"Has it?" He took a step back, spread his arms, yellow fire springing to life in his fingers. "Give me but another hour, my love." He waved his arms in one fluid movement and a wall of yellow fire ringed them in, creating a coc.o.o.n of privacy beneath the golden arch of the bridge, cutting off the coolness of the night air and surrounding her with gentle warmth.

Dominic leaned forward, placing his hands against the brick wall at her back, trapping her within the warmer heat of his arms. Gold light danced in his pale hair, playing along his strong jaw, his high cheekbones. He glowed like an angel yet his voice tempted like the very devil. "You will now tell me that you love me too. Then I will make love to you. Right here. Right now."

Ca.s.s blinked. They stood in a bubble of fire, with brick at her back and gravel beneath her feet. "I don't think this is quite the place-"

"Ah, but I cannot wait a moment longer." He lowered his mouth to hers with a fierce possessiveness that stole her breath, her very thoughts. Her desire flared and held her trapped more surely than his arms.

His lips traced a path to her neck, making her lean her head back, her coiffure cushioning her head against the brick. Ca.s.s reached up and anch.o.r.ed herself by clasping his arms, taut with muscle as he braced himself over her.

"Tell me," he growled, his words shivering the skin at her neck.

"I love you."

He swept his mouth lower, over the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s above her bodice. "Again."

"I... I..." Somehow she'd lost the ability to speak. She couldn't seem to take a proper breath within the confines of her stays. It made her head spin and her skin tingle with awareness.

He pulled away from her then, his eyes deeper than night, softer than velvet. His full lips pressed together while his sculpted jaw hardened with intensity. "Tell me, Ca.s.s. And I'll make love to you. For I'm never sure if it will be the last time and I can't seem to get my fill of you."

Her hands curled over his broad shoulders, the velvet fabric of his coat soft against her palms, the silky texture of his pale hair a tickle atop her skin. His hands clasped her waist and he swept her up against him then, his mouth but a movement from her own. She quickly wrapped her arms tightly about his neck, her toes barely touching the gravel at her feet. She didn't know how he might manage it, but she wanted him with a desperation that made her no longer care for anything but the dance of his lovemaking.

Ca.s.sandra gathered enough air into her lungs to give him what he demanded. "I love you, Dominic. I have loved no other as much as I love you."

His lips curved into a full smile, and he covered her mouth with his, demanding she open with the force of his tongue, tasting the depths of her when she complied. She felt the wall again at her back, but one of his arms cushioned her while the other gathered the lace of her skirts up to her waist. The strength that had once frightened her only made her heart thrill with rapid beats while he uncovered her legs, still holding her aloft.

"Wrap them around me."

Thank heavens the bulk of her hoops lay at her sides, for she could do naught but what he asked. Her stockings slid halfway down her calves and she felt the velvet of his coat, the firm solidity of his waist. And then his fingers, ah, they found her inner thighs and stroked her with promise.

She gasped and he broke the kiss, only to move his mouth downward, across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s again. Ca.s.s couldn't bear the teasing any longer. She released her hold about him, not surprised that he held her full weight without any a.s.sistance from her and with barely any effort due to the low cut of her gown, pulled her b.r.e.a.s.t.s out of the top of her bodice.

Dominic eagerly latched on to a nipple and she gripped his shoulders again, this time not to hold on but to enable her to arch her body upward, offering herself to his mouth with a moan of sheer delight.

His fingers had found her inner core and his touch quickly silenced her, for it took all her concentration just to continue to breathe.

Dominic held her against the wall for what could have been an eternity or mere moments, his mouth and fingers dancing over her body with intimate torture, until Ca.s.sandra shattered into a thousand pieces, her tremors of pleasure fierce and furious.

He raised his head and looked up into her face as he slowly withdrew his hand, slick with her wetness. She could only continue to gasp for breath as he reached for the b.u.t.tons of his breeches.

The intensity of his gaze transfixed her, until Ca.s.s thought she could see to his very soul. But the desperation on his face frightened her. Would they never be together again? Would this be the last time they would dance as one?

He slowly leaned his lower body to hers, just as slowly eased the hard length of him inside her. Lady Ca.s.sandra shivered.

One arm continued to support her back, while the other grasped her bottom beneath the layers of her lace skirt. He pushed her against him, raising her up and down his tall body. Up and down his hot shaft. Ca.s.s wrapped her legs tighter about him, clasped her arms more firmly about his neck, until only Dominic supported her full weight.

He moved her gently against him at first, but she could feel his struggle for control in the rigidity of his muscles. She kissed his jaw, nipped at his ear, the thought that this might be their last time together filling her with a desperate urgency of her own.

Dominic responded by increasing the tempo of their dance, until that deep longing for release built to near madness inside her. His fire magic flared to new life, no longer a shimmer of golden curtain around them. Flames twisted and throbbed, climbing over their heads, swirling about Dominic's boots, occasionally bursting in sparks of glittering yellow that fell on his shoulders, on Ca.s.sandra's brown hair.

When Dominic flung back his head and groaned with his own release, a deep pleasure throbbed within her womb, spread throughout her body in the same pattern as the golden fire that surrounded them.

He held her within his arms for a very long time.

Then he finally leaned his head down and whispered in her ear, "In case this is the last time I'm able tell you, my lady, I love you."

Tears burned in her eyes as they separated from each other, Ca.s.s adjusting her mangled hoops and smoothing down the lace of her skirts. She could not speak. Her coiffure had surprisingly stayed intact, so that by the time he dispersed their coc.o.o.n of fire Ca.s.sandra felt sure she looked quite like her normal self.

Dominic escorted her from beneath the archway of the bridge, and they casually strolled across the palace grounds as if they hadn't just spent the last hour making wild pa.s.sionate love to each other.

"And now," said her husband with an arrogant tilt to his head, "you can say it has been the best day of your life."

Sixteen.

Mor'ded summoned Lady Ca.s.sandra to his private chambers the very next morning.

Ca.s.s had been lazing about, reliving the garden party of the day before, determined to never forget one single golden moment of it... or the precious moments afterward.

Dominic had risen before dawn, brushing his lips across her cheek before he left to attend to his military duties.

Now the morning sun slanted across the foot of her bed, and Ca.s.s watched the dust motes dance in the light. She felt as if she glowed inside brighter than that sunbeam, brighter than any fire her husband could summon. For he'd told her he loved her. Not that he cared or felt protective, but that he truly loved her.

She'd never thought to hold such happiness in her heart.

Gwendolyn opened her bedroom door in such a rush that Ca.s.s sat up with a start, swallowing a yelp.

"Oh, my lady," panted Gwen, her cheeks flushed a bright pink. "There's a fearsome creature in the hall asking to see ye."

"Faith, Gwen, you startled me." Lady Ca.s.sandra fought to keep calm. "And keep your voice down, dear. You don't want to offend our visitor." Ca.s.s couldn't imagine what person would inspire such fear in Gwen, but they both performed her toilette in record time, and she walked through her apartments to the main entrance, Gwen right on her heels.

The girl hadn't exaggerated. When Ca.s.sandra opened the door, she did indeed face a creature, not a person. Crimson fire shaped a wraithlike being, with emaciated limbs and a face that constantly broke into oozing bubbles of black sludge.

"You are summoned by the Imperial Lord," said the creature, spewing flaming spittle onto the stone floor. "To his private chambers."

Ca.s.s tried to speak. Nothing articulate would come from her throat. This thing appeared more solid than anything she'd seen the courtiers produce with their meager gifts. Further proof, if she'd needed it, of the enormous power that Mor'ded could call upon.

Fortunately the creature didn't seem to need a reply. Once he'd delivered his message, he started to burn hotter, seemingly from the inside out. Both Ca.s.s and Gwen backed up, held their hands up to their faces to shield them from the wash of heat. Within seconds, the creature shriveled to black, only coa.r.s.e ash and several black smudges in the flagstone to mark the spot where he'd stood.

"Mor'ded sends a fire messenger only when he's angry at someone," whispered Gwendolyn. "Oh, my lady, ye cannot go alone! We must fetch the champion."

Ca.s.s slowly closed the door, blocking off the heat that still lingered from the creature. Dominic. Faith, no. He would only die in an attempt to protect her. Despite his belief that Mor'ded wouldn't harm her because of her supposed pregnancy, Ca.s.sandra knew the time of reckoning had come. She hadn't really thought otherwise. She just hadn't expected it to be so soon.

"No, Gwen. Say nothing of this to the general. Indeed, speak of it to no one. And If I don't return... take care of my husband with the same unquestioning loyalty you've shown me."

The girl studied her with those crystal eyes that gleamed with too much knowledge of the cruelty of the world for one so young. The panic that had shown on her face since she'd announced their messenger suddenly faded. "Before ye go, please come with me." She held out her hand.

Ca.s.s stared at the small fingers in confusion. She needed music, some rhythm to focus on to gather her skills. She doubted if she'd even have a chance to use an elven death dance, with Mor'ded alert and waiting for her, but she would not easily go like a lamb to slaughter.

"My ladyship," prodded Gwen, taking Ca.s.s's hand in her own and leading her to the servants' room.

"I have to go," whispered Ca.s.s.

"In but a moment, lady." Gwendolyn opened the door, revealing their cozy room with May seated on a chair near a small window. The older girl stood, exchanged an indecipherable look with Gwen, and then went to their wardrobe and opened the bottom drawer.

Ca.s.s snapped out of her stupor. While Gwen enjoyed socializing, Ca.s.s had understood that May preferred the solitude of her own company, her fingers always twitching with the desire to weave. So she'd kept the girl supplied with cloth and ribbons, and Lady Ca.s.sandra wore the most ornate stomachers and patterned shawls of any of the ton.

The elven lord would not care that she wore a new shawl, and Ca.s.s cared only that a st.u.r.dy leather girdle encased her waist. But when May held up her arms, the words of protest died on Ca.s.s's lips. For the girl appeared to hold nothing but air, even though she held her fingers clasped together as if she displayed a length of cloth.

"May?"

The girl smiled, a proud tilt to the angle of her lips. "'Tis a mantlet."

"Indeed." Had the girl gone mad? Did she now weave cloaks in her imagination?

Gwen tugged on Ca.s.s's sleeve. "Look closely, my lady."

Ca.s.sandra squinted. "Have you managed to weave air, May? For I see nothing but that within your hands."

May shook her blonde head. "What use would a cloak of air be? Although I hope ye don't mind that I made this, my lady. Because of yer... habits, I feared ye might need some protection." She gave a pointed glance at the younger girl. "And it seems we were correct."

Ca.s.s reined in her patience. She didn't have time for this. Only the thought that the girls meant well managed to curb her tongue. "What have you done, May?"

The servant flushed. "I have woven yer dreams."

"My dreams?"

"Oh aye. And sorry I am that I took them from ye without telling."

"She couldn't have done it without me," added Gwen. "I had to find them for her, don't ye see? And their light is faint, and they float for such a short while that we had the devil of a time catching them."

May nodded enthusiastically. "They kept trying to float away while I wove them. It took all the skill I had to bind them together."

Ca.s.s could only stare at the two girls with bewilderment while they each took a pinch of air and wrapped it about her shoulders. To her astonishment, she did feel something, a hint of weight that felt as light as the touch of a gentle breeze.

"You wove me a cloak of my dreams?" Enthusiastic nods. "And this is supposed to protect me?"

"Oh, well, we can't be too sure of that," said Gwen.

May scowled. "Of course we can. Sometimes our dreams are all that we have to protect us-isn't that right, my lady?"

"I don't know, May. I've often relied on my faith, but never my dreams." Ca.s.s hugged her own shoulders, and a wisp of memory slipped through her mind. A dream she'd once had, of a child with Dominic's pointed ears peeking through curls of her own brown hair. "But it certainly can't hurt, and I thank you for making it for me."

Two pairs of hazel eyes welled up with tears and Ca.s.s frowned.

"My dears, I'm just going to meet with my fatherin-law, nothing more." She swallowed, trying to believe her own words. Surely Mor'ded wouldn't harm her, not when he thought she carried his new champion, not when he risked alienating the ton. But she saw the burning fire through London too vividly in her mind. He'd harmed thousands of innocents with a temper tantrum because Cecily had escaped his evil hands. Had he discovered she'd helped the girl to freedom? And what would he do to her for such a transgression?

No, she would not lie to herself. Mor'ded would not send that fire creature to her very door unless he'd found out some of her secrets. She would trust her first instinct. The time had come.

Ca.s.s suppressed a shiver of fear and smiled rather shakily at her two servants. "Remember what I said, Gwendolyn. Take care of the general."

"Aye, my lady." She placed a hand on her friend's bent head. "And stop crying, May. Have a bit of faith in your weaving."

Ca.s.s spun in a swirl of silk and left the room before her servants could see the look of doubt on her face. A cloak of dreams. What chance did such a weaving stand against the power of an elven lord? Absolutely none. But if she could surprise him with a death dance...

Her footsteps made a pattern of sound on the floor, through the long hall. She crafted a song from it, one that called to her magic, made it swirl inside of her, strengthening her muscles, bringing speed and grace to her movements.

She didn't have a prayer of succeeding.

But she prayed anyway.

She'd seen the door to Mor'ded's private chambers only from a distance, a glow of gold etched with a design that had made her curious, but not enough to venture closer. As she neared she studied the engraving-a map of England, sliced like a pie into seven sovereignties, the lines radiating from a center point somewhere within Oxford. It made her wonder why the elven lords had divided their lands in that particular pattern. Perhaps Sir Robert had some theory about it.

When she raised her hand to knock, she noticed that her fist shook. Fie, she would never have the opportunity to ask the leader of the Rebellion anything.

The door flew open and the song that flooded her veins skipped a beat in response. Her eyes met Dominic's from across the room, and for a moment she didn't recognize him. Her husband stood beside his father, reminding her again that he looked like a younger version of Mor'ded. His black eyes glittered as coldly as his father's, the expression on both men's faces near identical. Very calm, very controlled rage.

And then Dominic's mouth softened and he took a half step toward her.

Her heart fell. Why was he here? He would only die trying to save her from Mor'ded's wrath... but perhaps the Imperial Lord had summoned them both together for just such a reason. A hard knot formed in her chest. She would not allow that to happen.

Ca.s.s took in the room in one sweeping glance before she curtsied, keeping her head and body lowered until the Imperial Lord gave her permission to rise. For such a large chamber, it held very little furniture, and most of it unrecognizable as such. A few flower petals shaped like chairs, a large bird-shaped piece that might be a bed, a covered desk. Plenty of room for her to maneuver. The clear rock by the balcony doors didn't trouble her, but the plant on the adjacent wall with its enormous pink pods worried her. She remembered all too clearly the suffocating vines of the plant guarding the elven garden.

"Welcome, Daughter," said Mor'ded, only a slight sneer in his calm, clear voice. "Or should I say welcome to my would-be a.s.sa.s.sin?"

Ca.s.sandra jerked upright, her heart in her throat, her gaze flying to Dominic's face.

"Oh, don't think he has the power to help you," snapped Mor'ded. "He has proven to all the court that he is but a weak human." Then he softened his voice to its usual velvet smoothness. "I will decide your fate, my dear."

Lady Ca.s.sandra raised her chin and met the elven lord's eyes squarely, determined not to look at her husband again. She didn't know what Mor'ded had discovered but she would give nothing away. Especially not the existence of the Rebellion and Sir Robert Walpole's role in it. "I'm not sure what you mean, Your Most High. I thought my fate had already been decided-to give birth to your next champion."

"Don't play the innocent with me, girl. Do you think I don't know what you've been up to?"

She tried to turn the fear that flooded her limbs into strength for her dance, but it proved too much for her and shook her legs with weakness instead. "I hardly know what you mean..."

Within a blink Dominic stood next to her, his heavy hand a welcome warmth on her shoulder. But she couldn't allow him to intercede on her behalf. She knew what awaited her when she'd taken up the vow to the Rebellion, and despite her newly found love and the promise of happiness, she would face the consequences alone.

She stepped away from her husband.

"You will not play with her as you do with me," said Dominic. "Tell us what you are accusing her of."

"You reveal her treachery as you stand before me," replied Mor'ded, rolling his scepter between his pale hands. He wore a suit of such a dark emerald green that it appeared black, mirroring the color of the abyss of his eyes. The flared skirt of the coat, the lace at his neck and sleeves, did not give him the appearance of femininity in the least. Indeed, it made the man within the costume seem ferociously male by comparison.

"She has done nothing," said Dominic, and Ca.s.s could only wince at the lie.