"Dominic, about what happened this evening—"
"I don't wish to discuss it, Denise."
When she realized he was serious, Denise flounced down from the carriage and whirled to face him. "Damn you, Dominic! What do you want from me? You practically command me to attend the ball with you this evening, but when we arrive, you completely ignore me. Then you whisk me away while everyone is staring at us, without so much as a by your leave, and then you have the temerity to drop me on my doorstep like a piece of unwanted baggage!"
"I've no interest in sharing you with half the men in London, chérie."
"Well! I never expected you of all men to act the prude. You and your little Miss Carringdon are well matched, I must say!"
"Leave her out of this," he said savagely.
Denise's smile was a perfect imitation of Dominic's usual sardonic one. "Did that touch a nerve, milord? She put those scratches on your handsome face, didn't she. Poor darling. It must rankle to know that not every woman leaps at the chance to bed the great Lord Stanton!"
Dominic's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Denise stood there a moment longer, glaring at him defiantly, but then she bit her lip. "Please forgive me for saying that, darling." Letting tears well in her eyes, she held out her arms to him.
Dominic looked at her with cool contempt. "Enough of your tricks, Denise. I'm not coming in. If you wish, however, I shall stop the first gentleman I pass and send him to you. It would be a pity to let your lovely charms go untasted."
Denise uttered a shriek and tore her reticule from her wrist, intending to throw it in his face, but Dominic closed the door and rapped on the ceiling. The coach pulled away, leaving her to vent her fury on the hapless cobblestones.
Chapter Fourteen
For the first few hours, the Earl of Stanton's well-sprung travelling coach made good time on the road from London to Dover. The coach's occupants travelled in comparative comfort, although there was little conversation to lighten the tedious miles.
Jason, finding Dominic uncommunicative, settled back to watch the passing scenery from the coach window. After a time, though, his thoughts strayed from the rolling Kentish landscape to the ugly rumors that had reached his ears before leaving London that morning. According to the reports, Dominic had behaved outrageously at the Copely's ball and had torn Brie Carringdon's reputation to shreds in the process. Jason would have liked to know just how much truth was in those rumors, but Dominic had refused to discuss the matter.
He didn't appear to be too concerned now, Jason thought with a glance at his friend. Dominic was dozing in the forward seat, his arms folded across his chest, his long legs stretched comfortably before him. Jason shrugged. One could never tell about Dominic. The man had a well-developed talent for keeping his thoughts hidden .His success as a spy had depended on it. It was only because they had known each other for so long that Jason was able to sense the simmering anger behind the enigmatic mask. Something definitely had happened yesterday, Jason knew. But he also knew the subject would remain closed until Dominic chose to open it.
Jason was about to follow Dominic's example and get some sleep when the horses suddenly slackened their pace. He could hear the coachman's voice raised in altercation, and when he glanced out the window, he could see a lone, caped horseman riding beside the box.
"I think it would behoove you to wake up, Dom," Jason said as the coach ground to a halt. "I do believe we are being held up.
Dominic raised one eyelid. "Jacques has dealt with highwaymen before. He can be counted on to handle it."
"Is that so?" Jason replied, watching as the rider dismounted. "Then why do you not tell that to our uninvited guest? He appears to be coming this way."
Dominic sat up then, and as a precaution, checked to see that the pistols in the carriage side pockets were primed and loaded. Jason kept an eye out the window, relaxing somewhat when he realized the horseman was but a mere youth. The boy had a slender figure, and although his hat was pulled well down to cover his face, his exposed chin was smooth and beardless. He was hidden from view as he handed his reins to one of the footman, but a moment later the door was flung open. To his astonishment, Jason found himself staring directly into the lovely blue-green eyes of Brie Carringdon.
She seemed surprised to see him as well, but as she took the seat next to Jason, she recovered her poise. "I beg your pardon, Lord Effing," she said with an aplomb that would have done credit to a diplomat. "I did not expect to see you here." With a faint smile, Brie indicated the pistol in her hand. "You needn't worry. I don't intend to shoot you. Your friend, however, is another matter entirely. Hello, Dominic."
Jason, knowing Dominic well, expected any number of reactions from him: surprise, scorn, anger, even caution. But neither Jason nor Brie anticipated Dominic's amusement. "Ah, chérie," he said, his gray eyes narrowing with laughter. "You never cease to amaze me. I thought I had gotten rid of you, yet here you are, pointing a gun at my head after holding up my coach in broad daylight. What will you do next, I wonder?"
Brie shrugged indifferently, keeping a firm rein on her temper. She would never have let Dominic know what it had cost her pride to arrange this meeting. His cruelty last night had hurt her beyond feeling—or so she told herself. "I am sorry to disappoint you, Lord Stanton," she replied, "but I did not hold up your coach. Your coachman recognized me and allowed me to board."
"I did not think Jacques was so lacking in sense. Tell me, dear girl, what do you intend to do now? Kidnap me?"
His tone held the familiar mockery, but Brie had braced herself for it. "Not at all," she replied coolly. "And in any case," she gave Jason a brilliant smile, "I doubt Lord Effing would allow such a thing."
Jason returned her smile with one of his own. "Probably not, Miss Carringdon, but I expect it would depend on your reasons." He leaned back in his seat, beginning to enjoy himself. "Why did you, er, join us in such an unorthodox fashion?"
"I want to know where you are going."
"Why?" The question came from Dominic, and Brie tried not to flinch at his savage tone.
"Yes, why, Miss Carringdon?" Jason asked more gently.
She turned pleading eyes to Jason, finding it easier to look at him than Dominic. "Lord Effing, I assume you have heard by now of the Durhams? Are you also aware of my relationship with that family? Suzanne Durham was my mother. I . . ." Brie faltered, then took a deep breath. "I have several reasons for wishing to accompany y
ou. First, Lord Stanton believes that my mother was responsible for the arrest of his father. I do not. My mother was simply not the kind of person who could send someone to a certain death. I intend to find out what happened."