Lady Triumphs (The Black Rose Trilogy Book 3)

by Renee Bernard

  “Oh, my! Just upon one meeting?” Heat flooded her face and she prayed it wasn’t too obvious. “Sir Tillman, no matter how clever or entertaining I prove, I cannot counteract the dull tedious hours of London society. Though perhaps the distraction of all those mothers shoving their daughters in your path may add to the enterprise?”

  He laughed again. “Hardly!”

  “Don’t underestimate them, Sir Tillman. The cunning of a scheming mother inspired by a future earl who has the audacity to appear without a wife?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “You must be on your guard.”

  “My mother must have given me a similar warning at some point but are you offering to protect me, Lady Wellcott?”

  “Without weaponry?” she asked in mock horror. “They’ll tear me to pieces!”

  “I shall keep a wary eye out then, and do my best to endure alone; or protect you if a mob begins to form.” He pulled her closer only to spare her a lumbering collision from a nearby gentleman who was openly fighting to keep a rein on his overly enthusiastic dance partner. “I have you, Lady Wellcott.”

  She was sure he’d meant it innocently enough as an assurance but her throat tightened as the sensation of his embrace and protective care encircled her. “You are too kind.”

  “Is it too forward to ask, Lady Wellcott, if there is a Lord Wellcott? I meant to say, are you married, Lady Wellcott?”

  She shook her head. “No.” Serena kept her face averted from his as if the confession were awkward for her. “There is no denying the truth. I have never been married and have no prospects nor designs in that direction, which places me firmly and happily on the precipice of irrevocable spinsterhood. You are safe, Sir Tillman.” She lifted her head to look him squarely in the eye. “I am not a threat to your bachelorhood.”

  Movement across the room caught her gaze and she realized that Trent was on the edge of the crowded ballroom watching their every move.

  Is that jealousy I detect? Oh, my. Could it really be this easy?

  She looked back at Adam, accepting that if the earl’s green-eyed monster inspired Trent to turn too quickly, she could be on the wrong end of the gambit. There was nothing to do but to make the most of the moment.

  “No prospects or designs?” He shook his head. “I know my uncle presented me as a rustic but even if I had stumbled out of a bog, I couldn’t believe that, Lady Wellcott.”

  “If there is more to the tale, I can assure you that this is not the time or place for it so you will have to take me at my word.”

  “I will take you at your word but I am inspired to engineer the time and place where I can hear all your tales, Lady Wellcott.”

  “Are you a clever enough engineer, Sir Tillman?” she asked. “Because when it comes to keeping secrets, like most women, I pride myself on the labyrinth I’ve constructed to hide them away.”

  The music faded and their steps slowed. The admiration in his gaze was palpable and Serena fought not to hold her breath. “I love a challenge, Lady Wellcott.”

  He bowed over her gloved hand and they retreated along with the other couples from the floor. Serena’s stomach was a tight knot as Lord Trent intercepted them with a smile that didn’t warm his eyes.

  “How are your toes, Lady Wellcott?” he demanded. “It looked deadly tight on that floor.”

  “I survived to fight another day, Lord Trent.” Serena said and then curtsied. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sir Tillman, and I do hope I have the chance to see you again at another insipid social gathering very soon.”

  Adam smiled. “I will see to it.”

  She turned to Geoffrey who was quick to take her gloved hand and kiss her knuckles, the gesture more theatrical than was warranted but she dared not smile. “Lord Trent, I think tonight you made me wonder if I shall rely less on luck and more on fate for my future. Thank you for the dance.”

  She left without giving Trent a chance to compose his reply and headed into the crowded salon to weave through the safety of the wallflowers and chaperones before slipping out to ask for her carriage to be brought around.

  Lady Serena Wellcott held her head high, confident that she’d left both men wanting more.

  **

  Adam stretched his legs out on the carriage ride back to his uncle’s town house and tried to ignore the ache at the small of his back. The journey to London had wreaked havoc on his back and he’d have gladly forgone the evening for a long hot soak in a bathtub—except for Lady Serena Wellcott.

