As expected, the sound made the animal flee.
“Have you gone completely mad?” he hissed, carefully lowering his weapon.
“You were about to kill it!” she replied, facing him with blazing eyes.
She had to be mad.
“That is thepointof a stag hunt—to kill the stag,” he snapped.
“Abarbaricpoint,” she retorted.
Then, she stepped closer—undaunted, unflinching. Dominic realized at once that she was no vagrant seeking shelter in the woods. Her gown, though muddied at the hem from wandering through the damp forest, was of fine make and elegant cut. She looked like she was in her early twenties, with soft brown curls tumbling about her face and wide hazel eyes that held more fire than fear.
“Did you just risk your life for a deer?” Dominic asked, his tone incredulous as he studied her with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.
“Someone has to,” she replied, lifting her chin in defiance. “Who else would stand in the way when those who should care don’t even see the harm?”
He raised an eyebrow, not hiding his amusement. “And here I thought a lady like you would be too delicate to rush headlong into danger.”
“I am not delicate, Sir,” she shot back with a sharp glance. “I simply have better sense than most.”
Dominic couldn’t help but smirk, his voice lowering as he leaned in slightly. “Aren’t you being a bit reckless, then? For a deer?”
“If you’re suggesting I ought to care more for my own life than an animal’s,” she said, her tone cutting through the air, “then you are wasting your breath, my lord.”
He regarded her for a long moment, studying her with an expression of mild exasperation. “No doubt you believe your noble cause, but do you always throw yourself in harm’s way like this?”
“Before you send for a carriage to cart me off to a madhouse,” she replied, undeterred, “let me make one thing clear: I do it only when necessary.”
He blinked, half-amused, half-frustrated. “I’m trying to understand how a lady like you can be so… reckless.” He eyed her dress, her delicate features, her defiance, and frowned. “Andyet here you are, so well-dressed, throwing yourself in front of weapons.”
“Do you like my dress?” she asked, a sly grin pulling at her lips.
“That’s not the point. It seems a touch hypocritical, doesn’t it? To live in luxury and then preach against hunting. People hunt for food, not sport.” His tone was teasing, but there was a serious edge underneath it.
“I’m not talking about them,” she shot back. “I’m talking about you—who does this for sport.”
“I don’t hunt for sport,” he said, his voice firm, almost challenging. “I hunt to claim what’s mine.”
Her laughter was bitter, but her eyes darted toward him, uncertain. She hugged herself, her fingers trembling slightly.
Dominic stepped closer, his gaze sharp. “You’re trembling. Do you know what that does to a hunter?”
He heard her breath hitch, and he could not help but watch her body shake with the aftershocks of her brush with death. Her fear, which she continued to deny, made him want to close in on her. It made her vulnerable. It made herinteresting.
“Are you going to kiss him, Marianne?” a young voice piped up behind him.
How could he have let two people catch him unawares today?
He turned around at almost the same moment the young woman—apparently called Marianne—did.
A girl stood there, wearing the most mischievous grin he had ever seen on a member of the supposed weaker sex.
Marianne’s face was bright red when she replied to the girl, “Victoria! I have been looking everywhere for you!”
“Then you are not a good tracker. I was following you.”
“Your sister?” Dominic inquired, raising an eyebrow.