His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) (29 page)

All in the name of love.

It was an important lesson, one which Serena forced herself to remember. Like a beautiful exotic flower, love could dazzle and impress you with its vivid color and heady fragrance. But it was doomed to one day wither and die, and crumble to the ground like dust.

Serena did not wish to bear witness to such a thing. The very thought of one day ending up like Lady Barrow made Serena’s chest tighten with anxiety. She rubbed it with the flat of her palm, as if that could make the unsettling feeling go away.

Tired of laying abed, indulging in such maudlin thoughts, Serena flung the quilt back and set about her morning ablutions. After she washed and dressed—she chose a dark grey muslin dress sprigged with sky blue—she went downstairs to the larder. A buttermilk biscuit and a cup of steaming tea made a quaint country breakfast. She realized painfully that she was going to miss this homey little cottage very much indeed.

Soon her breakfasts would be quite different. She would go back to taking them in the breakfast room of her London townhouse, but instead of looking across the table to see Darius sipping his coffee and reading the
Times,
she would see the Duke of Balfour. It seemed impossible. And yet, the countdown had already begun.

Even if Darius wanted to extend her contract, he couldn’t. She had signed the papers. Her contract with the duke would be in force two days from now. She took a deep breath, struggling to make her mind accept it.

This was the life of a courtesan. She had known that when she took up the vocation. Then why was her heart bucking against her like a stubborn stallion?

Serena grabbed her plaid wool shawl from its hook near the door. With an angry movement, as if the shawl were to blame for everything, she swept it around her shoulders and stalked outside into the yard. The air had grown cooler in the past few days. She would probably freeze out here. And yet, in a perverse way, she welcomed such discomfort. It would take her mind off the tension that tortured her soul.

A walk would do her good. It would keep her mind off her unsettled emotions and allow her to regain some much-needed control.

She set out down the little path at a brisk pace, heading toward the main grounds. Breathing in the clean, crisp air, Serena took in the vast surroundings of Manning Park. Vividly colored autumn leaves danced in the breeze, dazzling against the bright blue sky. Fallen leaves crackled beneath her boots as she walked, releasing a comforting, earthy aroma which lifted Serena’s spirits a little. Autumn was her favorite season. The myriad colors of the leaves never failed to amaze her, each one a masterpiece of nature.

She spotted a folly beside the lake, a short distance off the path. Shaped like a small round temple, the brilliant white stone made a welcoming picture in the surrounding landscape. The structure was completely open to the air and only provided shelter from rain or sun. But there was a bench inside upon which one could sit and enjoy a lovely view of the lake. Yes, that would soothe her troubled heart.

As Serena neared the temple, she was startled to see another party approaching from beyond a boxlike hedgerow.

A silver-haired woman of regal bearing strolled along the path, with a maid accompanying her. The lady wore a walking dress of deep plum with black trim, complete with matching bonnet and gloves.

Though Serena had never set eyes on the woman before, she knew it could be only one person—the Dowager Countess of Kane.

Darius’s mother.

The woman stopped dead in her tracks, having spied Serena on the path before her. She raised her quizzing glass and peered at Serena from where she stood. Her eyes, which were as icy-blue as Darius’s, narrowed into a scowl. Without even looking at her maid, she commanded, “Go back and wait for me by the hedgerow, Gosling. This won’t take long.”

The young woman looked confused, but quickly curtsied. “Yes, my lady.” She hurried off back in the direction from whence they came.

Serena had no idea what was coming, but instinct told her it was not good. She stood tall and prepared herself for battle.

“So, you are the little whore who has my son wrapped around her finger,” Lady Kane said.

Serena stiffened at the woman’s hostile words. “I am a courtesan, ma’am. There is a difference.”

Lady Kane waved her gloved hand dismissively. “There is no difference, and even if there were, I shall not stoop so low as to debate the point with you.”

Serena took a deep breath, vowing to control her temper in this woman’s presence.

Lady Kane approached Serena, looking her up and down, as if she were appraising goods in a shop. “I have heard much about you, Miss Ransom, which unfortunately for any self-respecting noblewoman, would be too much. Looking upon your person—your shabby clothes and unruly hair—I wonder how a woman of your vocation keeps herself employed. I had heard that the Telford Whore was quite a beauty. But you are nothing to sneeze at. Quite uninspiring.”

She circled Serena slowly, studying her through the quizzing glass. “You are not the first woman my son has brought to the cottage, you know. And I daresay you won’t be the last.”

Serena’s throat tightened painfully at Lady Kane’s words. Though why it should bother her was a mystery. In a few days, she would leave Darius to be with another man.

Lady Kane turned abruptly, her eyes blazing contemptuously at Serena. “How much have you taken him for?”

“I beg your pardon?” Serena said.

“The money, the jewels?” Lady Kane demanded. “How much have you stolen from my son?”

Now it was Serena’s turn to narrow her gaze. “I have stolen nothing from Lord Kane, and I resent the accusation.”

“Resent it if you will,” Lady Kane replied. “But I want to know how much of our fortune he’s frittered away on you.”

“
Your
fortune?” Serena asked incredulously. “Until a little over a year ago it was Miss Barton’s—hers and her father’s. If that isn’t stealing I don’t know what is.”

Lady Kane gasped, standing back. “How dare you!”

“How dare I? You are the one who pressured your son into marrying for money. My God, Darius prostituted himself for you!” Serena paraphrased Chaucer: “‘
Those that live in glass houses should not throw stones
,’ Lady Kane. And if it were not for Darius putting aside his own hopes and dreams, the only house you would be living in, madam, would be the tenant’s down the lane.”

Lady Kane’s face turned white with rage. “You vile creature!”

