“Or perhaps your servants worry that the Prince will soon own your estate?”
He scowled. “I’ll marry her if I have to, I just don’t want to. It’ll be a marriage made in hell, so why wouldn’t I do everything in my power to prevent it?”
“But what if it’s not? What if she’s nothing like her brother? Whatever Robert has done to deserve your wrath, no one else perceives him as any more wicked than your typical egotistical rakehell, you know. So why would you condemn your bride just because she’s sister to a man you—”
“Matchmaker isn’t a role that becomes you, Cilla.”
She laughed. “You’ll do as you will no matter what anyone says. I was merely distracting you. Checkmate.”
He laughed and stood up. She was staying the night and had even offered to sleep in his bed, promising she would be careful of his leg. He had declined the offer, but asked her to keep him company until she was ready to retire. He had hoped Brooke would join them for the meal they’d had a few hours ago. Priscilla had been lying beside him in bed and he’d had his arm around her while they talked. He’d timed it just right, too. The food arrived. But Brooke didn’t.
He went to the north window overlooking the park to watch the sunset. The house was sufficiently angled for him to be able to see part of the sunrise and the winding south road from this window, but the sunset had to spread its light widely for him to see any of it. He saw none of it tonight due to a dark bank of clouds.
“It appears to be raining in the north. It’s just as well you didn’t try to get home before dark.”
Priscilla joined him at the window. “That looks nasty.”
“It will likely blow over before you depart in the morning.”
“I don’t mind traveling in the rain, only in the dark. And the wind appears to be blowing north. That might not even reach us.” She glanced down. “Should you be putting pressure on that leg?”
“Only when Gabe isn’t in the room. Damned mother hen, he is. It doesn’t hurt, Cilla. And Dr. Bates doubled up on the stitches after the first set broke.”
“It really doesn’t hurt?” She smiled intimately, placing her hand suggestively on his upper thigh that wasn’t wounded.
He chuckled, guessing the direction of her thoughts. “I only got rid of the fever two days ago. The wound is merely numb, probably from that witchy paste the girl puts on it.”
“You should have married me when you had the chance, darling, then you wouldn’t be in this pickle.”
That wouldn’t have prevented the duels. Whitworth still had to pay for what he’d done. Dominic couldn’t share that with Priscilla. She loved gossip too much and couldn’t be trusted not to spread the reason for Ella’s death far and wide.
However, without that knowledge, she seemed to find his predicament funny. But then she’d also said that she liked the girl’s spunk. Women. There was no accounting for taste or their vagaries.
The door suddenly burst open and Gabriel said, “Something has happened to Lady Whitworth. She hasn’t returned from her ride.”
Dominic started to smile. “Hasn’t she?” But then he turned and saw Gabriel’s worried expression. “How long has she been gone?”
“It’s been at least three hours now. She didn’t come back for her dinner.”
Then she’d actually left of her own accord. Dominic was surprised. He didn’t think his flaunting his mistress in front of Brooke would work, but maybe that, coupled with his anger, had finally chased her away. “That’s good news.”
“No, it’s not. Her maid is frantic. She swears her lady wouldn’t leave without her, and I agree. She wouldn’t leave on horseback either. Something’s happened to her. And it will soon be dark.”
All relief fled. “Andrew!” Dominic bellowed. “Bring me trousers that haven’t been butchered and my greatcoat for the rain.”
“You can’t go out,” Gabriel protested.
“Of course I can. If she dies on the moors, the Prince will think I killed her. I assume someone has already checked the village?”
“That was the first place we looked.”
“Go have Royal saddled.”
“Dom, please, you can’t ride again this soon. I just wanted permission to round up all the men to start searching for her.”
“You can do that as well, but there’s not many of them with mounts who can search far, and we don’t have enough saddles to use my horses. And she’s my responsibility. I could wish it was otherwise, but that fact stands. So don’t argue with me.”
As soon as Gabriel rushed out of the room, Priscilla said drily, “I suppose I’ll find a bottle of brandy to take to bed with me.”
“You aren’t worried about her?”
“Why would I be? I’m sure you’ll find her. She probably just rode into the rain and has found shelter from it.”
“Possibly.”
Wolf followed him out of the room. Dominic entered Brooke’s room first to grab something of hers for the dog to smell. Her room was nearly Spartan though, as if she hadn’t unpacked—or she’d taken what she wanted with her today. It was still possible that she wasn’t lost but fleeing. It would be much more difficult to find someone who didn’t want to be found.
Downstairs, his cook was waiting for him and thrust a sack of food at him. “She hasn’t eaten” was all she said.
Marsha’s worry was evident. So was Arnold’s. At the stable, the elderly groom thrust another sack of supplies at him and attached two lanterns to Royal’s saddle before he handed off the reins to Dominic.
He heard someone yelling and glanced toward the house. Brooke’s maid was running toward him, and Gabriel was trying to stop her. But she shook her arm loose from Gabe and ran forward to demand of Dominic, “What did you do to upset her today? She never takes long rides unless she’s upset!”
He didn’t have time for this and didn’t even address Alfreda. “Take her back to the house,” he said to Gabriel before leaving them there.
