If You Were Mine (Cavendish Mysteries 1) - Page 26

“You were?” Isobel finished weakly turning her horrified gaze towards Dominic.

Dominic reached into his pocket and pulled out the thin gold chain that had been the evidence used to convince them of her demise. “Why was this on another body by the side of the road in Newisham?”

He watched carefully as Isobel stared in horror at the necklace dangling from his fist. With a trembling hand she reached out to touch the necklace that had once been so dear to her. Dominic watched as her trembling hand hesitated mere inches from the delicate object before dropping back into her lap with a thump. She knew something, he was sure of it. His eyes met with hers questioningly. He was unsurprised when her gaze slid away from his guiltily. He knew her well enough to know that she was hiding something.

“Who gave it to you?” Isobel whispered, staring at her once adored necklace with something akin to appalled horror. He noted she didn’t ask where they had found it.

“The magistrate gave it to us when we found your grave. It was the only item found on the body of a badly beaten woman found by the roadside. It was what convinced us that it was you they had buried. It was once your most treasured possession was it not?” Dominic was aware that his tone had become brisk, and did little to hide his disquiet. He had never quite managed to banish the grief of kneeling beside her grave. Suddenly, he was so very angry at the misunderstandings of the past and after everything, her apparent reluctance to trust him.

“I-I don’t know,” Isobel said, breaking her fascinated stare and looking at the floor. She jumped when Peter sat forward in his seat.

“Please Isobel, is there anything you can tell us that might help, anything at all? Any snippets of conversation overheard. People you met, anything?”

Isobel frowned as she searched her memory. “I was kept locked in my room upon first arriving in Gosport. I was only called down to listen to one of Rupert’s rants, before I was sent back up to my room. I didn’t even mee

t DeLisle as he was due to arrive the day after I escaped. Once I got away from him, I kept moving and made sure I stayed out of sight. I didn’t make eye contact with anyone, and I am fairly positive nobody was following me.” There had been times in the first couple of weeks of her flight that Isobel could quite believe she was the only person in the whole world still alive. Sometimes, she went two or three days without seeing anyone other than sheep or cows.

“Not until I met Dominic that day in the village,” she said, glad to be able to turn the conversation away from the necklace and toward the reassuring bulk of Dominic. She watched as he placed his tea cup down upon the table beside the necklace with too much care. She quickly looked away from the necklace that had once been so dear to her – it made her feel far too uncomfortable. It reminded her so much of what she had not told them.

Suddenly, she yawned loudly. “Oh please excuse me. That was so rude of me.” The room began to swirl around her as tiredness settled around her shoulders once more. “I suddenly feel so very tired.”

“You must be exhausted,” Dominic replied studying her pale features with a frown. “It is the longest you have been up since you arrived!” His brief smile didn’t reach his eyes as stood up.

“I do feel tired but also livelier than I have felt for a long time. It feels good to be up and about.”

She was swept high into his arms and only just managed to say a quick good-bye to Peter, before she disappeared out of the door.

“You know you will have to allow me to walk the stairs by myself sometime. At the rate I am putting on weight, you will be lucky if you can get me off the ground, let alone up a flight of steps.”

“Well, manners dictate that I shouldn’t mention it, but now that you have ...” Dominic shot her a teasing smile as he nudged the door open with his foot before placing her carefully beside the bed. “I am sure that I can manage a few more pounds before I need to call a footman to help me.”

Isobel thwacked his arm and shot him a mock glare. Dominic’s green gaze caressed her moistened lips for several moments. Briefly, his eyes touched hers as he breathed her name before gently placing a ghost of a kiss across her lips.

“Dominic,” Isobel moaned softly as his hands encircled her waist, pulling her tighter into his embrace.

It was all the permission Dominic needed, and he drew her even closer until there wasn’t a breath of air between them. Slowly he devoured her mouth with his. His hand snaked into the soft curls of her hair holding her still as his lips plundered hers ruthlessly. Teasing and tasting her; demanding her total compliance and accepting nothing less than her absolute surrender.

Gasping for breath, Isobel found her mouth suddenly released only for hot molten kisses to be trailed down her neck. Tipping her head backwards, she shivered with delight as his tongue dipped into the hollow at the base of her neck before trailing back upwards to nip at her ear. “I know your secret.” He whispered softly. Isobel froze.

“Pardon?” She willed herself not to look guilty, and remained still as the white-hot haze of passion dwindled rapidly.

“You need to trust me Isobel,” Dominic chided, staring into her eyes meaningfully before casually releasing his hold on her. It was almost painful to tear himself away from her lush bounty. He kept his face carefully bland, and he turned to sit on the side of the bed, staring into the fire as he willed his body to cool. “Think on it. If our marriage is to be a happy one, there has to be trust.” He knew she understood, and bit back a curse of frustration when she stoically remained silent. Who was she protecting?

Isobel watched as his gaze hardened, and a muscle ticked steadily in his jaw as the silence lengthened. He was angry at her. Very angry. She raised her chin defiantly, and met his stare with a bland look of query.

Disappointed she wasn’t willing to take him into her confidence, Dominic heaved a sigh and stood.

“I need to discuss several matters with Peter, and will be a while. Sleep well,” he muttered, closing the door with a firm click behind him.

He wouldn’t return that night, whatever the personal cost to his libido. She needed to decide if she would trust him implicitly or not. A surge of anger swept through him as he considered the different people she could be protecting, and what kind of hold they had over her to make her so willing to go against the protection of her brother, and future husband, to protect their identity.

For one thing was certain, it was definitely a man.

CHAPTER EIGHT

She loved him wholeheartedly, and always had, Isobel mused several days later as she stared out over the snow laden landscape despondently. Since she had recounted life with Rupert, she certainly felt less burdened by the stark memories of her experiences at his hands. What bothered her more than anything was that for the second night now, Dominic had not returned to the master suite to share the vast expanse of bed with her. When they did meet up downstairs, he was always formally polite, yet distant. As though disappointed with her, and waiting.

She knew he wanted her to tell him her secrets. Inwardly she knew she ought, but loyalty to the man who had helped keep her alive and the trouble she could bring him, kept her stoically quiet. Still, the distance between herself and Dominic was something she couldn’t stand for much longer. She wasn’t even certain she was relieved that there had been no further mention of marriage between them. He hadn’t pushed, or asked, or pestered. She wasn’t sure she liked it. With a frown she contemplated her relationship with him.

Tags: Rebecca King Cavendish Mysteries Historical
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