Velvet Embrace (11 page)

Dominic watched her for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. Brie was shuddering and clutching her robe defensively about her as she tried to catch her breath. Someone had frightened her, he decided.
And quite badly, from the looks of it.
Unaccountably, the thought filled Dominic with anger, making him conscious of an oddly chivalrous urge to protect her.

For a moment he debated trying to comfort her, but then he decided against it. He was throbbing with desire, and in his present state he was more likely to attack her than soothe her fears. Besides, he would have other opportunities to overcome her reluctance while they were still snowbound.

Dominic gave a sigh as he thought of the cold bed that awaited him, but he rose to his feet. When he saw Brie cringe, he hesitated. "I mean you no harm,
chérie
," he said softly. "But to ease your mind, I will promise not to enter your room again without an invitation. You have my word on it."

Oddly enough, Brie believed him. She nodded mutely, unable to speak for the knot of apprehension in her throat. She heard Dominic's footsteps as he crossed to the door.

And then she was left alone with her fears.

Brie stood at her own breakfast room window, staring disconsolately at the bright winter landscape. She had returned home the previous day—although
escaped
was probably a more accurate word. She had been unable to face Stanton after that late-night encounter with him in her room. As soon as dawn had broken, she had taken a horse from the Lodge stables and ridden home to Greenwood. But at least she hadn't had to feel guilty about abandoning her responsibilities. Mattie's condition had improved greatly and Homer had recovered sufficiently enough to care for her.

The weather had improved as well. Snow still covered the ground, but much of it had melted under yesterday's sun and this morning's cloudless sky promised another mild day. The view from the window was lovely, although Brie wasn't in the mood to appreciate it. The landscape, normally a sweeping vista of green hills and meadows, was a blanket of white dotted with coverts and patterned with hedges and stone walls.

There really was no reason for her to feel so depressed, Brie reflected as she stared at the scenic tableau. Indeed, she had very good reason to be cheerful. A letter from the Duke of Mobley had been waiting for her when she returned home. His grace had at last agreed to send a prize four-year-old and a promising yearling to Greenwood in the spring. His capitula
tion signified the achievement of one of Brie's greatest ambitions. With her loyal staff and a great deal of hard work, she had been able to maintain the excellent reputation of the training stables started by her father, but the patronage of the duke would seal the future of Greenwood.

She should have been delighted. Instead, she was a jumble of conflicting emotions.

Her eyes clouded as she thought of her last encounter with Stanton. True, she had escaped his attentions without coming to any real harm. But she had nearly allowed him to seduce her. If she hadn't panicked, she would have lost her virtue to exactly the kind of man she had done her best to avoid in recent years.

Hot shame flooded through her as she remembered the feel of Stanton's lips on her breasts. What in heaven's name had come over her? How could she have allowed him to kiss her like that, to run his hands so intimately over her body? She should have known better.

That scene before the fireplace had been familiar. On the first night of her long ago elopement, she had almost given herself to her fiancé in front of a hearth. She had pulled back at the last moment, wanting to wait until the marriage vows had been exchanged, but then her betrothed had savagely attacked her, saying that he didn't intend to risk waiting any longer to secure her inheritance. He had nearly raped her before she had managed to hit him over the head with a fire iron and render him unconscious. Fortunately for Brie, her family had been able to hush up the scandal.

But this time she had no excuse for her behavior. Stanton was obviously a master at seduction, but she never should have fallen for his practiced charm. How easily he had stirred her desire! Brie groaned, recalling just how wantonly she had responded to him.

Knowing she had to find something else to occupy her thoughts, she seated herself at the breakfast table. There was no one to serve her, for she preferred breakfasting in solitude
without an army of servants hovering over her shoulder. Yet it was evident that her household staff had been hard at work.
A
basket of warm flaky rolls, crocks of butter and jam, and a pot of steaming hot coffee had been left on the table. There was also a good fire burning in the grate, and next to her plate, neatly arranged, was a stack of papers, a small notebook, and a pen and
standish
.

Sipping her coffee, Brie held up a report from her head trainer, John Sims, and tried to read. She found herself totally unable to concentrate. After several minutes of struggling, she gathered all the papers in her hand and with an uncustomary disrespect for her work, tossed the whole lot the length of the table. "Devil
take
it!" she muttered in frustration.

"Gabrielle!"

Brie looked up in surprise to see Katherine standing in the doorway. As usual, the elderly woman was severely dressed in a gown of drab gray merino, while her iron-gray hair was covered with a white cap. Her carriage was lacking its usual stiff elegance, however, for she was leaning heavily on a wooden cane. It was obviously a morning for disrupted routines, Brie reflected wryly; Katherine rarely rose before nine, for the pain in her joints was generally too severe.

Katherine composed her lips in a tight line as she eyed the disordered papers on the table. "It is highly improper for a lady to swear," she admonished.
"Particularly at this hour of the morning."

