Dominic’s breath locked in his chest at the sight of the sheer pleading on Isobel’s face. Frowning in consternation, the questions he wanted to ask her froze in his throat. Immediately he was caught by the sheer terror in her eyes as she glanced over his shoulder, warning him silently of the looming threat. He didn’t need to turn around to know who was there.
Ignoring the squat man, whose presence he could sense directly behind him, Dominic went against every protective instinct within him, and gave her the protection she so desperately needed, the only way he could.
“I gave you your duties this morning, lad,” he snapped impatiently. “What do you think you are doing undertaking errands for the Cook? Get back to the Hall this instant!” His voice was stern and brooked no argument. His eyes locked upon Isobel’s for an instant and he slowly winked, aware of her stunned surprise. He tried desperately to convey all the emotions current circumstances prevented him from voicing, pleading with her to trust him. Please darling, go!
He almost burst with frustration when she hesitated, her delicate brows puckered in confusion. Determined to protect her at all costs, he gave her a gentle shove toward the road, and away from the menacing threat of her uncle.
Without hesitation, she suddenly launched into action and disappeared into the milling throng on the main street. He hoped with all of his heart, that she had the wisdom to seek sanctuary at Havistock Hall.
It took every ounce of self control he possessed to turn toward the rotund little man now standing at his elbow, and glare nonchalantly at him. A dispassionate brow raised in contemptuous enquiry.
Inwardly, he wanted to beat the man to within an inch of his life. Drawing upon reserves he didn’t know he had, he stared coldly down at Isobel’s Uncle Rupert silently, smiling cynically as the little man shuffled uncomfortably beneath the penetrating stare.
“Good morning, my lord,” Rupert Davenport announced with a jovial smile that did little to reach his beady brown eyes. His ineffectual bow of politeness wasn’t returned.
“What do you want Davenport?” Dominic snapped impatiently, glancing toward the milling throng. “I don’t believe we are well enough acquaintances for you to approach me in the street.” He made no attempt to disguise the contempt in his voice, and felt a small measure of satisfaction in the squat little man’s uncomfortable shuffling as he tried to find a way around the awkward situation he was currently in, without losing face.
“I had heard you were dead, my lord.” Rupert Davenport replied, watching the heavily cloaked figure disappear into the bustling throng with interest. His attention was drawn back to the looming presence of the man beside him, as he snorted with derision.
“Sorry to disappoint you old man,” Dominic snarled with a disgusted glare. He shifted slightly towards the older man, drawing his attention away from Isobel. Smiling inwardly, he knew he had just given Isobel a chance of escaping the vile creature before him.
Luckily for Rupert Davenport, civility decreed it impolite to simply beat the man senseless there and then, and leave his carcass by the side of the road for the rats.
“How is Peter Davenport?”
Dominic wasn’t fooled by the conversational tone of the older man.
“I understand you are good friends with him. Is it true what the gossips are saying?”
Despite his hatred for the man, Dominic found himself intrigued. “What are the gossips saying?”
“Well, I understand Peter was murdered by some smugglers,” Rupert was unable to keep the hint of glee from his voice.
“Sorry to disappoint you old man,” Dominic felt a small surge of satisfaction at the angry colour that flooded the cheeks of the squalid man beside him. “But the last time I saw Peter, he was very much alive and well.”
“Oh, but-.”
Dominic coldly interrupted the older man’s blustering with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders that caused the florid faced little man to blush further.
“You know you really must get yourself better gossips, everyone you seem to know appears to be dead!” Dominic’s voice was liberally tinged with amusement. He didn’t bother to sa
y anything else, and casually mounted his horse. He paused only long enough for his cold and disinterested gazed to make the small man uncomfortable.
“It will take more than gossip to get me Rupert Davenport, you should know that,” his mocking voice hung between them for several moments. Dominic settled back in the saddle, watching the flash of anger the older man hadn’t been able to hide. “Never forget, the past will always come back to haunt you.” With that last aside, Dominic casually nudged his horse into a slow walk.
Without looking at the little man again, he guided his mount through the myriad of bustling bodies lining the main street, and headed toward home.
It took everything every ounce of self control he possessed not to dig his heels into his horse, and take off at a fast run after her. Enough time had elapsed to give Isobel ample opportunity to put distance between herself and Davenport; if only he knew where she was going.
While outwardly he appeared relaxed and at ease, Dominic carefully scanned every nook, alley and corner as he made his way out of town toward Havistock Hall.
Would Isobel have the good sense to go to his estate? He hoped she trusted him enough to seek sanctuary there. Surely, his actions in the village had proven he would protect her.
Still, he couldn’t forget the look of sheer terror that had suffused her beautiful features when she had seen Rupert approaching. Even with the ravages of life on the street clearly evident on her grimy face, her delicate beauty had still shone through.
Where the hell had she been? Moreover, why hadn’t she come to him sooner?
He had not gone far before he met with his groom, whom he had earlier dispatched to search for sign of Davenport in town.