“Soldiers’ before the trumpet calls an advance would envy my readiness, Your Grace.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“And you? Are you sure that you are ready for this?” she asked in return. “They may snap at your heels for trotting your bas—“
“I hate that word, Serena.” He cut her off. “I forbid you to use it again. As for me, I am made of sterner stuff. I don’t care if dowagers start fainting and falling like autumn leaves in there. I want Trent to know what manner of father I am.”
“Then let’s show him.”
At last it was their turn to alight and Serena let out a slow breath. She wasn’t exaggerating. Tonight’s challenge felt light enough. A runner had already confirmed that both Lord Trent and Sir Tillman would be in attendance. The Duke of Northland’s presence would be enough to hold Geoffrey in check, the minor flurry of gossip caused by the Duke’s public show of acceptance toward his unacknowledged offspring was a small price to pay. She would gain in social stature and power within minutes what it took others years to build.
Never before had she publicly taken her father’s arm.
“Northland!” The Marquis of Sudbury greeted them inside the house. “I am honored beyond words to have you here.”
“Julian, may I present the incomparable Lady Serena Wellcott?”
The marquis’ expression was priceless as he took in the striking sight of his friend’s pale grey eyes mirrored and framed with black lashes reworked in exquisite beauty as Serena offered him her gloved hand. “Yes…of course,” he said softly.
“A pleasure to meet you again, your lordship.”
Julian looked at the duke and then back at Serena. Side by side, there was no denying the connection. “Naturally, we’ve met before haven’t we? I just cannot believe I—could have forgotten such a thing. Well, I have seats saved for you both next to my wife and I for the best experience.”
It was also an open show of support and the Duke of Northland shook his friend’s hand again. “Thank you, Julian.”
The duke escorted her into the grand salon which had been converted into a small performance hall for the night. He made a point of greeting acquaintances, introducing her as he went and Serena nearly forgot her purpose as she basked in her father’s smiles.
“Lady Wellcott? Is that you?”
Serena looked to see none other than Lady Hodge-Clarence approaching with a very cautious Mrs. Foxwood on her heels.
“It is. Good evening, ladies. Have you met the Duke of Northland? Your Grace, may I present Lady Hodge-Clarence and Mrs. Foxwood?”
“Charmed.” Northland kept his hands behind his back.
“Do you enjoy classical music, Mrs. Foxwood?” Serena asked innocently.
Both women struggled to hide their amazement at the unmistakable revelations of Lady Wellcott’s bloodlines but Mrs. Foxwood in particular looked unsteady. “I…cannot say.”
“The evening’s performance should help you to an answer, I would guess.” The Duke of Northland’s expression was that of a man less than impressed. “A risk if you discover that you hate it, Mrs. Foxwood, for you’ll endure the hour either way.”
“Temperance!” Lady Hodge-Clarence tried to intervene. “We adore music, Your Grace. Adore it!”
He nodded. “Good evening then. Come, Lady Wellcott.”
“Yes, Your Grace. If you’ll pardon us, ladies.”
They retreated smoothly as the duke grumbled quietly, “I’ve tasted bitters that were less sour than that pair.”
“They serve their purpose.”
“If you say so.” Northland deliberately placed his hand over hers as it rested in the crook of his arm. “Ah! Here comes the chance for me to fulfill my purpose.”
Lord Trent hailed them from across the room and made his way toward his old friend, his expression neutral and wary. “I did not know that you were expected, Stephen. And Lady Wellcott… What a bracing surprise!”
“Is it?” Northland eyed Adam. “And who is this?”
“My nephew and sole heir, Sir Adam Tillman.” Geoffrey extended his hand as if conjuring Adam from thin air. “Adam, this is the Duke of Northland, an old dear friend of mine.”
“Tillman. Why does that name strike me as familiar?” Northland asked as they shook hands.
Adam shook his head. “I would be astonished, Your Grace, for I don’t remember a previous meeting. Good evening, Lady Wellcott. You look lovely as always.”
