If the Viscount Falls (16 page)

“Not true.” His breathing labored, he dragged his mouth from her breast to kiss his way back up to her throat. “I couldn't
allow
myself to want you. There's a difference.”

None that she could see. But just now, she could hardly think. One of Dom's hands worked its magic on her breast, his mouth seared kisses into her tender skin, and his other hand snaked around to cup her derriere and pull her flush against him.

Something hard pressed into her through her skirts. What the devil?

“Jane,” he rasped against her lips. “My darling Jane . . . still mine . . .”

The possessive note in his voice drove out every other thought. She was losing the fight against him.

Sweet Lord, she couldn't. Mustn't, until she was sure
he wouldn't become Dom the Almighty again. Until she was sure he wouldn't trample her into dust, the way he had before when things hadn't been exactly how he wanted them. She couldn't go through that again.

She pushed him back, breaking his hold on her. “Not yours,” she said firmly. Her breath still came in heavy gasps, and she fought to get it under control. To get herself under control. “Not anymore.”

He stared at her a long moment, his eyes ablaze and his hands flexing at his sides as if regretting the loss of her already. “Will you never forgive me for what I did so long ago, Jane?”

The soft question caught her off guard. “Would you do it again if you had the chance?” She could hardly breathe, awaiting his answer.

With a low oath, he glanced away. Then his features hardened into those of the rigid and arrogant Dom he had become. “Yes. I did the only thing I could to keep you happy.”

Her breath turned to ice in her throat. “That's the problem. You still really believe that.”

His gaze swung to her again, but before he could say anything more, noises in the hall arrested them both.

“It's gone very quiet in there.” It was the duke's voice, remarkably clear, sounding as if it came from right outside the door. “Perhaps we should knock first.”

Oh no! As Jane frantically set her gown to rights, she heard Lisette say, “Don't you dare bother them, Max. I'm sure everything's fine. Let's come back later.”

With panic growing in her belly, Jane glanced around for her tucker. Wordlessly, Dom plucked it from the back of a chair and handed it to her.

Without meeting his gaze, she pinned it into her bodice, hoping to hide the tiny holes where Dom had unwittingly ripped it free of its pins.

“Besides,” drawled Tristan, “it's not as if Dom will seduce her or anything. That's not his vice.”

Sweet Lord, were they
all
right outside the door?

“I'm not worried about that,” Max answered. “Miss Vernon isn't the sort to
let
him seduce her.”

As Jane tensed, Dom hissed under his breath, “Do the blasted idiots not realize we can hear them?”

“Apparently not.”

Dom furtively adjusted his trousers, which seemed to be rather . . . oddly protruding just now.

Ohhh. Right. This was one time she wished Nancy hadn't been so forthcoming about what happened to a man's body when he was aroused. So
that,
not his pistol, had been the odd bulge digging into her.

Definitely not a pistol. Her cheeks positively flamed. Faith, how could she even face his family after this and not give away what she and Dom had been doing?

Mortified, she hurried to the looking glass to fix her hair. While she stuffed tendrils back into place and repinned drooping curls, Dom came up behind her to meet her gaze in the mirror. “Before we let them in, I want an answer to my question about Blakeborough.”

Curse the stubborn man. How could she tell Dom she was so pathetic that she hadn't even managed to
find another man to love in all the years they'd spent apart? That she'd been foolish enough to wait around for Dom all this time, when he'd happily gone on living his life without her? Her pride couldn't endure having him know that.

To her relief, Tristan said, “Well, whatever they're up to, we have to get moving.” A knock sounded at the door. “Dom? Jane? Are you done talking?”

She met Dom's gaze with a certain defiance, and he arched one eyebrow in question.

So she took matters into her own hands and strode for the door. Caught off guard, Dom swore behind her and snatched up his greatcoat just as she opened the door and said, “Please come in. We're quite finished.”

In more ways than one.

Their companions trooped in, casting her and Dom wary glances. Jane looked over to see Dom holding his greatcoat looped over his arm as if to shield the front of him. That brought the blushes back to her cheeks.

She caught Lisette furtively watching her, and she cursed herself for wearing her emotions on her sleeve. Better shift her attention elsewhere before Lisette guessed just how shameless she'd been.

“I assume you now know of Nancy's possible pregnancy?” she said baldly.

The others exchanged glances.

“Tristan filled us in, yes,” Lisette said.

“As I explained to Dom, it is by no means a certain thing.” Swiftly Jane related what she'd revealed to him
about Nancy's past miscarriages and friendship with Samuel.

The minute she was done, Dom said, “Jane seems to think that Nancy would never behave so duplicitously as to try passing off Samuel's child as George's own.”

“Then perhaps we should listen to her,” the duke said.

“Max!” Lisette said. “Don't you realize what would happen to Dom if Nancy gives birth to a son who could lay claim to the estate and title?”

“Of course. But that's beside the point. And it doesn't change the fact that none of us are remotely familiar with George's wife. I'm not sure I've even met her.” He nodded to Jane. “Whereas Miss Vernon has had an intimate acquaintance with her for years. If anyone knows the woman's character, it ought to be she.”

Jane could have kissed him for that. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Call me Max, please,” he corrected her. “I learned a long time ago that this family doesn't stand on ceremony.”

“Then do call me Jane,” she answered. “It's beginning to look more and more like we'll be thrown into each other's pockets quite a bit in the next few days, given that I'll be traveling on with you and Lisette to London.”

