Velvet Embrace (22 page)

"Two weeks—Damn it, Brie!
Dominic was only here for a few days. What the hell did you do to provoke him so?"

"I! Why do you assume I did anything?"

"Because," Julian said with exaggerated patience as he handed Brie her leather boots, "I have never seen Dominic act so irrationally. He looked like he wanted to kill you."

"He probably did," she muttered. When Julian continued to frown at her, she raised her hands in exasperation.
"All right!
I hit him with my whip. I was out riding one day and he tried to bully me. I was frightened, so I hit him."

"And that's all?"

Brie ground her teeth as she began to pull on her boots. "Yes! His servant came along and then he left."

Pursing his lips, Julian let out a low whistle. "Well, you're lucky to have survived with your skin still intact. At least that explains—" Julian broke off. He had been about to say that he better understood the electrifying tension he had sensed between the two of them, but he decided there would be no point in stating the obvious. "I'm sorry now that I made you fight Dominic. I doubt after this he will forgive you."

"I don't want his forgiveness! Who does he think he is, anyway? Besides, it wasn't your fault, so don't apologize." When Julian started to object, Brie raised a hand. "I know Lord Stanton is your friend, Julian," she said in a fractionally calmer voice, "but it does not mean I must like him. You would be doing me a great favor if you would just keep him out of my sight."

"I can try. Brie, but I doubt you can avoid him for a full month."

"A month!
Must you suffer his company for so long?"

"I won't be suffering. I plan to enjoy his visit. He came here to indulge in a bit of sport."

Brie gave Julian a look that clearly labeled him a traitor as she stood up. "Come, Caroline," she said, squaring her shoulders.

When she marched from the room, Caroline flashed Julian an apologetic glance, then tagged meekly behind her angry cousin. Julian followed, still frowning.

When he had seen the cousins safely away, he went directly in search of his guest. He found Dominic in the gun room, seated at a table, carefully cleaning the breech of a fowling piece.

"I have servants who are paid to keep my weapons in prime condition," Julian said testily. "They can see to yours as well."

"I prefer to care for my own firearms," Dominic replied without looking up.

Julian pulled out a chair and straddled it, crossing his arms over the back. "Well?" he said impatiently.

Dominic raised an eyebrow. "Well, what?"

"You know what I mean. Did you have to be so hard on her? Brie is only a novice with foils, and she didn't realize—"

"You would defend her?" Dominic asked, his tone as smooth and hard as steel. "Your Miss
Carringdon
may be a novice, my friend, but hardly an innocent. She had fire in her eyes. She knew very well what she was about."

"I think you are mistaken, Dom. You frightened her quite badly, at any rate."

An imitation of a smile twisted Dominic's mouth. He was not proud of his conduct, knowing that he had responded far too emotionally to Brie's blind attack. He should never have allowed his anger to get so out of hand, particularly since terrifying Brie had
not
been his intention. She had deserved some form of punishment, certainly, but it was not part of his plan to frighten her away.

One glimpse of her fear-widened eyes and ashen cheeks had made him realize how greatly he had overreacted. And as he had stood looking down at Brie, at her breasts rising and falling beneath his rapier, at her thighs parted in open invitation, the quickening heat in his loins had abruptly outstripped the heat of his anger. At that moment, the desire to plunge the sword of his masculinity deep inside her had been almost overpowering. It had far outweighed the urge for revenge with his blade of steel. If he had been alone with her, he doubted that he could have prevented himself from savagely taking her then and there, no matter how unwilling she might have been. He had deserted the scene of battle before his control could be put to the test.

And now Julian was frowning at him. "You didn't tell me you had met Brie," Julian remarked.

"Should I have?" Dominic replied, wondering just what Brie had told his host. "What did she say?"

"Only that you two had some kind of confrontation while she was out riding."

Dominic gave a casual shrug of his shoulders. "I came across Miss
Carringdon
unexpectedly while I was exploring. The bay she was on shied and she took a hard fall. I suppose you might say she misinterpreted my intentions when I came to her aid."

Hearing the reasonable explanation, Julian visibly relaxed. He would not have enjoyed challenging Dominic. "A bay?" he mused. "She must have been riding my new hunter. A few months ago I unwisely bought a gelding from a friend in Ireland, sight unseen, and he turned out to be as green as they come—spooks at his own shadow.
Absolutely worthless on the field.
Brie agreed to take him for a few weeks, primarily as a favor to me. I sent him to her for training."

"Training?"

"Brie runs the stables her father started. It's called Greenwood. I'm sure you've heard of it, since you've ridden with the
Quorn
."

Impressed in spite of himself, Dominic glanced up from his work. "I've heard of it. I'll bet a quarter of the
Quorn's
members have mounts that were either bred or trained at Greenwood."

