Dominic's Nemesis (18 page)

“Eden?”

“Hmmm…” She answered, passion-dazed.

“Where did these bruises come from?” Dominic
pulled out of her reach, walked around to face her and get a better
look at them.

Incandescent hazel eyes blinked, confused,
shifting around in restless search of him. His form remained
cloaked.

“The entity from the other night made them.”
She aimed her voice in his general direction.

“There was no one. I would have seen a second
essence when I approached you.”

She shook her head vehement. “For some
reason, I have yet to work out, you cannot sense it. I can. It
attacked me.”

Dom recoiled from her words. They were
damning evidence of her declining mental state. He tried to steady
his shaking hands, glad that she could not see the horror on his
face. He reached out and touched the damaged skin at her
throat.

“Eden, please.” The entreaty surfaced from a
deep grave of fears, long buried but never forgotten. “I want you
to meet my brother, Cael. He will visit the estate before the week
is out, and I would like you to speak with him.”

“The other doctor?”

“Yes, Cael is a doctor for the mind.”

“Why is it imperative that
I
meet
him?” She asked. Stark pain swam in her eyes.

“I fear you are not well, and I—”

“—don
’
t want to become involved with a lunatic?” She
finished the sentence for him.

He winched at her candor, and retracted his
hand as if bitten. A knock at the door saved them both from an
awkward moment. Eden immediately tugged her sagging bodice up to
cover her breasts.

“That
’
s just Nell with breakfast.” He informed her.

She stared from his invisible form to the
closed chamber door, with an awe-struck expression. “You can see
through walls when you
’
re like this?”

“No.”

“Then, how…”

“I told her to bring a tray up to your
chamber.” He explained.

“Why?” She asked, curious. “Did you think I
wouldn
’
t come down to
breakfast?”

“I needed her to interrupt us, so
I
’
d have a reason to
stop.”

“Oh.”

Dominic watched the frown form, a childish
confusion clouding her features. “Must we stop, then?”

“We
’
re not married. It
’
s
improper.
”

“Are you that much concerned with propriety,
Dominic?” She shot the empty space where he was a dubious
glance.

“No.” He admitted on a woeful sigh. His
insides twisted, turning, this way and that, his heart constipated
by frustration, indecision, and doubt.

“Then, it
’
s my supposed insanity that you find so vexing and
un-beddable? Is that right?” This she said with angry sarcasm.

“Miss?” The maid called through the door.
“Are you awake?”

“Yes, Nell, one moment.” She refocused her
attention. “Can she see you? Sense you as I do.”

“My brothers and you are the only persons
I
’
ve come into contact
with that are able to call me out.”

“In that case, be silent.” Before he could
know her intention, she called through the door. “You may enter
now. I am…decent.”

Despite her wish to stay him, Eden knew the
instant the door opened and she felt the soft touch of his lips at
her temple that in the next instant he would be gone. And he
was.

Eden was surprised when not two but three of
Dominic
’
s brothers
turned up at the noon meal, along with herself and Kathleen. Even
Dom made one of his rare appearances in the dining hall. Despite
the crowd the conversation often limped to a halt and consisted
mostly of the weather and mishmash about Ethan and
Kathleen
’
s future
bundle-of-joy. The newcomers, introduced to her as Cael and Stephan
Atherton, were not what she expected. They resembled one another
greatly, barring a few scattered details, but neither looked even
the tiniest bit like either Dominic or Dr. Raine.

The one called Stephan ate very little and
spoke even less, choosing instead to brood over each course before
waving a hand to order it away. Intrigued, Eden angled to catch his
eye only to have him unsettle her with a fathomless scrutiny until
she reddened and broke contact. Cael, the one she
’
d agreed to meet, possessed a pleasing
deportment. He chatted, smiled and joked when appropriate and
seemed to aim at easing the awkward burden of several
unacknowledged elephants lumbering about the room. Eden was glad of
his presence. Otherwise, the prickly atmosphere, writhing with
tensions and secrets, would have choked her just as surely as a
noose around her neck. When, at last, the ax dropped and the
captives scattered to freedom, Eden found herself on the nervous
end of a liquid smile.

“Miss Prescott.”

“Dr. Atherton.” She twinned her curtsey with
a nod. “I understand it
’
s you I have to thank for my life.”

“Oh please, I don
’
t stand upon formal manners. And, I
’
d like to think that we all have a
little hero in us.” He chuckled at the thought, as he took her arm
into the crook of his. “Might I be so bold as to invite you on a
stroll to the portrait library. Have you seen it?”

“No. I didn
’
t even know there was one.”

“Well, my brother is an abominable host, so I
cannot say as I
’
m
surprised. He probably left off showing the wine vault as well.” He
lowered his voice to conspiracy level. “
Sour grapes.
”

Eden fought with a smile, but it won. She did
not want to like him because he
’
d been forced on her. As his steered her up two
flights and down a succession of ubiquitous hallways she had a
feeling she was being finessed out of her dislike, with a natural
sort of grace, but finessed all the same.

“He tells me you
’
re an artist.”

“Yes, I sketch.”

“Would you mind terribly if I begged a peek
at your work?”

“You have an interest in the arts?” She kept
her tone light and her face forward. “Dom painted you as strictly a
man of science.”

“My work consists of the mind
’
s science, thus I crave more
artistic pastimes. A man cannot live by bread alone.”

She conceded with a nod, as he stopped them
in front of a camouflaged door, with only a knob to distinguish it
from the wall
’
s
wainscoting. “Is there a bell-pull in the portrait gallery, do you
know?”

“Not unless Dom had one installed
recently.”

“Oh. I was going to have one of the maids
fetch my sketches.”

“I
’
ll wait. It
’
s no bother.”

