Caroline grasped her brother’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “So they shall.” She looked out the window again at her children, one of which was hanging from the low branches of a nearby tree. “Oh, dear. Evan is climbing again. I must not tarry, or we will be calling on Doctor Harwood again this week. I shall leave you and Serena to get settled in.” With a quick wave, Caro departed.
As her old friend crossed the yard toward where her children played, Serena turned to face Darius. “Why didn’t you tell me Caro would be here? I thought she was in Dorset.”
“Since Christopher has been traveling, she and the children have been staying here at the Hall,” Darius answered. “Her husband has charged me with looking after her in his stead, a duty I am only too happy to oblige. I thought you would be happy to see her again.”
“I am.” Serena moved about the room, unable to relax.
“Your current state seems to indicate that you are anything but happy, my dear,” he pointed out. “Why would my sister’s presence upset you?”
Serena didn’t know the answer, herself. “I suppose it brings back memories which are best forgotten.”
“You mean Telford House.”
“Yes,” she replied. “And the weeks leading up to it. It was a different world, then. And I was a different person.”
“As was I.”
Serena gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t believe that to be so. You were just as wicked then as you are now.”
“How little you know me, Serena,” he said. “That is a situation I intend to remedy.”
“How?” she asked. “By seducing me anew with this little retreat to your estate?”
“Perhaps.”
“It won’t work,” she said flatly.
“You may find yourself surprised,” he answered. “Manning Park has a magic about it that can soften even the hardest of hearts. In three weeks’ time, you may find that you don’t wish to leave.”
Serena eyed him with a level stare. “Whether I wish to or not will have nothing to do with it. Hear me when I say this, Darius. I shall leave Manning Park—and you—just as I have promised to.”
Chapter 17
“When approaching the end of a contract with a courtesan, a man can sometimes become possessive, especially if a new lover looms on the horizon. His lovemaking can become more heated and intense as he attempts to bend the courtesan to his will….”
–from Memoirs of a Courtesan, by Lady Night
Serena tied the laces of her walking boots and arranged the skirt of her dress as she stood. Darius had instructed her to be prepared for a stroll about the estate when he returned from his business at the Hall. She wore a plain walking dress of dark amber-colored linen, along with a warm plaid shawl in dark blue and gold tones.
She sat gingerly on the sofa in the parlor, thinking of Darius’s lovemaking the night before. Exhausted, they’d slept for an hour or two, then woke for another bout of sex. Darius had brought her to the brink of release more than once, and when she’d cried out in pleasure, Serena was glad for the isolated location of the cottage.
The curious thing was that there had been no talking between them, no playful, flirtatious banter as was their custom in bed.
Just sex, raw and intense.
Breakfast had been interesting, as well. True to his word, Darius had fixed them a fine meal, complete with coffee, ham and eggs, and thick toast with butter and sweet jam.
She had never had a man cook for her before.
It was quite unusual.
Serena wondered what other remarkable things Darius had planned in order to seduce her into remaining with him. Whatever they were, it would not be enough to sway her.
Just then, she caught sight of him in the distance, riding across the expanse of green field in the late morning sun. Easily in control of the mount beneath him and his dark hair whipping in the wind, Darius resembled something out of a romantic novel. He could have been a hero, galloping across the miles to his lady love, who waited breathlessly for his return.
Serena smiled, sadly. He could have been her hero once. He had been. But that was before it all went to hell.
She had once thought she might be mistress of an estate like Manning Park, as Darius’s wife. In truth, she would not have cared one whit if his worldly possessions had been meager and his estate non-existent. A year and a half ago, she had only wanted to be with him, each day, for the rest of her life.
Now, she was approaching the end of their association, and was surprised at how much she looked forward to it. Once she was free of Darius Manning, she would be free of the memories too, and the torment of her painful past.
The Fates had dealt her a difficult hand, but Serena was determined to play it brilliantly, and ultimately, to win. She would leave Darius while keeping her heart intact, and she’d be a good deal richer, as well.
And though she knew it was childish and petty, she hoped her leaving would hurt him, as he had hurt her before. At this stage of her life, she shouldn’t care about Darius’s feelings. She should care only about what wealth she could acquire from him before her departure.
Somehow, nothing that involved Darius Manning was ever simple.
The sound of heavy hoof beats approached the cottage, and Serena craned her neck to look out the window. Darius threw his leg over the glossy black neck of his stallion and hopped to the ground. Leading the horse around to the stable behind the cottage, he disappeared from view.
Serena sighed. She didn’t want to go on a ramble about Manning Park. She wanted to be home in her own townhouse, having Lady Devlyn and the Courtesan Club over for tea and her daily dose of gossip.
But then, Darius was in the doorway, filling it with his towering, masculine frame. His blue eyes raked over her body with subtle yet heated desire. Darius could make Serena feel naked even when she was clothed from head to toe, and even when the clothing in question was not the least bit seductive.
“My lord.” Serena inclined her head in greeting.
