Velvet Embrace

It didn't take them long to reach the house where Germain was being held—a small, white structure a few miles north of town. They were greeted by a grim-faced housekeeper. "But you'll be wanting to see Mr. Germain, no doubt," she said, directing them up the stairs. "This way, if you please."

She led them to a closed door at the end of a corridor, where a brawny, dark-featured man was standing guard. Withdrawing a heavy key from her pocket, the housekeeper unlocked the door and stepped aside to admit the gentlemen. Dominic made no comment as he followed Jason into the room, but he noted the elaborate precautions with approval, including the heavy bars on the window.

Germain was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. The thick bandage wrapping his chest, as well as his sickroom pallor, indicated that he was recuperating from a severe injury. He didn't bother to look up when they entered.

"Morning, old man," Jason said cheerfuly. "Lovely day, isn't it?" When Germain gave an indignant grunt, Jason clicked his tongue. "Come now, you can do better than that. I've brought you a surprise."

The injured man opened one eye. Catching sight of Dominic, he sat up abruptly, clutching at his bandage while his color turned a shade more pale.

"Hello, Charles," Dominic said in a dangerously soft voice. When Germain only stared at him warily, Dominic raised an eyebrow. "What is this? Have your manners gone begging, Charles? Are you not going to invite me to be seated?"

"Oh, to be sure," Germain snarled, indicating the chair beside the bed. "After all, I am your prisoner, am I not?"

Turning the chair around, Dominic straddled the seat and casually draping his arms over the back. Then he pursed his lips as if considering a difficult problem. "That depends. I have several alternatives. Would you care to hear them?"

"I expect you plan to tell me, regardless."

Dominic remained unruffled. "My first is to turn you over to the authorities for attempted murder," he said coolly. "You might escape hanging, but a man recovering from a chest wound such as yours would not long survive a London prison."

Germain relaxed back against the pillows, his mouth curling in a sneer. "You won't have me arrested. That would implicate you as well, and you have far too much to lose."

"Did I say anything about a duel? Actually I was referring to the two ruffians you hired to kill me."

Charles was suddenly wary again. "You have no proof."

Dominic's lips twisted in a slow smile. "Ah, but I do. Before he died, your friend Freddie Boulter implicated you in front of a number of witnesses."

"Boulter is dead?" Charles asked, his tone sounding less assured.

"Quite dead. That is my second alternative for you, by the way. You were accosted by highwaymen, so the story goes, and were severely wounded. You were brought here to recover, but alas, you succumbed to a fever. Of course I mean to show profound grief at your death. I'll vow that I did everything in my power to save you. . . . But perhaps I needn't say anything at all. No one knows you are here. As far as the world is concerned, you disappeared three weeks ago. And I'm sure the good man waiting just outside your door could be persuaded to dispose of your body."

Germain said nothing, but there was a look of burning hatred in his eyes. Dominic returned his gaze steadily, his own e

yes as hard as flint. "Then there is always torture," he remarked blandly, "but that can be rather distasteful, wouldn't you agree?" Dominic flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his coat sleeve. "The last alternative might be more appealing to you, though I confess I don't care for it much. You can go free."

Seeing the flicker of interest in Germain's eyes, Dominic bent closer, his gray gaze holding Germain's like a moth with pinned wings. "I want the name of the man who hired you to kill me."

Germain licked his suddenly dry lips and involuntarily glanced at Jason for help. The tall marquess stood with his back to the room, looking out the window, ignoring the scene being enacted behind him. Germain returned his gaze to Dominic. "No," he said defiantly, determined to brazen it out.

Dominic stood up slowly. "Don't tell me you have suddenly developed a streak of loyalty, Charles. Remarkable. I never would have thought you capable of it. Jason, are you coming?"

Dominic went to the door and opened it, but then he turned back to address Charles once more. "I believe I neglected to tell you that I already have a good deal of information about your client. I know, for instance, that he is an Englishman currently living in France. And in a few days I shall have his direction. I will find him, even without your help."

Germain's bravado cracked. "All right, damn you! I'll tell you. It's Durham. Sir Charles Durham."

Dominic stiffened visibly, white lines appearing around his mouth. Then suddenly, he turned and walked out.

"Wait!" Germain shouted after him. "Did you hear me? You said I could go free!"

Dominic was already seated in the curricle when Jason joined him. Once glance at his friend's expression convinced Jason to hold his questions, but when Dominic sent his whip cracking over the heads of his pair, Jason stayed his arm. "Wait a minute, Dom. Let me take the reins till you cool down." He received a fulminating glare, but he made the exchange anyway.

As the curricle slowed to a more sedate pace, Dominic sat back in his seat, clenching his fists in cold fury. Durham. The very name was a curse. First the daughter, now the father. Dominic swore violently, venting his rage and frustration in a succession of oaths.

It was some time later when he took note of his surroundings. They were jogging slowly along a quiet road, some distance from the city. "Might I ask if we are going anywhere in particular?" he demanded of Jason.

"Ah, it speaks!" Jason replied. "But for the profanity issuing from its mouth, I would have sworn it had been struck deaf, dumb and blind."

Dominic gave a snort of mirthless laughter. "Blind, certainly. I should have expected something like this. Turn the horses around, Jase."