Velvet Embrace

"Yes, milord. She didn't want anyone with her. But she was carrying a pistol. A body had better think twice before bothering her."

Truly worried now, Julian requested to see Caroline and was shown into the breakfast room where she was still eating. "Where is your cousin?" he asked impatiently, not wasting time with polite greetings.

"Why, she is out riding," Caroline responded in surprise. "But any of the servants could have told you that."

"I didn't think Brie would be so foolish. Doesn't she know there are men at large who may very well be killers?"

"Of course she knows! Who could forget it after the fire? Brie said—and I perfectly agree with her—that it would serve no purpose to sit at home cowering while some monster beats her horses and burns down her barns. Indeed, I wouldn't be surprised if Brie has gone in search of them."

"What?" Julian said incredulously. "And you let her go?"

"Well, what, may I ask, did you expect me to do? Lock her in the dungeon? We don't have a dungeon!"

"For God's sake, Caroline, be quiet. I must think." Ignoring her indignant expression, Julian raked a hand through his hair and began to pace the floor. "At least Brie had enough sense to take a weapon. I only hope she won't be afraid to use it. Well," he said, stopping to glower at Caroline. "Don't just sit here staring. Get me some writing materials."

His tone was so serious that she decided not to argue. She returned a moment later with paper, pen, and ink.

Julian hastily scribbled a message and handed it to her with directions to have it delivered personally to Dominic. Then he picked up his hat and strode to the door.

Caroline ran after him. "If you're going to look for Brie, I'm coming with you."

Julian halted in mid stride, nearly causing a collision when he turned. His frown was menacing as he grasped Caroline by the shoulders. "No you won't, young lady. This is no task for a woman. If you so much as budge from this house, I will personally give you a sound thrashing. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Julian," she stammered.

He glowered a moment longer, then astonished her by grinning. "I only wish Brie were half so compliant. I'll be back as soon as I find her."

When he had gone, Caroline stood there staring until she suddenly recalled his instructions. Obediently then, she turned to give the bellpull a tug and proceeded to dispatch a footman with Julian's message.

Dominic had just returned to the Lodge when the note was delivered. Recognizing Julian's handwriting, he quickly perused the message, not having to read it a second time to realize that Brie had deliberately ignored his warning not to get involved. It read: Brie has gone after your quarry. Am going to search for her. Suggest you do the same. A t least she knows how to shoot.

Dominic swore under his breath, calling Brie any manner of uncomplimentary names—the tamest of which was 'idiotic little fool.' Promising himself when he found her he would wring her lovely neck, he lost no time in calling for his stallion. He also enlisted Jacques' aid in the search, ordering the Frenchman to cover the territory south of Greenwood, while he took the north.

Once he was on his way, galloping across the countryside, Dominic found himself growing increasingly anxious. If something should happen to Brie he would have only himself to blame. He had intended to tell her about his suspicions when he had called on her two days previously, but then the fire had made the situation far more serious. Wanting to get on with the search, he had not taken the time to explain.

That had been a mistake, Dominic admitted to himself. He had wanted to keep Brie out of it, but he should have told her his plans, as Julian had first suggested. He could well imagine her angry reaction when she learned he was controlling her servants. She was too proud to meekly accept his orders without reason. But now she had deliberately gone in search of danger, and she could be anywhere within a ten-mile radius.

When Diablo showed signs of laboring under the fast pace, Dominic slowed the sweating horse. He had been heading toward a distant stand of birch trees where he had discovered signs of habitation the previous day. The underbrush not only had been disturbed, but a charred spot indicated where someone had recently set up a campfire. The remains of several rabbits had been buried nearby, suggesting that the poachers had been there for more than one meal. Dominic was inclined to believe that the forest visitors and the men who had ignited the Greenwood fire were one and the same, and he meant to start his search for Brie there.

The morning seemed unusually quiet. Even Diablo's steel- shod hooves made little noise, muffled as they were by the damp earth. In the silence, Dominic had no trouble hearing the shot that rang out, or the woman's scream that followed.

He felt his heart lurch. Whirling the stallion in the direction of the shot, he dug in his heels.

At that moment Brie was wishing she had heeded Dominic's warning. She had not intended to search for anyone. She simply had refused to be confined at home and had gone riding. With half of Greenwood's servants out looking for the arsonist, however, she had expected to be quite safe. Taking her father's pistol had merely been a precaution.

She had ridden a good distance, letting Jester have his head, when she came to a shallow stream. The horse started misbehaving then, balking at the water and refusing to enter the woods on the far side. Brie had difficulty controlling the skittish animal, particularly since she was wearing skirts and riding sidesaddle, and she had further difficulty once they were among the trees. When they finally left the woods behind, Brie was in a fine temper. Seeing a field spread out before her, she urged the bay into a gallop, meaning to work off his fidgets.

They were in full stride when a loud retort sounded from the far end of the meadow. Jester suddenly stumbled, then fell hard, pitching Brie headfirst and startling a cry from her. She landed on her shoulder, doing several violent somersaults before coming to a halt.

The fall jarred her entire body. Dazed, she pushed herself up and shook her head to drive away the ringing echo in her ears. Her left ankle was throbbing, but otherwise she thought she was unhurt.

The man who had fired the shot was moving toward her, but she only had eyes for her injured horse. Jester lay a few yards away where he had fallen, blood streaming from his chest. Brie could tell from his thrashing movements that he was badly wounded, and his feeble efforts to rise brought tears to her eyes. She wiped them away as the gunman approached, however, realizing that this was no time for sentiment.

The man was a stranger to her. He was short and heavyset, and his rather ugly face sported a nose that had been broken at least once. He was grinning broadly, an unpleasant smile that made Brie want to shudder.

Slipping her hand in the pocket of her riding jacket, she felt for her pistol and breathed a sigh of relief when her fingers closed around the smooth handle. She kept it hidden beneath a fold of her skirt, waiting to see what the man would do.

Crooked-nose walked over to the wounded horse and savagely prodded the bay's neck with the butt of his flintlock. Giving a grunt of satisfaction, he turned to Brie. "Too bad about yer horse, ain't it?"