Wisely Brie avoided a direct reply. She poured another cup of coffee as Katherine made her way slowly to the table with the aid of her cane.

At one time Katherine Hewitt had been her governess, but for the past several years she had been acting as Brie's companion. There was genuine affection on both sides, but their relationship could more accurately be described as fond tolerance. Having little in common but a mutual need of each other, they had depended on one another since the death of Brie's parents, for Katherine had no home of her own and
needed the income the position earned, while Brie's single state demanded the presence of an older lady to lend it respectability.

Brie was in no mood to listen to a lecture on propriety this morning, though. "Couldn't you sleep?" she asked when Katherine was seated. "I thought your new medicine was more effective in relieving the pain."

Katherine grimaced as she tasted the strong coffee. "I couldn't bring myself to suffer the usual dose last night. I am paying for it now, though. I feel as if I slept on a bed of nails. The fault of the cold weather, I expect. But that wasn't what woke me. I had the strangest dream, not a bit of which I could remember. It left me with the oddest feeling that something unpleasant was about to happen."

"Well, it is," Brie said matter-of-factly. "My cousin is coming."

Katherine slowly nodded. "It concerns me that Caroline and Lord
Denviile
have not yet arrived."

"I doubt if anything more terrible than the storm has occurred to delay them. The snow has made it impossible to travel. More than likely they put up at an inn to wait out the weather. I wouldn't
worry,
Julian will take good care of Caroline. She probably thinks she's having a great adventure, even if she didn't want to come here in the first place."

"I confess I'm surprised. I never would have expected Lady
Arabella
to send her errant daughter here, of all places."

Brie slanted a glance at her companion. "Honestly, Katie, you make it sound as if Caroline has committed some crime and that Greenwood is a den of iniquity. She may be silly, but she is young yet. It was more than luck on my aunt's part that allowed her to discover Caroline's plans and prevent an elopement. Aunt
Arabella
has always watched her daughters with the eyes of a hawk."

Katherine raised an eyebrow. "So she sends Caroline to you?"

Not liking the implication, Brie stiffened. "Katherine, since my aunt devised this plan herself, I must be in her good graces once again. But I don't appreciate your subtle reminders of my past mistakes. All that happened a long time ago. It was a difficult lesson for me, but I
did
learn it. I imagine Aunt
Arabella
thinks I will be sympathetic to my cousin's plight, since Caroline seems to be repeating my history. And as little as I wish to have the girl foisted upon me, sending her to the country is the ideal solution. I expect Caroline will see it as sufficient punishment, since it takes her away from London.
Besides, who better than a spinster cousin to show her the error of her ways?"

"Well, you haven't taken to wearing caps yet," Katherine retorted. "I consider you far too young to have charge of a girl like that. Of course, the situation would be different if you were married."

Hearing the introduction of the familiar subject, Brie winced. Her refusal to marry was a frequent point of contention between them. Over the years, there had been any number of highly respectable suitors who had properly applied for her hand, but since her one disastrous experience with love, she had been determined to keep her heart closely guarded. She didn't think she could stand listening to Katherine lecturing her on the subject of marriage this morning, though. It had been bad enough being reminded
of her own
aborted elopement.

She drained her cup, then rose, bracing herself for the scold that was sure to come. She was wearing buckskin breeches and a coat of faded blue broadcloth that hid the curves of her slender figure. The shapeless outfit, along with her woolen leggings and scuffed leather boots, gave her the appearance of a peasant, and only a close inspection would have revealed that she wasn't the young man she resembled.

Katherine frowned as Brie pulled a peaked cap from her pocket. "Must you go out dressed as a ragamuffin, Gabrielle?" she demanded, addressing Brie by her given name as she always did when she was displeased with her charge.

Trying hard not to lose her temper, Brie deftly twisted her hair on top of her head and stuffed it under the cap. "I have
work
to do, Katherine. I'm taking Julian's new gelding to the south field this morning." She tucked a few errant curls out of sight and turned up the collar of her jacket, then picked up her riding quirt and leather gloves. Forcing a smile, she bent to kiss Katherine's wrinkled cheek. "Why don't you go upstairs and rest? I should be home for lunch, but don't wait for me." She heard Katherine sigh as she left the room.

She was used to such sighs, for Katherine rarely approved of anything she did. Her unconventional mode of dress in particular was the focus of a running battle between them. For that matter, her father's sister had never approved of her behavior either. Lady
Arabella
had been shocked by Brie's decision to continue to operate Greenwood as a training stable—considering it just short of scandalous.

Those years had not been easy for Brie. Managing such an enterprise would have been difficult enough for a man, but for a woman, it had been almost a Herculean task. Even Brie's wealth and position as Sir William
Carringdon's
daughter hadn't helped her, since very few men were willing to do business with a female.