Blue eyes clashed with green in a silent battle of wills briefly. “After last night, I have had my fill of adventures for now,” Isobel continued as she slowly trailed a finger through the soft fur on his chest. “Last night was terrifying, enlightening and wonderful in equal amounts. Although certain parts of it were delightful,” she shot him a cheeky smile. “There are elements I would never wish to repeat as long as I live. That house must be horrible in daylight, at night time it is positively menacing. I hope never to go there again.” She paused, unsure how to broach the subject.
“I hope to heaven you mean that, darling.”
“I promise that I will leave Rupert and DeLisle to you from now on, but I want you to promise me something in return.” Isobel pushed her husband onto his back and leant over him until they were practically nose to nose. Staring into his wary green gaze, Isobel slowly traced a finger over the dark arch of one brow. “Promise me that you won’t go anywhere without some kind of protection yourself.”
“Everyone is going to be armed, including the serving staff. I have assured them that should they not wish to become involved, they may visit relations, however those that remain do so knowing that Rupert and DeLisle are at considerable risk. Everyone who remains will be on guard.” Dominic lay back against the soft pillow of cushions, taking a few moments to pull her down onto his chest. “However you must play your part. You are not to involve yourself in anything else. Understand?”
“I understand.” Isobel propped herself on her elbow to lean over her husband for a kiss only to pause at the muffled shouting.
“Get dressed!” Dominic ordered, lurching out of bed in a flurry of movement that left her gasping for breath. Within seconds he had donned his shirt and breeches, and was pulling on his boots, pausing only to draw on his sword before shooting her a starkly warning look from the doorway. “I don’t suppose it will do any good to tell you to stay here?”
Isobel rolled her eyes at the ridiculous question as she had already slipped on an old walking dress, and was tugging on her walking boots.
Heaving a sigh, Dominic slid a hand behind her head and pulled her close for a quick kiss. “Stay close, and don’t do anything stupid,” Dominic’s voice was harsh as he glared down at her.
Isobel sighed and gave him a not so gentle shove towards the door, close on his heels as they moved purposefully towards the upper landing. The closer they got to the upper landing, the more distinguishable the voices became.
“Rupert,” Isobel whispered pausing at the top of the stairs. Despite Dominic’s reassuring presence, her stomach lurched sickeningly and she fought the urge to turn on her heel and head back toward the safety of the bedroom.
“Go back and lock the door,” Dominic ordered, hating to see the worry on her beautiful features.
“I have to face him.” She valiantly tried to ignore the tremor in her voice, taking support from the solid bulk of her husband’s commanding presence.
“No you don’t,” Dominic argued, glaring at her. He wondered briefly if he should take precious seconds to lock her in the bedroom regardless, but knew she was better off being with him. Shaking his head at the futility of arguing with her, he turned and moved down the stairs, his attention firmly focused on the still form of the woman behind him.
As he descended he scanned the recesses around the large entry hall, his eyes locked upon the steady gaze of Edwards - his most trusted footman - who was standing in the shadows toward the back of the house, watching and waiting. As he reached the main hall, he was aware of his wife moving slowly down the stairs, her back ramrod straight. He paused briefly to motion her toward the study door and the raised voices within.
“Isobel, get down here now girl!” Rupert’s voice echoed through the empty hall, making Isobel jump in fear and pause. Her instincts wanted to curl up in fear and protect herself, but this was her house; her home. She wasn’t going to be commanded by the pompous bully in her own house. Shoulders straightening, her eyes turned glacial with fury and, with Dominic’s commanding presence by her side, she entered the study.
Dominic slammed open the study door open with a bang and a dark scowl at the occupants. His hard emerald gaze locked firmly upon the stocky man standing with red-faced belligerence besides the hearth.
“What do you think you are doing man?” Dominic snarled, his palms itching to punch him on the nose. “This is my house, and I will not countenance your boorish behaviour. Quieten down!” His command cracked across the room more ruthlessly than a whip.
Rupert raised his chin haughtily, but only succeeded in making himself look like an outraged toad. “I am here to see my niece,” Rupert’s voice dripped with cool disdain as he tried, and failed, to match the sheer masculinity of the man before him.
Isobel swallowed a wild surge of hysteria that built as she eyed the two men before the hearth. They looked like two dogs eyeing each other over a juicy bone; only Rupert could only be likened to an ineffectual mongrel, whose yapping little bark was no match for the might of the controlled pedigree before him.
Isobel slowly moved into the room, determined to make Rupert wait. Drawing on every ounce of the bravado that had kept her alive on the streets, she drew herself up to her full height and stared coldly at the squat little man she was unfortunately related to.
“Well, you see me, what do you want now Rupert? I do believe any association between us is well and truly severed.” Her icy gaze swept dispassionately over his squat little frame before she rudely turned her back and took a seat nearest to Dominic.
“Severed? Do you think so?” Rupert’s face clearly showed the ravages wrought from a life of dissolution, making him look old and worn.
“What do you want with my wife, Rupert? Speak now before I throw you and your – associate - out on your ears.” Dominic shot the gaunt man standing a few paces away from Peter a darkly menacing look.
“Wife?” Rupert shot a mock startled look at Isobel. “Did you say wife?” He shared a mocking glance with his friend who had thus far remained silent, before turning back towards the room with a triumphant look upon his ravaged features. “She cannot be your wife!” Rupert’s voice was scornful. He was clearly enjoying his time in the spotlight and intended to draw out every moment of twisting the knife.
“I can assure you, she very much is,” Dominic declared flatly in a voice tinged with boredom. He motioned toward the door. “Our interview is now at an end.”
“I can assure you, whatever agreement you think you may have entered into with this woman, you are certainly not married to her legally,” R
upert announced to his assembled audience, clearly relishing the distress his latest gambit would cause.
Dominic fought the urge to snarl as he watched the older man produce a roll of parchment from under his coat as though producing a rabbit out of a hat. He casually sauntered forwards, a look of glee upon his face as he handed the scroll to Dominic with a flourish. He was unable to keep the nasty sneer of triumph off his face as he presented the fait accompli to the occupants of the room. His next words dropped like stones into the room.
“You can clearly see from the document my Lord, she is already married.”
Isobel briefly fought the urge to laugh, before swallowing harshly against the knot of bile lodged in her throat. Knees trembling with horror she watched as Dominic took the paper and studied it closely. Her heart sank to her knees, and the room began to swirl and sway around her as she watched the colour leave his face. Instinctively, she knew by the clenching of his jaw, that he believed what he saw.