Velvet Embrace (18 page)

Dominic's eyes glittered dangerously. With his shirt front unbuttoned, exposing the dark hair on his chest, he bore more resemblance to a Spanish pirate than a fashionable English lord. He grinned wickedly, his white teeth flashing against dark skin. "We are evenly matched, I would say.
A fool and a coward.
En
garde
!"

Dominic's challenge rang out, and the gleaming rapiers came together with a clash. In the first engagement,
Germain
lunged deftly, but Dominic parried his thrust with a finely executed volt. Next Dominic advanced with a series of neat slashes, testing the quickness of his opponent's reaction. When his foil suddenly flashed wide,
Germain
caught his blade handily. Dominic had to admire the adroit manner in which Charles fended off the attack. The man had improved, it seemed; he fought less conservatively and with a great deal more finesse.

The two of them moved as if in a graceful dance, circling each other, weapons carefully poised. Then their blades met again, crackling and hissing.

When
Germain
feinted and returned an unexpected thrust, Dominic drew back, deflecting the rapier point with a supple wrist. Whirling about, he launched another flurry. His attack nearly threw Charles off balance, but the man escaped with a nimble leap. There was another silence as the two contestants danced in opposite circles, warily regarding each other. Then they engaged again, steel clashing against steel.

They fought for some time, neither seeming to be able to gain the advantage. Finally, though,
Germain
began to lose patience. Darting forward, he thrust viciously, and his slashing blade almost succeeded in slipping through Dominic's guard. Dominic bore his hand upward at the last instant, however, and his foil slid nearly halfway up the other blade. With a snarl,
Germain
leapt back, then attacked with a forced flurry, his blade ringing against tempered steel as it cut swiftly through the air.

Dominic could sense
Germain's
growing frustration. Both of them were breathing hard from the exertion, but it was obvious that Charles was tiring more quickly; a thin sheen of sweat covered his face and his movements were slower, less refined than at the start. Dominic parried his next strike easily with a powerful flick of his wrist. Then judging the time as ripe, he bore down with fierce determination, keeping his eyes trained on his opponent's face.

In response, Charles became more reckless. He lunged, wildly brandishing the slender rapier. Dominic sidestepped lightly, narrowly avoiding the point of
Germain's
blade, and continued to give ground as he waited for the right moment. At the next desperate thrust, he caught
Germain's
blade in a parry. The foils locked at their base, and Dominic flashed a mocking smile as he disengaged. Then he went on a driving offensive, forcing his opponent backwards, his powerful thigh muscles bulging as he advanced with agile steps.

Suddenly Dominic changed tactics. After slowing his onslaught to control the encounter, he retreated, lowering his guard in a deliberate invitation. As he had expected,
Germain
made a rapid lunge.
Too rapid.
Charles lost his balance momentarily, and Dominic slashed downward to the right, making a short arc and then an upward extension. The tip sank deeply into
Germain's
side.

There was a hushed silence as Charles stared down at the bright crimson stain spreading on his shirt front. His face wore a look of dumbfounded dismay before his eyes lifted to clash with Dominic's. For an instant, his features contorted with hatred. Then his expression became altogether blank as his knees slowly buckled.

He pitched forward, clutching his ribs, but Dominic caught him before he fell. Gently lowering Charles to the frozen ground, Dominic rolled him over so that he was lying on his back. Then kneeling, he withdrew the sword from Charles' side and loosened his shirt to expose the wound.

When he saw the damage he had done, Dominic swore a silent oath. His blade had penetrated deeply into Charles' ribcage and blood was welling freely from the small hole located a few inches below and to one side of the right breast. Dominic didn't need to be told that such a wound could prove fatal. Grim-faced, he drew back to allow the surgeon his examination.

"Not good," the doctor muttered. "Not good at all. But he may live." From his bag the doctor pulled a wad of cloth and formed a thick pad, pressing it against the wound to staunch the flow of blood. "Blade missed the lung, but barely," he announced. "Unconscious. Always happens. He'll have a fever—at least a week, maybe two. If he survives that, he should recover."

"Your expenses plus a hundred guineas if he lives," Dominic said in a fierce undertone. "And keep this quiet."

"I will do my best,
m'lord
, but I beg you not to expect miracles."

Dominic stood up slowly, his eyes on
Germain's
face. He suddenly felt extremely weary. "I'll have to depend on you, Jason," he said, pulling his friend aside. "Manning knows of a place where Charles can be held."

Jason
nodded,
his mood far lighter with Dominic the victor. "Never fear. I'll see
Germain
receives the best of care."

Dominic glanced down at the unconscious man and swore again, clenching his fists.
"Bloody hell!
Even if he lives, he won't be able to talk for some time."

"Cheer up, Dom. At least you aren't the one they are carting away. That was quite a demonstration, by the way."

