When told to enter, he announced her presence with all due pomp and ceremony, “Lady Serena Worthington has arrived.” He stepped back for her to make a grand entrance.
Both men rose to greet her. Her brother looked handsome in his dark evening attire. She noted the expression on Geoffrey’s face, and silent appreciation as his roving gaze moved from her head to her toes.
“Gentlemen,” she greeted both. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”
“Not at all. First, sister, you grace our countryside with your elegance.” Henry kissed her hand.
Why such flattery from her brother? To impress the Duke? She could count his previous compliments given over her lifetime on one hand. Serena regarded her brother with suspicion.
“Your brother is correct, my lady. There are no words to express how exquisite you are in such a royal color.” Geoffrey’s eyes fell to her bosom and lingered as he reached to bestow a kiss on her gloved hand.
At dinner, Serena sensed Geoffrey’s intense scrutiny throughout the meal. It discomforted her to no small extent. He did this deliberately. Damn him.
“Lady Serena, do you limit yourself to the woodland creatures in your sketchbook?” Lord Geoffrey asked, a bit of chocolate trifle poised on his spoon.
She inhaled. “Midnight skies are a favorite. I can sketch them from my balcony in the quiet of the night. I am also fond of painting Sheba, though it is difficult when the subject refuses to stand still.”
“I should like to see more of your work,” Geoffrey commented. “Do you always sketch in charcoal first?”
“Yes. I can draw quickly. The frogs tend to leap about.” She laughed with him.
“Do you think you could sketch me?” Lord Geoffrey’s devilish blue eyes twinkled.
No man should have eyes that blue.
“I could try,” she replied. “I would have to assure I have enough of the cerulean blue oil to give credence to your eyes. And you would have to sit still and refrain from movement. Is that a possibility, Lord Geoffrey?”
“Yes, I understand. Would it be convenient tomorrow after the hunt?” Geoffrey turned to his host. “You do not object, do you, Henry?”
“No, it will keep you both occupied. My sister has a studio with a wall of windows to capture the light. Her maid is a proper chaperone. I believe Serena’s talent will surprise you, Geoffrey.”
“I feel you could be right.”
“I say, let us retire to the drawing room. It’s just we three. Please join us, Serena.”
They followed him through the portrait-lined corridor, down the inlaid marble stairs, through the double doors. She chose to sit on a tufted chair. A whirlwind of thoughts enveloped her.
For many reasons Serena had a deep desire to be more cosmopolitan, a true independent woman of the world. First, she needed to be free of her brother’s guardianship. Her intuition told her never to trust him again. She’d find a way to become a peeress of the realm. The second reason was because her interest in the Duke grew to proportions she’d never believed of herself. Their banter enticed. She wanted to know more about seduction. Was it such a strange notion for a widowed woman who reviled her husband’s touch to never know what most of society talked about? Was a rake good or bad, or someone in between? Reading about it in penny romance novels wasn’t the same as experiencing it.
Henry chose to pour from the decanters and dismissed the servant.
Geoffrey sat opposite her in a leather wing chair.
“Sister, what is your pleasure, a sherry?”
You don’t want to know, Henry. It might shock you. A small smile curled. “No sherry. Perhaps cognac?” She favored a man’s drink and had no qualms about the strong taste since its sedative qualities had eased her pain when her late husband beat her.
He handed her a crystal snifter. Serena waited for him to pour the aged brew into their glasses. They raised their drinks to him. “Cheers for a good hunt.”
Henry sat in the other leather chair.
“Will you attend tomorrow, Lady Serena?” Geoffrey peered at his pocket watch.
“It is too much of a blood sport for me, my lord Duke. I prefer to paint the animals rather than slaughter them, for I care about nature and all it offers.”
“A typical female reaction,” her brother scoffed. “I need to retrieve something from the library. Please excuse me for a few moments.” He placed his glass on the desk and walked out of the room.
