Once Upon a Kiss

chapter 15





Hours later Dominique’s cheeks still grew warm with the memory. God’s truth, but she’d never been more humiliated in all her life. Her only comfort lay in the fact that Blaec d’Lucy had apparently believed her tale—had accepted her lie as truth.

Meager comfort that, when he likely thought her an imbecile, as well.

Nor had she as yet discerned why William had discharged the arrow, though she thought it very likely that he’d done so in anger. Seeing the body of his own man, lying there... Dominique shook her head, unable to bring it to mind, so horrid was the sight. And if she could not even think of it... how much worse had it been for her brother to see it?

Aye, she could well understand his fury. And knowing William, that he’d successfully tempered his anger enough not to challenge Graeham on the spot was remarkable, and she could not regret having taken the blame for him. She could never have borne the sight of her brother’s execution, as he would never have prevailed, outnumbered as they’d been.

Nor had it truly been Graeham’s fault, she reminded herself—not when he’d not even been aware of their imminent arrival. How could he have known to send guards to protect their man when the messenger had never arrived to request it? With that thought, she sent a silent prayer skyward and crossed herself, thanking God for their safe passage. How easily such a fate could have been theirs. She shuddered at the thought.

If only she could speak with William... if she could but see his face...

They’d returned to the castle in grim spirits, all of them, no one breaching the taut silence—not even Graeham, who was of usual so diplomatic. And then her brother together with Graeham and Blaec d’Lucy had closeted themselves at once, speaking in low tones behind closed doors. For her part, Dominique had made great haste in seeking the sanctuary of her bedchamber—she closed her eyes—Blaec’s chamber, she corrected herself. Not hers.

She sat now, her stomach roiling as she imagined the discourse taking place belowstairs. By the look in Blaec d’Lucy’s eyes, she thought perhaps both she and William were in mortal danger. Nay, he’d not held her accountable there in the woods, but she sensed it would come to that, and soon.

She couldn’t bear the wait.

It seemed hours that she sat upon the bed, wringing her hands, staring at the door. It was with great relief that she greeted William as he entered the chamber, finally Though his expression was grave, Dominique could only be reassured that he stood before her unharmed.

“William!” she exclaimed, springing from the bed. She ran to embrace him—something she’d not done since they’d been children together. But she was so glad to see him that she couldn’t contain a sob of relief. “Oh, William,” she cried, embracing him tightly. “I was worried!”

Her gesture seemed to startle him, for he returned the embrace awkwardly at first, and then with restraint, looking down upon her with the queerest expression upon his handsome face. “What is it?” she asked. ‘Tell me!”

He cleared his throat, and then embraced her more fully, laying his cheek down upon the pate of her head. “I... I think it best I should go, Dominique.”

Dominique gave a small gasp of surprise at his disclosure, and tried to withdraw, but he held her firmly against him with a hand splayed at her back, as though he could not bear for them to part as yet. Hearing the powerful hammering of his heart only managed to heighten her fears. God save them both, for little, if anything, ever concerned her stalwart brother. To Dominique’s way of thought, their situation must be dire for him to be so troubled now. At her back, his palms were sweaty. She could feel the dampness even through her gown, and a fear rushed through her, prickling her spine.

“God... Dominique...” His voice was hoarse.

Dominique peered up at him. “Pray tell, William, speak!” She clutched at his tunic. “Do not keep me in the dark... please...”

He cleared his throat once more.

She could little bear the wait. “Did they bid you leave?”

“Nay, Dominique, they did not.” He cupped her chin, lifting her face with a tenderness the likes of which he’d never shown her before—the likes of which she’d never known. Ever. The gesture overwhelmed her. “You were very brave today,” he told her gently. “I was fiercely proud of you.” His expression, for the first time in so long, was tender, caring, as though he bore her some measure of love. How long had it been since he’d looked at her so? Her heart leapt, and like a child long starved for affection, tears swam in her eyes. What mockery of life this was, that they should find each other now when he was to leave her.

“I could not bear for them to harm you,” she told him truthfully.

“Aye, well, ’tis precisely why I think it best I go,” he told her. ‘Today you were able to salvage the day, Dominique. Tomorrow, perhaps not.”

“Nay, William... please!” How long had she yearned for a true family? God’s love, how long had she craved her father’s, mother’s, brother’s arms? Any of them, to no avail. How long? Nay, she could not lose him now. Not now. “I cannot bear the thought of remaining here alone,” she told him, her eyes pleading with him. “Not without you. Do not leave me.”

