ROMANTIC VENTURE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Moonlit shadows fell over the house and grounds as Maurette and Dominic rode up, though the creeping fingers of dawn were not far distant. They dismounted and moved up the walkway to the front entrance.

"I will see to the horses later," Dominic said as he led Maurette up the path.

"Will you awaken the master at this early hour?" Maurette said, hoping for a postponement of what she envisioned to be a frightful scene. She could bolt and run at any time, but she knew that he would simply catch her again. A postponement would give her time to think, however, and time was what she needed now. She must find a way to best Dominic Warbrooke that did not involve physical strength. She must use cunning. She decided to keep to her disguise for as long as he could.

She moved with Dominic in the lead to the main hall and, to her surprise, he led her up the grand staircase.

"Where are you taking me?" she inquired faintly.

He said nothing but turned toward her once they were in the main gallery and held his arm out in invitation. Maurette could not imagine what he was about. Where did he want her to go? Obviously, he wanted her to lead the way.

But how could she, as Dan, do so? She moved in front of him. Dancing torchlight shadows illuminated his handsome face. He was not smiling, but a certain air of amusement lit his eyes. Maurette moved carefully before him.

"Are you taking me to see the master of the house?" she asked.

"I am taking you to the Lady Maurette's chamber." Dominic's eyes were hooded. Once again, Maurette wondered at the flicker of amusement that lingered deep within their gray depths. She could not imagine what he planned. Perhaps her father waited in her chamber. She knew that she was trapped, for the moment at least, and with soundless resignation, she moved forward to her own room. She pushed aside the big door and entered. Dominic followed. A low fire lit the room with rose-colored shadows, and candles flickered on the mantel. The cavernous chamber was empty. Maurette turned toward Dominic as he shut and barred the great wooden door. To her amazement, he was laughing softly. Keeping her eyes to the floor, she inquired as to the source of his mirth.

"I apologize, dear lady, but you have given yourself away at every turn," he said genially.

Maurette looked up in shock. "You say, 'dear lady'?"

"I do," stated Dominic.

"How-"

"I knew it from the first, little one. Your attempts at subterfuge have been woefully lacking in every way."

Maurette regarded him patiently while his laughter subsided. "Have they?" she said levelly.

He nodded. "Your lingering fatigue gave me concern until I thought about the idea of the robust Lady Maurette being laid low by an excursion to the city. Your flight was no surprise to me. "'Twas also not difficult to imagine you fleeing to Islington. As to that pretty story you told, I am well aware that the Lady Maurette would never 'forget about' her beloved horse. Beyond that, those charming breeches, which I have cause to remember, and your sweet form and face alone are enough to identify you to the less than casual observer."

Dominic shifted from one foot to the other waiting for Maurette to say something. When she made no attempt to reply, he continued. "Think, too, of this past moment when you walked directly to this chamber, having naturally, never been here-I would assume-unless the little lady has been hiding a dalliance with a farm lad." He leaned back against the door. "Oh, Maurette, intrigue is by no means your forte. In the future leave that to spies and wharf rats, little one."

Maurette seethed inwardly. The lout had unabashedly debased all her well-thought efforts to maintain her dignity and her freedom, to say nothing of her virtue. Maurette desperation knew no bounds. She was certain now that the battle between them must come to but one conclusion. There could be no conciliation and no negotiation.

idea was forming in Maurette's mind. The brute lusted after her, she knew. Why not play to that fact? She had nothing to lose, now that he was on to her disguise. And if she must give up her virtue, at least it would not be relinquished without a fight. But she had a plan. Her virginity would not be lost this night.

"A farm lad, you say?" Maurette drawled. She slowly began to unwrap her hair. Tantalizing tendrils fell seductively as she loosed the pins, and Dominic gazed with delight at the vision unfolding before him. She unlaced her shirt and languorously drew it over her head. Her breeches were next. She teased the garment down over the pale ivory lawn of her undergarment. A delicate layer of thin cloth was the only thing between Dominic and the sweet form that was Maurette. She smiled enigmatically.

"Shall I remove the rest, Lord Warbrooke?" she murmured breathlessly.

" 'Twould oblige me perfectly my lady," he said lazily. Maurette slanted her gaze. She had the hulking oaf in a perfect mood of complacency. He really expected, she thought furiously, a submissive surrender. She twirled slowly and in doing so spotted the tools on the hearth. No one knew that she was in the house. In truth, she could kill the unholy ass or at least render him unconscious for a time and then complete her escape. She would take Durham this time if that beast, with his unnatural affinity for his master, would go with her She would take him and lead him far into the countryside and tether him to a tree. Dominic would, in his affection for the loutish animal, forget his delusion of grandeur where she was concerned and search out the steed. That would borrow her some time. She must act swiftly, however, and not give herself time to think on the terrible deed she was about to perpetrate. She smiled a coquettish simper in the direction of her victim.

