And yet, for all that, it was Serena’s heart that voiced the most protest. All the other excuses were simply window dressing to disguise the ugliness of the true problem.
Darius was right.
She was a coward.
He had broken her heart once and she had steeled herself against him for two years. And though Serena had worked hard to construct the battlements of her soul, Darius had finally gained entry. In fact, she had opened those guarded gates and let him walk right in.
A part of her wished now that Caro had not confided in her about Darius’s poor unborn child. She could have kept him at arm’s length, then…could have kept believing that he was as heartless as the devil himself.
But it was too late, now. The damage was done.
They could never go back to the way things were.
A fresh wave of sadness washed over her, and she blinked back more tears. Serena felt wedged between a rock and a hard place, unable to move, and yet unwilling to accept the reality of her fate—that she would slowly die there if she didn’t do something drastic.
She gulped back a deep breath, refusing to give in to the emotion that threatened to drown her in its depths.
The sad reality was that she had gotten herself into this mess. And she was determined to get herself out of it.
The day after tomorrow, she would return to London and reclaim her life as a celebrated courtesan. And no matter how painful, she would force herself to leave Darius in her past, where he belonged.
As Serena rolled over and closed her eyes against the pain in her heart, she wondered if she would ever, in this lifetime, be free of Darius Manning.
* * *
She dreamed of him that night. He had come to her, pulling her tenderly into his arms and cradling her with affection. Brushing her lips with a tender kiss, he’d told her that everything would be alright. She had sighed with relief and cuddled close against his warm chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him.
Waking in bed alone, Serena had felt bereft, her heart plummeting with grief as she realized it had only been a dream. Darius had not come to her. Things between them were still unresolved, and would likely remain so.
She forced herself to get up, enjoying the vicious bite of the cold water in the basin as she splashed it on her face. She dressed in a muslin gown of Kerry blue, sprigged with ginger. It was the prettiest one in her country collection, and she hoped it would lift her spirits.
She breakfasted alone, making a pot of tea and forcing herself to eat a buttered biscuit.
It was awful to think of how much she missed Darius, already.
Aside from the delicious physical heat between them, as well as the new-found depth of emotion, a myriad of smaller things would have made their association more than memorable. The witty conversation, the sharp-edged humor, the intellectual points they debated. Serena had enjoyed those moments more than she wanted to admit. Then there was the devilish look in Darius’s eyes, the warmth of his hand, the fire in his kiss.
Would her next protector be so adept at such things? From what she knew of the duke, she could not imagine it being so between them. Or perhaps, truthfully, she did not want to imagine it.
Her morning brightened when Caro and the twins appeared at her door. More precisely, they bounded through it—the children at least.
“Aunt Serena!” Bella shouted happily, skipping about the parlor as her chestnut curls bounced in rhythm.
“Good morning, Auntie!” Evan intoned, rushing in to give her a sweet kiss on the cheek.
They had taken to calling her that in the past week, and no matter how many times Serena and Caroline had corrected them, they continued. Truthfully, Serena enjoyed the sound of the endearment upon their lips. Until now.
“Good morning, children. Caro.” Serena choked back tears at the sight of the little imps. She was going to miss them very much indeed. Their dear mother, too.
“Are you alright, Serena?” Caro asked, immediately picking up on her friend’s discomfiture. “You look ill.”
She wiped at her watery eyes and forced herself to smile. “I am quite fine, I assure you. Just a little tired, I think.”
Caro came to peer closely at her. “It looks to me as if you haven’t slept. I scolded Darius roundly for leaving you alone here last evening. I told him the estate business could wait. But he insisted upon staying at the Hall, shutting himself in the library until morning light. Have you seen him?”
Serena swallowed, painfully. “I confess, I have not.”
“Oh. I imagined my brother had risen early and joined you here for breakfast. I wonder where he has gone off to….”
For a moment a terrible wave of fear washed over Serena’s heart. Where was Darius? What if she didn’t get the chance to see him again before she departed? The possibility sickened her so much that she felt suddenly nauseated.
“My dear, you’ve turned green!” Caro remarked.
Bella crawled into Serena’s lap, reaching out to touch her forehead. “Mama always does this when I am sick,” the little girl said. “There. Do you feel better now?”
Caro followed suit, laying the back of her hand on Serena’s forehead. “Your skin is cool to the touch. That is a good sign. Yet you show other symptoms of illness that cannot be ignored, dearest.”
Serena sighed, disconsolately. “If I am ill, it is not a sickness of the body from which I suffer, but another altogether.”
Bella took Serena’s face in her hands and commanded, “Tell us where it hurts.”
The child’s concern for Serena nearly undid her. She blinked back her tears and lifted Annabelle from her lap. “Oh, it is nothing of any consequence. I merely ate something that has upset my stomach. That is all. I shall be right as rain in no time.”
The explanation seemed to work with the twins. Their mother, however, did not look convinced. “Children, go and play outside for a little while,” she said. “I would like to be alone with Auntie Serena.”
“But we want her to play with us!” Evan insisted.
