“Understand this.” Dominique grabbed her arms, pulling her flush against his body, and kissed her forehead. “You are perfection, but beauty and beast do not mix, they do not pair. The beast will eventually devour your beauty, and I refuse to let that happen. Now run along to bed.”
Despite the throbbing in her foot, Isabelle felt numb. Nodding her head, she limped back to her rooms, but felt nothing at all, not even the pain in her foot. Sleep wouldn’t come, so she changed into her riding habit and went down to the stables.
Hunter was already there, readying his horse.
“Take me with you?” Isabelle asked in a small voice.
Hunter cursed. “What did he do?”
“Nothing.” Isabelle began crying all over again. “He’s—he’s giving me up!”
“To Napoleon?” Hunter asked with eyebrows lifted and an amused grin plastered across his handsome face.
Stupid man! Why did he have to jest at such a time! “No, you idiot! He’s sending me back home! And we, that is to say, I mean, last night...”
“Blast! Did he…” Hunter's face turned a bright red as he cursed and kicked the cold ground with his boot. “Let me speak to him, just, please wait before you do anything…irresponsible.”
Isabelle nodded and patted the horse already saddled and grazing near her.
Chapter Twenty-one
I shouldn’t drink. The music always blurs when I numb my mind with brandy. I promised myself I would never be the type to drink over a woman. Lovely, proving one’s theory so horribly wrong.
—The Diary of Dominique Maksylov
“I am not your nurse maid!” Hunter yelled, pushing the door open to the practice room where Dominique had fallen asleep the night before.
“And aren’t we all so grateful that you aren’t.” Dominique yawned. “What the devil are you doing up at this ungodly hour? There are no tavern wenches, nor do I see any French soldiers within my vicinity. Can you perhaps bellow elsewhere? My head aches.”
“Does that hard head of yours remember any conversations from last night? Or have you chosen to forget that you told your wife you no longer needed her?” Hunter paced in front of Dominique, slapping his leather gloves against his thigh.
Dominique winced. “I did nothing of the sort. I merely explained that I didn’t want her to feel trapped. I want her to choose to be with me, not be here because she is married to me or feels there is no other option. I stole that choice from her; yes, I protected her from danger. But I’m sure things have righted themselves within her family.”
“Interesting,” Hunter murmured, pausing in his stomping.
“What?”
“Your stupidity. Such a horrid case of it that I’m more amazed than appalled.” Hunter cursed and took a seat opposite Dominique. “When a woman is told she should scurry on home, she takes it literally. She thinks you do not want her.”
“I slept with her last night, she knows I want her.” If her screams and womanly sighs were any indication, she enjoyed herself as well as he did.
“There it is!” Hunter said sarcastically.
“There what is?”
“The stupidity. It was speaking again. Furthermore—” Hunter leaned forward, “when a man sleeps with a woman he does not follow the deed by telling her he no longer wants her to live with him. Sends the wrong signals, if you get my meaning.”
“I am helping her!”
“You are a fool if you think that is what you are accomplishing. Now run off and grovel, get down on your hands and knees, confess your stupidity, then take your woman to the bedroom and pleasure her again and again until she forgets the stupidity that briefly took over your body.”
Devil take it, Hunter would have been a good general.
“So the final words you leave me with are pleasure her? Sounds frighteningly normal.” Dominique rose to his full height. “For what it’s worth, Hunter, I do apologize for last night. You are truly the best friend a man could ask for.”
“Yes, yes, I know. Now go find the girl.”
“My lord?” Cuppins limped into the room. “I’m sorry to disturb that lovely speech on your intelligence—”
Hunter gave a hearty laugh.
Dominique scowled. “Yes?”
Cuppins clenched his hands and shook his head. “This just came for you. I imagine it is information regarding the French. The fighting has been getting closer and closer and although I find us to be quite safe, I think you better read it.”
“Why, when you already have?” Dominique lifted an eyebrow toward his old, retired butler.
“It isn’t safe for the lady to go riding alone anymore. The letter says the area is littered with French soldiers and she’s as English as they come.”
“Right, well, good thing I was just on my way to break fast to see her.”
Hunter paled and grabbed Dominique by the arm. “She isn’t breaking her fast.”
“Of course she is. Isn’t that where you two had your intimate chat?”
Hunter cursed and ran for the door. “She was dressed for riding and at the stables. I told her to wait, but...”
Dominique stopped listening when he heard stables. Fear pricked at his heart. If he lost her, he would die.
Chapter Twenty-two
Helplessness is the worst feeling imaginable. It is akin to swimming through the dark waters of the ocean not knowing which way will give you air and which way will be your death. Most of my regrets are directly related to helplessness. I was helpless to save my mother, my father, my teacher, and in the end myself. Perhaps that is why when the music calls to me, when it says there is danger, I heed the call regardless of the repercussions for I refuse to allow myself to feel helpless again.
—The Diary of Dominique Maksylov
The air was too quiet, eerie almost. After waiting five minutes, Isabelle decided to take the horse that Hunter had already saddled. After all, she was only going to for a quick ride to clear her head, and she couldn’t imagine him being with Dominique for any less than an hour. She looked down at her skirts, obviously she was properly attired, but the saddle wasn’t what she was accustomed to. She looked back in the direction Hunter had left and exhaled, her breath dancing in front of her face. The horse neighed, decision made, she managed to sit across the horse and gain her balance.
The horse was weighed down by some of Hunter's belongings but she didn’t care. She had no desire to run, merely to wander to the clearing that Dominique had shown her. The only problem was, she couldn’t remember the way. After the thunderstorm last night it had rained, melting the snow into tiny icicles that froze over all the trees.