Authors: Johanna Lindsey
“And I’m surprised my dear sister hasn’t poisoned you yet. She promised she would—oh, I understand now, she’s waiting until after the wedding, I suppose.”
It felt like a physical blow to his gut. Dominic didn’t breathe for a moment. But it was obvious that Robert was just spewing venom to goad him. “She’s nothing like you,” he said contemptuously.
Robert laughed derisively. “She charmed you, did she? You actually fell for that? She did turn out prettier and more clever than I expected.”
The urge was there, powerful, immediate, to kill the man with his bare hands despite there being several dozen
pedestrians to witness it. But sanity prevailed, just barely. Dominic still landed a solid punch to Robert’s cheek that made him stumble backward several feet.
The surprised look Dominic saw on his enemy’s face wasn’t appeasing in the least. But it quickly turned murderous until Dominic took a step toward him. Robert moved back even more. He wasn’t a fighter, he was a coward, a seducer of innocents, an immoral blackguard of the worst sort.
“We aren’t related yet, Whitworth,” Dominic spat out. “When we are, you can expect a lot more of that.”
“Y
OU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND,
miss, that Lady Anna has quite a temper and often says things she doesn’t mean,” Mr. Hibbitt said as he collected Brooke’s empty lunch plate from the kitchen worktable. “Why, just last month our lady got so annoyed at the staff that she fired all of us, then spent two days tracking us down to rehire us and warned us never to take her mass firings seriously again.”
Brooke laughed, realizing the cook was trying to cheer her up. The short, corpulent fellow was quite different from the Rothdale cook, whom she hadn’t fully won over yet. This one was quite talkative. But the remark also made her guess that the whole staff must already have heard about her unpleasant first visit to Lady Anna’s room. She had heard some of them whispering while she was making the broth for Anna. When Mary, Anna’s personal maid, had come in to fetch her lady’s lunch tray and Brooke had added the bowl of broth to it, Mary had insisted that Brooke taste the broth first.
Brooke had been shocked, but she’d kept her tone neutral
when she’d replied, “I’ve already had a bowl. So has the kitchen staff, since it needs to be made fresh daily and will otherwise go to waste. Made with strained garlic and a few other beneficial vegetables, it’s believed to aid in repairing tissue damage in the lungs, but it is still quite tasty if you’re partial to garlic. And you must see that your lady drinks every drop of it, or Lord Wolfe will be informed that you are hindering his mother’s recovery.”
The girl, red cheeked, had left with Anna’s tray immediately, but Brooke was still smarting over the insult to her and its being witnessed by the kitchen staff.
The kitchen had gotten quite hot while lunch was prepared. As she wiped her brow, Brooke asked Mr. Hibbitt, “Is there a garden?”
“A small one behind the house. Nothing as fancy as the gardens at Rothdale, but it may still be cool there at this time of day. It’s just off the morning room.”
Brooke smiled and left the kitchen to find the morning room, but passing through the main hall, she saw a grand-looking lady entering the house and heard Willis say, “Duchess, always a pleasure.”
“Is my dear friend any better, Willis? She didn’t mention her health in the note I just received from her.”
“Not yet, but with Lord Wolfe’s arrival, we may soon see improvement.”
“Indeed, that should cheer Anna.” Then the lady spotted Brooke and ordered imperiously, “You there, send up a pot of tea for me to your lady’s room and do hurry.”
Brooke might be disheveled from the hours she’d spent in the kitchen, but to be mistaken for a servant was one too many insults in one day. She replied stiffly, “I’m not a servant, I’m Lady Brooke Whitworth.”
“Harriet and Thomas’s girl? Hmmph!” The lady marched toward the stairs.
Brooke swung about and headed to the back of the house, trying not to grit her teeth. Stepping out into the garden a few moments later, she took a deep breath to calm herself. The small area was filled with summer blooms that offered quite a few different scents, and several short fruit trees for a bit of shade. Stone statues of different sizes were set throughout the garden, with even an ornate fountain at the center. She could hear horses beyond the back fence and went up on tiptoe to see a long stretch of mews where horses and carriages were kept, likely shared by the block.
Heading to the fountain to sit down, she bent over to pick a rosebud, so she was quite startled when she heard Dominic say behind her, “Looking for poisonous plants?”
She straightened slowly, but her frown was immediate. “Why would you say that to me? You know I only use herbs to heal people.”
“Didn’t you try to put something quite different in my wine the other night and ended up drinking it yourself?”
She sucked in her breath. He was guessing, he
had
to be guessing, but her sudden red cheeks were probably why he added with a sensual smile, “The results were quite memorable.”
She had been far too embarrassed to say anything about the love potion and hoped he hadn’t noticed any difference in her behavior that night so she wouldn’t have to. But he didn’t appear to be displeased by what he’d guessed, quite the opposite. She still couldn’t bear to own up to it, when it smacked of desperation on her part.
So she admitted part of the truth. “Rory’s mother suggested
I seduce you, since it might well have been our last night—ever.”
He laughed. “And here I thought you actually had a potion that would send you running to my bed. Too bad.”