Serena smiled, and said, “Perhaps I will join you later, darlings. Mama and I must visit first.”
Caro ushered them out the door, casting a watchful eye after them as usual. She placed herself on the chair near the window so she could see them, and regarded Serena. “What is going on? Forgive me, but you look terrible. Darius was acting strangely last night, as well. Has something happened between the two of you?”
Serena poured her friend a cup of steaming tea and placed it before her, then poured one for herself. She sat on the sofa, and blurted out, “One could say so. You see, we have made a terrible discovery. It seems that we are in love.”
Confusion, then joy, filled Caro’s expression. “Well, that is good news! Isn’t it?”
“No, it is not good news,” Serena answered. “Not when I am returning to London on the morrow.”
Caro looked sadly shocked. “I’d hoped you would decide against that course of action. We had all hoped that you would stay with us, here.”
At her friend’s words, Serena’s heart seemed to cry out painfully within her breast. It wasn’t simply Darius she was in love with. It was Caroline and the children, too. “Oh, Caro, it’s impossible, don’t you see? I have signed a contract with another man: the Duke of Balfour. It will be in force the day after tomorrow. Even if I wanted to stay, I couldn’t.”
Caroline set her teacup down, and said, “There is no way you can break the agreement with the duke?”
“No. And I wouldn’t, even if I could.”
“Why not?” Caro asked, incredulously. “You said that you and Darius were in love—the fact of which I have been aware for much longer than you, it seems. How can you go to another man if you are in truly love with my brother?”
Suddenly, Serena felt as if she couldn’t breathe. That was the very question she’d refused to ask herself in the dark, lonely hours of the night. For there was no answer. None she wanted to hear, at any rate.
“
Do not ask me to explain, I beg you, Caro. It is difficult enough, as it is.”
“Difficult for who—you?” she demanded. “And what of my brother? Has he not paid a high enough price for his sins? Does he not deserve a chance at happiness with the woman he loves?”
Serena was momentarily taken aback. She had never heard her friend speak so passionately before, or so harshly.
“You are being quite cruel, you know,” Caro continued, further twisting the knife in Serena’s heart.
“And yet, I must be, in order to avoid a painful future for the both of us,” Serena said, bleakly.
“That is what you are telling yourself, it seems,” Caro said, finally. “But I should like to point out one thing to you. I have watched you together. I have witnessed the depth of feeling between you and my brother. I am a married woman, Serena—I know what goes on between the sexes, and what doesn’t. And I must tell you that what you and Darius share…well, it is rare, indeed. And to see both of you squander it like it was nothing, I daresay it makes me want to slap the both of you quite hard.” She wiped at her eyes, angrily. “You see what you’ve done? You’ve made me so cross I am crying like a ninny. That is another mark against you.”
Then Caroline threw her arms about Serena and hugged her tight. A myriad of emotions filled their embrace, but at the core of it stood an affection that would not waver, no matter what difficulties either of them faced in life. They did not have to speak the words to know that they would always be friends.
Caro cleared her throat, rising from where she was seated. “I must return to the Hall with the twins. Mother is expecting us shortly. I will see you off tomorrow, though. And I will come and visit you in Town, in the Spring. Christopher will be returned then, and we shall take up residence again in Grosvenor Square.”
“Will your husband allow you to socialize with a woman of my ilk?” Serena asked, accompanying her friend to the door.
“We shall find a way, I promise,” Caro replied. “And now, I must go. Mother will have an apoplexy if we are late. She values punctuality above all else.”
Serena opened the door for Caro. Looking out into the yard, what she saw there made her heart jump into her throat.
Darius—looking as grim and forbidding as a sky before a storm.
Chapter 25
“Leaving one’s lover is much like removing a bullet from a festering wound; speed is of the essence. The longer one lingers and pokes about, the more painful and gruesome such business is likely to be.”
–from Memoirs of a Courtesan, by Lady Night
Darius stood there, watching his sister hurry out of the little cottage and beckon to her children. The expression in Caro’s eyes told him that she understood exactly what was going on between him and his mistress. It seemed she was as helpless to stop Serena from her course of action as he was.
Serena herself looked much like he felt. Her eyes were dark and shadowed, the mark of a shared sleepless night. The thought perversely pleased him, somehow. Mutual suffering was always easier to stomach than the singular sort.
Bella and Evan greeted him with their usual mirth, but Caro wisely hurried them away. Their uncle had some final business to attend to with his spirited mistress. Darius doubted it would be a pretty scene. It was best to get such unpleasantness over with.
“Are you still set upon leaving Manning Park tomorrow?” he demanded.
Serena regarded him with a shuttered expression. It was one he knew well, by now. “I am,” she said.
He struggled to control his emotions as they wrenched inside him. Dark, dangerous anger burned in his heart, flailing hopelessly against a future it had no power to change. “I thought as much. However, you may find it a difficult task when there is no carriage at your disposal.”
“No carriage…? You would sink so low as to deprive me of transport?” she said.
“You misjudge me, but yes, I would,” he answered. “You see, I have been called away on business to Yardley Grange, another of our estates in Berkshire. I must leave immediately. An unfortunate circumstance which cannot be helped.”