  My God, she was like no woman I have ever seen! Lady Wellcott was a peacock in a room full of dull hens and damned if I don’t have a new purpose in this hellish venture.

  “What are you smiling about over there?” Uncle Geoffrey asked. “Out with it. Tell me.”

  It was an irritating command but Adam swallowed his resentment to attempt a civil answer. “I was just contemplating how surprising it was to enjoy myself at a dance.”

  “Balls are always lively and only a dullard would sit in a pout and be miserable in good company.” Uncle Geoffrey leaned back against the seat across from him and adjusted the small curtain for a better view of the passing streets. “You will have the way of it before long.”

  “Perhaps.” Adam ignored the implied insult. He’d lived in London when he was working on a project to reinforce Brunel’s famous tunnel under the Thames but there was no point in arguing with a man who saw him only as a workman with dirt under his nails. His uncle lived to bait him and his mother had warned him of her younger brother’s delight in conflict and torment. He sighed and took a slow deep breath to balance out his nerves. “I’ll just watch and learn.”

  “Wise man.” Trent shifted forward as if to study him. “What did you think of Lady Wellcott?”

  “She was very lively.” He kept his expression neutral, unwilling to share any sign of his interest. “The daughter of a friend of yours, did you say?”

  “The bastard daughter of a friend of mine,” his uncle corrected him with relish.

  The word landed like stone at Adam’s feet and he held as still as he could to await the rest of it. “I see.”

  Uncle Geoffrey sighed dramatically. “No one speaks of it openly but then they can only guess at the facts. I have noted her rise in fortunes with some interest though she’s angered more than one of the Old Guard by doing so well without a nod to marriage. Not that they would have sacrificed one of their precious male pups to a woman with a questionable pedigree! It’s the principle of course.”

  “But she is a titled woman and—“

  “Her father bought a title for her through some obscure legal maneuver and with a sly nod from the crown. Even if the decree is as flimsy as a dandelion in late summer, the obscene fortune he reportedly settled on her has silenced most questions.” Trent sat back against the carriage’s upholstered wall, openly content to demonstrate his mastery on the subject of Lady Serena Wellcott. “Even so, she is ridiculously popular no doubt for her social skills and keen wit. It is said that she possesses a talent for investing or business or some such, for every report of her worth increases which naturally means it is all a bunch of exaggerated false gossip and she is likely as poor as a wren. Women do like to waste money on fripperies and nonsense and no unmarried woman without legitimate family or the support of a husband can be truly wealthy.”

  Adam hated the word ‘bastard’ and it made no difference to him if the woman he’d met had been a street urchin in some former life. It was Adam’s turn to contemplate a study of the man across from him. Uncle Geoffrey was deliberately trying to put him off of her. The question was why.

  “It is generous of you to befriend her then, despite the unfortunate circumstances of her parentage and her current poverty.” Adam did his best not to allow the sarcasm he felt to bubble up and taint his speech.

  “Yes! Well, you will find that I am a very generous man at the end of the day!”

  Adam chose to nod rather than risk a reply.

  His uncle noticed none of his
discomfort. “Don’t worry, dear nephew. I tell you these things to prove that I am no monster but an ally and mentor to you. Lady Wellcott is a very sweet creature flawed by circumstances beyond her control but you are the next Earl of Trent. There will be dozens of debutantes and eligible heiresses clawing over themselves to reach you and before the season is over, you will struggle to recall what Lady Serena Wellcott looks like.”

  “I wasn’t worried.”

  “No. Good. Tomorrow, we’ll set about making our first social calls together and I’ll introduce you to my inner circles. I want to take you to the Club and ensure that before the week is out, your calendar is overflowing with invitations and calls. How does that sound?”

  It sounds like I’d rather put my head in a vise.

  “Delightful,” Adam said softly.

