Velvet Embrace (36 page)

"Brie, I . . ."

She waited, holding her breath while Dominic seemed to struggle with himself. But then he released her and stepped away abruptly. "I suggest you use the servant's entrance in the rear," he said quietly.

Brie bit down hard on her lip to keep back the sob that was welling in her throat. She gave Dominic one last anguished glance before she turned and fled.

Watching her run blindly down the path, Dominic swore
viciously. He wanted to call her back, to explain. But then what would he say? Sorry, my sweet, but when you so obligingly returned my kisses, you scared the hell out of me?

He hardly understood what had happened himself. He had lost control when Brie had responded so passionately to his embrace. For a moment he had been overwhelmed by a force strong enough to make him tremble. He had felt like a man drowning in a sea of fire—and he had used the only means he knew to douse the flames she had ignited. In his entire life, nothing like it had ever happened to him before.

Brie
Carringdon
was a witch!
A beautiful, damnable witch.
He had meant to use her for his own pleasure, but she had turned the tables on him, catching him in her own silken web. Indeed, he was probably only one of countless men who had fallen for her wiles. No doubt she had picked him out long ago as her next victim.

Her next victim?

Needing to cool his fevered brain, Dominic began to pace the garden path. Who was he trying to fool? He knew perfectly well Brie hadn't deliberately tried to inflame his senses. He had been caught for a moment, yes, but she wasn't to blame. Hell, she didn't care what she looked like half the time, dressing like the
veriest
ragamuffin in boy's clothes. She hadn't the faintest notion what her slender beauty could do to a man.

He was aware of it, though.
Devastatingly aware.
His loins still burned for her.

Dominic swore again. He should have taken her here in the garden, regardless of the strange feelings she aroused in him, for having Brie once more would be the only way to put out the smoldering fires in his body. She would have known pleasure in his lovemaking, he would have seen to that. And she hadn't been afraid of him this time, he was certain. He had not had to force her responses. She had been his for the asking, willing to give herself completely. . . . But then he had driven her away.

Next time, Dominic promised himself, he would not let her go. Next time he would be better prepared. Now that he was

warned
, he would be able to guard himself against her bewitching spells.

But what then?
he
asked himself uneasily. When he had quenched his desire for Brie, would he then be free of her? Afterward, could he more easily deny the fierce attraction he had for her?

A long, long time passed before Dominic slowly followed the path Brie had taken to the house.

Brie rose early the next morning and flung herself into a frenzy of activity, seeking to bury her frustration and anger in physical exhaustion. She was determined to banish all thoughts of Dominic from her mind. She rode with the stable hands when they went out at dawn's first light to exercise the horses, then coerced John into accompanying her when she rode out again. When she was suitably numb, Brie returned to the house where she attacked estate accounts till sums whirled in her head.

She spent the afternoon with the estate steward, Mr. Tyler, paying some long-overdue visits to several of her tenants. She had been invited along with Caroline to take tea with Elizabeth
Scofield
, but she refused to go, having no wish to encounter Lady Denise again.

It was nearly dusk by the time Brie returned to Greenwood. When she was informed by the butler
Garby
that Lord Stanton awaited her in the drawing room, Brie was astonished. She had not expected even
Dominie
would have the audacity to face her after his rejection of her the previous evening.

Her first impulse was to flee, but she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid Dominic forever, not if he were truly determined to speak to her. And she would be far safer meeting him in her own home with a houseful of staunchly loyal servants to protect her. Brie took as long as possible to remove her gloves and bonnet and smooth the folds of her blue pelisse. Then, reluctantly, she climbed the stairs to attend her visitor.

She paused at the door, trying to bolster her failing courage. She had a good view of Dominic's back, for he was standing at the window, looking out at the front lawn. Her pulse started beating erratically at just the sight of his tall, well-muscled form. He was dressed impeccably in gray trousers and a matching frock coat. He must have heard her, for he turned as she entered.

Brie decided her best defense was a direct attack. "To what do I owe this unwelcome visit, my lord?" she demanded, keeping a wide distance between them. "I warn you that if you have come to provoke me, I shall call a footman and have you thrown out of the house."

Dominic met her defiant glare with a melting smile—that same fallen-angel smile whose sweetness never failed to affect her. "I don't intend to provoke you, Brie.
Just the opposite, in fact.
I have come to apologize."

"I expect you are referring to your behavior last night. Well, you may save yourself the trouble. I don't mean to listen to your explanations."

Dominic crossed the room toward her. "I'm not apologizing for kissing you. I enjoyed it too much to regret it. But for everything else I am
truiy
sorry."

