Velvet Embrace (69 page)

Light was streaming brightly from the open door, and Brie winced as it struck her eyes. She took three steps into the room,
then
halted abruptly, her heart leaping with joy and terror. Dominic sat in a large armchair facing them, looking very much at ease as he held a pistol trained on them.

Brie felt her fair-haired captor stiffen, but before she even had time to think, he had dragged her in front of him and was pressing his knife against her side. "How did you get in here?" he ground out, addressing Dominic.

A lamp stood on the mantle behind Dominic, the bright light casting his face in shadow, but Brie could see his lip curl. "My dear Charles, were you not expecting me?"

His tone was soft and mocking, but at the sound of his beloved voice, Brie swayed. Not even the bite of cold steel against her ribs could dampen her relief at seeing him again.

"How did you get past Martin?"
Germain
demanded, making Brie feel his rage as he held her so tightly.

"Jacques handled your henchman easily enough," Dominic replied. "You forget that I once was quite familiar with this particular house. But I might ask you a similar question. How did you manage to escape Jason's watchful eye? I shall have a word to say about his laxity when I next see him."

Charles raised his knife, pressing the sharp edge threateningly against Brie's throat. "You will put down that pistol if you want her to live."

Dominic hesitated, his gray eyes flicking over Brie as if he were seriously deliberating. Then he shrugged. "Do what you will with her. She is nothing to me. I've felt her claws once too often to care what becomes of her."

Hearing his casual denouncement, Brie paled. Her eyes were huge and haunted as she stared at Dominic, not wanting to believe she had heard him correctly. Then she saw his mouth twist in a sardonic smile. "Perhaps I should have adopted your method of silencing her," he said, sounding amused. "A knife is a bit uncivilized, but effective. I've not heard her sharp tongue stilled until this moment."

His cruel words cut Brie more deeply than any knife. She had always known Dominic didn't love her, but she had thought he might care enough to try and rescue her. That hope that had sustained her in her moments of paralyzing fear, but she realized now how foolish she had been. He had come, not to rescue her, but to carry out a vendetta against his enemy. It was nothing to him if Charles
Germain
ended her life with his blade.

Overwhelmed by pain and anger.
Brie began to struggle, no longer caring that a ruthless madman was holding a knife at her throat. When
Germain
swore and ordered her to be still, Dominic laughed harshly. "See, the vixen would like nothing better than to carve out my heart and serve it on a platter. Keep a good hold on her, Charles, I beg you. Even unarmed, she can be dangerous."

"You're lying, Stanton! Martin saw you with her more than once. You were so hot for the
bitch,
you couldn't keep your hands to yourself."

"Can you fault me?" Dominic replied laconically, ignoring the taunt. "The pleasures of her delightful body are without peer—as you well know if she has shared your bed."

"Indeed," Charles smirked as his hand swept upward to fondle Brie's breast. Brie closed her eyes, shuddering with revulsion.

Dominic leaned back in his chair. "You're welcome to her, Charles, but I ought to warn you—she's only interested in marriage. She tried to trick me into offering for her just last week. I was even tempted to let myself be caught, she pleads so convincingly."

Knowing that for a bold-faced lie, Brie opened her eyes to stare at Dominic. He was looking directly at her, the piercing intentness of his gaze at odds with his casual pose. It seemed as if he were trying to communicate something to her.

Reading the silent message in his eyes, she suddenly understood his intention; he was pretending not to care merely to direct
Germain's
attention away from her. A wave of relief washed over her, leaving her weak. Whatever Dominic's feelings for her, he wouldn't enjoy watching her die.

"But I didn't come here to quarrel with you over the lady," Dominic said, switching his gaze to
Germain
. "I came to discuss the boy I turned over to you here in this house, the one you later killed. You
remember
Nicholas
Dumonde
, don't you, Charles? You said his death was accidental—but it wasn't, was it? And you knew he was Durham's bastard. I thought perhaps you did," he added dryly, watching his opponent's face.

When
Germain
didn't reply, Dominic smiled a decidedly nasty smile. "You covered your tracks well, Charles, I must admit. Durham never knew. Ironic, was it not, that he later hired his son's murderer to kill the man he thought responsible?"

His voice lowered to a mere whisper then. "You will die for that, Charles.
By my hand.
I could shoot you. However . . ." His tone became normal again, sounding almost pleasant, as if he were proposing a stroll through the park. "However, I am prepared to be magnanimous and offer you a sporting chance. I brought a pair of foils for us to use. I imagine you are almost recovered from your wound, and as you can see," he indicated the sling that supported his right arm, "I have sustained one of my own. That will give you a decided advantage, since I will have to fight left-handed.

"You needn't look for your henchman to appear," he added when
Germain
threw a glance over his shoulder. "Jacques is keeping him occupied. Well, what is it to be, Charles?" Slipping his arm from the sling, Dominic transferred his pistol to his right hand but kept it trained on his foe as he stood up. Reaching behind him where a pair of rapiers lay on the mantle, he grasped one in his left hand and tested the blade, making the air hiss around him.

