Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales #2)(10)

“It’s better this way,” Dominique growled. “This way I know exactly where you stand. Far, far away from myself, on the opposite end of what I could never hope to deserve or earn. Truly, if you were kind to me I may just have to like you, and as it so happens, we aren’t in any danger of that happening—not now, not ever.”

The man's mood swings were making her just as ill as the rocking boat. Shaking her head, she could only look at his stone cold face, the same face that minutes ago held compassion and tenderness. He either needed to visit Bedlam, or he truly was the type of man that would stop at nothing to push those away from him. Including her.

“I say, are you all right?” Hunter came up behind them. “Miss Ward says you should return to your room for a spell.”

“No!” she blurted. “I mean, that is, may I stay out on the deck for a while? I’m not used to being in such close quarters.”

Hunter studied her for a minute. “As long as you promise not to throw yourself overboard. I’m a dreadful swimmer and this one over here—” he pointed at Dominique— “would surely drown with all that facial hair.”

Dominique’s answer was to glare, but he didn’t deny the truth.

Hunter was obviously trying to cheer her up, but the man was just as much a devil as Dominique was. Only more cunning in the way he minced words. Almost as if he was waiting for the right time for her weakness to consume her, before he devoured her. But then again, that could just be the sickness and imagination playing tricks on her.

“I’ll try to restrain myself from such a calming idea,” Isabelle retorted, then walked away from both men.

****

“Well, I believe that went swimmingly.” Hunter clapped his hands together then pulled a cheroot out of his jacket and lit it. The winter air was crisp which was exactly what Dominique needed if his blood was to cool from being in such close proximity to Isabelle.

Her soft body smelled of lavender, and he found himself more than once breathing in the scent of her hair as he held her close to his body. For a moment he had forgotten who he was; his concern for her muddied his thoughts. That was until she stiffened beneath his touch.

How could he forget? He was the beast, and would always be such.

“Yes, well, I don’t believe I’ll be able to obtain her matrimonial yes on a night such as this.”

Hunter shook his head. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What the devil are you talking about? She’s ill! Even if she were healthy she still wouldn't be in agreeable mood.”

His friend blew out a puff of smoke. “She doesn’t have to be agreeable, she just has to agree, correct?”

“She’ll agree. I own her.” Dominique reminded him.

“Yes, but it seems to me she needs a little coaxing or reminding of that simple fact. She’s strutting all over the deck like a peacock, perhaps she should be reminded why they call you the beast, and me the wolf?”

The last thing he wanted to do was threaten her, but he wasn’t the most dangerous man in the vicinity. They could easily protect her between the two of them, but he would feel better if she was staying with him in the captain’s quarters rather than on an entirely different part of the ship. And although he owned her, he still couldn’t bring himself to completely ruin her further by forcing her to share a bed with him overnight in such a small area without first saying the vows.

And ship captains could perform ceremonies.

There would be no reason to wait.

Making his decision, he turned toward his friend. “How do we go about it?”

“Simple.” Hunter shrugged. “Make her believe there can be an unhappy ending to this little fairy tale.”

“Make her believe the nightmare,” Dominique finished.

“Precisely, where men beat women, and women obey. We both know you wouldn’t raise a hand to her, but she doesn’t know that, nor does she know what secrets you hide, or the rage within you, or that you feel guilty when you accidently step on an ant. All she needs to know is that you’d be upset with her if she gave you reason to think she would not accept in front of the captain.”

When Dominique didn’t respond, Hunter continued, “You hired me for a reason. I can be your greatest ally or strongest enemy. I’m good at reading people. She’s scared. She’s trying to provoke you and see how far she can push you. In order to provide her the protection of your name as well as your bed—you must give her a true reason to fear the Beast. If you cannot do it, I will.”

“Fine.” Dominique bit out. “And if she never forgives me?”

“Then you’ve kept your feelings and your heart intact, then you wouldn’t have throw yourself over a cliff for some simpering female. And we both know how disgusted you would be with yourself if you actually became vulnerable to the one person who had the power to break you with a single word or look.”

Dominique felt uneasy about how well his friend knew him and how well he read Isabelle. Part of him knew that behind all of Hunter's cross words lay a hidden agenda, a purpose. Nothing Hunter did was without reason. He was the most brilliant man Dominique knew and had constantly badgered him about getting a wife and writing music that didn’t provoke people to fall on their own swords.

The idea that he was now opposing the notion with such vehemence meant that he was likely using Dominique’s greatest fears against him in order to get him to marry the girl quickly.