  He turned his face to look out the window, the light from the street lamps creating strange halos in the gloom. He hated his uncle’s talent for back-handed compliments and twisted games. In any other social sphere, he doubted his uncle’s rudeness would fly but his title gained him a strange immunity where he was described indulgently as eccentric or difficult.

  God, if being an earl condemns you to becoming an ass, I think I’ll jump off one of my own bridges before I inherit.

  Adam sighed. His uncle was a strange tyrant and his mother had long avoided her brother’s company. She had begged him to refuse his uncle’s invitation for the season but Adam was tired of shying from the situation. Adam was the kind of man who preferred to face things head on. He was determined to survey the man for himself and be better armed for whatever the future may hold.

  No matter how the lines of succession lay, Adam wasn’t convinced that Uncle Geoffrey didn’t have a plan of his own to defy them all.

  And I wonder if that plan doesn’t have something to do with the very lovely Lady Serena Wellcott. He’s spitting protests about her suitability, but I wouldn’t put it past the old bear to think of putting up a fight. Marriage to a young woman may yet produce a male heir and give him the chance to crow.

  Except I could care less about being an earl and lording it over Oakwell Manor.

  So he’s boxing shadows.

  Although…

  The memory of Lady Wellcott in his arms during their waltz snagged at his calm and made him doubt himself. If Lady Wellcott were the object of his uncle’s affections, then Adam wasn’t so sure he could cross his arms and indifferently watch that courtship. He had spent the rest of the evening trying to catch a glimpse of her in the mob and wrestled with disappointment.

  Uncle Geoffrey may think to put me off with his black slice of gossip about the lady but I don’t care if her parents were tinkers or even currently residents of Newgate.

  And I don’t care what game my uncle is playing.

  He needs to learn how to lose.

  Chapter Eight

  “How was it then?” Pepper asked as she began the work of the ball gown’s buttons and hooks. “Did you dance at all?”

  “She danced.” Phillip answered for her, interrupting the pair as he boldly came into the room to lean against the post of her great bed. “And looked ridiculously beautiful in that gown while she was at it.”

  Pepper’s eyes widened in shock but she withdrew after her mistress nodded, but not before she gave Phillip a warning look.

  Serena stepped out of the ball gown and lay it across the back of her vanity chair. “Phillip Warrick. If I didn’t know better, I would say that you had foolishly just confessed to being at the Drakes’ party tonight. Hiding in the drapery, were you?”

  “And if I were?”

  Serena gripped the edge of the table and forced herself to stay still. “Then you need to go. You have a home of your own in London, sir, or even better, a country estate to the west. I know that we have reconciled but it is clear you need to retreat until this business is done. I love you, Phillip. But you do not have permission to burst into my rooms as if you own me, and you do not have the right to interfere with my life. You are not the master here. You are not the master of me.”

  The air in the room grew very still and Phillip froze in place, a man unsure if it was safe to breathe. “I should have knocked.”

  “You should have stayed away from Drakes after I expressly forbid you to be there.”

  Phillip slowly held up his hands in surrender. “I am not used to being forbidden. You are not the only one adjusting to this arrangement but I overstepped. I am human, Raven. Every instinct is to champion you, to protect you somehow and—I can hardly do that pacing in my library.”

  “I don’t need a champion.”

  “We’ve already had this fight, haven’t we?”

  She nodded. “Yes and you lost.”

  He smiled. “As usual. But if it helps, he didn’t see me. I didn’t interfere. I was there merely to be on hand in case…” His words trailed off as his confidence faded. “You are not invincible, Raven.”

  “I never had the illusion I was.” Raven took a moment, doing her best to keep her anger out of her voice. “You were lucky tonight. A room that crowded has a way of churning you from one place to the next, and if the tide had carried you into Trent’s path, what would you have said? What lies would you have told him? And how would you have kept him from latching back on to that old hatred?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She sighed. “If he sets on you again, then I have no chance.” Serena crossed her arms. “You promised to stay away.”