Serena smiled shyly and kept her eyes on Adam, deliberately ignoring Trent. “It is sweet of you to say.”
“Didn’t an Adam Tillman publish a paper at the Royal Science Academy? Something to do with Brunel’s theories on drainage in tunnel construction?” the duke offered.
“A variation of them, yes.” Adam smiled. “It was an obscure accomplishment but I’m flattered to have it recalled.”
Lord Trent’s smile dimmed but he pushed on. “I forgot your penchant for academic and useless trivia, Stephen.”
“Did you?” The duke’s expression darkened. “May I pull you aside for a word, Geoffrey? I’m sure Sudbury won’t mind if we use his private study.”
Lord Trent’s mouth fell open, his eyes darting to his nephew and Serena who looked perfectly content at the arrangement. “I d-don’t mind at all.”
“Sir Tillman, if you would keep Lady Wellcott’s company until my return, I would be grateful.”
“Of course.”
“I leave her to your care.” The duke touched Adam’s arm then led a contrite Lord Trent away.
Serena sighed as she watched them go, then turned back to Adam. “I have not seen you for several days. I’d begun to fear that you’d met with a terrible fate.”
“I might say the same of you.” Adam cleared his throat. “May I call on you, Lady Wellcott? I need to talk to you alone as soon as possible and frankly, this does not seem the place for the topic I have in mind.”
“That sounds mysterious.” She tipped her head to one side, assessing the intensity in his gaze. “Lady Lylesforth has already asked to come for tea tomorrow. Would you like to come afterward? Shall I ask her to stay?”
“At the risk of sounding like a madman, please don’t. By all means, have your maid in the room or six footmen for propriety’s sake, but I don’t want to be the cause of gossip and I’m not sure a titled lady is the audience needed.”
She nodded. “Very well. I will see you at six. My curiosity has overridden the usual objections to this unusual request, Sir Tillman.”
The lights flickered to signal the need for all the guests to take their seats and Adam gallantly offered her his arm. “May I walk you in?”
“You are fearless, Sir Tillman.” Serena took his arm, marveling at the simple twists of her evening.
“As are you, Lady Wellcott.”
**
“Trent.” The marquis private study was as opulent a library as any Northland had seen but he paid it scant attention. Geoffrey was his sole focus and he wasted no time in getting to the distasteful business at hand. “How has it been so many years since you’ve crossed my path?”
“Your Grace,” Geoffrey nodded, openly pleased. “Our Raven has—“
“Don’t. I spent too much money and too much effort to clean the slate to have you so casually befouling things now.” The duke’s gaze was cold granite. “I do wish to say something to you, old friend.”
“Of course.”
“I blamed you for a long time, for my daughter’s downfall. But I think wisdom has intervened. Who can stop the wind or command a river not to run? Youth makes us impulsive and she inherited my headstrong will. I don’t think any guardian could have prevented that villainous Warrick from taking advantage.”
The Earl of Trent nodded quickly. “If you only knew how I fought to keep the baron at arm’s length and discourage the affair!”
“Serena has made it all clear.”
“Has she?”
“She has a good view of things and an instinct for bal
ance. As you know, I have a great interest in her happiness.”
“Of course you do. You are not the kind of man to lose track of your treasures.”
The duke held very still. “No. Especially the priceless and irreplaceable ones.”
“Come, let’s share a brandy and toast this reforged alliance.” Trent led him over to the side table where crystal decanters gleamed in the firelight. “You do still enjoy a good glass, my friend?”
Northland nodded slowly. “On rarer occasions. I drank more than my share in my younger years as you well know.”
Geoffrey laughed. “I admire a man with a good appetite, whatever his proclivities.”
“Odd that I never could guess where your pleasures lay.” Northland kept his hands behind his back. “It makes you harder to trust, sir.”