Dominic rode around behind the pastures before he dismounted to let Wolf smell the ribbons he’d taken from Brooke’s vanity. “Find her,” he told the dog. He’d taken Wolf hunting enough times to know he could depend on him to catch Brook’s scent.
Wolf sniffed around only briefly before taking off in the direction in which Arnold had said Brooke rode off.
Although it was still dusk, he lit one of the lanterns before the rain reached him. Not far to the north, he could see the heavy deluge, which looked like a solid gray curtain hiding the land in the distance from him. Wolf charged toward it without a care. Dominic pulled up. Was he really going to ride into that? For her?
He spurred his stallion forward, thinking now he had another reason to dislike Brooke Whitworth.
Chapter Twenty-Five
THE WIND WAS HOWLING through the castle ruins, blowing so hard that moonlight appeared occasionally, but the rain was still so heavy Brooke could barely make out in the eerie light the lone tree, bent by the wind. Lightning was in the distance, but the thunder was loud enough to seem much closer.
Brooke might have considered this something of an adventure if she weren’t so cold, hungry, and uncomfortable in her soaked clothes as she sat huddled in a closet with just three stone walls still standing around her. Did castles even have closets? she wondered.
Whatever the space had been used for centuries ago, it was about three feet wide and only about five feet long, but at least it had a stone ceiling that hadn’t crumbled yet and a stone floor that was dry. There might once have been a door, but that had long since rotted away.
She’d been sitting there for what felt like hours, and time was moving excruciatingly slowly. She’d never find her way back to Rothdale in the darkness and the heavy rain. She’d have to wait here until the morning unless someone rescued her, but how likely was that? Alfreda would be worried. Dominic probably wouldn’t know or care that she’d been gone so long.
Earlier, as she’d watched a thick sheet of rain bearing down on her, she
’d felt daunted yet excited. She’d never seen anything like it. She’d tried to outrun it, but nature was too quick.
She’d stopped as the rain poured down on her and Rebel, not knowing what to do when she couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her in any direction. She’d wondered if Rebel would be able to find her way back to Rothdale if she gave her free rein or just get them hopelessly lost. Then she’d heard the big dog’s howling. At least, she’d hoped it was the dog and not something else.
It was those darned rumors about Dominic. And his pet that was big enough to be part wolf. The dog she’d run into today was even bigger, but it hadn’t threatened her. Both dogs must simply be a breed peculiar to this area that she’d never seen in Leicestershire. But obviously someone was breeding them this big up here in the north, and Dominic could have mentioned that instead of letting her think that a few packs of wolves had survived the extinction.
She turned about and headed back to find the dog. In a fanciful moment, she wondered if the animal was calling to her. It might be trying to lead her to its home, people, a warm fire. She’d settle for anything that got her out of the rain. But she certainly hadn’t counted on an animal den. The big mound the dog had been sitting next to had a hole on the other side of it, and Brooke saw the animal disappear inside it when she got there.
She dismounted and tried to peer into the hole, but it was too dark inside for her to see anything. There was no way she was going into the den, even if it might be dry in there. She looked north instead, where she’d seen the castle ruins. She might find shelter there. With the rain so heavy and clouds so low, she couldn’t see it now, but if she rode due north, she might find it. Or the dog might lead her there if she explained . . .
That was a silly notion, but she still spoke into the den. “No thank you, friend, I’d prefer to try the ruins. Would you like to come along?”
She remounted. The dog stuck its head out of the hole and watched her ride away. She glanced back to see if it would follow her, but already she couldn’t clearly see much of anything behind her.
She was disappointed when she located the ruins. Little of the castle was still standing. The area was littered with broken stone blocks from walls that had fallen. A fairly large tree stood in what had once been the courtyard or perhaps the remains of a great hall. She hobbled Rebel under the tree where the mare would have a little cover from the rain and carefully started picking her way through the slippery moss-covered stones, looking for shelter.
A partial stone stairway must have led to a higher floor, but nothing was up there now except for wind and rain. She hoped to find stairs that led down to a cellar, but the rain was still coming down in torrents, which limited visibility. She saw a flash of white though when the dog suddenly ran past her. She hurried up and followed it a little way beyond the broken stairway, where it sat down and waited for her. That was when she found her cubbyhole at the side of the stairway.
She stepped inside the small enclosure and invited the dog to join her, but it had already run away. Had it intentionally led her to that room, or had it only sat down to see what she was going to do next? Either way, she called out, “Thank you!” Then she moved as far back in the narrow room as she could go. Leaning against the back wall even though it was covered with moss, she closed her eyes, feeling thankful to be off her horse and sitting someplace dry.
She heard the sound of a horse approaching before she saw the dim light. It was still teeming rain. She stood up quickly and moved to the doorway of her cubbyhole and saw the huge hooded figure holding a lantern and leading his horse to the tree where poor Rebel was hobbled. Rescue! She was so relieved, even if it might only be someone out looking for his dog.
“Hello!” she yelled.
“I had a feeling . . .”
The wolf. She’d recognize his voice anywhere. The one person she did not want to be rescued by. And what the devil was he doing out of bed?
