"Who sent you?" Dominic repeated, his voice low and savage. "Was it Germain?" When Cassandra nodded, Dominic abruptly released his hold. He watched without pity as she sank limply to the floor. "Where can I find him?"
Cassandra shook her head, sobbing brokenly as she cradled her arm. When Dominic took a step closer, she cringed. "I swear I don't know! He . . . he came to my rooms two days ago. I don't know where he is now."
"How much did he pay you?"
"Two hundred guineas. He was to meet me again on Friday."
A muscle in Dominic's jaw clenched. "Where?"
"My . . . my rooms."
"You will not be there." He walked across the room and gave the bellpull a vicious tug. Turning, he cast a contemptuous glance at Cassandra. "You will leave London tonight, I don't care how. Don't count on Germain for protection if you disobey me, for no power on earth could stop me from killing you if I so much as set eyes on you again." When Farley burst into the room a moment later, Dominic indicated Cassandra with an impatient wave of his hand. "Get her out of my sight."
Familiar with his employer's black moods, Farley quickly bundled up the sobbing woman and half carried her over the threshold, closing the door behind him.
When they were gone, Dominic spun around and sent his balled fist crashing into the nearest wall. Since that brought no satisfaction, he threw himself in the chair beside the bed and sat perfectly still, slowly clenching and unclenching his fists until he felt able to control his rage.
A deep frown curled his mouth as he brooded on the puzzle. For the life of him, he couldn't guess what Germain was planning. He could think of no possible reason why the man would be interested in papers showing his ownership of the land in France, or even why Charles would probe into his personal life. Dominic ran his fingers through his dark hair, swearing savagely.
Before the Revolution the property had belonged to his father, but at the comte's death, the land had been confiscated by the French government. Part of it had been divided among the serfs of the estate; and later, sections had been given as rewards to supporters of Napoleon.
The fall of Napoleon's empire had changed matters, though, and when the war had ended, Dominic had gone to Paris and commissioned an agent to purchase back the estate that was his rightful heritage. It had taken years and had cost a princely sum in bribes and inflated prices to secure the lands and old chateau. Dominic hadn't even visited the estate yet, for only recently had the agent succeeded in converting the parcels to a whole and arranged for a deed to be drawn up. The agent had also reported that while the chateau still stood, it had suffered heavy damages, and that neglect and lack of management had rendered the vineyards and farmlands completely unproductive. So why would Charles be interested in the deed? Dominic asked himself again.
Feeling hatred and anger knotting his stomach, he pulled himself out of the chair and began to pace the room like a wild animal whose cage was far too confining.
Cassandra was no problem, Dominic decided. She was merely Germain's tool. Her connection would be useful, however, since Charles had already arranged to meet her. And of course Cassandra wouldn't be attending the meeting. It would be Dominic himself who made the scheduled appointment.
>
As it turned out, Dominic never went to Cassandra's rooms to find Charles Germain. Germain came to him.
Early the next morning Dominic was wakened by Farley with the news that a gentleman waited below. Dominic shrugged into a crimson dressing gown and went downstairs to attend his visitor.
The morning caller was definitely Charles Germain. A tall, fair-haired man with hooded eyes and a light complexion, Germain had a slender build and a vapid expression that made him appear harmless. Dominic had long ago learned not to underestimate the man, however. Germain's slight frame enabled him to move with a dancer's grace, and his expert agility was backed by a cunning brain. A formidable opponent by any standards, Dominic reflected as he met his enemy's gaze for the first time in almost four years.
Charles was about forty now, Dominic guessed, but the years under the hot Indian sun had not been kind to him. His complexion was flushed a deep red, indicating permanent skin damage, and there were new lines about his eyes and mouth.
Dominic paused in the doorway of the salon and raised a dark eyebrow. "Such a surprise, Charles. Where have you been hiding all these years?"
Germain's mouth tightened. "Don't play the fool with me, Dominic. Unless Manning's spies have bungled it, you have known for some time of my return."
A dark gleam appeared in Dominic's gray eyes. "I have. But I expected you much sooner—and certainly not in broad daylight. What kept you? I made it easy enough for you to find me."
"Quite easy. I could have killed you several times over."
"You could have tried. So why did you not? I confess that has me puzzled."
Charles appeared to consider his words carefully. "You have something I want."
"Ah yes, the deed," Dominic said, thrusting his hands deep in the pockets of his dressing gown. "I'll wager you were disappointed in Cassandra. I could have warned you she didn't have the intelligence to carry out your work. But why do you want the deed?"
Germain's smile resembled a sneer. "It is not for me. It is for . . . a client, let us say. Someone who is extremely interested in your future. I am to receive a large bonus if I can obtain the property in addition to killing you." When Dominic merely raised an eyebrow, Germain waved his hand impatiently. "Last night you were lucky enough to find out about the deed, but now that you've been warned, it should prove difficult for me to get my hands on it. So I have a proposition for you. You get the name of my client in exchange for the property."
Dominic was genuinely amused. "Your wits have gone begging, Charles, if you expect me to turn over a valuable estate to you just for a name."
"What if I were to tell you that my client profited from your father's death?"
Dominic gave him a piercing look but made no comment. Charles shrugged. "Very well, then. We will make it an affair of honor, with the winner's claim either the deed or the information. I doubt you would refuse a duel."