“Truly? I suppose my greatest joys are found in…” Lord Trent tipped his head to one side as if waiting for a voice inside his head to whisper a good answer. “In a good game. I like to win, but even better, I like to make sure the rules are set so that my victory is assured.”
“Your greatest pleasure is cheating?” the duke asked in astonishment.
“I don’t see it in those terms!” Trent smiled. “Only weak men believe that they are at the mercy of the fates, Northland. I have never accepted that lie. And anyone who thinks to push me aside or underestimate me, there is no greater thrill than teaching them the error of their ways.”
“A man would be a fool to underestimate you, Lord Trent.”
“I think I will marry, Your Grace. A young woman who will give me an heir and it will be my nephew’s turn to taste defeat at my hands. He thinks to climb over my carcass with the ease of a field laborer climbing a fence to take what he believes is his due. My sister has probably filled his head with tales of the wealth and charm of Oakwell Manor. Stupid woman!”
“A young woman…” The duke’s gaze narrowed. “Pardon me, Geoffrey, but you look…the years have not necessarily been kind.”
“What? I am—I am yet a man in his prime! My looking glass confirms it daily.” Trent’s smile was not as bright at the affront. “This from a man teetering into his dotage!”
Northland smiled slowly. “I have the vigor of a man half my age. You can ask my mistresses if you don’t believe me.”
“Mistresses? As in plural?” Geoffrey gave him an openly assessing look. “I would not have guessed it of you.”
Northland said nothing.
“Come. You have just put our past aside to admit that I have been a friend to you and to your daughter all along. Tell me your secret if you have one to this unprecedented stamina! Man to man, do you owe me any less?” Trent pressed him quietly.
“Very well. I have discovered a special tonic and can tell you in confidence that as a result, I have fathered more children than I can keep track of in recent years. I am renewed, sir.” The duke poured himself a brandy. “Forgive me. I spoke out of turn and forgot my natural reserve. You are too charming, old friend. I always did have a terrible habit of sharing too much with you.”
“There is nothing terrible in that,” Geoffrey said quickly. “Only terrible if you hint at this elixir and do not share the source with me!”
Northland shook his head. “It is for potency and sexual prowess and not a thing to be bandied about, Geoffrey. At five hundred pounds sterling a bottle, I am not sure you have the wallet for this treatment.”
“I am not light in the purse. I can easily pay as much for such a thing if it means that I can satisfy a lusty young wife.”
“A lusty young wife?” Northland asked. “Until tonight, you have said nothing of abandoning your bachelorhood. But if it truly is in the honorable pursuit of a wife and fulfilling your duties at last, then I shall send you a bottle at my own expense and wish you well. Consider it a token between us. Take a small dose each day, no more than a drop or two and soon the effects will be unmistakable. By the time you wed, you will be as randy as a sailor and guaranteed of an heir. But see that you don’t share it with anyone else. I find I like my reputation as a recluse and have no wish to be petitioned endlessly by whoring fools and be known for such a thing!”
Trent shook his head. “You always worried too much about your reputation, old friend.”
“You may be right, but you’ll keep this secret all the same.”
“All the same,” Trent said as he lifted his own glass and the men toasted to their friendship.
Northland looked at him over the rim of his glass, pretending to drink. His weakness for alcohol was a demon he was not foolish enough to release again. He spit the alluring liquid back into his glass as smoothly as he could, tasting only sadness.
He’s right. I worried too much about my reputation. I turned my back on my darling girl, lost her to childbirth and then did little more than abandon our child for fear that others would judge me.
My Raven wishes me to befriend you for her schemes and so I have…
I only pray this wife you’ve selected gives you nothing but misery before you fall into your grave one day, Trent.
Chapter Twenty
It was a stolen morning with Phillip before the next day’s social calls commenced. They’d made love most of the morning and then dressed to share a brunch and lounge in her drawing room, pretending as if nothing beyond the walls existed to effect their lives. He read the paper while she sorted her correspondence and wrote in her journal.
