Velvet Embrace (49 page)

Dominic turned his glittering gaze on Lady
Arabella
, indicating the miniature he still held in his hand. "This is a likeness of Suzanne Durham?"

Astonished by the savagery in his tone, Lady
Arabella
blinked,
then
focused her gaze on the portrait. "Yes, that is Suzanne."

"How did it come to be here?"

"Why . . . Suzanne was Brie's mother. My brother William married her shortly after she came to London. She was Miss Durham then, and Miss Hewitt was her companion. I did not approve of the match, of course, for Suzanne was destitute. There was some tragedy, I believe. They had to leave France quite suddenly, for it was during the barbarous uprisings there—"

"Do I understand you correctly?" Dominic interrupted softly. "Your niece is the daughter of Suzanne Durham?"

Something in his tone made Lady
Arabella
want to shiver. "Yes, but where is this leading, my lord? And where are you going?" she demanded as Dominic suddenly strode past her. "I have not dismissed you, and you still owe me an explanation!"

Dominic halted abruptly,
then
turned slowly to face her. His eyes glittered like shards of ice as they flicked once over Katherine,
then
settled on Lady
Arabella
.

"You are mistaken, madam," he said, tossing the miniature at her feet. "I once owed much to Suzanne Durham, and I now owe a great deal to your niece. But to you, I owe nothing."

"He must hate me, Julian. But I didn't know. I swear I didn't know!"

The pleading note in Brie's voice wrung Julian's heart. He tightened his arm about her shoulders, ignoring what her tears were doing to the front of his striped silk waistcoat. Gently he stroked her hair, offering comfort as he would to a small child.

He had
arrived
only a short time ago to find the Langley household wrapped in oppressive silence. When Carson had informed him in hushed tones that the ladies would not be attending the opera this evening, Julian had asked to see Brie and was shown into the drawing room. He had been shocked to see her pale face and wide, haunted eyes. When she had blindly reached out to him, he had wrapped his arms about her wordlessly, supporting her while she clung to him. After a time he had led her to a sofa, where he had succeeded in drawing out a faltering explanation.

"Dominic called this afternoon," Brie said in a shaky whisper. "Caroline and I had been shopping and we returned just as he was leaving. He didn't speak to me at all. . . . Julian, the look he gave me." Brie shuddered, recalling the cold fury on Dominic's face. He had seemed to look right through her, the icy contempt in his gray eyes chilling her blood.

Taking a steadying breath, she told Julian about finding her
aunt and companion in the salon. "I hadn't the faintest idea what was going on or what I had done to deserve that look Dominic had given me, but Aunt
Arabella
was in a rage. She said Lord Stanton had behaved with unconscionable rudeness and that he had questioned her about my mother. Katherine wouldn't speak at all, she was so upset. But finally she told me . . . she said that years ago Dominic's father had been arrested and put to death and that my mother's name was on the arrest warrant. That was why Mama left France and came to England to live. But I never knew. Mama never spoke about her family. She said all the
Durhams
had been killed during the Revolution."

Julian grew quite still, remembering the name he had heard on Dominic's lips but a few hours before. In an odd voice, he asked if the
Durhams
had been neighbors of the Comte de
Valdois
.

"I believe so, why? I wanted Katherine to tell me more about it, but she was so distressed that I sent her to bed. But don't you see? Dominic hates me now for what my mother did. He probably thinks I knew about it. But I didn't, Julian! My mother never told me about her past."

Her tone held such anguish that Julian felt his heart wrench. "Lord, what a mess," he said, giving a sigh. He held Brie away from him, gazing at her in sympathy. "I'm afraid it is more complicated than that, Brie," he said gently. "Just this week, Dominic discovered who has been trying to kill him. The man's name is Sir Charles Durham. Do you know if he might be related to you?"

Brie stared at Julian, her face draining completely of color. "Mama's father," she said in a horrified whisper.

"Your grandfather, then.
Here," he said, offering his handkerchief. "You could use this."

"I am not crying! I never cry!"

"No, of course not," he murmured soothingly as Brie wiped furiously at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. He drew her into his arms again, resting his chin on the top of her head as
she buried her face in his shoulder. "I'm afraid it's true, however. Your grandfather is behind the attempts on Dominic's life. It seems that Sir Charles is still living in France. Dominic plans to seek him out—he leaves tomorrow, in fact."

"Then there is only one course open to us," Caroline said from behind them. She had heard most of the conversation, having come quietly into the room.

Kneeling at Brie's feet, Caroline looked imploringly at Julian. "You must see Lord Stanton, Julian, and make him understand that Brie had nothing whatever to do with any of this."

Julian shifted uncomfortably. "I doubt that Dominic would listen. If he believes Brie knew about her family, then nothing I could say would change his mind. It would be better to wait till Dominic returns to England. By then he may even have discovered the truth on his own."

"But he might not!" Caroline protested. "And that could be weeks, or months. He would never believe her then. No, Julian, you must see him now and explain."

