hunter.”

“He also enjoys furry animals, you know the ones. They live in the forest that surrounds his estate. I’ve heard he even has a squirrel as a friend.”

“Hunter!” Dominique barked.

“He’s a passionate lover as well. No lady leaves his bed without—”

Why wouldn’t he stop talking? She felt slick with sweat and then the contents of Isabelle’s stomach heaved onto the floor.

“Throwing up one’s countenance,” Hunter finished.

Isabelle moaned, too sick to feel mortified that she had just retched in front of two infuriatingly attractive men.

Half-expecting them to shy away from her in outrage, she was stunned to find Dominique immediately at her side.

“Can you walk? Here, just lean on me.” He felt her forehead and mumbled something to Hunter, but she was barely listening. Her stomach did more flops.

Dominique led her out of the captain’s quarters onto the deck of the large ship. They were already far away from shore, or at least it seemed that way. Everything was pitch black.

“The horizon. You need to look at the horizon,” Dominique urged.

“There’s nothing to look at. It’s all black,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Try,” he demanded.

Nodding her head, she looked out at the horizon and still saw black but felt immensely better being on the deck rather than cooped up with the two men.

“You’ll get your sea legs soon enough.” Dominique sighed.

“Mayhap it was your presence that caused me to become ill.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Isabelle's shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. That was terribly rude of me. I don’t mean to constantly be on the attack, it’s just that…”

“It’s better this way,” Dominique growled. “This way I know exactly where you stand. Far, far away from myself, on the opposite end of what I could never hope to deserve or earn. Truly, if you were kind to me I may just have to like you, and as it so happens, we aren’t in any danger of that happening—not now, not ever.”

The man's mood swings were making her just as ill as the rocking boat. Shaking her head, she could only look at his stone cold face, the same face that minutes ago held compassion and tenderness. He either needed to visit Bedlam, or he truly was the type of man that would stop at nothing to push those away from him. Including her.

“I say, are you all right?” Hunter came up behind them. “Miss Ward says you should return to your room for a spell.”

“No!” she blurted. “I mean, that is, may I stay out on the deck for a while? I’m not used to being in such close quarters.”

Hunter studied her for a minute. “As long as you promise not to throw yourself overboard. I’m a dreadful swimmer and this one over here—” he pointed at Dominique— “would surely drown with all that facial hair.”

Dominique’s answer was to glare, but he didn’t deny the truth.

Hunter was obviously trying to cheer her up, but the man was just as much a devil as Dominique was. Only more cunning in the way he minced words. Almost as if he was waiting for the right time for her weakness to consume her, before he devoured her. But then again, that could just be the sickness and imagination playing tricks on her.

“I’ll try to restrain myself from such a calming idea,” Isabelle retorted, then walked away from both men.

****

“Well, I believe that went swimmingly.” Hunter clapped his hands together then pulled a cheroot out of his jacket and lit it. The winter air was crisp which was exactly what Dominique needed if his blood was to cool from being in such close proximity to Isabelle.

Her soft body smelled of lavender, and he found himself more than once breathing in the scent of her hair as he held her close to his body. For a moment he had forgotten who he was; his concern for her muddied his thoughts. That was until she stiffened beneath his touch.

How could he forget? He was the beast, and would always be such.

“Yes, well, I don’t believe I’ll be able to obtain her matrimonial yes on a night such as this.”

Hunter shook his head. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What the devil are you talking about? She’s ill! Even if she were healthy she still wouldn't be in agreeable mood.”

His friend blew out a puff of smoke. “She doesn’t have to be agreeable, she just has to agree, correct?”

“She’ll agree. I own her.” Dominique reminded him.

“Yes, but it seems to me she needs a little coaxing or reminding of that simple fact. She’s strutting all over the deck like a peacock, perhaps she should be reminded why they call you the beast, and me the wolf?”

The last thing he wanted to do was threaten her, but he wasn’t the most dangerous man in the vicinity. They could easily protect her between the two of them, but he would feel better if she was staying with him in the captain’s quarters rather than on an entirely different part of the ship. And although he owned her, he still couldn’t bring himself to completely ruin her further by forcing her to share a bed with him overnight in such a small area without first saying the vows.

And ship captains could perform ceremonies.

There would be no reason to wait.

Making his decision, he turned toward his friend. “How do we go about it?”

“Simple.” Hunter shrugged. “Make her believe there can be an unhappy ending to this little fairy tale.”

“Make her believe the nightmare,” Dominique finished.

“Precisely, where men beat women, and women obey. We both know you wouldn’t raise a hand to her, but she doesn’t know that, nor does she know what secrets you hide, or the rage within you, or that you feel guilty when you accidently step on an ant. All she needs to know is that you’d be upset with her if she gave you reason to think she would not accept in front of the captain.”

When Dominique didn’t respond, Hunter continued, “You hired me for a reason. I can be your greatest ally or strongest enemy. I’m good at reading people. She’s scared. She’s trying to provoke you and see how far she can push you. In order to provide her the protection of your name as well as your bed—you must give her a true reason to fear the Beast. If you cannot do it, I will.”

“Fine.” Dominique bit out. “And if she never forgives me?”

“Then you’ve kept your feelings and your heart intact, then you wouldn’t have throw yourself over a cliff for some simpering female. And we both know how disgusted you would be with yourself if you actually became vulnerable to the one person who had the power to break you with a single word or look.”

Dominique felt uneasy about how well his friend knew him and how well he read Isabelle. Part of him knew that behind all of Hunter's cross words lay a hidden agenda, a purpose. Nothing Hunter did was without reason. He was the most brilliant man Dominique knew and had constantly badgered him about getting a wife and writing music that didn’t provoke people to fall on their own swords.

The idea that he was now opposing the notion with such vehemence meant that he was likely using Dominique’s greatest fears against him in order to get him to marry the girl quickly.

And for some reason, Dominique didn’t care. Because he knew that Hunter was right about one thing. The girl was scared and her fear was what was protecting her from crumbling. If he fed the fear, he would have her in the palm of his hand.

His prize? Knowing she was safe from men like her father and men on this ship. It was all he could offer, and all he was willing to give.

With a curse he strolled toward where she stood on the opposite end of the boat.

Needing courage, he stole a glance at Hunter who had an amused smile on his face and was watching him from afar. A pox on him for making Dominique play the role of such a cad and tormentor!

“Isabelle?”

“Yes?” She turned around. Her blue eyes nearly made him forget the threat he was supposed to give her, but he stood strong. There were more dangerous men out there than him, and he would die before letting anyone touch what was his.

“You have two choices.” He circled her slowly as he pulled a dagger out of his jacket and began to play with it.

“And if I don’t care for either choice?” Her nostrils flared.

“Then I’ll kill you.” He said it simply, without emotion, and flicked the edge of the knife so it gleamed in the moonlight. “I would gut you from head to toe in front of the entire crew and throw your body overboard for the fish to consume. I’d cut out your heart and send it to your sisters, and then I would hunt both of them down until I did the same to them as well as the rest of your family.”