Was he really amused? There seemed to be some underlying tension—and he did just mention poison. “In any case, you must know—”
“No, I’d have to be a bloody idiot to believe that you would kill me before or right after the wedding. That would implicate a Whitworth. Or does he not care if you’re the one who gets hanged for it?”
She was confused. “What are you—” She paused with a gasp, guessing. “You saw Robert!”
“The devil is whom I saw,” he snarled.
“What maggot did he put in your head?”
“That you promised him you would poison me!”
She sucked in her breath before she slammed both of her palms against his chest. “And you believed him? Why would I? I aided you. You might also recall that I told you several times I don’t like him any more than you do. He did suggest that I poison you after we are married, but it was too preposterous to even merit an answer from me, much less a promise. And truthfully, I didn’t really think he was serious, though he also warned me not to like you, said it would be disloyal to my family if I did.” She snorted. “I have no loyalty to them. So don’t you dare accuse me again of something I haven’t done or would ever do. I help people. I don’t kill them. And if you are not willing to be logical about this, then I have nothing more to say to you.”
She started to walk past him in high dudgeon, but he grabbed her arm. “I didn’t believe him. But he did warn me
that you turned out more beautiful and clever than he expected and shouldn’t be trusted.”
“Because he’s a vicious, destructive person who wants to enrage you and remind you that he’s still walking around unscathed while Ella is dead because of him! I knew the vicious child, I never tried to know the man, preferred to just avoid him altogether. Maybe he hoped you would challenge him right then to another duel, leaving the Regent no choice but to punish you for it. Or he could have hoped you would bring your anger to me, which you did. Killing me would certainly stop you from trying to kill him again since you’d be in prison for it. I’m just guessing. I simply don’t know what his motives are or what he’s capable of these days.”
“He’s capable of driving young women to their death and getting away with it!” Then Dominic added, “I don’t want you giving my mother any more of your teas or magical potions.”
Good God, it felt as if they were right back where they’d started. “Too late!” she said with a furious glare. “She’s already had a full pot of my tea
and
the broth today. But don’t worry, her maid already insulted me by wanting me to drink it first!”
“That’s not a bad idea. Very well, you can give your recipes to Mr. Hibbitt, who will indeed test them first. But I think it would be better if you just stay away from my mother altogether.”
She brushed past him, tossing over her shoulder, “I think it would be better if I just stayed away from you!”
O
N HER WAY FROM
the garden to her room, Brooke stopped in the library to grab a book to occupy her for the rest of the day. She was too upset to even look at the titles first. A history of London, not bad for a blind choice, she thought when she was comfortable in her reading chair. But she couldn’t concentrate on reading when she was so upset that her relationship with Dominic was deteriorating thanks to his mother’s antipathy and her brother’s stirring up trouble between them.
As the hours passed, she got more and more downhearted because the progress she thought she had made in making him love her during those last days at Rothdale when they seemed to bond over Storm was undone. She’d been so sure more doors to his heart had opened during their journey to London, when he’d given her the most wonderful night of her life, introducing her to the most remarkable pleasures, and he’d been so sweet and protective of her. All that was undone, too. Now she was afraid Dominic was back to hating her as much as he hated Robert.
Yet she couldn’t give up. The marriage still had to happen. Besides, while the situation with the Wolfes and their servants wasn’t great, she would have a better future as Dominic’s wife than she would have if she returned to her family.
Maybe it was time to bargain with him for one of those marriages of convenience Alfreda had told her about. Or maybe a real bargain in which she gave him something he might want in exchange for—what? She gave it a lot of thought, but could only come up with one thing that would make it palatable for him and not cost him—much. At least he would believe she was serious when he heard what she would accept in return. So she was quite willing to join him for dinner when a maid showed up with the invitation.
But she was still smarting over what he had said to her today, including his pretty much accusing her of trying to poison his mother! So even though she gave him a tight smile when she entered the dining room, she asked, “Is your cook dead yet?”
He laughed. “No, but my mother is breathing easier.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You can thank me by not yelling at me anymore.”
“I don’t yell.”
“You did.”
“This is a yell!” he yelled to prove his point.
It sounded the same to her. He stood up and pulled out the chair next to him. She sat down in the chair at the opposite end of the long table. It looked as if he might rectify that, standing there a long moment debating whether to put her where he wanted her. She sighed in relief when he started to sit back down in his chair, but apparently he reconsidered and came down to her end of the table and sat in the chair to her right.
If she weren’t still so utterly disgusted with him, she might have laughed. Concessions when he’d been so cold and suspicious earlier? But she was mostly angry at her brother, for putting her back to day one with Dominic.
He was wearing a fresh shirt, minus a coat. He’d also been properly dressed as an elegant lord earlier in the day, so he obviously kept a full wardrobe of clothes at this house. Her gown was fresh, if a bit wrinkled. She could have asked one of the maids to steam it, but would probably have been ignored.
“If you’re going to continue my suggested regimen for your mother, you need to make sure she drinks at least four cups of each of the two teas.”
“You can do that. She won’t fight you anymore.”
“
You
can. Whatever you told her to change her mind about me isn’t going to really change her attitude any more than it does yours.”
“It’s not about you, it’s about lack of choice and what can be lost.”