Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales #2)(56)

Isabelle’s heart warmed at the thought. Her husband, the lying little beast, had set her up to be a part of his gift, when it truly came from his heart, not her own. She stifled a gleeful laugh and turned around to face Amy, but her maid was busy pulling out the most beautiful gown Isabelle had ever seen.

Dark burgundy material flew out from an empire waist bodice. Lower than something she would have ever chosen for herself, it boasted of see-through material across the arms, floating lazily down to an open back with a black-laced train.

It was the exact dress he had picked out, not hours before. Only this time, she suspected, it would fit her perfectly.

“Do you like it?” Amy asked, her voice hinting at concern.

“No.” Isabelle giggled. “I adore it.”

Amy beamed. “Wait until you see the gloves.”

****

Dominique paced at the bottom of the stairs. What the devil was taking her so long? He had specifically sent the maid in to help her get dressed over an hour ago. Surely changing gowns and fixing one's hair didn’t take this long?

Not that he had any experience in the matter.

What with only recently deciding to cut his hair and groom himself.

With a groan, he leaned against the stairway and crossed his arms.

“Impatient?” A familiar and altogether unwelcome voice said behind him.

“Hunter,” Dominique said through clenched teeth. “Aren’t you supposed to be making the final arrangements?”

“They’ve been made, thrice, now stop whining and let me have a look at you.”

Dominique scowled and reluctantly pushed away from the railing to face his friend.

“Dominique, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so cleaned up.” Hunter’s eyes held no amusement, strictly astonishment. Dominique wasn’t sure if he should be offended or complimented.

“Are you to say that I normally look disheveled?” He fired back.

“Disheveled?”

Dominique nodded.

“Of course not.”

He exhaled.

“That would be putting it mildly, I’m afraid. In the past you’ve always looked positively rugged, like a pirate lord ready to ravish the lady and take over another ship's treasure.”

Dominique bit back a sharp retort. “And now? Do I still resemble the pirate?”

Hunter smirked. “No, I imagine a pirate will be the furthest thing from your young wife’s mind. Though, I daresay she may mistake you for a rake if you don’t get that smoldering look under control, and please direct it elsewhere. It's making me deuced uncomfortable.”

“Apologies.” Dominique felt himself flush with embarrassment.

“No need.” Hunter slapped his back. “Just be sure to direct your gaze to your wife, and do not forget to please her tonight, lest I find myself on the other end of one of your lust-filled glances again and feel the need to punch you.”

“Agreed.” Dominique cleared his throat just as his gaze swept upwards to the top of the stairs, where the most beautiful woman in the world was making her descent.

Mouth dry, Dominique continued to stare a hole straight through the woman. It was near impossible to drag his eyes away from her face. Lit with excitement, her eyes dazzled with mischief. Lush brown hair was partially held with pins, allowing silky tendrils to dance over her collarbone.

Reluctantly, he allowed his gaze to trail down her graceful neck, to the swell of her bosom as her dress, as if painted on, unapologetically clung to every feminine curve. Her skin seemed to glow, almost translucent through the thin fabric, and he could have sworn he was given glimpses of her long legs as she descended the stairs.

Pride swelled within him. She was his. That was his wife.

He looked to Hunter.

Whose mouth was also gaping open.

Dominique briefly contemplated shooting him.

But then again, he was his best friend.

“One night,” Hunter whispered. “Just give me one night and I’ll secure her affection…”

Where were the pistols? Dominique growled, and pushed Hunter toward the entrance to the dining room, all the while keeping his eyes trained on his friend for any sudden movement.

“It was merely a jest.” Hunter argued, though his voice was husky and his face flushed.

“Do you hear me laughing?”

“No,” Hunter bit out. “Though I could have sworn you growled.”

Dominique smiled. “Yes, well. Beast trumps wolf, now, leave me and my wife a few moments of peace before we join you for dinner, and if you do not cease from making eyes at her I will gouge them out.”

“Truly?” Hunter gave him a knowing look and crossed his arms.

“Fine, I won’t cause blindness, but I will be forced to wrap a blindfold around your head.”

Hunter grinned. “Just makes things more amusing in the bedroom, don’t you think?”

“Hunter…” Dominique warned. “Any more comments such as that and you will truly know what it is like to spend the night with a tavern wench. Don’t make me locate the woman that near traumatized you for life just a few days ago. And don’t you deny it, I still hear you screaming in your sleep.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would, and I will. Don’t tempt me. What did she do to you again?” Dominique had just recently heard the full story of how the woman—Hunter swore it was indeed a woman though Dominique now had his doubts—tortured him and forced him to eat from her large, hairy hands in order to sustain himself.