"I am shy," she murmured. "Could you bank the fire, sir, and extinguish the candle flames before I expose myself further?"

Dominic moved, as if in a daze, to the hearth. He snuffled out the candles and then knelt on one knee to cover the flames with ashes. Maurette sidled toward him. She held her hands behind her back and turned her body so that it would face him and, hopefully, distract him while she grasped one of the sharp and heavy iron instruments that stood at the side of the stone aperture.

The problem was, of course, that Dominic now held a long stout poker. Even without that he was, Maurette well knew, superior to her in physical strength. Her only hope was the element of surprise. She must play out her charade to the last possible moment, for there was no question that her first blow would be her only blow. The success or failure of her effort depended upon that one attempt; there would be no second chance. And the blow must cause him to instantly lose consciousness.

She looked down now upon his silver-raven head bent low over the fire. His taut jaw gleamed in the wavering flicker of the dying fire. His muscled shoulders and back tugged at the confining restraint of his shirt. Maurette prayed that she would not kill him; she wanted to render him unconscious. But if she did by chance kill him, she knew she had the perfect vindication-he had come into her chamber and tried to rape her. That defense would never stand up in a court of law, she knew, but her cause would surely sway public sympathy; a lady defending her virtue was acting in self-defense.

Still, she reflected dispassionately, 'twas, in truth, a sad circumstance to have to bring down this magnificent specimen of God's creative power. Remembering that it was Warbrooke's intent to bring her down, however, strengthened Maurette's resolve.

She gazed into his passion-hardened gray eyes as he stood to face her. Her own eyes flared with the determination that she felt. Their brilliance in the darkened room could be seen to reflect an avid anticipation of ecstasy.

"Thank you, my lord," she breathed. "Shall we away to the raptures of my bed?" She had taken a sturdy weapon into her hands. She held it tightly behind her back, girding herself for the moment when his attention would be diverted. Perhaps he would lean down to unlace his breeches. Perhaps he would sit on a low stool to remove his boots. Maurette knew that she must be ready to strike at any moment. She must be swift and precise. She watched him keenly. "Will you divest yourself of your clothing, my lord?" she purred. He gazed down upon her. Again, in his eyes, she found that odd mixture of sadness and desire.

"Do you truly want to do this, Maurette?" he said with deep tenderness.

His gentle tone gave her pause. She knew a final moment of reticence before lifting her chin with defiant resolve. She curved her soft lips into a sweet smile. "I do, my lord," she said and closed her eyes.

In that split second, she was jerked ungently forward and twisted so that her back was to him. He held her slender wrists in a viselike grip until her weapon clattered to the floor. He released her and swung her around to face him. "Did you think I was fooled by that sudden change of aspect?" he growled. "Again your trifling attempt at subterfuge was gained you naught. Give up these impotent ventures and face the truth. You will honor your contract to me whether you approve the conditions or not. I have proved myself the stronger time and again."

Maurette's eyes widened with the rage she felt. She looked down at the iron poker between them and then lunged to retrieve it, but he was too quick for her.

With a deliberateness that both startled and horrified her, the back of a large bronze hand connected soundly with her cheek and sent her sprawling to the floor. She attempted to spring to her feet, but he advanced, and gathering her in his strong arms, he conveyed her to the bed. There he threw her into its thick softness. She was instantly up. In one swift motion, he was upon her. The hard lean length of him pinned her to the bed. She struck out at him, her sharp nails attempting to rake his flesh. He grasp her wrists and pulled them over her head to hold her there, helpless and writhing against the force of his ravening, virile power.

Angry tears popped into her great eyes as she realized her total defenselessness against his brutal strength. Her breath came raggedly. She twisted her head from side to side to avoid the triumph that she knew she would find in his steely eyes.

"Please, please . . ." she cried desperately. "Please."

"Please what?" he grated. "You would have killed me, had I given you the chance."

"No," she sobbed. "No, I meant only to hurt you. I would not have killed you, Dominic. I only wanted to render you unconscious so that I could escape."

"Indeed," he growled "But if in the attempt you had slain me, your virginal heart would not have broken." He held her viselike beneath his searing anger. "Admit it," he rasped through clenched teeth.

Maurette felt all the agony of the past few days fill her heart. In her helplessness, she saw the impossibility of what she had tried to do. Her tears flowed freely now. They moistened the thick lashes that shadowed her woe-filled eyes as she gazed up into his.

"I admit it," she whimpered softly. "I admit that I could have killed you, Dominic. You' threatened me and 'courted me. You intimidated and seduced me. My mind was a-jumble with your mercurial aspect. I did not know what to do in my bewilderment." Her voice had become stronger. She breathed heavily, and her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her chemise. "You speak to me of your own feelings-of the 'sting' of your confusion. What of me, Dominic? Misery has companioned me since the night we met. Yes, I could have killed you, Dominic," she gasped. "I love you."