"Well, Charles?" Dominic repeated. "Shall we fight, or do you mean to hide behind a woman's skirts all evening?"

As Charles weighed his chances, Brie watched Dominic, unable to tear her gaze away. When she felt the increasing pressure of the blade at her throat, she held her breath, waiting for the cold steel to pierce her throat.

But then
Germain
shifted the knife to his left hand in order to free his sword arm. He deftly caught the foil Dominic tossed him and stood holding Brie while Dominic divested himself of his sling and coat.

Those moments passed with agonizing slowness for Brie. Her mind felt strangely divorced from her body, as if she were watching a stage drama as an impassive observer rather than an active participant. She could feel
Germain's
tenseness, and glancing over her shoulder, she could see the beads of perspiration that had broken out on his forehead. When she saw the brightly stained bandage that wrapped Dominic's arm, however, Brie caught her breath in a gasp. The sleeve of his lawn shirt was soaked in blood, and his silk waistcoat was already flecked with red. Dominic had been telling the truth, Brie realized with dismay. Wounded as he was, he wouldn't just be at a disadvantage; it would be a miracle if he survived!

Brie couldn't bear to think of the outcome of such an uneven contest. Dominic's life was far more important to her than his love, more important even than her own life. Her anguished-eyes flew to his face, and when she saw he was watching her, she returned his gaze steadily, baring her very soul in that timeless glance, her fierce love for him glowing brightly in her eyes as she silently wished him strength and courage and victory.

Dominic at last tore his gaze away. Tossing his coat in the chair, he lowered his pistol and turned to place it on the mantle, his back making a wide target as he reached for the second foil. That seemed to be the moment
Germain
had been waiting for, for he flung Brie to one side and lunged at his opponent.

Brie cried out in warning, but she realized an instant later that her shout hadn't been needed. Dominic had given the appearance of letting down his guard, but he had obviously been anticipating
Germain's
action, since he managed to ward off the sudden attack with surprising quickness.

The clash of steel rang out, reverberating in the small room, while Brie's heart rose to her throat and stayed there. She backed against the wall, out of range of the flashing blades, where she anxiously watched the two combatants.

The fight seemed so unequal. In spite of his agility and superb physical conditioning, Dominic's skill was drastically diminished without the use of his sword arm. His defense was slow, even awkward at times, and the sweat glistening on his brow told her that his reflexes were being strained to the limit. When he barely parried a thrust in time, Brie's hand flew to her mouth, smothering a cry.

Germain
, on the other hand, had not yet begun to labor. He fought conservatively at first, but he seemed to gain confidence each time he lunged. And his advantage was beginning to tell. Although he hadn't yet broken through his opponent's guard, he was continuously driving, pressuring Dominic to retreat again and again.

Brie had no idea how long they fought—it could have been minutes or hours—but the interval stretched into an eternity. She bit deeply into her knuckle when
Germain
gave a sudden leap and crashed into Dominic. His thrusting blade swung wide, but the impact sent both men hurtling over the back of a sofa to the floor. They were both on their feet in an instant, warily circling each other once more.

Unwilling to give up his advantage,
Germain
pressed the attack. His foil hissed as it made a slashing arc, and the point found Dominic's left shoulder, slicing through his shirt and leaving a deep gash from which blood welled freely.

Dominic stumbled backward, but
Germain
didn't let up for even an instant. Once more he advanced, flinging a small table from his path with a snarl, sending it crashing to the floor. Once more Dominic retreated, whirling away at the last moment as
Germain's
blade sliced through the air.

Seeing the triumphant gleam in
Germain's
eyes, Brie shuddered. She had never seen such hatred and lust for blood as was on his face, and she knew if sheer malevolence could win, he would have been declared the victor before the battle had ever been joined.

He moved slowly toward Dominic, stalking him like he would
wounded
prey, while Dominic backed away, moving ever deeper into a corner of the room. When she saw how Dominic was boxing himself in, Brie wanted to scream out a warning. But she bit her knuckle until she tasted blood, knowing that any sound she made might prove to be a fatal distraction.

Dominic's back was pressed against the wall before he finally stopped retreating. Brie couldn't see
Germain's
gloating expression, since he was facing away from her, but she could see the slow, taunting smile that curled Dominic's lips. That mocking smile seemed to infuriate
Germain
, for he growled and made a wild lunge.

Forever afterward Brie would remember that terrifying moment when the two combatants stood locked together. The room became deathly still, and she felt her heart stop beating. An endless moment elapsed before anything happened. Then slowly,
Germain
slumped to the floor.

It was another moment before Brie even registered that it wasn't Dominic who lay sprawled on the floor, a rapier buried deep in his chest. She gave an anguished sob and took a faltering step toward him. In response, Dominic turned his head to meet her gaze across the room.