“I am protecting you, Serena. One day you will understand that.”
She turned her attention to the passing scenery. “Well, it had better be one day soon, as we only have a little over twenty more together. Not that I’m counting.”
“If you knew the duke as I did, you would be running in the other direction,” Darius said, crossly.
She sighed. “Oh, let us not quarrel. It is none of your concern, anyway. Please do not worry about my personal affairs.”
“That is a difficult thing you ask, Serena,” he said. “Once a man knows a woman as intimately as I know you, he feels somewhat responsible for her. You’ve taken me inside your body, held me there, pleasuring me in the most intimate ways a man can be. A bond like that is not easily broken.”
“Actually, a bond like that will be broken rather soon,” she stated.
“I am not so sure,” Darius replied.
“You think to change my mind by bringing me here to your estate?”
“Perhaps,” he said.
Serena gave him a dismissive glance. “So far I have seen nothing that would change my mind.”
“Not yet,” Darius echoed, his mouth curving with the hint of a grin.
Serena wondered what he could possibly have in store for her. “You do not accept defeat easily, do you, Darius?”
“I do not accept it, period,” he replied, flatly.
“Well you had better begin to entertain the idea,” Serena said.
“So had you, my dear.”
Serena slapped the carriage seat in frustration, saying, “Arguing with you is like arguing with a brick wall.”
“Exactly,” he agreed. “If you were smart, you’d stop such nonsense at once.”
Serena huffed in annoyance.
The carriage turned onto a clearing.
Darius said, “Ah, we have arrived. This shall be our home for the next few weeks, Serena. I hope you will enjoy it.”
Serena craned her head to get a look, but Darius’s massive body blocked her view as he alighted from the carriage. Concentrating on her footing, Serena did not look about until she was safely standing on the ground. When she did, her breath was quite taken away.
A cottage stood nestled in a grove of trees, looking for all the world like something out of a fairy tale. A stone chimney stood at the side of the house, somehow having been fashioned to look like the trunk of a tree. Branches and leaves were painted on the stone facade, curling around the sweet little windows like arms in an embrace. Vines and flowers adorned the other side of the house. It was unlike anything Serena had ever seen.
“Welcome to Hawthorn Cottage,” Darius said.
“I confess, I am quite astounded,” Serena replied. She walked about, taking in the painstaking craftsmanship, as well as the whimsical nature of the structure. In front, a little garden—now littered with fall leaves—was surrounded by a charming white picket fence.
“Would you like to see the interior?” Darius asked, holding out his hand.
Serena nodded, following him in through the front door, which was shaped like a keyhole. They passed through the small foyer, into a cozy drawing room. Plush furniture seemed to beckon one to sit down and open a book, a shelf of which stood across the room, full of volumes. An assortment of knick-knacks decorated the fireplace mantel.
Darius beckoned Serena to follow him, and he took her into a quaint little dining room painted sunny yellow. The kitchen was well-appointed, with brass pots and pans hanging over a central counter.
“Where are the servants?” Serena asked.
“There aren’t any.”
“Who is going to do the cooking, then? Me?” she asked.
Darius grinned. “No, me.”
“You!” Serena couldn’t believe her ears. “You must be joking.”
“I am quite serious.”
“Ah. You mean to poison me, then,” Serena said.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Darius replied. “I’ll have you know I was quite the cook in the Peninsula. While Havelock and I were sneaking about Portugal and Spain gathering intelligence for Wellington, we couldn’t exactly bring along a personal chef. If I had relied upon Major Price’s cooking, they would have buried us long ago.”
Serena laughed. “Will you be doing my laundry as well?”
“No,” he said. “I have arranged for one of the farmer’s wives to come each morning and take away what needs to be done. She will also bring us foodstuffs for the day.”
“Well, you seem to have thought of everything,” Serena said, following him upstairs.
There was only one bedroom, tastefully decorated in sky blue. A four-poster bed dominated the room, giving it a masculine atmosphere. Across the hall was a room for attending to ones’ needs.
“Won’t your mother be wondering what you are doing here, night after night?” Serena asked, raising a brow.
Darius simply shrugged.
“Oh, I see,” she mused. “This is where you have brought your other lovers, and your family is quite accustomed to the habit.” Serena curled a hand around a thick column of the bed frame, and met Darius’ piercing eyes.
“Does that bother you?” he asked.
“Why should it?” Serena answered. “I am simply one in a long line of lovers you have had and will have in the future.”
Darius walked slowly toward her, his eyes full of desire. He reached out a strong hand to circle her waist and pull her toward him. “That is where you are wrong, Serena. I will have no other lover than you.”
His mouth hovered inches away from hers, sending a bolt of heat to her belly, and then below.
“That will be difficult when I become courtesan to the Duke of Balfour,” Serena said, taunting him.
Darius’ eyes grew dark with displeasure. “Tread carefully, my dear. A smart woman does not poke a lion with a stick. And that is exactly what you are doing when you suggest such a thing to me.”
Leisurely, he lowered his hand to possessively cup a breast. “I am your protector. Now, and for the next three weeks, you are mine. Isn’t that what our contract states?”