  “I promised not to interfere. I didn’t interfere.” Phillip raked one hand through his hair betraying his total capitulation. “But you’re right. It was foolish and risky and—childish. The worst part of it was the bitter reward of watching you like that. So beautiful and alluring and so completely… For the record, if that man you were dancing with was the nephew, then I hate Adam Tillman.”

  “You do not. You dislike him because he is handsome and that is a terrible reason to stomp and pout about over there like a sullen toddler.”

  “I can hate him if I want to, woman.” Phillip’s pout gave way to his own wry humor. “Even if it is only because he’s intolerably too smart looking, I’m sure I’ll find additional reasons as this nightmare unfolds. I can guarantee you that in one conversation with that ape, I’ll come up with a dozen things to loathe about his character.”

  “Phillip.” She approached him, wary of igniting another conflict but determined. “I meant what I said. You will have to leave.” Serena leaned in to reach up to cradle his face in her hands before she went on, “It was too much to ask to think that you could distract yourself in London for the duration.”

  He slowly shook his head in protest. “You do not have the power to exile me.”

  “No. Only the power to beg you to do the right thing and go willingly. Just for this Season, Phillip, until Trent is dealt with.”

  Phillip closed his eyes. “I should never have complained about using the servant’s entrance.”

  She smiled. “No, especially since if I weaken and send you a letter begging you to return then that is the door you will use when you call on me.” She threaded her fingers up into the nape of his neck, deliberately teasing his skin to send a shiver down his spine. “Unless your pride forbids it, my darling.”

  He opened his eyes, the heat there a blend of desire and anger. “I should thank you for believing I still have my pride left to me.”

  “I love you, Phillip Warrick.”

  “I have never wanted to strangle you more than at this moment, Raven.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Phillip. You don’t mean it. You are angry and you have every right to be angry. But make no mistake. It is the anger of a child who dislikes the punishment they have openly earned. Rail all you want, Warrick, but don’t throw away all that we’ve fought so hard to gain—not for the sake of pride. I am not ending our love affair. I’m saying it’s clear that your need to champion me and hover has proven a greater obstacle than you can overcome.”

&nbs
p; “That’s not a crime.”

  “No. Love is never a crime, Phillip. The crime is mine. I cannot do what I must if I am constantly fearful of your interference or worse—of defending my actions to you when it is all said and done.”

  “Do you intend to seduce—“

  She cut him off quickly with a kiss, a warm sweet bribe to secure his complete attention. “I vowed to be faithful and to love you and you alone. I gave you my fidelity, my love, my loyalty and my soul, Phillip Warrick. I vowed to keep no secrets from you and to do whatever I can to be safe. Do not destroy the trust between us by disregarding the promises I have already made! Do you doubt me so easily? One dance? My god, Phillip, however will you weather the years ahead? The myriad of social traps and careful games I will play?”

  Phillip was the one to initiate the next kiss, deepening the contact and prolonging the sensation that the world was beginning to fall away. “I will weather them by remembering that kiss and the look in your eyes right now.”

  “Will you? I pray that’s so.” Serena reached up to touch his cheek. “Love is just the first battle. It’s a war ahead to preserve that happiness.”

  Phillip sighed. “A bitter truth. Though I am not—accepting total exile, Raven Wells. I will stay in my own sphere and out of sight.”

  She smiled. “Not total exile but until you prove yourself trustworthy, let’s consider that a threat I shall hold in reserve.”

  “Is there an appeals process?”

  “After everything that we have been through, you and I, and everything you now know of me, are you truly willing to risk it and find out?” Serena looked up into his face and waited. “Well?”

  “I stand resolutely corrected, my lady’s obedient servant.”

  Serena touched his face again with the cool blades of her fingers. “You are irresistible in that state, my love.”

  “Thank God.”

  His humor returned and she could feel relief coursing through his touch. “Did you have a miserable time hiding in the ferns, dearest?”

  He nodded, then sighed. “It was purgatory and I am nearly cured of the impulse to follow you, although…”