Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales #2)(20)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

One would have thought he had just promised her a unicorn or perhaps a castle of her own. She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. “You said ‘please’!”

Dominique bit back a retort. “Yes well, it was difficult for me and now I find I’m completely exhausted, so don’t expect any fancy words at dinner tonight.” Trembling, he walked away from the bed, away from the girl that threatened to destroy every wall he had fought to erect around his heart, and muttered, “Dinner will be served at eight as usual.” He paused at the door remembering Hunter’s words. Awkwardly he turned on his heel and gave a curt bow before quitting the room, all the while thinking of ways he could strangle his friend without anyone being the wiser.

Chapter Twelve

Manners? They escape my notice, for what good are manners when one lives in solitude? Now, rules, I understand. I exist on the bread of notes and the water of my piano; to practice manners for the very society that failed me seems fruitless. After all, when would I need them?

—The Diary of Dominique Maksylov

Dominique paced in front of the fireplace, no doubt ruining the rug he had placed there for Isabelle’s enjoyment. “She’s late,” he roared when Miss Ward presented herself to him.

“She is getting dressed, my lord, try to have some patience.”

He lifted an eyebrow. So now his staff was arguing with him. He opened his mouth to speak just as someone cleared their throat. He turned to see Isabelle entering. A gold dress draped off her shoulders, his mother’s diamond necklace plunging between the curves of her br**sts.

Mouth completely dry, he struggled for any sort of reaction but all he could muster was an awkward hand gesture for her to take a seat. Blushing, she curtsied and went to the far side of the table.

“My, my, what have we here? Hmm?” Hunter floated into the room, took one look at Isabelle and fell to his knees in front of her. “Oh, thy beauty is so great, it pains my eyes to look upon—”

“Hunter, if you value your life, you will refrain from finishing that sentiment.” Dominique glared.

Isabelle tilted her head, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Does that mean you will compliment me, since you’ve taken away Hunter’s privilege to do so?”

Hunter grinned cheerfully.

Miss Ward crossed her arms.

Isabelle leaned forward in expectation.

“You, um.” Curse Hunter for setting him up! “You look…agreeable.”

Miss Ward rolled her eyes and left the room. Hunter shook his head. “Perhaps while this young bird practices singing, I’ll give you a lesson in the art of seduction. Or perhaps compliments. Women do so love them. Shall I show you how it is done?”

Hunter opened his mouth. In a fit of rage, Dominique charged him but was stopped suddenly when Isabelle stood in front of him with an icy glare. “You may fight like a beast after I’ve had my dinner. Now, mind your manners, take a seat, and we are going to have a nice meal.” She turned on Hunter. “And you! Stop provoking him! It’s like living with children!”

Hunter hung his head and walked to his seat, playfully defeated.

****

Honestly! Never had she been in the presence of such immature gentleman. They actually enjoyed provoking one another. And it was driving her to Bedlam! This was the first meal she had agreed to. Looking across the table, she couldn’t quite figure out why she had been so against it in the first place.

Dominique was still cross and more often in a bad mood than a good one, but tonight he seemed different, changed in a way. And that’s when it dawned on her.

“You shaved!”

Dominique dropped his spoon; it splashed soup onto his neatly tied cravat. Hunter’s laughter echoed through the room.

“And your, that is, your hair, it’s, it’s…”

“Quite glossy, don’t you think?” Hunter interjected. “Apparently all of the Russian princes can boast of such a thick mane. I used to be envious, that is until I discovered I had the larger—”

“Fortune!” Dominique yelled as he turned bright red. “And that has yet to be proven, friend.”

Something in their tone told Isabelle it was not fortune they spoke of, but she was too focused on her husband’s beautiful face to form a question. Perfectly sculpted lips so full they looked painted. His hair, now with tighter curls, hung loosely around his eyes, dark shadows of his cheekbones poked out, drawing a perfectly symmetrical line. If she were an artist and in need of the perfect male specimen, she would have chosen Dominique, for he didn’t seem real. Her eyes must have betrayed her interest, for it wasn’t until Hunter cleared his throat the third time that she managed to look away, a burning blush heating her cheeks.

“It is agreeable,” she mumbled, dipping her spoon into the soup.

Silence met her declaration. She looked up to see Dominique’s hungry gaze. Warmth spread throughout her body, tingling her until she thought she would go mad.

“Perfect, now I’m surrounded by people who know nothing of how to give a compliment,” Hunter interrupted, looking between the two of them. The air was thick with tension. Hunter cleared his throat once more. “Great soup. I always say soup is the best course to start with, it warms the soul when the bed is empty.”

“Your bed better stay empty while you’re in residence, Wolf.” Dominique turned his eyes toward his friend and glowered.

Hunter didn’t seem the least bit bothered. “Excuse his hidden meaning, Isabelle. He’s merely trying to warn me to stay away from you, lest I find my head removed from my body in a most painful manner.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Dominique smiled.

Isabelle gasped.

Both men turned to look at her, humor dancing behind their eyes. “Something amiss, my lady?” Dominique asked, the candlelight beaming off of his erotic mouth.

“I, was just, um… Frightened!”

“Of?” he prodded.

“The…” Isabelle looked around for anything to excuse her behavior. But saints alive, without the wild hair covering his face, he looked like a fallen angel. “The dark.” She winced. “I thought I saw a shadow…”

Isabelle inwardly rolled her eyes.

Dominique narrowed his gaze, making her shift uncomfortably. And it was that same gaze that held her attention throughout the entire meal. Finally, he relented, but only when Hunter retired for the night.

“Would you like to share a glass of sherry?” Dominique’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts.