Once Upon a Kiss Read Free Page A

her gown.
    He reciprocated her nod and turned to address
William. “Welcome, Beauchamp,” he said. “And yet I fear we did not quite expect
you.”
    There seemed to be a question in his declaration,
and William’s face fell into a frown. “What say you? Did my messenger not reach
Drakewich?”
    There was a moment of taut silence as Graeham
glanced briefly toward his brother—the Dragon shook his head, almost
imperceptibly—and then Graeham replied with a note of genuine concern.
“He did not. Perchance when did you dispatch him?”
    William at once dismounted, his expression grave
as he came to stand before Graeham d’Lucy. He glanced up at Dominique. “No
later than midmorn, would you say?” Dominique thought he might be looking for
affirmation, but the instant her lips parted to speak, his brows drew together
in condemnation, and he averted his face. “Perhaps he was laid upon by
brigands?” he reckoned, with growing distress. “I’ve heard tell you’ve been
troubled with them of late?”
    Dominique’s brows knit as she inspected their
entourage, wondering who it was that her brother had sent ahead to announce
their arrival. None were unaccounted for that she could recall. Nevertheless,
if William claimed he had dispatched a messenger, surely he had dispatched a
messenger. What reason would he have to lie about something so trivial?
Whatever else she might say of him, her brother had never forsworn himself.
    “William,” she ventured, hoping to set him at
ease, “Were the herald laid upon by brigands, would there not have been signs
of foul play along the way? We saw none,” she pointed out.
    Like blue fire, William’s gaze snapped up to meet
hers, his eyes bright with ire—though at what, she didn’t know. Perhaps
he feared to have lost another man when Amdel could little spare another loss.
And yet to her bewilderment, he simply glared at her an interminable moment, as
though cautioning her to remain silent. She tilted her head, silently
questioning what it was she’d said to anger him so easily, but he said naught,
only glared at her with fire in his eyes.
    The silence between them lengthened.
    “Perchance he took another route?” a deep voice
interjected.
    A shudder raced down Dominique’s spine at the
intense, slightly mocking sound of it. Without being told, she knew at once who
had spoken, and her face flushed as she met the Dragon’s gaze. For the boldest
instant he held her eyes, as though he were appraising her. God’s mercy, but
she had the sensation of being seduced into their clear green depths—that
if she did she not break free, she would be eternally lost. Then abruptly he
glanced away, and his release of her was as physical as though he’d thrust her
bodily aside.
    Shaken by his perusal, Dominique averted her gaze
to her brother, and at once heard the Dragon call for one of his men to come
forward.
    “Aye,” William agreed, eyeing her wrathfully
still. “Perhaps he took another route...”
    Unnerved, though not by her brother’s
glare—she’d weathered them afore—but by the Dragon’s very presence,
Dominique ran her fingers along the length of her mare’s reins. She dared not
glance up again for dread of meeting his eyes.
    Like a terrible blade, the sound of his voice
sliced through the air, prickling the tiny hairs of her nape. He commanded his
men, “Search every route between Drakewich and Amdel.
    “Take as many men as you require and search under
every last blade of grass,” he reiterated without the slightest pretense at
civility. ’Twas evident to Dominique that he cared not a whit whether he
offended them, or whether his orders seemed an underlying challenge to her
brother.
    “Search the area thoroughly,” he charged the man,
“then report to me at once.”
    Why would William lie? she thought again. Of
course, it would make sense that her brother would send a man to herald their
arrival. Why would William bear false witness about something so