"Of course, after you tell me what set you off like a firecracker. No, that won't wash, my friend," Jason said when Dominic eyed him coldly. "You forget that I've known you too long for your withering looks to have any effect. And you can't knock me senseless while I'm driving your cattle. Besides, I'm, a new father, remember? That was quite a performance you gave with Germain, incidentally. Very effective. Durham," he mused. "Where have I heard the name before?"
Dominic's lip curled. "Do you recall what I told you about my father's death?"
Jason nodded, remembering the story Dominic had related some years ago when they had both been less than sober. There had been bitter anguish in Dominic's voice when he had spoken of the false arrest. "She accused my father of murder," he said, clenching his fists till the knuckles turned white. "She lied! My father was no more a murderer than you or I, yet he was condemned to die by a vicious bitch for God knows what reason. She even tried to make him believe it was all a mistake. Treachery at its finest." Dominic had closed his eyes and laughed grimly. "How well I remember the look on my father's face when he learned Suzanne Durham was his accuser. She got away with it, though. She fled France and my father lost his head to the Republic. I should have killed her!" When Jason had pointed out that Dominic had been a mere child, his face had become shuttered. He had never again mentioned his father.
"Ah, yes," Jason said, making the connection. "The girl's name was Durham, wasn't it?"
"Suzanne Durham. Sir Charles was her father."
Jason brought the horses to a halt. "And he is the man who wants you dead? But why, after all these years?"
"If I knew that, do you think I'd be sitting here now? But at least one puzzle is solved. Durham must still be living near Valdois. That must be how he knew of the sale of the estate. And the timing is right. I only purchased the deed a few months ago. My guess is that when he learned I had bought the property, he hired Germain to prevent me from assuming control."
"Nice neighbor you have," Jason remarked dryly. "So, what do you intend to do now?"
"Go to France. I'm just the least bit curious about why Durham wants to kill me. Christ! He must be well over seventy by now, though how he ever escaped the Revolution and the war with England I can't imagine. Here, let me drive. I'm calm enough not to land us in a ditch."
When Jason handed over the reins, Dominic turned the curricle around and urged the horses into a brisk trot. "I've been meaning to go to France anyway, to put Valdois in some sort of working order. This business with Durham makes it imperative. If I leave tomorrow, I should be back in a matter of weeks."
Jason glared at him thoughtfully. "I have a better idea. Wait until after the christening and I'll go with you. It won't hurt to have me along when you confront Durham, and I would enjoy the trip."
Dominic hesitated. His first impulse was to say no, for the sooner he set out, the sooner he could solve the puzzle about Sir Charles Durham. Jason's plan would mean a delay of nearly a week, and he had already put off the trip more than once. He had been reluctant to return to Valdois, knowing he would dredge up unwanted memories. But wasn't that why he had bought the damned property in the first place? So he could face the past? So perhaps then his bitterness would leave him? He wanted to rebuild the land, if only to prove . . . prove what? That he could conquer the devils that drove him? Would he then find peace?
When a vision of Brie suddenly floated into his mind, Dominic shook his head. Brie, peaceful? A contradiction in terms, certainly. But he did want to see her again. She would be arriving in London on Friday, the day before the christening. That left Saturday evening. . . . He and Jason could leave the next morning for France. Admittedly, having Jason as a travelling companion would make the journey far more enjoyable, but Dominic couldn't fool himself over why he was willing, even eager, to postpone the trip.
"Well, have you made up your mind?" Jason broke in on his musings.
Dominic gave a curt nod, even while chiding himself for letting Brie influence his plans. "You know you are welcome. But shouldn't you be with your wife at a time like this?"
Jason grinned ruefully. "Frankly, Lauren will be relieved to be rid of me for a while. I'm afraid I've been getting a bit underfoot lately."
Dominic slanted him a mocking glance. "So domestic bliss is not perfect after all. I wondered how long it would take you to discover jt."
"I never said it was perfect, my thickheaded friend. But I will say this—I wouldn't trade it for the world."
When they returned to Grosvenor Square, Jason led Dominic to a small sitting room where his wife was sewing a ruffle onto a nightgown for their new daughter. Lauren looked lovelier than ever, Dominic thought as he greeted her. Motherhood had not marred the elegance of her regal figure, or dimmed the luster of her golden hair.
She returned his greeting with enthusiasm and pressed him into staying for lunch. "For you have not seen Alexandra yet," she added with a smile, "and I shall not let you leave until you have admired her properly."
Over lunch, Dominic gave an account of his stay with Julian, dwelling mainly on the social aspects of his visit. He managed to hide his surprise when he discovered that Jason and Lauren knew Brie.
"We only met her last year," Lauren explained, "but she truly impressed me. It must have been extremely difficult for her to keep up the training stables her father built. I h
adn't realized she and Lord Denville were such close neighbors, or I would have written and told her you were coming."
Dominic smiled at her artless comment. How different his first meeting with Brie would have been, had she been warned of his arrival. How different all their meetings would have been.
Realizing his thoughts had drifted, Dominic steered the conversation to safer channels, mentioning his impending journey to France with Jason. Lauren had several questions for her husband about the trip, and they spent the remainder of the meal discussing plans and itineraries.
After lunch, Lauren and Jason took Dominic upstairs to the nursery where baby Alexandra was just waking from a nap. Dominic was surprised when Lauren gently lifted the infant and placed her in his arms, but while he wasn't quite sure what to do with the tiny child, he paid all the proper compliments.
The proud parents fairly beamed with approval, he noted sardonically. Watching them, however, he was conscious of the odd sensation of being an outsider. He could never share the special bond that existed between Lauren and Jason—a bond that had been strengthened by the birth of their daughter. Yet, seeing Jason smile so tenderly at his wife, Dominic actually found himself envious of the unique happiness his friend had found.
Even after he had taken his leave of the couple, the feeling persisted, and later, when he was pondering his strange reaction, he recalled that Jason had once tried to explain his love. "I don't want to live without her, Dom," Jason had insisted. "I can't live without her." Dominic remembered laughing at the time.
He had no inclination to laugh now—particularly when he thought of the auburn-haired, hot-tempered beauty he had left in Rutland. It was not a question of being able to live without her, of course. He could. He wanted her, though.
The question was, how much?