Velvet Embrace (70 page)

One side of his waistcoat was stained a bright crimson, while his face was ashen, the color of dirty snow. Brie saw his lips twist in a faint smile. Then, before she could break out of her horrified trance, Dominic swayed and sank to the floor beside
Germain
.

A full thirty-six hours passed before Dominic regained consciousness. When he woke, it was to find Jason slumped in a chair beside his bed, looking disheveled and weary. Morning sunlight streamed in the open window and the cheerful dancing rays set devils pounding in Dominic's skull. He winced at the bright light, wishing he were still unconscious.

When he raised a hand to shield his eyes, Jason roused himself and sat up. "Well, at last! I was beginning to wonder if you would pull through. How do you feel?"

"Like the very devil," Dominic rasped, his voice sounding strangely hoarse. When Jason chuckled in relief, Dominic frowned. "Have you been here all night?"

"Yes.
And the night before that as well.
I arrived just before Jacques carried you in. I would have been here sooner except that I lost
Germain's
trail. He escaped by killing his guard, and I—"

Dominic reached out to grip Jason's arm. "Brie . . . where is she? Is she all right?"

Jason didn't seem surprised by the anxious question. "I imagine she is in her room," he replied calmly. "After the doctor stitched that gash in your shoulder, he gave Miss
Carringdon
a draught to make her sleep. She hadn't stirred last night when Katherine Hewitt came in to check on you. And yes," Jason added when Dominic's grip tightened, "I believe she is all right, or at least as well as any woman can be after an ordeal like that. I really didn't get a chance to speak to her about it. I was too busy preventing the doctor from bleeding you."

Dominic relaxed his grip and leaned back against the pillows, shutting his eyes. "Damn his soul," he cursed in a toneless voice.

Jason didn't have to guess whom he meant. "Well, I expect
Germain
is well on his way to perdition by now. You'd do better to concern yourself with Julian. He's still fuming because you wouldn't allow him to go with you to find
Germain
. He wanted to kill the bastard himself."

When Dominic didn't answer, Jason picked up a glass of water from the bedside table and held it to his patient's dry lips, ordering him to drink. He was prepared for an argument, but Dominic obeyed wordlessly.

"Don't let it eat on you, Dom," Jason said quietly when the glass was empty. "Brie's a survivor. She'll manage to get over it. She was rather pale when Jacques brought her here, but she had full command of herself. In fact she seemed more concerned about your injuries than anything else. She wouldn't drink her medicine until you had been sewn up, and I nearly had to force her to leave."

Clenching his black-shadowed jaw, Dominic focused his gaze on the window. "I want to see her."

Jason stood up, rubbing the stubble on his own chin. "I wouldn't advise it just yet. You look like death, and you need a bath and a shave more than I do. Besides,
that bandage
needs to be changed. I'll go fetch some clean linen to bind your arm and send a man up to help make you presentable. I can't allow Miss
Carringdon
to visit you when you aren't wearing a stitch to hide your naked splendor."

When Dominic scowled with a semblance of his former spirit and said adamantly that he refused to be
nursemaided
, Jason merely grinned. "Be quiet, Dom. You're my patient now and I intend to see that you have proper care. And," he added sweetly when Dominic flung a particularly violent oath at him, "you'll eat before you talk to Miss
Carringdon
."

Dominic swore again as Jason left the room, but as soon as he was alone, he raised himself to a sitting position. The effort was far harder than he had expected. By the time he had managed to haul himself from the bed, he was breathing heavily and his body was covered with sweat.

He struggled into his dressing gown, but when a wave of dizziness nearly overcame him, he clung to the bedpost and waited for the weakness to pass. He was still leaning there when the door to the bedchamber flew open.

Julian stood in the doorway, glaring, his feet planted in a belligerent stance, his face flushed with anger. He barely gave Dominic time to lift his head before he crossed the room in two giant strides and drew back his fist. The punch he let go nearly dislocated Dominic's jaw as it sent him sprawling across the bed.

Groaning in pain, Dominic clutched at his shoulder, while Julian flexed his fingers in satisfaction. "You bloody bastard! I've been itching to do that for ages, and you damn well deserve another. Brie's hands were burned, goddamn you!
Blisters the size of walnuts on her wrists.
And you're to blame."

Dominic made no attempt to defend himself. He merely lay there, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Still glaring, Julian leaned over him and realized that the stitches in Dominic's shoulder had broken loose. Blood was welling beneath his fingers and running freely across his chest. Muttering an oath, Julian grabbed a towel from the washstand and pressed it tightly against the gaping wound.

"You bloody well deserve to bleed to death," he said between clenched teeth. "Brie got those burns trying to get a rope off her wrists, damn you. That
snake
had tied her up."

