Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales #2)(7)

Chapter Three


In my darkest times, music has been my lover, and for that I owe music all of my devotion, for when it counted, music lifted me up, whereas women let me down.

—The Diary of Dominique Maksylov



“Where is she?” Dominique paced the creaky floorboards of the captain’s room for the hundredth time. Didn’t she know that punctuality was next to godliness? To keep him, of all people, waiting? Did she think she was the Queen?

A throat cleared.

He turned, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Oh…it’s you.” Cursing, he merely waved his friend off to the nearest seat and continued his pacing.

“Apologies. By the look on your face, I can only imagine you hoped I’d be wearing a skirt that you could later lift with those gloved hands.” Hunter Wolfbane, Royal Duke of Haverstone, smiled and took a seat, plopping his Hessians onto the chair in front of him. “I have to admit I’m used to more swooning when I enter a room.”

“Yes, but the rooms you often enter are filled with women.”

“Can’t you at least pretend to swoon?”

“No.”

“Mayhap you’ll stumble a bit? It’s so dreadfully hard on my ego when I’m not given the praise due to my infamous name.”

Dominique let out a hearty laugh. His friend was as mad as ever. “You’re nicknamed ‘the wolf’ for more than just your ability to sniff around women’s skirts at court.”

Hunter smiled. “Yes, that’s true.”

Dominique rolled his eyes. To think that the man sitting across from him was none other than the most feared spy in all of England. The smile on Hunter’s face seemed careless and simple, yet Dominique knew the horrors that his good friend had seen over the years.

It irked Dominique that the man could be at such ease when seeing pain and death all around him. But he was the best money could afford. A more trustworthy man Dominique had never come across, which is why he needed him here, now.

“By your scowl, I take it I’m not here for a social visit?” Hunter asked, dropping his feet on the planked floor and leaning forward, all traces of a smile gone. His dark features gave him the obvious look of danger when he wasn’t smiling. He stared at Dominique with his amber-colored eyes.

“Those blasted eyes could make a man confess a multitude of sins.” Dominique swore.

Hunter laughed. “Or a woman confess a night full of pleasure.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Dominique gave a hollow laugh. The idea that he’d soon have his bride in his bed to confess her pleasure passed through his mind and darkened his thoughts. “I seem to have bought myself a bride.”

“Well, leave it to you to just come out and say it. Never were one to mince words, eh, old friend? So, what do you need me to do? Kill her? Find her long lost family? Seduce her dress right off her curvaceous body and—”

“No,” Dominique said tersely. “I need you to help me… er... That is...” Blast. Why was it so difficult to ask for help? “As you know, I’m not currently in a position to… ahem.”

Hunter burst out laughing, “Devil take it! You want help with the chit! Don’t even try denying it! You’re blushing!”

“I am not—” Dominique roared and ceased his pacing at once. Desperation had made him send ahead for his good friend, but he hadn’t thought asking for help would be so blasted difficult. He just wasn’t sure how to treat a lady, and not just any lady, but one that represented so much goodness that he could hardly look into her eyes without drowning in the essence of her music. It was the first time in so many years, perhaps his entire existence that he felt at peace. She was the cause, and he could not help but think that perhaps he would be her downfall.

Dominique cleared his throat. “I figured of all my friends, you being the dearest—Cease puffing your chest before I throw you into the sea! As I was saying, you being the most honest, would be able to help me in my pursuit.”

“Of what?”

“Getting her to marry me, of course.”

Laughter was not the response he expected, though he should have. He had nothing to offer her save money, a title, and a royal lineage that could be traced back to the Czar himself.

But women didn’t want such things. After all, his mother had been given everything. And look what happened? Still, it wasn’t enough. He could offer her nothing of value, nothing that a girl with such presence could possibly crave.

She would desire children, and a warm bed filled with a man who could bring her pleasure beyond her wildest imaginations.

What pleasure could he possibly bring with hands such as his? At first glance, Isabelle would despise his deformity, and if she truly knew the reason for it, she would flee.

And no matter how dangerous having her near was… He desired her more than he’d desired anything in his entire existence. But she could never know that. No one could ever know.

“Curious.” Hunter cleared his throat. “Why would you obtain a wife in the first place? Don’t take me wrong. I’ve always been a firm believer in using the fairer sex to get through lonely cold nights, but you’ve never shared that same sentiment.”

Dominique wasn’t sure how much he wanted to reveal to his friend; then again, perhaps if he knew the reasons it would help his cause.