“So we are alone again.” Geoffrey took another sip of the amber liquid.
“It appears so, my lord, but it is not of my doing. I am surprised you managed to get Henry’s permission to visit my studio tomorrow.”
“I always get what I want.” Geoffrey ran a finger over his lower lip. “You and I have a date with destiny.”
“What a pity I don’t share your desire, my Lord Duke,” she teased. “Exactly what is the fate of which you speak?”
He walked to her chair and stood behind her. “I believe we both know the answer to that. All evening I envisioned your jet black hair pooled on a pillow—my pillow.”
The touch of his hand as he caressed her long curls, bestirred her, but the mood dissipated when he stroked her back. She stiffened and rose to put some distance between them.
“It will never happen,” she answered. She found it hard to breathe, her pulse raced. The staccato beat of her heart thundered in her ears. Serena was annoyed by the self-confidence and arrogance that emanated from him.
A pin in her hair came loose, and she replaced it with trembling fingers, but it fell to the floor again. Geoffrey reached for it and placed it in his pocket.
Had a lightning bolt struck her?
“I am uncomfortable with you behind me. I know your intentions.” Serena turned and faced him. “I am not a biddable woman. At your peril, I dare you to fall in love with me.”
His laugh boomed. “If I do?”
Serena enjoyed his amused tone. Her gaze lingered on his full lips, more kissable than before.
“Tell me why I should bother to give my heart to you. Could we not slip under the sheets and have our wanton ways with each other? We should avail ourselves of the opportunity at hand.”
“I would bring you to your knees, make you beg for more.” She enjoyed the verbal jousting, damning herself for lack of experience. This combative brazenness warmed her. Although fraught with fear, the new possibilities excited her as well. A tingling current raced up her spine.
Another jolt of lightning?
“More of what?” he challenged. Geoffrey waited for a reply.
“Everything you desire.” Serena flippantly answered, rearranging her tendril that fell out of place.
“The woman does not exist who can beggar me. They plead with me.” He chuckled when her lips quivered and her dark eyes danced a tango. The words that mocked caught her attention.
“She does exist, your Grace. You have met her.” Her haughty laugh brightened her face.
“You make a good adversary. Our time together will test our wills.” His hand leaned into his chin. “Which dare would I prefer?” His question teased as his arms pulled her close. “Love you? Love you not? Love is more than a dare, Serena. Some things are not measured in time, but in memorable moments.”
His last statement careened through her soul. Her times with her late husband, Trystan, had not been worthy of memory.
Yet she continued. “Love is everything. Although sometimes love is not enough. Or perhaps it is too much.” Serena remembered how she loved Trystan before they married; before he turned into a monster; before he inflicted pain to her body. She held Geoffrey’s attention, then pressed her palms against his chest and pushed away.
“What keeps my brother?” She walked to the other side of the room. Serena turned. “Let us stop this game. You are a hunter. I am not your prey, Lord Geoffrey. In my opinion, you are quite beyond redemption.”
“Geoffrey. Call me Geoffrey. We are alone,” he taunted. “I like the way my name sounds when it rolls from your mouth.
You are not aware your tongue wets your bottom lip when you speak my name?” He strode toward her.
Serena turned her back to him and before she took a step, he stood behind her. “Do not come closer. You frighten me.”
He didn’t honor her words. “There is no need to be afraid.” Geoffrey laved the side of her neck just below her ear. “I wish you to think and savor this tonight, in your bedroom, alone, when you could be with me.” The velvet touch of his lips devastated her with its gentleness. Her breath caught when he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against him.
Geoffrey’s body radiated a blasting heat, which sent waves of pleasure to parts of her that had never experienced the sensation before. His devil mouth became more persuasive than she cared to admit. He nibbled at her earlobe and the sensation seared downward like a seductive song that flowed through her veins. Yearning overcame her.
“There is more to me than bed sport, Geoffrey.” Her voice came out low, sultry and wanton, even to her.