"Stay away from me!" Alarmed to see Dominic advancing, Brie took a hasty step backward. She had no faith in her ability to withstand him, should he try to take her in his arms.

When Dominic halted, Brie eyed him warily. "Why do you not visit Lady Grayson? I'm sure she would welcome your attentions."

She had no trouble recognizing the amusement that flashed in his eyes. "Perhaps," he replied amiably. "But Denise isn't available. She left this morning for London. Besides, I prefer your charming company."

"But I do not prefer yours," Brie returned, not admitting her relief that Lady Grayson was no longer in the neighborhood.

She never learned how her sparring match with Dominic would have ended, for their conversation was interrupted just then by
Garby's
entrance. The butler had an urgent summons from John Simms. "He requests that you come to the stables at once, Miss Brie," he said with an apologetic glance for her noble visitor. "There is a problem with one of the horses."

Brie was grateful for the reprieve. She asked Dominic to excuse her and waited only for his polite agreement before making her escape. She was being a coward, she knew. Then again, John never requested her presence unless it was important.

When she reached the
stableyard
, she understood at once why John had summoned her. He and several of his men were frantically trying to control a struggling broodmare. The horse was rearing and lashing out with her hooves while the men pulled ineffectually on the lead rope tied around her neck.

Brie was puzzled, for normally Firefly was docile and even tempered. But then she saw the long, vicious slashes covering the horse's body and realized the sleek coat was wet with blood. Brie stared in horror, wondering who would have dared beat a defenseless animal, especially a mare in foal.

Clamping down on her anger, she reached for the rope. "Send everyone away, John," she said quietly.

John sent the grooms scurrying, knowing few people could calm a horse as Brie could, but he stood by as she slackened the rope. She talked softly, till at last the mare ceased fighting and stood trembling under her soothing hand.

"What happened, John?" Brie asked in an outraged whisper. "She's dripping in blood."

He gave a tight-lipped nod. "Aye, she is. The lads found her like that in the north pasture. They had no trouble catching her—she was tied to the fence with that rope. I don't know what stupid fool is responsible, but he must have been mad to do that to a fine animal. The lads had the devil of a time bringing her here."

The mare was obviously in pain, for she kept throwing her head down. John went up to her and gently ran his hands under her belly. "Looks like she's going to foal," he observed. "We'd best take her to a stall so we can watch her. There may be trouble. Can you hold her?"

When Brie nodded, John disappeared inside a small barn— an isolated building that was used to house broodmares and horses recuperating from various ailments. There were only ten stalls, most of which were occupied, but they were spacious and immaculate.

John lit a lantern and spread fresh straw on the floor of the stall, while Brie slowly
lead
the nervous mare down the aisle. Firefly balked at the door, causing the other horses to snort and whicker at the disturbance, but together Brie and John managed to coax Firefly into the box. They stood silently watching as the mare began to move restlessly in circles. Brie hardly noticed when Dominic quietly joined them.

Seeing the mare kick at her swollen belly, John frowned. "Aye, she's going to have trouble," he predicted. "It's too early for a normal birth. I'll wager the foal's twisted inside her, poor beast. Cleaning the wounds can wait, but she won't have that colt on her own."

"I'll get one of the men," Brie offered, realizing she wasn't skilled enough or strong enough to assist at a difficult birth.

"There's no need," Dominic said. "I've some experience, and more observers would just frighten the mare." Even as he spoke, he was shedding his elegant coat and cravat.

John eyed him skeptically, but then he nodded.
"Very well.
You're bigger than most of my lads."

He entered the stall and caught the mare, then eased a rope halter over her head. Dominic followed after directing Brie to bring another lantern, some rags, and a sharp knife. She obeyed instantly, returning in time to see the two men wrestle the mare to the floor.

Dominic held Firefly's head while John probed gently for the foal. Shortly, John rocked back on his heels and grunted. "I think we can save it, but it's got to be turned. The forelegs are jammed up tight." Nodding, Dominic told Brie to take his place at the mare's head.

She was glad to be of use. Quickly hanging the lantern on a peg so that light flooded the stall, she sank down in the straw beside Dominic. He must have sensed her anxiety, for he flashed
her a
reassuring grin as she handed him the knife. Brie gave him a shaky smile in return, before bending over the mare to secure a good grip on the halter.

It was nearly an hour later before the men were able to turn the foal, but to Brie it seemed like an eternity. Her shoulders and back were aching, and in spite of the chill, she could feel perspiration trickling down her forehead and between her breasts. She was a bit queasy as well, for the operation was bloody and extremely messy. She felt a surge of exultation, however, when two spindly front legs finally appeared.