Dominic stared down at her He could not contain his own confusion. His anger had left, and there was, in its place, only tender sympathy for this beautiful creature whom he now held trapped beneath his weight.

"You love me," he said raptly. "And you could have killed me."

"You rejected my love," she said with aching simplicity.

Dominic raised himself, supporting his body with one muscled arm. He loosed his steely grip on Maurette's delicate wrists. "Do you believe that, 'little one'?"

Maurette nodded her head. "You do not want my love," she whispered. "You told me not to love you."

Dominic finally freed Maurette from his powerful constraint and stood slowly. She rubbed feeling back into her wrists as she watched him pace the length of the room and back again.

Finally, he turned to face her. Only a breath of firelight remained to glint in his silvered gaze. "I could have taken you tonight, Maurette. I could have, spread you and speared your delicate flesh as easily as I would spear a tender game bird. Why did I not?" he asked gently. "Yes, I perceived that you were failing in love with me. I have had women enough, in my time, to know when the little arrows of that devilish cherub have pierced their resistance."

He saw Maurette's ire begin to rise, even as she began to rise from the bed, and held out his hand.

"Contain your wrath, sweet, for but a moment." He allowed a small smile to cross his lips. She was ferocious little chit, he thought fondly, as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I have, in truth, had many women," he went on in a rush. "And, in my fashion, I have loved them all. But the moment I perceive an eagerness that would find me on the marriage block, I turn tail and run. I have made no pretense at wanting a wife, Maurette.

"A man is free until his spirit is invaded by the adoration of a woman. Her devotion shackles him to her demands. Feeling this, I could not offer you marriage. And, ultimately, that is what a woman of your fine' breeding would demand and have a right to expect.

"'Twould seem a perversity to say it, Maurette, but your sweet resistance was the only thing that protected you from me. And now you tell me that you love me." He lowered his eyes'. "And you say that I do not want your love. What man, Maurette, would refuse such a priceless treasure?" He looked up and moved so that he stood directly over her. His voice was gentle. "I would be a fool to refuse it. And yet I know myself. I would not hurt you for the world. And yet I have." He took her small face into his hands and lifted it to his own, raising her so that his lips hovered directly above hers.

"What shall I do with you," he murmured, brushing her lips with his. "What shall I do with your beauty and your passion and your love? I know that I shall never take you by force, Maurette. You have my vow. I shall wait until you come to me. When that happens, I shall savor your sweet gifts with every ounce of gratitude in my body. Dare I say it?" His lips were so close to hers that she could feel the gentle moistness of his breath. "I do love you, Maurette, as I have loved no other woman in my life. And yet. . ." He turned away from her. "I cannot, even at this tender moment, promise you marriage."

Maurette placed a small white hand on his broad back. "I know what I must do, Dominic," she murmured. "I must live this next year for its own sake. I must ask nothing of you and expect nothing. And," she added with throbbing poignancy, "I must forgive myself for not asking more of you." Her heavy silken lashes fanned over her cheeks as she lowered her eyes.

Dominic turned and raised her chin. He would never forgive himself for bringing the fiery Maurette to this ignoble circumstance. Though he wanted more than anything to fill her life with joy and comfort, he recognized his own great flaw-the instability of his emotional character. He knew that, if he allowed this to be the beginning for them or, in truth, the end, he might turn her love to hatred forever as he almost had this night.

"You must have time to think on this, Maurette," he said finally. "Though I would have it that I would sweep you into my arms and into my life, I shall not. I am going to leave you for a time. I have further business here in London, and I would attend to it. I know that your family will soon be traveling to Islington for its summer sojourn. 'Tis there that you must think on this. 'Tis there you will decide our fate. I shall come to you at summer's end. Whatever you have decided, I will accept it. No dishonor will stain your decision, and I shall not use my damnable strength against you." He smiled in self-deprecation. "I do want your love, Maurette," he continued, "but I want it unqualified. If in August you deem it so, we shall sign our pre-marriage contract and begin a life together for one year. What happens beyond that, we cannot know."

Maurette lifted her white arms and entwined them around his neck They held each other in a long, luxurious kiss. The vital flame of their rapture transcended the dark chamber, and they were in a starry other world of twilight bliss and yielding desire. When they finally parted, Dominic swept his cloak over his big shoulders. Without words, for there were none to say, he quickly left.

Maurette went to the window and gazed out into the star-shattered night. She did not know what she would decide in the next months. Dominic was right, she realized. She must have time to think on whether she could forgive herself for not expecting more of him. Could she love him knowing that one short year might be all they would have together? She hugged herself against the chill of the night and felt the warmth of Dominic's last embrace still on her.

She listened as the sound of the clopping of the horse's hooves in the courtyard receded and told her that Dominic was gone.