The quiet held an allure all its own and Serena finally looked up to survey him, handsome and lean, his expression serious as he absorbed an editorial on land reforms.
“I must stop this,” Serena said.
Phillip looked up. “What are we ceasing exactly?”
“This. It’s dangerous, you know. If I had any common sense at my command I would truly exile you until after…it won’t be much longer and I will be entirely free, Phillip. Why can I not be sensible when it comes to you?”
“You are the most sensible person I have ever met. Besides, I am already exiled, remember?”
“Hardly,” she countered with a smile. “I would not describe you as a man banished to isolation these days.”
“It’s the turning point, isn’t it?” He set his paper aside and crossed over to pull her into his arms.
She didn’t answer him at first.
“No more secrets.”
Serena yielded, looking up at him. “Yes. If I don’t drop the reins, then I stand at the precipice.”
“Tell me again who is jumping off cliffs and how deadly the fall.”
“Do you trust me, Phillip?”
“I do absolutely.” He reached out his hand to stroke her face. “Why? Why would you ask?”
“You may hear some gossip in connection with myself and…with Trent. I confess I’ve deliberately fueled most of it with an eye to—encouraging him.”
“What am I going to hear?”
“Probably a rumor that I am madly in love and likely to be Lady Trent.”
“Oh, God! To which generation have you supposedly lost your heart?”
She shrugged her shoulders very prettily. “The rumor is a bit non-specific.”
“He could be strangling Adam as we speak, my darling.” Phillip released her and crossed his arms, a dark cloud furrowing his brow.
“Not likely. I have given the man a great deal of hope and his pride and confidence will fill in every gap. No matter what anyone hints, he will make up his mind and paint himself the victor.”
“Until he isn’t?”
“Right up until the moment he isn’t.”
Phillip gently seized her upper arms, capturing her against his chest. “All right, Raven. Where? When? Tell me exactly.”
“Pardon?” she asked, innocently feigning confusion.
“I’ve stood by long enough and while I won’t directly interfere, if you think I’m not going to be present when this revelation hits Trent, you have lost your senses. I will be there to ensure that he doesn’t snap your neck if nothing else. Do
you hear me?”
“He won’t snap my neck.”
“That wasn’t the main point I was trying to get you to acknowledge, Raven Wells.”
“Fine. You will be there. You deserve to see it as much as anyone. But you will stay hidden from him until it’s over, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. I will stay hidden. I will behave. I will do everything I can short of being invisible at this damn gathering but you have yet to answer the where and when.”
“It will happen at Milbank’s masked ball.”
“How is it possible I didn’t anticipate that it would be so soon? You said it was days but somehow I’d pushed it all out.” His grip on her arms tightened. “And what if Sir Tillman hears this rumor and starts crowing a bit? What if he is offended to find out that it isn’t true and makes a scene when you tell him otherwise? He could be the threat you haven’t anticipated.”
“Phillip, you’re overthinking it. If Adam has heard it, he will disregard it or—“
“We are on a first name basis with Sir Tillman, are we?”
She said nothing for a few long seconds. “If you wish to accuse me of something, then do it. But we are not going to play this game, Warrick. Your jealousy of Sir Tillman is understood. You made no effort to hide your dislike of the man.”
“I don’t dislike him.”
“Then stop growling! No matter what Sir Tillman believes, it won’t amount to smoke after Milbank’s, yes? My business with Trent will conclude and all will be revealed. I’m sure part of that chaos will involve an end to my friendship with Adam.”
Phillip nodded slowly, his expression grim. “So long as you are not ended.”
“Very well. Milbank’s. But you’re to attend unarmed, Phillip.”
“No firearms.” He held up one hand as if a man taking a solemn oath.
“No knives, poisons, or rabid dogs?”
Phillip struggled not to smile. “You are too clever for me. I will leave that twitchy terrier pup I was going to smuggle inside my evening coat in the carriage.”
Lady Triumphs (The Black Rose Trilogy Book 3) Page 16
