"She seems to me to be somewhat headstrong, not to mention foolish," Dominic said, inspecting the bore of his weapon.
Julian shook his head. "Brie may be stubborn and have a temper, Dom, but she is far from foolish. She happens to be the most intelligent woman I know."
"That isn't saying much," Dominic returned cynically. "But I will agree that Miss Carringdon is definitely unique, traipsing around in her breeches. I've seen street urchins who were better dressed. I expect more than a few of my acquaintances would appreciate her unusual style of fashion though—all male, of course."
"She doesn't dress like that all the time."
"I should hope not. How did you come to know her, anyway?"
Julian shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his friend's penetrating gaze. "Do you remember when I first met you in Vienna a few years ago? I told you I was suffering from a broken heart. You laughed in my face, I recall."
"Some girl in London, I believe? Ahh, Brie Carringdon?" When Julian nodded, Dominic once again experienced a surge of irrational envy. "Is she your mistress?" he asked, trying to keep his tone bland.
Julian looked up with a start. "Brie? Good God, no! She's a lady."
"Ladies have been known to overstep the bonds of propriety before, my friend."
"Well, she is not my mistress. I wanted to marry her, but she wouldn't have me."
"Why not? Your fortune not large enough?"
Julian stared hard at Dominic for a moment, not liking his implication or his sardonic tone. Then suddenly he laughed.
"Dom, Brie inherited everything from her father. Her fortune is more than adequate and she certainly doesn't need mine. No, she didn't love me."
"I see," Dominic drawled.
"No, you don't see. Damn it, I tell you you're wrong about her. She could have any man she wanted. She's beautiful and kind and honest—"
"Spare me a catalogue of her virtues," Dominic interjected, rubbing his cheek. "I've already sampled her kindness."
Julian grinned. "Brie told me about hitting you."
"She did, did she? What else did she say?"
"Nothing, other than to call you an insufferable tyrant. Completely justified, if your behavior today was any indication of how you treated her then." Julian chuckled. "I would have given a monkey to see the look on your face after—"
"I assume she was the reason you found Rutland so fascinating," Dominic interjected, wanting to know more about his friend's relationship with Brie.
"In part. When I returned to England, I saw Brie again in London and we became friends. I came up here last year with her aunt and uncle when they were visiting. I liked the area, so I bought this place. You might know Brie's uncle, Sir Miles Langley. His wife Arabella was Carringdon's sister."
"I know him," Dominic said with a twisted smile. "And I pity the poor bastard. Lady Arabella is a veritable dragon."
Julian laughed. "Quite. And that's precisely what Brie calls her."
"Umm, perhaps your Miss Carringdon has more sense that I credited her with. Are you over your infatuation with her then?"
Julian gave a thoughtful frown. "I suppose so."
"You suppose?" Dominic said dryly. "Don't you know?"
Shrugging, Julian drew an imaginary pattern on the table top with a forefinger. "You know, I've asked Brie to marry me a dozen times, but she only laughs as if I am joking and says we wouldn't suit. I still love her, but I'm beginning to believe she is right about a marriage between us. She is . . . difficult to handle when she's in one of her tempers."
"You could always turn her over your knee," Dominic suggested, finding some pleasure in
the idea.
"You must be joking. That would be the last way to win her affection. She wouldn't stand for it anyway." Seeing the gleam in Dominic's gray eyes. Julian eyed him suspiciously. "You aren't thinking of doing something like that, are you?"