Of the northern route, Arnold said, “If you come to woods, you’ll know you’ve gone too far.”
“The woods aren’t on Wolfe land?”
“Only partially, m’lady.”
He also cautioned her to always keep a landmark or a road within sight, so she wouldn’t get lost. She kept her grin to herself. Some men just had to treat women like children. She didn’t mind Gabriel’s uncle’s advice. She was sure he meant well. And she was too excited that woods were somewhat nearby and went in that direction. Alfreda, who loved forest and woodlands, would be pleased.
On the way back she spotted a church halfway between the manor house and the village and wondered if Dominic and she would be married there. A graveyard was behind it. She decided to stop to see if Eloise was buried there. The inscription on her marker might even indicate how she died. Brooke was curious about that since no one would say. But only the villagers were buried in the churchyard. The Wolfes had a crypt at the back of the graveyard, but the door to it was locked. So much for that.
Brooke was late getting back, so she stopped by the kitchen again and told the servants to delay the dinner she’d requested by three-quarters of an hour so she could take a bath and requested that water be heated and sent up to her room. At least there were no objections this time.
Alfreda arrived with the servants carrying the water buckets. She stayed to help Brooke undress, then laid out a frock that didn’t smell of horses while she bathed. Brooke wanted something a little more fancy and said so.
“We’re going to tempt tonight?”
“No, just hopefully look pretty.”
“You look that no matter what you wear, poppet. The yellow, then? It enhances the brightness of your green eyes.”
The gown did more than that, but Brooke didn’t blush. She’d done enough of that when her first evening gowns had been made for her earlier this year in preparation for her Season. They weren’t her first Empire fashions, but they were her first fancy gowns that didn’t include a chemisette tucked between the low neckline and her throat. The yellow gown was sleeveless and had a short ruffle that edged the entire neckline, front and back. A sprinkling of gold sequins that sparkled in the light was stitched to the ruffle.
Apart from the embarrassment she felt at her unaccustomed exposing of so much skin, Brooke found the current fashions quite comfortable. The thin, soft muslin was pulled tight beneath her breasts and flowed loosely down to her ankles. Beneath the gown she wore flesh-colored pantaloons! Brooke had laughed at the notion, but Harriet’s seamstress had explained that all fashionable women were wearing this undergarment because the Empire-style gowns should appear as if nothing were worn underneath them.
To fill in the bare expanse of skin above the gown’s low neckline, Brooke put on the necklace Alfreda had given her, an ivory cameo on a silver chain. A jewelry box had been delivered with her new wardrobe, but nothing in it was as precious to her as the cameo. It was mostly filled with inexpensive baubles of every color that matched the new gowns that Harriet had picked out for her. The only expensive items were an emerald set Brooke was to have worn to her first ball.
With her hair yet to be styled more elegantly for the evening with a lot of short ringlets around her brow and temples, Brooke said anxiously, “Hurry with my hair, please. I’m really running late for dinner with the wolf.”
“Nonsense,” Alfreda replied. “You’re going to look so beautiful he will find you worth waiting for. So stay calm and remember your plan to make him love you.”
Easier said than done, Brooke thought. But he probably wasn’t going to wait for her, had most likely sent someone to fetch his food. She hoped he’d done that. A hungry wolf wouldn’t make for a pleasant wolf—and whom was she kidding? He was never going to be pleasant with her. Not growling was the best she could hope for.
On her way out the door, she told Alfreda to hurry to the kitchen to have the food for her dinner with Dominic sent up immediately, if he didn’t already have his. She then knocked softly on his door, but didn’t wait for permission to enter since he was expecting her. It was beyond the dinner hour but not dark yet, with the sun setting so late in June, so no lamps were yet lit. Dominic appeared to be alone in the room this time.
He was still in bed, still propped up on his many pillows. But at least he was wearing a white nightshirt, though it was mostly open down his chest. And he’d combed his hair! He hadn’t been shaved, though. The stubble on the lower half of his face was darker now. But perhaps he was feeling somewhat better....
“Why the devil are you dressed like that?” he growled as she approached the bed.
Brooke was embarrassed by the way his eyes focused above the décolletage, but she didn’t pause. She might love how comfortable the current fashions were, but she would never get used to these low necklines that were so popular in London.
“I always dress like this for dinner,” she lied.
“Not with me you won’t.”
She was so pleased to hear that, she smiled. “As you wish. I can be very accommodating.” He snorted. Since he already sounded like a beast, she added, “I suppose I don’t need to ask how you are this evening? No better a’tall?”
“Hungry, that’s how I am. Twice I have been given excuses for why my dinner doesn’t sit before me. How have you managed to charm my cook?”
“I haven’t,” she replied pleasantly. “In fact it’s very obvious your staff doesn’t like me a’tall.”
“Then why are they listening to you instead of me?!” he yelled.
“Because I’m a lady, of course,” she said pointedly. “And servants don’t dare pit themselves against a noblewoman without serious consequences. It must be your fever that has made you overlook that. Besides, your trying to starve me while I’m here isn’t going to work. At least wait until you’re well enough to guard your kitchen yourself, because in the meantime, I’ll chase your cook out with a broom and prepare my own meals if I have to. So you might want to reconsider that nasty plan. Burned bread and nothing else? Really?”
His face just got redder. She ought to be angry, too, but having gotten a proper meal for lunch, she could now see a little humor in his attempt to starve her. So she tried to mollify him a little by saying, “I expect our dinner will arrive at any moment. But in the meantime...”
He was done yelling, perhaps done talking at all, so she glanced down at his wound and was relieved to be able to say, “It does look a little better, not quite so red.”
She hurried to the bathing room to mix the salve. When she returned to his bedside, he was still glaring at her. But she was surprised when he grabbed her wrist as she reached for his wound and said, “You are closest kin to the man I hate most in this world. That should terrify you. Why doesn’t it?”