Dominic shut his eyes. "Where . . . is she?" he asked in a tormented whisper. "I must talk to her."

"She's better off without your company, if you ask me."

Dominic flung a hand up to cover his face, as if to ward off some nightmarish vision. "God . . . I've never been more terrified in my life. I couldn't do a thing but watch while that bastard. . . . He held a knife to her throat and would have killed her had I shown the least concern. Damn it, Julian, I would have given my own life before I let that vermin hurt her! I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. God . . . what he must have done to her."

Hearing the tortured explanation wrenched from Dominic.
Julian felt his own anger ebb. He had been frantic with worry when Brie had disappeared and a search had turned up no trace of her whereabouts. When a message had come from
Germain
, saying that Brie was his hostage and that Stanton should meet him, Julian had immediately sent messengers to intercept Dominic on the road. But then Dominic had insisted on handling
Germain
alone. Julian had been infuriated by his own helplessness, but when he had seen Brie's injured wrists and heard her recount the tale of her abduction, he had become livid.

Now, hearing the anguish in Dominic's tone, Julian experienced a twinge of guilt. "
Germain
didn't touch her, Dom," Julian said, wanting to console him.

"Yes, he did—"

"I mean that he didn't rape her. He hit Brie instead and knocked her senseless. She didn't come around until shortly before you arrived."

Seeing the intense relief on Dominic's face, Julian wondered how he possibly could have thoughts his friend didn't care about Brie. If that wasn't the agony of a man in love, he would never again pretend to understand human nature.

"
Germain
told Brie you had killed Cassandra," Julian said quietly, "but she had enough sense not to believe that drivel. She's no fool, Dom, even if she behaves impetuously at times. And I think she cares for you more than you realize. She went with
Germain
in the first place because he told her you had been hurt and needed her."

When Dominic said nothing, Julian sighed. "Well, then, I guess I owe you an apology for planting you a facer. Come on, get back in bed while I—"

"You
hit
him?"

Both men looked up to see Brie standing in the doorway. She swept into the room, her eyes flashing when she saw the blood on the towel. "My God, Julian, you've made his shoulder start bleeding again! Go and fetch Jacques, quickly!"

When Julian sheepishly obeyed, Dominic managed to smile wanly. "Still defending the weak and helpless, I see."

Brie gave him a quelling glance as she helped him under the covers. "What were you doing out of bed?" she asked, seeing him grimace. "Your wounds are too serious for you to be up this soon."

"I wanted to talk to you."

She avoided answering as she bent over him to inspect the damage to his shoulder. When she dabbed at his bloody chest with the towel, Dominic caught her arm.
"Brie.
Please . . . I want to apologize. I had no intention of putting you in such danger. Truly, I had not thought
Germain
would involve you."

"It was not your fault," she replied, uncomfortable with both the subject and Dominic's nearness.

Dominic glanced down at her bandaged wrists and his jaw hardened. "But it was my fault—for not being prepared. I knew what
Germain
was like and I should have expected his next move. He was a dangerous man, Brie, with abduction and
murder
only two of the specialties in his bag of tricks. He had already killed once, in that same house. The boy was your grandfather's son Nicholas."

"I . . .
I realized that at the time, from your conversation."

"And can you forgive me?"

Feeling his penetrating gaze search her face, Brie looked away. "There is nothing to forgive. Indeed, I should be thanking you for rescuing me. I was never in my life so pleased to see anyone."

"I regret that you had to witness our fight, especially when I had to kill
Germain
. But I couldn't let him live, Brie, not after what he had done to you."

"He didn't harm me," she said quietly, remembering the pain of
Germain's
rough treatment and the greater anguish of Dominic's indifference.

"But I think you misunderstood my words at first. I had to say what I did. Had I given
Germain
the slightest indication I was concerned for you, he wouldn't have hesitated to use his knife on you."

Brie looked down at the towel she was twisting in her hands. "I realized that, too . . . when I had time to consider. But your . . . indifference was difficult to bear."

"Was it? Is that why you refused my proposal, Brie?
Because you thought me indifferent?"

When she made no reply, Dominic felt hope surge within him. He took a deep breath and drew Brie down to sit beside him. "I wasn't at all indifferent," he said solemnly. "The moment you left, I realized what a fool I had been—for not telling you that I love you."

Slowly, Brie lifted her head to stare at him. "You love me?"

Dominic studied her face, noting the guarded expression in her eyes. Striving to find the right words, he lowered his voice to a mere whisper. "You refused me once, Brie, but I hope to God it was my manner of approaching you and not your feelings that prompted your refusal. I'm asking you again. . . . Will you marry me?"