needle better. Your wound is going to leave a jagged scar. We could make it much neater.”
“You or her?”
“Me, m’lord.”
“Then say ‘me,’ damnit.”
Alfreda stiffened and stood back. “I am not your maid, I am hers. Do not presume—”
“You truly wish to butt heads with me?” Dominic cut in darkly.
“I am not butting heads, merely stating a fact,” Alfreda insisted.
“Careful, wench. If this marriage occurs, I will be the one paying your wage.”
“You are welcome to, but it isn’t necessary. Lady Whitworth is dear to me. I will serve her with or without a wage.”
Alfreda was annoying him more and more with every word she said. Brooke could tell from his increasingly feral expression. Finally he growled, “I think you should stay out of my sight.”
Alfreda was quick to make that happen. Brooke was speechless as she watched her dearest friend leave the room. When Brooke looked back at the ungrateful wretch in the bed, her light green eyes blazed with anger. “That was very ungracious of you, Lord Wolfe, considering she was only here to help you at my request.”
“Do I look miraculously healed by either of you?” he shot back.
“You look like a beast determined to be a nasty churl. She can fix you. You would mend quicker—more’s the pity!”
Brooke marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The satisfying sound did nothing to quiet her rage.
Chapter Fifteen
O UT OF SIGHT, OUT of mind. How Brooke wished that were true! But Dominic Wolfe had used a single word that had eased some of her rage before she got to her room. If. He’d said, If this marriage occurs . . . Was there still a possibility that he might do something to keep it from happening?
She found Alfreda collapsed in one of the reading chairs. The maid looked tired. She wasn’t any more used to nasty confrontations such as that than Brooke was.
Collapsing on the bed herself, leaving her lower legs to dangle over the side, she said, “He’s intolerable. We need to consider other options.”
“I wasn’t expecting him to be so handsome,” Alfreda remarked.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, it does sort of make him tolerable, I would think, at least in your eyes.”
Brooke snorted.
“Or not. But we don’t know what he is really like yet. A man in pain is never at his best.”
Brooke was good at reading people, but the only thing she got out of the wolf was that he was despicable. “He’s not going to have a ‘best.’ ”
“Then you should wait to make sure of that. And what other options have we?”
Brooke was precariously close to tears. “I don’t know! There must be something—other than poisoning him as my brother wants me to do.”
“If we leave here, we won’t be able to go home.”
“I know.”
“They will just drag you back here.”
“I know!” And probably beat her, too. She wasn’t old enough for her “no” to matter at the altar if her parents were saying “yes.”
A long moment passed before Alfreda said determinedly, “Then we go somewhere else.”
Brooke latched on to that kernel of hope. “I speak fluent French.”
“We are at war with those people. We can’t go there. They’ll think we are spies and hang us.”
“Scotland isn’t far from here.”
“Exactly—it’s too close. We’d be found easily there.”
“We can catch a ship then. The coast can’t be too far from here.”
“A day or two, but did your mother give you enough money for a long voyage? And to survive wherever we end up long enough to figure out how to earn more money to live on?”
Brooke figured she had enough for passage, maybe, but not enough to survive on for long. The tears got closer.
But then Alfreda added, “Or we can sneak back to Leicestershire and fetch my money from the forest.”
Brooke let out a near-hysterical laugh. “You buried it?”
“Of course I did. I suspected we might not stay here. And even if we did, I suspected you
“You or her?”
“Me, m’lord.”
“Then say ‘me,’ damnit.”
Alfreda stiffened and stood back. “I am not your maid, I am hers. Do not presume—”
“You truly wish to butt heads with me?” Dominic cut in darkly.
“I am not butting heads, merely stating a fact,” Alfreda insisted.
“Careful, wench. If this marriage occurs, I will be the one paying your wage.”
“You are welcome to, but it isn’t necessary. Lady Whitworth is dear to me. I will serve her with or without a wage.”
Alfreda was annoying him more and more with every word she said. Brooke could tell from his increasingly feral expression. Finally he growled, “I think you should stay out of my sight.”
Alfreda was quick to make that happen. Brooke was speechless as she watched her dearest friend leave the room. When Brooke looked back at the ungrateful wretch in the bed, her light green eyes blazed with anger. “That was very ungracious of you, Lord Wolfe, considering she was only here to help you at my request.”
“Do I look miraculously healed by either of you?” he shot back.
“You look like a beast determined to be a nasty churl. She can fix you. You would mend quicker—more’s the pity!”
Brooke marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The satisfying sound did nothing to quiet her rage.
Chapter Fifteen
O UT OF SIGHT, OUT of mind. How Brooke wished that were true! But Dominic Wolfe had used a single word that had eased some of her rage before she got to her room. If. He’d said, If this marriage occurs . . . Was there still a possibility that he might do something to keep it from happening?
She found Alfreda collapsed in one of the reading chairs. The maid looked tired. She wasn’t any more used to nasty confrontations such as that than Brooke was.
Collapsing on the bed herself, leaving her lower legs to dangle over the side, she said, “He’s intolerable. We need to consider other options.”
“I wasn’t expecting him to be so handsome,” Alfreda remarked.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, it does sort of make him tolerable, I would think, at least in your eyes.”
Brooke snorted.
“Or not. But we don’t know what he is really like yet. A man in pain is never at his best.”
Brooke was good at reading people, but the only thing she got out of the wolf was that he was despicable. “He’s not going to have a ‘best.’ ”
“Then you should wait to make sure of that. And what other options have we?”
Brooke was precariously close to tears. “I don’t know! There must be something—other than poisoning him as my brother wants me to do.”
“If we leave here, we won’t be able to go home.”
“I know.”
“They will just drag you back here.”
“I know!” And probably beat her, too. She wasn’t old enough for her “no” to matter at the altar if her parents were saying “yes.”
A long moment passed before Alfreda said determinedly, “Then we go somewhere else.”
Brooke latched on to that kernel of hope. “I speak fluent French.”
“We are at war with those people. We can’t go there. They’ll think we are spies and hang us.”
“Scotland isn’t far from here.”
“Exactly—it’s too close. We’d be found easily there.”
“We can catch a ship then. The coast can’t be too far from here.”
“A day or two, but did your mother give you enough money for a long voyage? And to survive wherever we end up long enough to figure out how to earn more money to live on?”
Brooke figured she had enough for passage, maybe, but not enough to survive on for long. The tears got closer.
But then Alfreda added, “Or we can sneak back to Leicestershire and fetch my money from the forest.”
Brooke let out a near-hysterical laugh. “You buried it?”
“Of course I did. I suspected we might not stay here. And even if we did, I suspected you
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