Chapter Twenty-Six
BROOKE DREADED GETTING DRENCHED again but imagined that Dominic wouldn’t want to stay here any longer than he had to, so she offered, “If you tell me you can find your way back to Rothdale in the dark, I’ll come out.”
He didn’t answer, which prompted her to change her mind about giving him conditions. She was reluctant to step back into that downpour until she had to. But when he came toward her and handed her his lantern before returning to the horses, she realized they might not be going back to the manor house right away. So she set the lantern in the far back corner of the cubbyhole, out of the way.
She returned to the doorway, but it was so dark she couldn’t see him or the horses. Was he looking for a bigger room that was still intact? No, he’d need the lantern for that. She supposed he could just be unsaddling the horses, but he should have examined the room first. It simply wasn’t big enough for the two of them.
When he loomed in the doorway again, she moved to the back wall to get out of his way. He had to duck down to enter the cubbyhole. Her head almost reached the ceiling, so he definitely couldn’t stand straight in here. He tossed her two leather sacks before he set down a second unlit lantern by the entrance and shrugged out of his greatcoat, which he left outside the enclosure since it was dripping wet. She saw that it had kept his clothes and hair, which was pulled back in a queue, from getting soaked like hers.
“Aren’t you going to lead us home tonight? You do know the way, don’t you?”
“Yes, but it’s not safe. The ground is muddy, the river has overflowed its banks, and there are deep pools of water out there. I’m not willing to take that risk.”
Brooke recalled what Arnold Biscane had told her about one of Dominic’s ancestors dying in a carriage accident during a rainstorm like this. It was sweet that Dominic cared so much for her safety to wait until morning to lead them home.
But then he added, “I’m not willing to risk Royal’s safety when he could slip and break a leg. I’m lucky we got this far without that happening.”
Of course, he wasn’t thinking about her at all! She gritted her teeth, hoping he’d stay at the opposite end of the small space. The room was far too narrow for them to maneuver around in it.
“Spread out the blankets before you take out the food.”
There was food! She quickly shook out two blankets, laid them on the stone floor, and sat down in the back quarter of the room before she reached for the other sack. She found a small meat pie and began eating. He could have sat in front of her, but instead he stretched out on the blankets and curled on his side next to her, resting on an elbow, his head nearly touching the back wall, his legs taking up far too much space now!
She quickly scooted around to face him before complaining, “There’s not enough room in here for both of us if you’re going to lie down.”
“There’s plenty. You can lie down, too, just curl up next to me. I’ve even brought you a pillow.”
He meant his arm, she guessed, though he was still leaning on it just then. He didn’t sound pleased to have made the offer, either. He was cramped, stuck in a small space with his enemy. Of course he wouldn’t be pleased. And his leg . . .
She glanced at his left thigh, concerned. “Does your leg pain you? You haven’t reopened the stitches, have you?”
“Would you like me to remove my trousers so you can take a look?” She must have looked so surprised by that suggestion, he amended, “The wound is securely bandaged and no longer pains me very much, due to your ministrations.”
Was that a thank-you? She was incredulous until he added, “You can consider this rescue payment for healing me. Now that we’re even, you can go home.”
He meant her home, not his. But the food was taking the edge off her hunger, so she tried not to let that comment darken her mood. “How did you find me?”
“Wolf led me this way.”
“Where is he?”
He snorted. “Probably still barking at the fox hole just south of here. I rode up here because I took shelter in these
ruins myself one summer during a sudden storm. It’s the only shelter in these parts, so I figured you might have found the castle’s last intact room.”
She wouldn’t exactly call it intact, but realized Dominic’s big body was blocking much of the wind gusts that blew in. Was that why he’d lain down? If so, that was quite—chivalrous of him.
A dog started barking.
“There he is now looking for me.”
Was that Wolf suddenly barking out there? Or was the white dog still in the ruins, disturbed by the sound of Dominic’s voice and sensing a threat? But Dominic obviously assumed it was Wolf and called to his pet. Repeatedly. If it was Wolf, he’d probably caught the scent of the other dog because he was now howling mournfully, as if calling to it.
Dominic finally shouted, “Get in here!”
Brooke shrieked when Wolf came into the cubbyhole and shook the rain off his coat before lying down at Dominic’s feet with a whimper. Dominic grumbled. Brooke rolled her eyes as she wiped the spray off her face.
Watching her, he asked curiously, “How did you find these ruins in the rain?”
“With help.”
“From whom?”
“Witch spirits.” She grinned. He snorted, so she simply said, “I’d just passed by when the rain started, so it was easy to get back here.”
She didn’t think he’d believe that a dog had called her back this way.
“Your maid was frantic when you didn’t return from your ride after a few hours. Most of the men on my estate are out looking for you. I thought you’d finally come to your senses and left Rothdale for good.”
Then why had he bothered to look for her himself? she should ask, but guessed it would lead to an argument, and that’s the last thing she wanted in their small space. She couldn’t exactly leave or slam any doors here!
“At least you’re not on Shaw land.”
Thank goodness, a neutral subject! “Are we still on yours?”