Serena’s eyes flashed with fury. “And what am I to tell the duke when I do not appear on the appointed day? I am under contract to him, Darius.”
“As of this moment, you are still under contract to me. And the sad truth is, I don’t give a flying fig what you do with yourself,” he barked.
It was a lie, of course. He cared a great deal. More than he wanted to admit at this awful moment. As Darius regarded the woman who had been so much more to him than just his private courtesan, anger and bitter disappointment flooded his veins. He had never felt so helpless in his life.
She was leaving him. The woman he loved more than life itself. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
He remembered something akin to this horrible sensation from his days on the battlefield, when he’d been forced to leave a dying comrade behind. A cold, hollow feeling would seep through his heart like ice water as he turned and walked away. And yet, he had done it countless times.
It hadn’t gotten any easier over the years.
Serena tossed her head defiantly. “I shall ask your mother to loan me the use of a carriage, then. She will be only too happy to provide me with transport, I’d wager. So you see? You shan’t keep me here against my will.”
Darius shook his head in frustration. “You seem intent on marching into Hell regardless of what I say. I wish you luck there. And trust me, my dear, you are going to need it. But hear me well, Serena. If you choose to throw away all that I am offering, you must live with the consequences of your actions. And I want you to understand this quite clearly: I shan’t be coming after you.”
Was that a faint look of shock across her beautiful face? Darkly, he realized he wanted to do more than shock his stubborn courtesan. He wanted to shake some sense into her, and he wouldn’t have hesitated if it would do any good.
“Does that surprise you, Serena?” he asked. “Was that your plan all along? To orchestrate a dramatic scene, with you playing the heroine, Balfour as the villain of course, and me—the reluctant hero—riding in at the last moment to save his lady love from her own mistake? Come now, you must know me well enough by now to realize that I abhor the theater. And I have no wish to begin treading the boards as an actor in this badly written play.”
He glared down at her, watching her work hard to keep her emotions beneath the surface. She would give nothing away now, not when her final victory was within reach.
It had all become clear to him last night as he’d tossed and turned on the library sofa. There was a reason why leaving him wasn’t difficult for her. Because this had been her plan, all along.
Revenge.
His little mistress. His virgin courtesan. She had not loved him, not truly. The little cat had played him for a fool. And he had let her.
“Why the long face, pet?” Darius asked, his voice hard with sarcasm. “I should think you’d be happy. You’ve finally gotten what you wanted. As of tomorrow, the Grosvenor Square townhouse will be yours. My solicitor has already been instructed to draw up the papers to transfer the deed into your name, as per our agreement. The jewels, the clothes—they are yours, as well. Fitting payment for all your hard work, my dear. In truth, I cannot begrudge you your wages. You did a damn fine job on your back for me. I’m sure your next employer will be delighted with all your tricks, as well, not to mention your work ethic. A more dedicated harlot one would never find, I’d wager.”
Raw shock flooded Serena’s expression, and his own heart twisted in response. What was he doing? He didn’t know. He only knew that torturing her like this gave him some kind of perverse relief from his own agony.
Darius pivoted on his heel, making to leave. But something made him turn to regard her one last time. “Oh yes, there is one thing for which I am in your debt. Indeed, I find I am most grateful to you for refusing my proposal yesterday. In the sober light of day, I realized my dreadful folly in asking
you to be my wife.” He laughed, coldly. “Can you imagine? A more ridiculous idea I have never invented. A courtesan as my countess… I’d be laughed right out of Parliament.”
Serena’s eyes widened at the insult, their green depths glittering with emotion. She looked as if she had been slapped, quite viciously, too.
Her vulnerable expression momentarily shamed him, but he quickly banished such a thought from his mind. If Serena was hurt, it was from her own doing. He would not feel guilty for merely pointing out the facts of the matter to his stubborn little mistress.
She gazed up at him silently, pain etched upon the fine features of her face. Even like this, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
He had to get out of there before he remembered the sweetness of her lips…the softness of her skin…and how desperate he was to touch her.
“I bid you good-day, Serena.”
He inclined his head in a stiff nod, then stalked off. For if he stayed longer, he might embarrass himself by pulling Serena into his arms for one final, heated kiss. That was a scene best left to penny novels.
With each step he took, his heart bucked against him. But Darius refused to turn around and look at the courtesan he had left behind. He had to keep moving forward, or he would not have the strength to. And the sick churning in his gut told him he would need that strength to get through the coming days without her.
Not to mention, the rest of his life.
* * *
The next morning was cold and damp, the skies depressingly gray. Fitting weather for a painful departure, Serena thought. She had done as she had threatened, going to the manor house and knocking upon the kitchen door at the side of the great house. The front door would have been barred to her, she was certain.
After convincing the cook to pass a message to Lady Kane, she had received the answer which she sought. The Dowager Countess had indeed become a reluctant ally. Darius’s mother was only too happy to provide a carriage to convey Serena back to London and away from her precious son.
His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) Page 23