“You must be cross with me about something,” he replied, sauntering over and easing her into his arms. He kissed her mouth languidly, then pulled back to look into her eyes. “You never call me ‘my lord’ unless you are vexed.”
Serena smoothly slid out of his embrace and put a few steps between them. “Whatever could I be vexed about? Being hauled off to a far corner of the kingdom, against my will?”
“We’re in Surrey,” he pointed out, chuckling.
She continued, “Being kept away from my dearest friends and mentor?”
Darius looked unimpressed. “Write them a letter.”
“Being forced to live in these rustic conditions, and dress like a vicar’s wife?” she said.
“I think you look ravishing,” he said, cheerfully. “Seeing you dressed in homespun only draws more attention to the beauty of your complexion, rose-petal lips and lustrous, auburn hair.”
Serena folded her arms. “Has anyone ever won an argument with you, Darius?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Then I shall endeavor to be the first.”
“A lofty goal, indeed, madam. I wish you luck in attaining it. Now, are you ready to see Manning Park?”
* * *
Darius eyed Serena as she walked dutifully beside him. Though he certainly didn’t want her to know it, their ramble about the grounds had only served to make his admiration for her grow. They had been out walking for more than an hour, and she had not seemed to tire in the least. She had not complained, either, and they soon fell into easy conversation about interesting topics outside of their contractual arrangement—like books, art, politics, life, death, the universe and the existence of heaven.
It was part of what he enjoyed most about their relationship—when they spoke about higher matters and forgot about the roles they were playing and the necessity of remaining emotionally detached. Of course, it stood second only to the passion of their bed-play, which—incidentally—was where much of that deeper conversa
tion occurred.
From their first night together, Serena had stirred his senses—and his mind—like no other woman before her. She had brought him to blinding heights of pleasure that he hadn’t even known existed. And for a man of his experience, that was saying a lot.
Though he hated to admit it, Serena Ransom had become like a drug to him. He needed her, more than he’d ever needed anyone or anything before in his life. The realization of such an unwelcome thought sent searing terror through his veins. For he only had three weeks in which to change her mind about the future.
Otherwise, she would leave him for another man.
Darius simply could not allow that to happen, for Serena’s sake as well as his own.
His little courtesan would resist him, of course. It was in her nature to do so. Usually, he enjoyed that part of her character, as it gave their bed-play an irresistible edge of passion.
So he hatched a plan to seduce his mistress in a way she would never expect. Instead of tempting her with jewels and baubles, with glittering gowns and evenings at the theatre, he would use her own memories to woo her. With the natural setting of Manning Park surrounding them, a quaint little cottage as their home, and a dearth of distractions, Serena would be forced to face her true feelings for him once and for all.
It was a gamble, certainly. But he had taken gambles before in the Peninsula, and he had won.
He was determined to win Serena, as well.
He had to. There was no other option.
For when Darius buried himself in her body, stoking the flame of her passion until she clawed at him and cried in release, he saw her defences come down. Her green eyes, usually so guarded and coy, would burn with a depth of vulnerability that touched him. It made him want to wrap his arms about her and carry her away to some far-off land, where she would be safe and happy, and his forever.
Every time he looked at Serena, he saw the girl she’d once been—the auburn-haired angel who enthralled him with her innocent passion in the weeks prior to the Telford House scandal. He knew without a doubt that she existed still, deep within the fortress that now surrounded her heart. As Havelock had reminded him, the most effective way of taking a fortress was to convince the inhabitants to drop their defences and walk out the front gate.
If everything went according to his plan, in three weeks’ time, Serena Ransom would do exactly that.
“Shall we continue on to the Roman Ruins?” he asked, pointing to the top of a long hill. “The climb will not be too much for you, I hope.”
Serena lifted her chin up defiantly. “Certainly not. I am not tired in the least.”
He grinned. His fiery courtesan would never admit defeat. “Good. Then you will be agreeable to an energetic bout of ‘tickle-tale’ when we arrive there?”
Serena shot him an amused look.
He laughed at her expression. “Let me hazard a guess: as soon as we reach the Ruins, you will be overcome by exhaustion. We could always do it right here, you know, in the middle of the south lawn.”
She played along. “Ah, but your mother might be looking out the window at precisely the wrong moment,” Serena replied, pointing behind them to the manor house. “The shock might be too much for her delicate state of health. Not to mention the disaster of your niece and nephew happening upon us, in flagrante.”
Darius chuckled again. “I had not thought of that. You are far too sharp-minded for your own good. I shall have to make sure that my next courtesan is less intelligent than you.”
Serena’s eyebrows lifted. “You are planning to take another courtesan, after me?”
“Of course,” Darius lied, smoothly. “Though no one will ever compare to you. But does that mean I should adopt the habits of a monk? I am a red-blooded man, Serena. I have needs that must be met. Perhaps another member of the Courtesan Club will be available. Both Miss Knightly and Lady Sterling would appeal to any man’s fancy. Which one of them would you choose for me?”