“The truth is often vile,” Serena continued. “Or ugly or terrifying. Because we cannot control it. And no matter how hard we try to ignore it, the truth remains. Perhaps you should take a few moments to meditate upon that fact. I bid you good-day.”

Serena turned her back on the Dowager Countess of Kane and walked away.

“Come back here, you ungrateful little strumpet!” Lady Kane called behind her. “I am not finished with you!”

Serena kept walking, ignoring the ranting woman on the path behind her. “But I am most certainly finished with you,” Serena muttered under her breath.

She would go home to the little cottage, make herself a pot of tea, and read in the window seat until Darius arrived.

As she neared the place she had called home for almost three weeks, she sighed in relief. She could almost smell the comforting Ceylon tea wafting up to tease her nose as it steeped.

Serena pushed open the front door and walked inside the little foyer. Almost immediately, she sensed that something was wrong, somehow. Tension hung in the air like a breath of smoke.

Then she saw him.

“Darius?”

He turned slowly, looking through the doorway of the parlor at her, his eyes dark and dangerous. A note of paper hung from his hand. He held it aloft,his voice accusing as he demanded, “What the hell is this?”

Chapter 23

“In order to make the transition from one protector to another as smooth as possible, it is best not to speak about one to the other. As men are jealous creatures by nature, such discussions should be avoided at all costs.”

–from
Memoirs of a Courtesan, by Lady Night

Darius clenched his hand into a fist, the paper crinkling between his fingers as he waited for Serena to answer him.

It didn’t help his mood to see that his mistress looked ravishing. The fresh air and natural surroundings of Manning Park made her appear somehow like a wild faerie, free and full of passion. Serena’s cheeks were flushed from her walk out of doors, her auburn tresses falling in loose, windblown curls from the loose bun on top of her head.

Darius’s gut tightened and burned with jealousy as he struggled to keep his temper in check.

“Did you hear me?” he asked.

Serena stood silently, her expression shuttered. “Yes. I heard you.”

“Then why don’t you answer?”

“It seems that you already know what you hold in your hands, my lord,” she replied. “A letter from the Duke of Balfour. My next protector. Surely, you do not need me to explain it to you as you have obviously read it.”

Darius cast the letter to the floor, anger seething through his veins. “That is where we disagree, Serena. I see that the note is from Balfour, but I do not see that he is your next protector. The very suggestion is repulsive.”

Serena took a few tentative steps into the room, bending down to pick up the mangled note. She hastily stowed it in her pocket. “I wish you had not read that, Darius.”

“Why? You do not wish me to see the correspondence between you and your lover?” he demanded.

“He is not my lover.”

“Not yet.”

“No, not yet,” Serena said quietly.

“Not ever.” Darius stalked across the room to the cupboard and pulled out a goblet and bottle of brandy. He slammed the heavy crystal on top of the cupboard, pouring the amber liquid into the vessel. Throwing his head back to ease its passage down his throat, he swallowed the brandy all in one shot. He pointed the empty glass toward Serena, accusingly. “Not as long as I have breath in my body. Of that, you can be sure.”

A pained expression clouded Serena’s face. “Please. I beg of you. Do not make this more difficult than it already is.”

“Make what more difficult?” he asked. “Your departure? I am not making it difficult, because there shan’t be a departure. You will stay here at Manning Park with me for the winter. We shall return to Town in the Spring. And that is an end to it.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, my love,” she said quietly.

The endearment caused his heart to skip. She had never called him that before, and he hated himself for how those words affected him. “Of course it’s simple,” he said finally. “Nothing could be simpler. And after last night, I’m surprised you could even suggest such a thing.”

Last night with Serena had been incredible. He had never felt anything so intense, so magical, or joyous. She had truly let him inside her heart, for the first time ever. And it was a place he never wanted to leave.

The thought of another man touching Serena, let alone bedding her, made bile rise in Darius’s throat. Last night as he’d cradled her in his arms, everything had become dazzlingly clear to him. With his actions that night at Telford House, and in the weeks leading up to it, he hadn’t simply been lusting after Serena Ransom. He had been unable to keep himself away from her because she was the true mate of his soul.

Though at that time, his mind had accepted the necessity of marrying Henrietta for his family’s sake, his soul had never acquiesced. His heart had reached out to Serena because it needed her in order to be whole. And it wasn’t going to let a little thing like his marriage to another woman stand in its way.

Serena gazed up at him, her dazzling green eyes deep with emotion. “After last night, there is more reason than ever to end our liaison, Darius.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Forgive me if I do not see the logic of your argument. Usually, when two people discover that they are in love, they want to plan a future together. Not abruptly end the affair.”

“You knew this was coming,” Serena pointed out.

“I didn’t think you were serious about leaving. I still do not believe it.” He cupped her shoulders and pulled her against him. He searched her face like a desperate man, trying to understand this strange language she was speaking. It did not make sense to him. “I see what you are doing now, love. You are punishing me for my past sins against you. I suppose you have every right to torment me, now. I will submit to your torture. But assure me that it will be over soon, and you will tell me what I need to hear. That you will stay with me forever.”

He gazed down at the woman in his arms, watched her shake her head slowly, then take a wobbly step away from him. She moved awkwardly, like a marionette on uneven strings.

His heart plummeted like a struck bird as his mind tried to grasp the horrible truth.

Serena still meant to leave him.

In two days’ time, she would be in the arms of another man. The Duke of Balfour—Darius’s most reviled enemy.

“Why are you doing this?” he rasped.

“Even if I was not under contract to the duke, I would have to leave,” she said, sitting on the edge of the sofa and staring ahead blankly. “You see, I have done a terrible thing. In the courtesan’s world, it is the most grievous crime imaginable. I have fallen in love with my protector.”