“I
’
m afraid I haven
’
t been paying much attention to how we arrived
here.” Eden confessed. She
was
too caught up in trying to puzzle him out. He
did not treat her like a mental case, but Dominic must have
discussed her peculiarities with him.

“Ahhh. I
’
ll walk you back to the stairs.”

From there, Eden ran down to retrieve her
sketches, not dreading the meeting so much anymore. Truth be told,
Atherton presented a challenge. She found herself anxious for his
opinion of her works. Perhaps if she were shrewd, she could finagle
some information out of him.

* * *

The first sketch was of Kathleen in the
gazebo. Eden watched as recognition dawned, but he made no overt
comment on the quality of her talent.

“Did you know, Ms Prescott, that the brain is
the most complex organ in the body?”

“It seems logical that it would be.” She
agreed, as she shuffled along past a much-mounted wall in the
portrait gallery.

Framed portraits in varying size and shape
adorned every conceivable inch of the mile-long walls, as many of
landscapes as of persons. The central space housed free-standing
room-dividers covered with still more oils of people and places.
The towering faux walls left off in certain spots to make room for
an odd divan or two. Atherton rested upon one such luxury. Eden
estimated it would probably take several hours to view each and
every rendering in the gallery, so rest areas were a clever
idea.

Next, he flipped to a dodgy scribbling of Dr.
Raine. Eden squirmed.

“The chin is all wrong.” He proclaimed. “An
admirable effort, but obviously done without benefit of a
sitting.”

“The doctor never tarries here long enough to
pose for a portrait.”

“He is absent a lot then.”

“Almost constantly, returning more to check
on his wife than Dominic or I.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not particularly, but you asked.”

He lowered the sketches to his lap, and
tilted her his first personal inquiry of the day. “Tell me, do you
still consider yourself in need of a doctor…or would you say
you
’
re completely
healed.”

“I require neither yours, nor your
brother
’
s services, Dr.
Atherton. I do, however, want to allay Dominic
’
s concerns. He specifically asked me to
see you in this capacity. I wouldn
’
t have otherwise, even were I as mad as King
George.”

Atherton chuckled. And Eden got the distinct
impression the head doctor approved of her. “I did wonder if he
appraised you of my true reason for coming here, speaking to you.
Forgive me for being circumspect, but it took me a while to
ascertain that you were indeed aware and in compliance with my
assessing your…eh, “

“Mental prowess?”

“Yes, I like that.” He nodded and went back
to the sketchbook.

Eden saw the chance to sneak in a question of
her own. “Outside of height, you don
’
t look anything like Dominic or the other
doctor.”

“Dominic and Ethan resemble our mother.
Stephan and I do not.”

“What about the other two? Kathleen said
there were six.”

“Gideon and Gabriel. Actually,
there
’
s an oil of them
in this gallery somewhere. Perhaps we’ll come across it.”

Intrigued, she followed with a second
question. “Were the six of you not reared together?”

“Miss Prescott, this meeting is about you. If
you wish to know more about Dominic’s childhood, why not just ask
him.”

“He won
’
t even show me his face, and you think
he
’
d discuss his
childhood with me.” Eden scoffed. “You
’
ve seen them, haven
’
t you?”

“His eyes, yes, but I
’
d known him for two years before he
allowed me the privilege. He
’
s known Kathleen four and she still thinks
they
’
re sensitive to the
sun or some such nonsense. I wouldn
’
t back him into a corner about it if I were you.”
Cael flipped to the next page in the sketches. Eden could tell by
his sudden stillness and the new look of interest that
he
’
d come to the series
of sketches she
’
d done
on Dominic. He turned another page, Dominic without his specs,
another, again Dominic without his specs, her colored
speculations.

“I see you have been curious.”

“He told me the condition is trifold.”

“That is correct.”

“Why is he so phobic about it?”

“That is a question even I would like the
answer to.” He glanced up at her then, by now she hovered next to
him to gauge his reactions to her work, all pretense of viewing the
gallery forgotten. His gaze, the same liquid amber as the
sphinx-like Stephan, blazed into her, burning away the superficial
to get at her inner most thoughts.

She broke off first as she had with his
brother. “
I don’
t
believe you know much more about Dominic than I do, Dr. Atherton.”
Eden couldn
’
t help
making her words a half-accusation.

“Since you seem bent on discussing him,
I
’
ll make you a
deal.”

She conveyed her interest with an arched
brow.

“You answer my questions, and I
’
ll answer yours.”

* * *

Dominic wasn
’
t sure what approach he should take. He
’
d never really ceased thinking of
Stephan as a child. Now seemed an appropriate time to promote him
to adulthood; he
’
d made
two and twenty his birthday. With his recent manifestation—of what,
Dom didn’t know—Stephan would have to brazen out a new path.
Whether he cared to accept it or not a conventional life lay beyond
his reach.

They strolled in the stone garden at the back
of the house. Winter had not yet relinquished its bitter hold, so
many of the flowering plants weren
’
t in
bloom.

Dom tilted his gaze. His slightly taller
height and copper hair were Stephan
’
s main distinction from Cael.

“Please don
’
t stare as if I am some stranger who just happens
to resemble your brother. Even though I have maimed and nearly
killed, I
’
m still me.
”

“My apologies.”

“Cael suggested this?”

Dom noticed that his words were a
statement.

“Ethan. I actually think it shocked Cael. But
I wouldn
’
t have extended
the invitation unless your being here suited me.”

“What
’
s wrong?”

Dom frowned. The younger man should have
already been apprised of the situation, particularly since a good
deal of it concerned him. “Cael hasn
’
t spoken about Gabriel? Montgomery
’
s threats? Greyson?”