Velvet Embrace (73 page)

She was silent for a time, and when Dominic silently offered her a linen handkerchief, she accepted it with a tearful smile. When she had dried her eyes, Lady Harriet reached out and grasped Dominic's hand, holding it to her cheek. "I have few tears left, but it is a relief to share them with someone. I have never told a soul what I have just told you, Dominic, not even James. For a while after Philippe died, I kept the letters he wrote me—as a sort of protection at first. Then later, I thought perhaps to show them to you. I burned them, though, when I wed again."

"Well," Dominic said softly, "there may have been many misunderstandings between us in the past, but now they are over."

"Yes. I only hope that . . . that we might become friends."

Hearing her wistful tone, Dominic gave her a tender smile, the kind that never failed to win female hearts. "Nothing would please me more,
maman
.
But if you have no objection," he said, rising and dusting his knees with his hand, "I will begin our friendship from a more comfortable position. I always suspected that humbling
myself
would be painful, but I never realized just how hard it could be on the knees."

For the first time since his arrival, his mother smiled. Gazing down at her, Dominic found himself wishing to know her better. For years, Lady Harriet had been the stranger who had brought him into the world and then deserted him, but he could see now what a void her absence had left in his life. And it had actually come as something of a shock to find himself warming so readily to the woman he had always despised.

His meeting with her had not gone at all as he had expected. She had greeted him without rancor, and except for shedding a few tears, she hadn't allowed him to feel any guilt over their past relationship. She had accepted him at once, without question, sweeping away the years of neglect and antagonism like so many cobwebs, in a manner that had allowed them both to maintain their self-respect.

Something of his thoughts must have shown in his eyes, for his mother reached out to clasp his hand. "Do not pity me, my love," she implored. "Knowing I have you for a son has more than made up for Philippe's sins. And since I married James, I've realized that a normal relationship between a man and a woman can be full of love and companionship and trust."

A soft, private smile curved Dominic's lips. "Indeed, it can," he replied. "Which reminds me—I'd like you to meet my wife."

"
Your
. . .
wife?"

Dominic grinned at his mother. "We were married two days ago by special license. We're on our wedding trip, in fact, but Brie insisted we come to Hampshire before we leave for France. She's anxious to meet you."

"She is here? Dominic, never tell me you left your poor bride to wait outside!"

"Brie thought it best that I speak to you alone. And she isn't 'my poor bride'—but you'll soon see for yourself. I'll bring her to you. She's waiting in the carriage."

"No, I shall come with you," Lady Harriet said quickly.

"You seem concerned that I'll vanish," Dominic teased when she claimed his arm.

"I expect I am," she acknowledged, her gray eyes sparkling. "But then it isn't every day that I gain a son—and a daughter. I've had little practice in exercising my maternal instincts, though, so if you find yourself suffering, you must bear it with good grace."

She beamed up at him so unashamedly that Dominic laughed. "Give me due credit,
maman
,"
he said as he bent to kiss her cheek. "When I return to England, I intend to play the prodigal son and allow you to spoil me to your heart's content. Now, come. I want you to meet my lovely wife."

Kent, England, 1818

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Brie propped her chin in her hands and smiled at her sleeping husband. Dominic looked so handsome lying in the huge four-poster bed where the Earls of Stanton had slept for generations, in spite of the fact that his ebony hair was tousled and a faint growth of beard shadowed his jaw.

His coloring was a startling contrast to the white
bedsheet
, for his tan was darker than ever after spending most of the summer under the Mediterranean sun. He was lying on his back, one arm flung above his head, the sheet drawn up to his waist.

Brie let her gaze roam lovingly over his bronzed torso, admiring the corded, rippling muscles of his chest and shoulders and feeling a little disappointed to be denied a view of his narrow hips and iron-
thewed
legs. His nakedness no longer embarrassed or shocked her. As his wife, she had every right to look at him or even touch him whenever she liked. It was one of the joys of being
married,
just as waking up next to him in the morning was a joy.

As she watched Dominic sleeping, a surge of possessive pride swept through her, mingling with the love and happiness that filled her heart. She wanted to touch him, to draw her fingers along his sinewy length and arouse him the way he was so fond of doing to her—but it was still rather early.

When she had awakened, Brie had been unable to go back to sleep, all because of the burgeoning excitement within her. She had quietly slipped out of bed and opened the heavy damask draperies, letting the soft autumn sunlight stream in the windows and
warm
the large master bedroom they shared. Then she had put on Dominic's robe—a sapphire-blue dressing gown that he had bought just for her to wear—and had come back to bed, taking up a position where she could observe him to her heart's content.

Critically studying Dominic, Brie decided that he had changed during the past few months of their marriage. That hard, cynical look he had worn so frequently had softened greatly. Now, with his aristocratic features relaxed in sleep, he looked peaceful and content, even happy.