“Dominique... my love... my precious little sister...” His voice trailed suddenly. And then he frowned, seeming to regain hold of himself. “My presence here does naught but undo the good we’ve worked so hard to achieve. Can you not see that?”

Reluctantly, Dominique nodded.

“The truth is that while I crave this alliance above life itself, I cannot trust myself to remain under the same roof with Blaec d’Lucy. You witnessed the truth of that today—nor do I trust the bastard any more than I trust myself in his presence. I cannot abide the man. No, ’tis best I go. There is too much to be lost else wise. And you shall see... all will be set right in the end,” he assured her, releasing her chin abruptly and thrusting her face away, as though it disturbed him suddenly.

“You must trust me,” he said. And then he grasped her arms suddenly, startling her. “Do you trust me, Dominique?” He shook her gently when she did not at once respond. “Do you?”

Dominique nodded, and allowed him to draw her once more into his embrace, although he held her a little too tightly this time, a little too intensely. God’s truth, but she thought he would squeeze the breath from her lungs! Gasping for air, she felt the sudden inexplicable need to pull away, distance herself, but she did not. She held him back, though somewhat rigidly, telling herself it was merely that she was unaccustomed to such affections between them. She frowned at herself... This was good... this was what she wanted... wasn’t it?

“Good,” he said, and sighed heavily, releasing her.

Relieved, Dominique at once stepped back out of his reach, drawing in a shaky breath.

He frowned at her reaction, but overlooked it and said, “Listen to me closely, Dominique... You must find a way to hasten the ceremony. You must lead Graeham to the altar as soon as possible. It simply cannot wait, for I fear Blaec d’Lucy would thwart us if he could. Do you understand me?”

Dominique nodded. “He does not trust us,” she agreed, and then averted her eyes as her heart twisted painfully. Her brows knit. “I do believe he despises me, in truth.” She dared not glance up at William in that instant, dared not... for fear that he would see how very much the notion pained her.

Not when she could not comprehend it herself. Sweet Mary, but why should she care what Blaec d’Lucy felt for her? Yet somehow... somehow... she did.

“I understand,” she said, gazing up at him as tears once again welled in her eyes. God’s love, but she was so confused. “I swear I’ll not disappoint you, William.” She shook her head. “I swear, I will not.”

He studied her a moment, and Dominique fidgeted under his intense scrutiny. “Nay,” he agreed, his expression hardening abruptly, “you’ll not.” His eyes pierced her as he cautioned, “See that you do not.”



Try as she might, long after William departed Drakewich, Dominique still could not abolish from her thoughts the warning in his glare. Something about the way he’d looked at her as he’d ridden from the gates filled her with dismay, for it left her with a sense of impending doom.

Following their discourse, William had not even remained long enough to take the evening meal with her: rather he and his retainers returned to Amdel, hoping to utilize the remaining daylight for their ease of travel.

At table, Dominique was especially quiet, reticent even, listening to the bantering of the men, and trying not to feel a hostage in the enemy’s court. For truth, that was what she felt like, even despite that Graeham d’Lucy seemed intent on smoothing the way before them. He entertained her with stories of his and his brother’s youth, while Dominique tried not to wonder what his devil brother was up to, conspicuously absent as he was.

Scarcely able to bear the tension of awaiting his inevitable arrival and the burden of smiling when she did not feel like it, Dominique was unable to muster the slightest appetite. She excused herself early and escaped to the solitude of her chamber.

With Alyss’ help, she prepared herself for bed and crawled beneath the covers, fatigued by the ordeal of the day. Though still, even into the blackness of night, sleep eluded her.

Forsaken and afraid as she felt, the overwhelming sense of doom intensified.

Something was not right, she knew.

She could feel it just as surely as she breathed.

Or perhaps it was simply guilt... guilt because along with her brother’s face, another face swam before her eyes, as well.

Not Graeham d’Lucy’s.

This face was swarthy... scarred... the eyes too knowing, scathing... and still—God have mercy upon her wicked, unrepenting soul—she craved those beautiful, demanding lips upon her own...

The very memory stirred to life within her the most disturbing heat. She tossed and writhed upon the bed, breathless and perspiring, betrayed by her traitorous body, unable to find respite. Nor could she resolve the man Alyss spoke of with the one she knew. Kind? Compassionate? She could not conceive it, and yet Alyss’ words held some truth, though it seemed it was only Dominique who inspired such viciousness in Blaec d’Lucy, for he had been concerned for Alyss.

Dominique was confused.

And God help her, when at last she succumbed to sleep, it was of the Dragon she dreamt.