His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) (8 page)

“It’s the Fashionable Hour. Shall we head over to Hyde Park and see who’s about?” Havelock asked. “We just might see your courtesan there.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Darius said. Once sitting atop the phaeton, they made their way into the heavy traffic. Darius steered the matching pair of blacks as easily as if his was the only vehicle on the road.

It had been days since he’d made his offer to Serena, and he’d heard nothing from her. Though he hated to admit it, he’d been more than a little surprised by her silence. And angered. And frustrated, to boot.

He’d made her a damned good offer. He knew she had felt the heat between them just as he did, just as they had together that night at the Telford Ball. Nothing had changed in that area.

No other woman had ever affected him like Serena Ransom. He’d had other lovers—beautiful, imaginative and arousing. Yet, none of those women could compare with the desire Serena ignited in him. There was something indescribable about her, a mixture of innocence and fiery passion that made a man want to possess her completely.

The intensity of his desire for her had been so strong two years ago, it had caused Serena’s complete and utter ruination. The sad thing was, Darius had known exactly how dangerous it had been for her during their forbidden liaisons. He’d known how easily her reputation could have been ruined, but he hadn’t cared. He’d taken chances he knew he shouldn’t have, pulling her into darkened libraries to taste her lips, ducking behind a statue in a dimly lit garden to trail kisses down her neck. She’d been like a drug to him, addictive and impossible to resist.

It had all caught up with them, however, that fateful night at the Telford Ball. And though Serena thought herself the only one who’d paid a price for their association, she was quite wrong about that. He had paid a price as well.

God had punished him quite severely for his sins and left him in a state of shame and regret, longing for Serena, even when he had been forced to marry another. And because of what had become of Serena, Darius had hated himself. His marriage had been a sham, painful for everyone involved. Now, Darius wanted nothing more than to make amends somehow, with the one woman who could deliver him from Hell.

Serena
.

If he was a devil, then she was his angel. And he meant to have her this time—to be her lover and protector, as he should have been two years ago, instead of abandoning her as he had.

At the club, he’d heard rumors that the Duke of Balfour had made Serena a significant offer as well. Apparently, bets were being placed on which of them would win the beautiful courtesan for their own. Havelock reported that right now, odds-makers put Darius and the duke neck and neck. It could go either way.

But Darius didn’t like those odds, because the prize was not something he wished to lose—for not only did he want Serena back in his arms, he needed his atonement.

Soon he was turning the phaeton onto Rotten Row, the crush of traffic in Hyde Park as busy if not worse than the congested roads of the city surrounding them. Everyone who was anyone in London came here to be seen, between the hours of four-thirty and seven. Lovely ladies walked about, showing off their fancy promenade dresses and plumed hats in every color of the rainbow.

Here and there, carriages stopped so that their passengers might have a quick chat with someone they knew, and gossip about those they didn’t. Bucks and dandies sat astride prancing geldings, and flirted shamelessly with every woman between the ages of eighteen and eighty. Even the gentry’s horses sported fancy accoutrements, their manes adorned with colored bows and ribbons.

Darius scanned the crowd, changing his grip on the reins to steer the lightweight vehicle through the throng. For a moment, his thoughts turned to Henrietta, his late wife. He’d taken her here early on during their marriage, to show her off, as new husbands were expected to do. He had genuinely tried to be a good husband to her, even if he hadn’t returned her feelings of true love.

At least that was what she had called it.
True love
.

Looking back, Darius wasn’t so sure. He remembered the expression in her eyes as she’d gazed up at him with rage and contempt. That had been about the time everything went sour, when Henrietta revealed her true self to him.

And so began the jealousy and accusations, the irrational demands, and the selfish, violent acts of vengeance, which he could do nothing to assuage, no matter how hard he tried.

If that was what true love did to a person, Darius thought, he wanted no part of it. Either giving or receiving. Life was much simpler—and more enjoyable—without the complications of the human heart to muddle things up.

Of one thing he was certain. He did not want another wife. And though he had a duty to carry on the family line, the price for that now seemed too steep.

But there was certainly room in his life for passion. And for making amends.

Thank goodness his dear mother was away from Town at Manning Park, their family estate. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

And right now, Darius was glad his mother didn’t know he was in Hyde Park, seeking out a woman he was determined to make his own personal courtesan. And spend a lot of money doing so—because his future courtesan certainly deserved it, for what he had put her through. If he could, he would hand over his entire fortune to her, if she would only accept it.

“Do you see her anywhere, Hav?” Darius asked. Havelock had eyes as keen as an eagle’s, one of the many skills that had made him such an invaluable partner during the wars. He could spot a French cuirassier from five hundred yards away. Of course, his quarry today was much prettier than the average soldier in Napoleon’s army.

Havelock glanced about as they traveled slowly through the crowd. “Oh look—there’s Lord and Lady Secord with their twin daughters, Eustacia and Euphemia. And there is the Dowager Duchess Melbyrne. You know, she’s still quite sprightly for a woman of seventy-two. Not bad looking either. And quite rich.”

Darius chuckled. “Are you saying you’d like to pay court to Her Grace?”

“I learned long ago not to rule anything out,” Havelock said, grinning. “And there is the Duke of Balfour astride his prize white stallion. He actually had the audacity to name the animal ‘Boney.’ As if Balfour himself had anything to do with routing Napoleon’s army.”

“Is Serena with him?” Darius squinted, but couldn’t make out who the duke was talking to.

“No, I believe that is the Countess of Tavington he is addressing,” Havelock replied.

“Is he getting a word in edgewise?” Darius asked.

Lady Tavington was known to rarely take a breath, as that would interfere with the speed of her discourse.