He stirred then, as if he had sensed her watching him, and opened his eyes. Seeing Brie, he gave her a devastatingly sweet smile and stretched lazily. "If you're trying to tempt me, my love," he murmured in a voice still muffled by sleep, "you are succeeding admirably." Reaching up, he threaded his fingers through her tumbled hair, lightly cupping the nape of her neck.

Brie returned his smile and bent to brush his lips with a kiss, but when she tried to pull back, Dominic's hold upon her tightened. He drew her down beside him, wrapping his arms around her and deepening his kiss.

It was several moments before he allowed Brie to come up for air. When at last he let her go, she snuggled against his hard length, resting her head on his shoulder. "Actually," she murmured, "I was wondering what had happened to the cynical, arrogant rake I married."

"He's still there," Dominic replied, pressing his lips against her hair. "Only he has mellowed considerably. I expect it's because a sharp-tongued, enchanting vixen captured his heart."

Brie laughed. "Is that so?"

"You know it is, minx." Tilting her face up to his, Dominic kissed her once more, long and lovingly.

When he finally released her, Brie sighed with contentment. She no longer doubted that Dominic loved her, but it was reassuring to feel the passion in his kisses and to realize that his desire showed no signs of diminishing. She had always known that he had wanted her, of course, but even when she had agreed to marry him, she hadn't been certain that he truly loved her. Dominic had spent their entire honeymoon proving it to her.

Brie smiled, remembering the delightful wedding journey they had taken. After visiting his mother in Hampshire, Dominic had immediately whisked Brie off to Paris. He had shown her both the glamorous and seedy sides of the city, giving her a taste of the wild life he had enjoyed before meeting her, then had taken her to Italy to see the cultural beauties of Milan, Venice, and Rome.

From there, they had gone to Spain and rented a villa on the Mediterranean, spending two glorious months swimming in the sea and basking in the sun and making love on the beach in the moonlight. Brie had turned as brown as a gypsy, but when she had complained about the freckles sprinkling her nose, Dominic had kissed every last one, saying that ladies with lily- white complexions bored him and that her tan only made her a more fitting mate for him.

They hadn't stayed the entire time in the villa, but had spent a week in a mountain retreat belonging to a friend of Dominic's, just the two of them. Brie had been surprised to learn how close the mountains were to the sea—merely an hour or two by horseback—but she had been even more astonished by the accommodations. The place resembled a fortress. It overlooked a narrow pass and according to Dominic, had been used as a hideaway by Spanish guerrillas during the
Peninsular
war. The enormous, crude dwelling which had been built into the rock served as their living quarters, while the adjoining caves stabled their horses and pack mule. The conditions were far more primitive than anything she had ever experienced, but Brie had never been happier.

Afterward, they had returned to England, going directly to Dominic's country seat in Kent. Brie had fallen in love with the place—a huge, sprawling brick mansion set amid a beautifully landscaped park and surrounded by orchards and fertile fields. Its loveliness made up a little for the fact that she had had to leave Greenwood upon her marriage. Dominic had promised that they would spend several months in Rutland each year, but still she missed her home.

Greenwood was being well cared for in the interim. Katherine continued to manage the house and servants, while Tyler, Greenwood's steward, had been given full responsibility for the farms. They had also hired a talented young man to assist John Simms with the stables and eventually replace him as head trainer.

Brie actually had little time for homesickness, though. Besides having to learn how to run Dominic's household, she had numerous other duties that kept her fully occupied. Initially she had been a bit nervous about assuming the role of lady of the manor, but she soon realized her worries were unfounded. Her background had adequately prepared her to fit into the simple Kentish farming community, even if she was the wife of a major landowner and a countess, as well.

She had found to her surprise that Dominic's tenants were delighted to welcome her. During their first month in residence when Dominic had taken her around the estate to introduce her to all the farmers and their families, Brie had been warmed by her reception. She had also been embarrassed at times when Dominic was congratulated upon his marriage, for he was frequently wished luck in siring an heir for the estate.

Shortly after they had settled in, Brie had been required to play hostess. Dominic, intent on showing off his new bride, had invited Jason and Lauren for a visit, and then Julian had come for a while. Following his departure, Dominic's mother and stepfather had arrived. There had been
a certain
wariness between Dominic and his stepfather at first, but when Sir James had seen that the long-standing rift between mother and son had been totally mended, he had accepted Dominic wholeheartedly.

The
Torpals
' visit had been delightful, if a little unusual. Lady Harriet had virtually taken over the garden where she had spent much of her girlhood, while Sir James had alternately divided his time between surveying Dominic's farms and fishing.

Thinking of the
Torpals
now, Brie smiled. Sir James was a good-natured older gentleman with a balding head, a stout frame, and a passion for crop rotation. He must have been very different from his wife's first husband, but it was obvious Lady Harriet loved him.