Serena closed her eyes as he teased the tip of her breast with his thumb. Damn him, but he was right. There were certain things she’d be within her rights to refuse, of course, but the fact remained that she had offered herself as a sexual partner to Darius, in exchange for monetary compensation. She was as bound to that contract as he was to pay her what he’d promised. For the first time in the months they’d been together, Serena felt that Darius had achieved the upper hand.
And she didn’t like it one bit.
“Isn’t that what it states, Serena?” He dipped his mouth to her neck and trailed hot kisses there.
“Yes,” she said, fighting to control her shaky breath.
He held her face in his hands and whispered, “I am going to bind you to me, and if I have to use my body to enslave you, I will.” He kissed her mouth, his tongue teasing and tempting her. “And when I finally take you to the ultimate pinnacle of passion, your soul will open to me, and I will claim it as I’ve claimed the rest of you.”
Serena bit her lip as he dipped his head to kiss the other side of her neck. She hated when Darius talked like that. Because though she was a trained courtesan, part of her feared that what he predicted might come true. If it did, not only her career would be destroyed…she herself would be.
She could not let that happen.
She would not let that happen.
Then why did she feel weak as a kitten when Darius took her into his arms?
As Serena surrendered to the physical sensations he stirred within her, three more weeks with him seemed like a very long time indeed.
Chapter 16
“The courtesan may enjoy pleasure for pleasure’s sake, but must guard against becoming too fond of one man’s style of lovemaking. For if she let’s herself enjoy it too much, she may find herself ensnared in her own web, unable to break free….”
–from Memoirs of a Courtesan,
by Lady Night
“Let me go,” she said weakly, pressing her palms against the wall of his chest.
“No.” He pulled her closer and kissed her again, his lips more demanding as he took his pleasure there.
Serena wanted to curse him, but she couldn’t break away from his damnably sensuous mouth, and how it so effortlessly aroused her desire.
Hot little tendrils of passion snaked over her skin, making her hungry for more. All of a sudden, her clothes felt too heavy, too restricting. She wished she was naked, so that Darius could have free rein, touching her where he pleased. She could curse Darius to the skies, but the damnable truth of the matter was that he had wonderful hands, and he knew how to use them to excite and pleasure her until she was breathless and drained.
He unbuttoned the neck of her pelisse, pushing it open. His hands caressed her breasts through the thin muslin of her dress, the fabric an unwanted barrier between her flesh and the rough heat of his hands.
Serena tried to ignore the sweet ache that was building between her legs. She longed for him to reach under her skirts and touch her there, longed for him to slowly stoke the fire of her arousal until it was a blinding madness only he could satisfy.
“Who is that lady?” a little voice asked, breaking the spell.
Suddenly, Darius released Serena from his embrace so abruptly that she nearly fell over.
“And why did Uncle Darius push her away?” another little voice asked. “Is she a mean lady?”
Two little faces peeked around the door from the hallway. A sandy-haired boy of about five years, and a girl with the same features and height, regarded Serena with curiosity.
“Evan…and Annabelle. Where is your mother?” Darius asked crossly.
Serena quickly buttoned up her pelisse and smoothed her skirts, struggling to calm her racing pulse.
“She is right here—oh! I’m sorry, am I interrupting?”
Lady Caroline Ware appeared in the doorway behind her children.
Serena felt herself suck in a breath at the sight of her old friend. “Caro….”
The emotion in her friend’s eyes told her that she had missed Serena as well. They had become fast friends during that first Season, meeting at the same balls and assemblies, and sharing shopping trips to Bond Street.
Lady Caroline, already married to the dashing Sir Christopher Ware, had introduced Serena to her brother, Darius. After the Telford scandal, Caro had been forced to abandon Serena to face the wrath of the ton alone. She was, after all, wife to a Member of Parliament.
Caro’s abandonment had been but another knife in Serena’s heart, though she had guessed that Sir Christopher had been the one pulling Caroline’s strings. It would be too much to bear to think that dear Caro would have forsaken Serena of her own accord. Still, the memory hurt.
If it were possible, the dark-haired Caro was even lovelier than Serena remembered, looking effortlessly splendid in a walking dress of pale green muslin with a dark green spenser. She seemed out of breath, most likely from chasing the children. Her cheeks were rosy, but her eyes sparkled—the same sapphire blue eyes as her brother.
“Serena, you know my sister, of course,” Darius said. “May I present her children, Mr. Evan Ware, and his twin sister, Miss Annabelle Ware.”
Serena supposed that mistresses such as she were not usually introduced to family members. But she had been an acquaintance, and more so, a friend of Caro’s once. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ware, Miss Ware.”
Caroline smiled at Serena and then, unable to stop herself, quickly crossed the room to embrace her. “It is so good to see you, Serena.” She pulled away, dabbing at her eyes, which now shone with tears.
Seeing such emotion so openly expressed took Serena aback. The pain in her chest intensified until she, too, felt tears prick her eyes, which was a shock in itself. She had not cried since that unfortunate business two years ago.
Annabelle appeared next to Darius and tugged on his trouser leg. “But who is that lady? Is she your new wife?”
“I hope so, Uncle,” Evan said. “She’s much prettier than your other one.”