“How do you know there is not more to me than a mere frolic? There is a first time for everything,” he taunted.
“You see. You take. You leave.” The words didn’t come easy and caught in her throat.
“Perhaps, if the encounter is from boredom. However, I do not think such will happen with you, Serena.” His breath fanned her ear, sending shivers down her spine and then right back up again in a vortex that careened to her center.
He moved his hand to her breast and found a nipple that grew taut under his touch. Her thoughts flew to his machinations with the French clock.
Would she survive this night? Could he manipulate her in the same way?
“Shame on you. Leave me be, you rogue.” Her words were a shallow protest when she was unable to move away from him. The exploration of his hand and lips made her dizzy with need.
“I cannot. Nor do I want to.”
“Why?” Her heart pounded. She gasped for air at the madness of his continued foreplay. Her body overpowered her will. Wet and slick, her lower regions swelled with…desire?
“I want a taste of you.” His voice soothed and intoxicated at the same time.
His simple answer sent shivers throughout her body. The sensuous spark they shared earlier by the lake became fireworks. Filled by lustful desire, she needed to touch him.
“No, Geoffrey. No more,” she pleaded. “This is wrong.”
Serena removed his hand and turned to face him. She strived to restrain her wanton emotions and control her physical urges—wicked twins. How could she convince him she did not want him, when his touch demanded? Damn him.
Geoffrey desired her, body and soul. “Let me come to you tonight.” His voice whisper-soft while his hands circled her midriff and pulled her close to his rigid frame. His body offered her a choice. His eyes beckoned.
“No.” Her reply was determined, but her eyes flashed something else. The touch of her feather-light finger upon his face sent a shiver of pleasure through him when she traced the bruise she inflicted.
“I wish for this to go away. Your handsome face has endured enough.”
To his surprise, she caressed the length of his marked cheek with her lips. The heart-rending tenderness moved him. A simple kiss from her, but he reeled from all it conveyed. Deep and profound, the undeniable emotional power her lips conveyed stunned him.
The ornamental silent knight in polished armor stood vigil against the wall in witness of the enormous gesture.
Chapter Four
Geoffrey Austen knew a legion of seductive women, but this one beckoned like a siren to a sailor lost at sea. From his experiences, he knew Serena would succumb to his advances, and soon the chase would be over. He wanted to prolong the journey and enjoy her feminine wiles as he would a fine aged wine with a distinct bouquet. His desire would be sated. They would become engulfed in the flames of passion together just like the images that kept him awake at night predicted. When the affair was over, would he forget her, as he’d done so many others? No, this one might be a bit harder to push from his mind and his heart.
He sensed she harbored secrets and knew he would have to gain her trust to learn them. She surrounded herself in mystery and double entendres. Sometimes she inferred, but never revealed. At other times, she diverted the conversation.
Footsteps alerted them and they stepped apart just before her brother returned. “Sorry that took so long.” After he placed a ledger in a drawer, Henry refilled his brandy glass. “You two are quiet. Is something amiss?” Henry’s eyes held Serena’s.
She opened her lips to speak when Geoffrey answered. “Nothing is wrong, Henry, though I wonder if you hope to entrap me by allowing me to be alone with your vivacious sister,” he added with obvious humor to disarm the situation. “She does tempt me. Do you toy with me? Is your shotgun at the ready?”
“There is no need for you to worry, Lord Geoffrey.” Serena defended. “I seek not marriage with you or anyone else. Henry knows that, although he is always after me to settle down again. I long for serenity. If I were to fall in love…” She looked away from both of them.
Henry pounded his friend on the back. “No, Geoffrey. I would not do that to you, but I will warn you, my sister is not to be trifled with. She is out of bounds. I know you too well, you scoundrel, and would surmise your sojourn in France and Italy has corrupted you further. You may look at the beauty within my home to your heart’s content, but you cannot touch.”