Brie sat up, clenching her fists. "Will you two please
stop!
I am not a scrap of meat to be divided between you." Lifting her chin, then, she looked at her cousin. "Caroline, you are right. I cannot allow this misunderstanding with Lord Stanton to continue. But neither will I allow Julian to fight my battles for me. I must speak with Dominic myself. However," she said, giving Julian a tremulous smile, "I would appreciate an escort. Dominic has a house in town, doesn't he? Will you take me to him?"

Julian eyed her with a sinking feeling. "Come now, Brie. You cannot expect me to be a party to such a foolhardy scheme." He tried to dissuade her by repeating his earlier arguments, but his efforts were fruitless; Brie had already made up her mind. "And besides," Julian concluded lamely when she would not be swayed, "Dominic isn't at home."

"But you know where to find him," Brie returned. "Please, Julian, I must see him. Perhaps I could discover his direction
from his servants, but it would give rise to gossip. You could save me time and trouble by helping me."

"Damn it, Brie. . . ."

An hour later, Julian was handing the cousins into his barouche. He kept his oaths to himself, however, as he watched Brie rest her head wearily against the squabs. She looked breathtakingly beautiful in a crepe gown of pale peach with diamonds sparkling in her hair and at her throat, but she seemed drained of all energy. Julian tore his gaze away and focused his frown on her cousin instead. Caroline had insisted on accompanying them to the
Copely's
ball. She sat next to Brie, silently staring out of the coach window.

Except for Julian's terse directions to his driver when they alighted from the barouche, none of them spoke a word till they passed through the receiving line where they were forced to respond politely to Lord and Lady
Copely's
greeting and exchange pleasantries. Brie's smile was visibly strained by the time they were free to move on, and Julian could feel the tension in her slender shoulders as he guided her up the last flight of stairs. As they entered the ballroom, he suggested once more that she wait to speak to Dominic, but she remained adamant. Her eyes feverishly scanned the crowd, searching for the tall, dark-haired lord who owned her heart.

"Fetch her something to drink, Julian," Caroline whispered, seeing how pale Brie was. "Champagne, I think."

Nodding, Julian gently propelled Brie across the room where a line of stiff-backed chairs had been arranged for the guests. Ordering her to sit, he left her in Caroline's charge while he went after something to revive her.

Brie obeyed, only because her courage had suddenly faltered. Clenching her hands tightly in her lap, she stared straight ahead, seeing nothing of the exotic shrubs and potted palms that turned the ballroom into a luxuriant garden. Dancers twirled past her, their gay laughter blending with the music in pleasant harmony, but she saw nothing of them either.

Some of the color
returned to her cheeks when she had drunk the brimming
glass of
champagne that Julian gave her, but she paled again when Julian said he had seen Dominic. Forcing a tremulous smile, Brie rose unsteadily to her feet and asked Julian to lead her to him.

Brie could hear her heart pounding as they made their way through the crowds, but her courage deserted her entirely when she spied Dominic's tall form. His back was to her, and his dark head was bent to catch something his beautiful companion was saying. Recognizing Lady Denise, Brie turned to flee. But then Julian was telling her to buck up her chin and was urging her forward again. Knowing she was too close to give up now, Brie took a deep breath, and allowed
herself
to be led.

She thought she had braced herself for Dominic's reaction. Earlier, as she was dressing, Caroline had told her about Dominic's estrangement from his mother and how he refused to acknowledge Lady Harriet whenever they chanced to meet in public. But Brie was truly unprepared for the cold fury that flashed in Dominic's eyes when he turned and saw her. The gleaming daggers he directed at her would have impaled her instantly, had they been made of stronger stuff. Brie flinched involuntarily, wishing she were anywhere besides facing this dangerous-looking man who was staring at her with such savage hatred, but she squared her shoulders and forced herself to say a pleasant good evening.

Watching her, Julian silently applauded Brie's spirit, for he was well aware of what it was costing her. Lady Denise, too, could feel the tense undercurrents that had suddenly charged the atmosphere. Wisely, Denise did not protest when Julian drew her aside, giving Brie a chance to speak privately with Dominic.

When Brie asked if she might have a word with him, however, Dominic's lip curled. "Your explanations are unnecessary, Miss
Carringdon
," he said with chilling formality.

He started to turn away, but she placed a hand on his arm. Dominic's grim countenance never changed, although his eyes narrowed even further. Seeing his warning look, Brie removed her trembling hand, but she refused to be intimidated any further. "They are necessary, my lord," she insisted. "But what I have to say is best said in private, not in a crowded ballroom. Five minutes, my lord. I ask but five minutes of your so valuable time."

At her bitter tone, Dominic raised a sardonic brow and regarded her in silence. Brie held her breath as she waited for his reply, but finally Dominic nodded. "Very well," he said curtly. "Five minutes. I believe there is a drawing room on the > floor below. I will meet you there shortly." Brie nodded wordlessly, unable to speak for relief.

After some searching, she discovered the drawing room he had mentioned. The room was empty, but the lamps had been lit and a fire burned in the grate, giving off
a cheery
warmth. Brie stood before the fire, holding out her chilled hands to warm them as she waited with mingled dread and hope for Dominic to appear. He had said he would come, she reasoned. He would give her a chance to explain. Perhaps he would even believe her.