“Speaking of that,” Tristan said, “Max and I came up with a plan while you two were having your discussion . . . or whatever it was.” When his knowing tone provoked a foul glance from Dom, Tristan added
hastily, “Max has an estate near Newark, about seven or eight hours' drive from here. It's a logical stopping point on the road to London, since you'll need to break the trip up into parts. Since we're getting a late start, we thought that you three could head on to Max's estate in Newark while I stay to do more nosing around in York.”

“For what?” Dom asked.

“Information on Barlow. Other than what the innkeeper said about the post chaise to London Barlow hired for him and Nancy, we didn't learn anything about whether they've been spending time together. It would be good to know the exact nature of their . . . er . . . friendship.”

“I think we can guess, can't we?” Lisette said stoutly. “Given all the gossip about Mr. Barlow, I mean.”

Jane winced. It had probably been too much to expect that Lisette would be on
her
side and not Dom's, but still it hurt to see the duchess so ready to assume the worst about Nancy.

“I'm sure all the rumors about Mr. Barlow and women are true,” Jane said. “But that speaks more to his character than to my cousin's. It certainly doesn't mean Nancy ran off to have the man's baby, for pity's sake.” She glanced at the three siblings, who'd unconsciously moved together, ranging themselves against her. “Have any of you considered the possibility that she didn't go with him of her own accord?”

“No,” Dom growled, “because it's absurd.”

Jane pinned him with her gaze. “Why? Simply because you wish it to be? Was there any
evidence
that she
went with him willingly? Did the innkeeper say anything about how she behaved? Did he even see her get into the coach
with
Samuel?”

“No,” Tristan put in before Dom could growl something else at her. “But what would Barlow's purpose be in abducting her?”

“Marriage, of course,” the duke answered. “As Nancy's husband, Barlow would have complete control over her widow's portion. And if Nancy is bearing George's child, then Barlow would be stepfather to the new viscount. He'd be able to mold the lad however he wished and run the estate however he pleased until the lad came of age. He could bleed it dry before the heir ever reached his majority.”

“You see?” Jane said. “Even the duke understands that more could be at work here.”

Dom met her gaze balefully. “First of all, we have no evidence that Barlow took her against her will, and we have plenty of evidence that he did not. We know she came here purposely to meet him.”

“That's probably true,” Jane conceded, “but I don't think she intended to run away with him, or why bother to tell the servants she'd be back that night? She could have just said she was going to Bath with her aunt. Then she could have packed up all her baggage and gone off, with nobody the wiser. Besides, as I already told you, she would never willingly leave her dogs behind.”

“All good points, you have to admit,” the duke said.

Jane flashed him a smile. “Thank you, Max.” He was
obviously a very wise man, and Lisette was a very lucky woman.

Though judging from the scowl Lisette leveled on him, the woman didn't particularly agree with that assessment at the moment.

Dom crossed his arms over his chest. “But if Barlow kidnapped Nancy in an attempt to force her into a marriage, wouldn't he have carried her to Gretna Green? He'd want her married to him as quickly and easily as possible. Instead, they're going to London.”

“None of it makes any sense, I'll admit,” Jane said.

Tristan nodded. “And that's precisely why we need more information. So I'll stay in York however long it takes to find it, and then I'll catch up to you in Newark or even London to tell you what I've learned.”

Dom eyed him warily. “Won't your wife have something to say about your traveling so far off?”

“I already knew this was probably not going to be swift or easy, so I prepared her for any eventuality. She'll understand.” Tristan shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “You may need me once you reach London. I realize that Victor and Isa are there, but who knows what else we'll uncover as this investigation goes on? Your entire future could be at stake. So I'd rather err on the side of caution and pursue this to the end with you.”

Dom got a strange look on his face, surprise and affection mingling. “Thanks,” he said, his voice taut with emotion. “Though I do welcome the help, you don't have to do that. This isn't your fight, after all.”

“It wasn't your fight when you stood up to George
on my behalf, either,” Tristan said softly. “The least I can do after all you did for me is add my support to this endeavor.”

The two brothers stared at each other a long moment, and Lisette looked a little misty-eyed.

Then Tristan cleared his throat. “Besides, ever since Zoe got pregnant, she's been craving those sour pickles sold only at Fortnum & Mason in London. So I'll bring her back jars of them, and she'll instantly forgive me for being gone so long.”

“Not if she finds out that you think her forgiveness can be bought with jars of pickles,” Lisette said dryly.

“You'd be surprised how much a jar of those pickles could buy me right now.” Tristan grinned. “Or perhaps not, since you've already endured having a baby.”

“Lisette craved Russian caviar,” the duke said. “Slightly more difficult to come by than pickles.”

“And slightly harder on the purse,” Dom put in. “Good thing she's married to
you
.”

“For your next pregnancy,” Tristan told his sister, “you should crave pearls. So much more practical than caviar.”

Lisette stuck her tongue out at him, and Max said, “Don't give her ideas,” though he then smiled at her.

Jane got the feeling that the duke would buy his wife the moon if he could find a way to dislodge it from the night sky, and her throat tightened with envy. Dom hadn't even been willing to swallow his pride for
her.

“Speaking of babies, actual and prospective,” the duke went on, “I know Lisette is eager to get home
to ours, and Dom is eager to find out for sure about Nancy's, so we'd better be off. We've already lost a great deal of time just trying to find out the circumstances of Nancy's disappearance.”

“True,” Dom said. “We'll be lucky if we catch up to the pair before they disappear into the crowds of London.”

Tristan's expression hardened as he walked toward the door. “Don't worry. If Victor and I have to comb every slum in the city, we'll find them. You can be sure of that.”

Jane believed him. The Duke's Men had quite the reputation for finding people, and they had more reason than usual to find Nancy.

Now if only she could be sure that Barlow wouldn't destroy Nancy's reputation or steal her future before they did.

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