They both watched as Charles was carried to Jason's coach. Then they slowly followed. "I take it you don't care to stop
Germain's
friend?" Jason remarked as the heavyset man mounted his horse and galloped off. "He doesn't seem interested in staying around to see what happens."

"I doubt if he knows anything," Dominic replied grimly. "
Germain
probably picked him up for insurance. No, I just want to know who is behind all this.
Someone
hired Charles to put a period to my existence."

Jason chuckled. "Unfortunately, until
Germain
recovers and you can question him, all you have to do is be wary of everyone you meet."

Dominic's answering smile was devoid of humor. "I'll leave it to you, Jason, to see that Charles doesn't escape the good doctor's care. You will send me word of his progress? I can return to London before going to France."

"I'll let you know the moment
Germain
can talk."

When they reached the waiting carriages, the two men took leave of one another. "Take care of
yourself
, Dom," Jason said as he gripped Dominic's hand. "I want you to survive to suffer the slings of matrimony yourself."

"So I can sit at home and play nursemaid?" Dominic retorted. "No thank you,
Jase
. Your milk-pudding existence is too tame for me."

"All the same, I don't much care for this situation."

"I should be safe enough with Charles
laid
up. Save your worries for your wife, and let me know when my godchild arrives." Dominic climbed into his coach and leaned his head out the window. "By the way,
Jase
,
thanks for covering for me on this one."

Jason grinned.
"Any time, my friend.
Good hunting."

Dominic returned his mock salute,
then
rapped on the ceiling. When Jacques flicked the reins, the spirited horses moved briskly forward. A moment later the coach swung around, heading for the open road.

"Whatever is taking you so long?" Katherine asked at the door to Brie's dressing room. "Luncheon has been ready an age and Caroline is waiting for you."

Brie had spent nearly ten minutes searching through the walnut armoire for something to wear, but she still hadn't changed out of her riding habit. She broke off her search to sigh in frustration. "I'm not hungry, Katherine. Why don't you tell Caroline to begin without me?"

Katherine's mouth tightened in disapproval. "Well, then, Miss Gabrielle, perhaps your highness would deign to come to the sewing room for a fitting."

"I didn't deserve that, Katherine!" Yanking a long-sleeved merino dress from the armoire, Brie flung it across a chair.

Katherine hesitated, noting her flushed cheeks. "Brie, is something wrong? You haven't seemed yourself for the past two weeks or more. Perhaps you are coming down with a bit of a fever?"

"Nothing is wrong!" When Brie saw the genuine concern in her companion's eyes, though, she felt ashamed. "I'm sorry, Katie. But I just don't think I can stand another minute of Caroline's moods. Her depression is becoming contagious."

"You might try for some understanding. I know she has done nothing but mope, but your cousin is just a green girl getting over her first infatuation. She needs someone to listen to her."

"I hardly think I'm fitted for the role of confidant."

"Well, you were the one who approved her visit, remember? I thought at the time that you were taking the situation far too lightly. Lady Langley sent her daughter to you, hoping you would provide a positive influence on the girl, yet so far you've all but ignored her."

"Very well," Brie muttered. "I'll spend more time with Caroline. But please don't expect me to entertain her. I would be at a complete loss."

"She would be better off with some company. Perhaps you could introduce her to some of the young gentlemen in the neighborhood."

Brie shrugged, but then a mischievous gleam began to sparkle in her eyes. "Would Rupert
Umstead
suffice?" Rupert was the local squire's eldest son. His flowery speeches and general inanities always drove Brie to distraction, but she suddenly realized that she could pawn Rupert off on her
mopish
cousin and be rid of two problems.

Katherine didn't seem to approve of the idea, however. Seeing her frown, Brie laughed. "How you do like to manage other people's lives, Katie! Very well, I will dress and be down in a moment. Do you still want me for a fitting?"

Katherine shook her head in exasperation. "Brie
Carringdon
, I will never understand you as long as I live. But yes, I need you. Two of your evening gowns are almost finished and I want to pin the bodice of the amber walking dress. I will expect you in an hour."

Brie smiled in agreement, yet as soon as she was alone again, her smile disappeared. Katherine's comments had been too accurate and pointed for comfort.

It was true, Brie reflected as she began to undress, that she had paid little attention to her cousin. Caroline had been nothing but an irritating nuisance since her arrival. In all fairness, though, the girl wasn't totally at fault. For over a fortnight, Brie herself had been
overstrung
and restless, and more than once she had snapped at her cousin for some imagined fault. The denial she had given Katherine had been just short of an outright lie, however. Brie knew well the cause of her own ill temper. The problem was she couldn't forget a certain dark-haired lord or what had happened between them. He plagued her thoughts constantly and caused her to start at shadows.