“Evan!” Caroline admonished. “Do not speak so about your late Aunt Henrietta.”
The little boy gaped up at his mother, innocently. “But it’s true, Mama. You and Papa taught me to always tell the truth.”
Caroline looked uncomfortable, not knowing what to say regarding her son’s observation.
“It is difficult to argue with the child’s logic,” Darius said, ruffling his nephew’s hair. “You and Christopher have taught both your children to always be truthful, and so you should. It is a noble way to live.”
Darius looked down at the little girl beside him, still tugging on his trouser leg. Though he was trying to keep a forbidding expression, it fell away to one of mischievous joy as he swept her up into his arms and tossed her lightly into the air. Annabelle squealed in glee.
“Dare! Please do be careful. Heavens, you’re almost as bad as they are,” his sister warned.
He hugged his niece close. “To answer your question, Bella, no—this beautiful lady is not my wife. She is a friend, though, of both mine and your mother’s.”
“Is she going to be staying in the cottage? And may we come to visit her every day?” Evan asked excitedly.
“I am not sure about every day,” Darius said. “Miss Ransom might be busy.”
“Doing what?” the little boy asked.
Caroline pulled him close to her skirts. “Do not ask so many questions, Evan.”
“Why not?” he asked.
His mother made a sound of exasperation and looked at Serena, shaking her head. “With his father away in the West Indies, I have found it a challenge to answer all of Evan’s myriad of questions about everything and everyone. The only thing for certain is that tomorrow, he will have more.”
Serena couldn’t help but smile. “He is a boy with an inquisitive mind. He does you proud, Caro. And your lovely daughter, as well.”
Darius placed the daughter in question back on her feet and patted her head when she begged him to pick her up again. Serena couldn’t blame her. It was a wonderful feeling, to be wrapped in Darius’s strong arms.
The child was lucky to have a man like Darius in her life who would pick her up and hug her. Perhaps her father, Sir Christopher, did the same. Serena’s father had certainly never bothered with such sentimental nonsense.
“Darius wrote to me about your visit,” Caroline said. “How long will you be staying on the estate?”
“Three weeks,” Serena replied.
“Oh… I see. And then you will return to London?”
Serena gave Darius a pointed look before replying curtly, “Yes. I have other business there which cannot be put off.”
The Duke of Balfour.
“That is a shame, now that we’ve only just been reacquainted,” Caro remarked. “But we shall make the most of your visit, while you are here. And you can always return to us when your business in London is concluded.”
Serena gave a faint smile. She didn’t want to tell her friend that such an event would be highly unlikely after she became the Duke of Balfour’s courtesan.
Darius said firmly, “Yes, well, we are here now, and here is where we will stay.”
“For the present,” Serena added.
He took Serena’s hand and kissed the back of it. “A keen observation, for the present is all we truly have.”
She smiled at him serenely. She would not let him goad her into an argument in front of his sister and her children.
The children had tired of being in one spot for more than a few minutes and headed downstairs in search of something more interesting. Darius followed Caroline and Serena as they descended the staircase to the first floor. As they came to the bottom of the curved stairs, Caroline looked back at Serena, and asked, “Did Darius tell you about the cottage’s origins?”
“He did not.”
“He built it when
he was a young man of seventeen.”
“Really?” Serena tried not to sound too impressed.
“Practically by himself,” Caroline explained. “Of course, the roof was a challenge. Father wanted to help, but he was mostly crippled by then. So he had old Martins push him down here in his reclining chair, all the way from the Hall in order to watch you build it. Didn’t he, Dare?”
“So he did,” her brother said, quietly.
They had reached the first floor and moved into the parlor, Caroline craning her neck to see her children as they played in the yard outside.
“Father was a great student of architecture, among other things,” she explained to Serena. “He is the one who designed the landscapes and vistas on the grounds here at Manning Park.” Seeing Serena’s surprised expression, she asked, “Did you not know of those? Oh, my brother will have to take you about, and show you our pastoral treasures.”
“I am planning on it, Caro,” Darius said.
“The children and I ramble about the grounds each day,” she continued, “taking in the visual splendor that Father worked so hard at creating. There are the Roman Ruins, the Grotto, the Chinese Pavilion and Bridge, as well as a Turkish Tent. You may have glimpsed some of them on the road.”
Serena nodded, intrigued.
“There are also the unfinished follies,” Caroline said. “Father had grand plans for the park, many of which did not see completion. There is the Serpentine Maze, the canals, and even an outdoor amphitheatre, all partially built.”
“Why didn’t he finish them?” Serena asked.
Caro sighed. “He tried to, of course. When he realized that he was dying, he poured all of the estate’s financial resources into construction of his designs. It’s what ultimately bankrupted us, I suppose.”
“What about Mother?” Darius asked, looking as if he knew the answer. “Does she go about the grounds, as well?”
Caroline gave a pained look. “From time to time. Though as you know, she never took much enjoyment from viewing Father’s creations. She thought they were a waste of time and money.”
“Perhaps they were,” Darius said. “And yet they gave him much happiness. I daresay they will inspire the same feeling for generations to come.”
His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) Page 16