“It doesn’t appear so.”

“Good, a perfect time for us to find Serena without Balfour hanging about and making a nuisance of himself.” Darius was growing impatient. He needed to know why Serena hadn’t responded to his offer yet.

Plus, he simply wanted to see her again.

“I think…just a moment…can it be?” Havelock muttered.

“Damnation, man, is it her?”

“I think I see Lady Devlyn’s landau over there. Do you see it? It’s being pulled by a team of greys. And sitting ever so prettily beside Lady D is the woman in question, Miss Serena Ransom.”

Darius scanned the crowd quickly, then he felt his mood darken considerably—for the landau Serena sat in was surrounded by a throng of gentlemen, all vying for her attention.

“Lady Devlyn was right,” Havelock said. “Serena is causing quite the sensation, as are all three of her protégée’s. Though I can see that the ladies of the
ton
don’t share their husbands’ enthusiasm for the Courtesan Club.”

Serena and her lady-friends were indeed causing quite a stir among members of the
ton
. For however excited the faces of the gentlemen were to see them, their ladies’ faces were equally as sour. However, because they dared not argue with their husbands in public, the wives were being forced to watch as their spouses fawned openly over the beautiful courtesans in Lady Devlyn’s luxurious landau.

And beautiful they were. Each one seemed to possess a confidence and ease of being that eluded their admirers’ wives. Serena and her friends’ promenade dresses looked to be exquisitely tailored, and made of expensive French fabrics and trims which were not available in London.

The gossip was that Lady Devlyn employed the best seamstress in Paris, who was under contract to guarantee all of her most exclusive fabrics to Lady Devlyn and Lady Devlyn alone. If the Courtesan Club was trying to make an enemy out of every woman in London, they had done so merely by their enviable wardrobes.

Darius felt a primal reaction when he gazed upon Serena, as she favored each admirer with a dazzling smile, granting each thrilled gentleman a few precious moments of her undivided attention.

The truth of the matter was, the ladies of London could not compete with the Courtesan Club. The trio were celebrities now, and they could have their pick of London’s richest and most powerful men.

Darius wanted to applaud them for daring to thumb their noses at convention, for making their own rules, and for refusing to bow to society’s staid opinions. These women promised more than unforgettable passion. They were a breath of fresh air in an aristocracy that desperately needed shaking up.

Which was why everyone wanted to be in their company.

These women were unafraid of life, of love, of passion.

Darius pulled the phaeton as close to the throng as he safely could, watching as Serena graciously accepted yet another compliment from a dazzled onlooker.

“I say, Lady Sterling is quite fetching, isn’t she?” Havelock said, wistfully. “If only I was as rich as you, Dare, I might make her an offer when the time comes.”

But Darius was completely focused on Serena. He pulled the horses to a stop, standing up in the phaeton, legs wide in order to keep his balance. Serena caught the movement, and turned to look at the new admirer who had arrived to pay tribute.

Everyone in the crowd craned their necks to see what could have captured the beautiful courtesan’s attention.

“My Lord Kane,” she said coolly. “You are looking well.”

“Thank you, Miss Ransom,” he replied. “As are you. You remember Major Price?”

“Of course.” Serena inclined her head with all the majesty of a queen. “Major.”

The group exchanged more pleasantries and introductions, all under the curious gaze of the watching crowd.

Darius had to be very careful regarding his next move, for it might backfire in his face.

“Miss Ransom, have you ever ridden in a phaeton before?” Darius asked, keeping his eyes trained on Serena’s.

“I have not,” she said. “Why do you ask?

“I should very much enjoy giving you a ride
,”
he said, his voice layered with meaning. “Unless of course, you are afraid of a little excitement.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Darius stared back calmly and waited for her to take the bait.

“Am I to understand, Lord Kane…that you think I am afraid to take a ride in your phaeton?” Serena demanded.

“There is only one way to find out.” He turned to Havelock. “Get out, Price.”

“Hmm? Oh, you mean
me
.” Havelock had been off in another world, gazing at the beautiful Lady Sterling. He stepped down from the phaeton and quickly took on the role of competent major. “Miss Ransom, may I assist you into Lord Kane’s vehicle?”

Serena paused while Lady Devlyn whispered something in her ear. She gave her benefactress a meaningful look, then stood up in the landau. “Yes, Major Price, you may.”

Havelock made his way through the crowd to the landau, opened the hitch on the door and pulled down the step, reaching up to take Serena’s gloved hand. He helped her down, and in moments she alighted into the vehicle. Darius sat down on the leather seat beside Serena, taking in the delicate floral scent of her, which had a heady effect on his senses.

Lady Devlyn graciously invited Havelock into the landau while he waited for Darius’s return. His friend seemed more than pleased to be sitting next to Lady Sterling. Darius gave him a nod and turned the horses away from the crowd, steering the phaeton back toward Rotten Row.

“Your companions are safe with Major Price,” Darius said. “But the question is, is he safe with them?”

Serena glared at him. “And what about me? Am I safe with you this time?”

He gave a wicked smile and asked, “What do
you
think, Serena? Are you brave enough to find out?”

Chapter 5

“Some women compare men to snakes; But the consummate courtesan must remember that while their poison can kill, a snake can also be charmed.”

–from Memoirs of a Courtesan by Lady Night

Serena kept her temper in check as the phaeton rolled along Rotten Row at a moderate pace. There were still too many other vehicles on the roads to go much faster, which was fine with her. Darius obviously thought to take her on a fast-paced ride, which would require her to hang onto him or risk falling out. It was an old trick men sometimes employed to get close to a lady, but she didn’t want to get any closer to Darius Manning than was absolutely necessary. She scooted closer to the far edge of the seat.