Serena frowned at him. “Neither.”
“Neither? That is a surprise,” he said as they started up the hill in earnest. “I assumed they would each be as skilled a lover as you. Would they not be adept at bringing me to an earth-shattering climax?”
She huffed and said, “I do not wish to discuss it.”
“Why not?” he asked innocently. “Does the topic offend you?”
“You offend me,” she answered.
“I had no idea that after five months as a professional courtesan, you would still have such delicate sensibilities.”
“There is much you do not know about me, Darius, and never will.”
“I’d wager I know more than you think I do,” he said.
She looked across at him then, her green eyes blazing. “And I’d wager that you think you know much more than you do.”
Darius shook his head. “It seems you are determined to be cross with me today. Or could it possibly be that you are jealous?”
“Certainly not!” Serena insisted. “I shall be happy to be rid of you.”
“Really?” he said. “That’s not how you were acting last night. In fact, you were clasping onto me for dear life as your body bucked and trembled with passion. I daresay that no other man you choose as protector will be able to make you feel the passion that I do.”
Serena stared at him, incredulous.
Darius continued, “I also put forth that the thought of me satisfying another woman in bed—now that you have enjoyed my attentions there—irks you more than you’re willing to admit—because you care for me.”
She gave a little huff of disbelief, shaking her head in annoyance as she stalked off ahead of him.
Darius smiled as he watched her go.
For even though his lovely courtesan had managed to escape him for the moment, the truth was, she couldn’t escape the truth forever.
Chapter 18
“As her time with her protector comes to an end, the courtesan may become tempted to let her guard down emotionally. This is a mistake which should be avoided at all costs. A courtesan is an employee of her protector; nothing more.”
–from Memoirs of a Courtesan, by Lady Night
Serena marched up the hill as quickly as her tired legs would carry her.
“What’s the matter?” Darius called from behind her. “Hit a tender spot, did I?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she responded.
“I’m not. You are doing quite a fine job if it yourself. In fact, I am rather touched at your show of feelings.”
“I don’t have any feelings for you, Darius,” Serena replied, trying to breathe evenly as she reached the top of the hill.
“If that’s true, then why are you so angry?” He reached the top of the hill, and came to stand beside her. Darius was not the least bit out of breath.
Damn him.
Serena made to reply, but wisely kept her mouth shut. Anything she said would make her look incredibly stupid, for of course, he was right. She was angry. Though why she should be, Serena had no idea. She would soon get her wish and be free of Darius forever.
Then why did the thought of him with another woman stir her ire instead of providing relief?
In these past weeks, Serena had only thought of her own future after the contract was over between them. She hadn’t thought of his—about whether or not he would take another woman into his bed, or worse, seek out another bride.
For though she hated to think it, the sharp pain in her heart told her that Darius might indeed be right. She did have feelings, and right now they were a hot mess of anger and jealousy. Darius irked her to no end, and she could never forgive him for what he’d done to her in the past. Yet, the thought of him taking another woman to bed, pleasuring that woman the way he pleasured Serena, bothered her even more than he did.
Could it be that she was going to miss him, after all?
That was something she’d rather die than admit, especially to him.
Serena took a breath and used the skills Lady Devl
yn had taught her. She fell back on Courtesan Rule Number Thirty-four: “To ensure that a man never knows what you are truly thinking, be sure to change the subject often.”
“I am sorry if I appeared angry,” she said, finally. “My short temper must be due to fatigue, from walking.”
“Fatigue, you say?” Darius asked, lifting a hand to push an errant curl of hair away from her face. “How convenient that you are just now overcome with it, when we are discussing our feelings.”
Serena made no response to his remark. Instead she walked toward the Roman Ruins further across the top of the hill. Since Darius was not taking the hint, she would have to change the subject yet again. “Tell me about the history of this marvellous folly,” she said. “Your father constructed it?”
“He did,” Darius replied. He walked with her amidst the tall, crumbling columns, which harkened back to another time.
Two sets of partial columns stood beside each other, looking for all the world like remnants of a fallen empire.
“I commend your father’s skill in recreating these ruins,” she said, running her hand along the rough stone. “The columns would be quite an achievement on their own, but to include a crumbling architrave and cornice above adds to their authenticity. I can see why the peaked pediment is missing. The partial construction below would not be sufficient to hold the weight. Unless, of course, he used extremely light material. But there would be a risk of the whole thing blowing over, I suppose.”
Darius’s sapphire eyes glowed with a mixture of surprise and admiration. “I had no idea that, on top of everything else, you were a student of architecture.”
“Lady Devlyn’s tutelage,” Serena replied. “We learned about many topics while studying to be courtesans, of which sex was only one.”
“I must say, you continually impress me.”
“Thank you,” she said simply, enjoying the compliment.
“Architecture was the great passion of my father’s life,” Darius explained, looking about the grounds at the fruits of his father’s labor. “I inherited the love of it myself.
His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) Page 17
