Chapter Twenty-Four
“IS EVERYONE ON YOUR household staff going to come in here today?” Priscilla complained when another maid she’d never before seen came into Dominic’s suite with fresh water. “Even your cook delivered our dinner. When has she ever done that?”
They were sitting at the chess table Dominic had had brought up from the parlor. Not exactly what Priscilla had thought she would be doing here today, but she was a good sport and didn’t want to tax his wound any more than he did. Priscilla and his mother were the only two people he’d played who had a chance of beating him. Gabriel knew how to play, but he didn’t have the patience for the game and usually lost deliberately just to end it.
Dominic moved his queen. “They are probably just curious about what you’re doing here when it’s been nigh a year since your last visit.”
Priscilla moved her knight into position to force his queen to retreat. “And let’s not forget the more likely reason: that they already favor your bride-to-be and think I’m stirring the pot against her.”
“This is only her fifth day here,” Dominic scoffed, although he, too, had observed that Brooke had charmed his household. It seemed as if she’d been there for weeks, not days, probably because he’d seen so much of her in so short a time.
“Or perhaps your servants worry that the Prince will soon own your estate?”
He scowled. “I’ll marry her if I have to, I just don’t want to. It’ll be a marriage made in hell, so why wouldn’t I do everything in my power to prevent it?”
“But what if it’s not? What if she’s nothing like her brother? Whatever Robert has done to deserve your wrath, no one else perceives him as any more wicked than your typical egotistical rakehell, you know. So why would you condemn your bride just because she’s sister to a man you—”
“Matchmaker isn’t a role that becomes you, Cilla.”
She laughed. “You’ll do as you will no matter what anyone says. I was merely distracting you. Checkmate.”
He laughed and stood up. She was staying the night and had even offered to sleep in his bed, promising she would be careful of his leg. He had declined the offer, but asked her to keep him company until she was ready to retire. He had hoped Brooke would join them for the meal they’d had a few hours ago. Priscilla had been lying beside him in bed and he’d had his arm around her while they talked. He’d timed it just right, too. The food arrived. But Brooke didn’t.
He went to the north window overlooking the park to watch the sunset. The house was sufficiently angled for him to be able to see part of the sunrise and the winding south road from this window, but the sunset had to spread its light widely for him to see any of it. He saw none of it tonight due to a dark bank of clouds.
“It appears to be raining in the north. It’s just as well you didn’t try to get home before dark.”
Priscilla joined him at the window. “That looks nasty.”
“It will likely blow over before you depart in the morning.”
“I don’t mind traveling in the rain, only in the dark. And the wind appears to be blowing north. That might not even reach us.” She glanced down. “Should you be putting pressure on that leg?”
“Only when Gabe isn’t in the room. Damned mother hen, he is. It doesn’t hurt, Cilla. And Dr. Bates doubled up on the stitches after the first set broke.”
“It really doesn’t hurt?” She smiled intimately, placing her hand suggestively on his upper thigh that wasn’t wounded.
He chuckled, guessing the direction of her thoughts. “I only got rid of the fever two days ago. The wound is merely numb, probably from that witchy paste the girl puts on it.”
“You should have married me when you had the chance, darling, then you wouldn’t be in this pickle.”
That wouldn’t have prevented the duels. Whitworth still had to pay for what he’d done. Dominic couldn’t share that with Priscilla. She loved gossip too much and couldn’t be trusted not to spread the reason for Ella’s death far and wide.
However, without that knowledge, she seemed to find his predicament funny. But then she’d also said that she liked the girl’s spunk. Women. There was no accounting for taste or their vagaries.
The door suddenly burst open and Gabriel said, “Something has happened to Lady Whitworth. She hasn’t returned from her ride.”
Dominic started to smile. “Hasn’t she?” But then he turned and saw Gabriel’s worried expression. “How long has she been gone?”
“It’s been at least three hours now. She didn’t come back for her dinner.”
Then she’d actually left of her own accord. Dominic was surprised. He didn’t think his flaunting his mistress in front of Brooke would work, but maybe that, coupled with his anger, had finally chased her away. “That’s good news.”
“No, it’s not. Her maid is frantic. She swears her lady wouldn’t leave without her, and I agree. She wouldn’t leave on horseback either. Something’s happened to her. And it will soon be dark.”
All relief fled. “Andrew!” Dominic bellowed. “Bring me trousers that haven’t been butchered and my greatcoat for the rain.”
“You can’t go out,” Gabriel protested.
“Of course I can. If she dies on the moors, the Prince will think I killed her. I assume someone has already checked the village?”
“That was the first place we looked.”
“Go have Royal saddled.”
“Dom, please, you can’t ride again this soon. I just wanted permission to round up all the men to start searching for her.”
“You can do that as well, but there’s not many of them with mounts who can search far, and we don’t have enough saddles to use my horses. And she’s my responsibility. I could wish it was otherwise, but that fact stands. So don’t argue with me.”
As soon as Gabriel rushed out of the room, Priscilla said drily, “I suppose I’ll find a bottle of brandy to take to bed with me.”
“You aren’t worried about her?”
“Why would I be? I’m sure you’ll find her. She probably just rode into the rain and has found shelter from it.”
“Possibly.”
Wolf followed him out of the room. Dominic entered Brooke’s room first to grab something of hers for the dog to smell. Her room was nearly Spartan though, as if she hadn’t unpacked—or she’d taken what she wanted with her today. It was still possible that she wasn’t lost but fleeing. It would be much more difficult to find someone who didn’t want to be found.
Downstairs, his cook was waiting for him and thrust a sack of food at him. “She hasn’t eaten” was all she said.
Marsha’s worry was evident. So was Arnold’s. At the stable, the elderly groom thrust another sack of supplies at him and attached two lanterns to Royal’s saddle before he handed off the reins to Dominic.
He heard someone yelling and glanced toward the house. Brooke’s maid was running toward him, and Gabriel was trying to stop her. But she shook her arm loose from Gabe and ran forward to demand of Dominic, “What did you do to upset her today? She never takes long rides unless she’s upset!”
He didn’t have time for this and didn’t even address Alfreda. “Take her back to the house,” he said to Gabriel before leaving them there.
Dominic rode around behind the pastures before he dismounted to let Wolf smell the ribbons he’d taken from Brooke’s vanity. “Find her,” he told the dog. He’d taken Wolf hunting enough times to know he could depend on him to catch Brook’s scent.
Wolf sniffed around only briefly before taking off in the direction in which Arnold had said Brooke rode off.
Although it was still dusk, he lit one of the lanterns before the rain reached him. Not far to the north, he could see the heavy deluge, which looked like a solid gray curtain hiding the land in the distance from him. Wolf charged toward it without a care. Dominic pulled up. Was he really going to ride into that? For her?
He spurred his stallion forward, thinking now he had another reason to dislike Brooke Whitworth.