"I suspect that's true of the
Cottesmore
and Belvoir hunts as well. Greenwood is close enough to Melton
Mowbray
to be convenient, and it's known for turning out quality horseflesh. It is quite an operation. They have a few racers, but they specialize in hunters. A fellow by the name of John Simms is the head trainer. Brie spends most of her time managing the place, although she sometimes works with the more difficult horses."

Dominic's mouth twisted in a grin. "Perhaps that explains why she tried to take my head off. I ridiculed her
horsemanship. My comments probably stung her pride as much as did her fall."

"I think you did more than hurt her pride. I've never seen her so livid."

"She seems to me to be somewhat headstrong, not to mention foolish," Dominic said, inspecting the bore of his weapon.

Julian shook his head. "Brie may be stubborn and have a temper, Dom, but she is far from foolish. She happens to be the most intelligent woman I know."

"That isn't saying much," Dominic returned cynically. "But I will agree that Miss
Carringdon
is definitely unique, traipsing around in her breeches. I've seen street urchins who were better dressed. I expect more than a few of my acquaintances would appreciate her unusual style of fashion though—all male, of course."

"She doesn't dress like that all the time."

"I should hope not. How did you come to know her, anyway?"

Julian shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his friend's penetrating gaze. "Do you remember when I first met you in Vienna a few years ago? I told you I was suffering from a broken heart. You laughed in my face, I recall."

"Some girl in London, I believe?
Ahh
, Brie
Carringdon
?" When Julian nodded, Dominic once again experienced a surge of irrational envy. "Is she your mistress?" he asked, trying to keep his tone bland.

Julian looked up with a start.
"Brie?
Good God, no! She's a lady."

"Ladies have been known to overstep the bonds of propriety before, my friend."

"Well, she is not my mistress. I wanted to marry her, but she wouldn't have me."

"Why not?
Your fortune not large enough?"

Julian stared hard at Dominic for a moment, not liking his implication or his sardonic tone. Then suddenly he laughed.

"Dom, Brie inherited everything from her father. Her fortune is more than adequate and she certainly doesn't need mine. No, she didn't love me."

"I see," Dominic drawled.

"No, you don't see. Damn it, I tell you you're wrong about her. She could have any man she wanted. She's beautiful and kind and honest—"

"Spare me a catalogue of her virtues," Dominic interjected, rubbing his cheek. "I've already sampled her kindness."

Julian grinned. "Brie told me about hitting you."

"She did, did she? What else did she say?"

"Nothing, other than to call you an insufferable tyrant.
Completely justified, if your behavior today was any indication of how you treated her then." Julian chuckled. "I would have given a monkey to see the look on your face after—"

"I assume she was the reason you found Rutland so fascinating," Dominic interjected, wanting to know more about his friend's relationship with Brie.

"In part.
When I returned to England, I saw Brie again in London and we became friends. I came up here last year with her aunt and uncle when they were visiting. I liked the area, so I bought this place. You might know Brie's uncle, Sir Miles Langley. His wife
Arabella
was
Carringdon's
sister."

"I know him," Dominic said with a twisted smile. "And I pity the poor bastard. Lady
Arabella
is a veritable dragon."

Julian laughed. "Quite. And that's precisely what Brie calls her."

"Umm, perhaps your Miss
Carringdon
has more sense that I credited her with. Are you over your infatuation with her then?"

Julian gave a thoughtful frown. "I suppose so."

"You suppose?" Dominic said dryly. "Don't you know?"

Shrugging, Julian drew an imaginary pattern on the table top with a forefinger. "You know, I've asked Brie to marry me a dozen times, but she only laughs as if I am joking and says we wouldn't suit. I still love her, but I'm beginning to believe she is right about a marriage between us. She is . . . difficult to handle when she's in one of her tempers."

"You could always turn her over your knee," Dominic suggested, finding some pleasure in the idea.

"You must be joking. That would be the last way to win her affection. She wouldn't stand for it anyway."
Seeing the gleam in Dominic's gray eyes.
Julian eyed him suspiciously. "You aren't thinking of doing something like that, are you?"

"Not unless she means to use me again as a target for her various weapons. It is unfortunate that she dislikes me so much. I was looking forward to some pleasant entertainment during my stay."

"Dominic, Brie is no
lightskirt
. If you're planning anything, you had better be serious. But I'll tell you now, she isn't your type. Besides," Julian added with a grin, "Brie is the tiniest bit angry with you at the moment."

Dominic raised a mocking brow. "I'll be
damned,
I do believe you are warning me away. I find that novel, coming from you. Like the pot and the kettle, isn't it?"

"If it were any other woman I wouldn't object, but you hurt Brie and I'll carve your liver out."

Both of them knew his threat wasn't to be taken literally. In the first place, Julian was far too civilized to carve out anyone's liver, and in the second, he didn't have Dominic's prowess with pistols or swords, even if he was quite a skilled sportsman. But he wouldn't hesitate to defend Brie if she were threatened— not even against his closest friends.