Geoffrey reared backward, his brows quizzed. “Henry, you know I am not a man to be leg shackled. I am much too young for marriage. I certainly would not entertain your dear sister if my intentions were not honorable.”
He, too, refilled his glass and took a hearty gulp, not to quench his thirst, but to calm his racing blood. He foraged in dangerous territory. He knew for a fact that forbidden fruit tasted the sweetest. In all honesty, he wouldn’t invite any relationship except for bed sport. Yet he found Serena an enigma and so unlike the arctic debutantes his mother preferred.
Serena stepped forward, her arms crossed tightly. “Know this, Henry, if and when I marry, it will be my choice and not someone you select for me. I am my own person, brother.”
“By law, until you remarry, I am your legal guardian, sister. This conversation is inappropriate in front of a guest.”
“As were your instructions that I was only to be worshipped from afar.”
Geoffrey saw her bite her lower lip in contemplation.
“When and whom I decide to bed will be of my own timing, and you will have no say in the matter, Henry.”
Geoffrey admired the fact Serena didn’t back down in fear or pretended false modesty. She challenged at every juncture and it was an allure. She would be a significant conquest, a special notch on his bedpost. One he would always remember.
“Serena, your words are despicable, that of a wanton—”
“Lady?” Serena glared at Geoffrey. “Perhaps you do not know me at all, brother.”
She walked to the pianoforte, opened the keyboard cover. “We need some music. Shall I play? Do you prefer Chopin or Mozart?”
Henry stood, his mouth agape, speechless at her daring.
“Play your favorite,” Geoffrey suggested. “May I change pages for you?” He joined her at the piano.
She sat in utter calmness on the carved Chippendale bench. “If you would like to hear a favored piece, I do not need you to turn pages. I know it by heart.”
Geoffrey stood at the curved side of the instrument, an unobstructed view of the magnificent Serena. He took his fill of her. His gaze encompassed her form and again found it worthy of further inspection. Her creamy skin held a slight blush. His eyes met hers—dark as a starless night. His lady.
She lowered her thick black lashes, ran her fingers over the keys in flawless execution. The satin soft skin of her shoulders beckoned again. How he wanted to nestle his head between her breasts and suckle to his heart’s content. He knew if he continued with these thoughts, he would be hard,
something he couldn’t hide from Henry.
When she finished a portion of Chopin’s Fifth Symphony, Geoffrey applauded. “My lady, I enjoyed your exquisite rendition. You have so many talents.” His eyes belied the sentiment, yet other thoughts plagued him—she was temptation personified.
Serena thanked him and turned to her brother, “Henry, I am quite fatigued. I must bid you good night.” Her lips grazed his forehead.
“Yes, that would be best, all things considered.” Henry fumbled with the buttons on his vest. She curtsied to Geoffrey. “Thank you for a delightful evening. I bid you good night, Lord Geoffrey.”
He half bowed. “Oh, my dear lady, the pleasure was all mine.”
When he kissed her hand, she whispered, “Naughty, naughty.”
Serena left the room and a footman escorted her to a waiting carriage.
“I have never heard my sister speak with such boldness. It is an affront to me.”
“Henry, why is your sister not yet married?” Geoffrey inquired.
“Serena has been a widow for a year, the proper mourning period. We have our differences. I wish for her to make a strong political marriage in the best interests of our family. She, however, seeks a true love. I do not think such things exist. Of course, I have never been in such a besotted state. Serena is strong-willed, yet she usually accepts my guidance. This defiance is new to me.” Henry took another sip of the liqueur.
“What say you, Geoffrey? You’ve the reputation of a rake. With the many women you have bedded, did you ever fall in love with any of them?”
“I am not sure I know what love is. There came a time I thought love pierced, but she proved unworthy. Perhaps I fell in love more with the chase and conquest than with any one woman. Though, I admit, after a while the game grows tiresome.” He placed his hand to his temple then emptied his glass.
“My mother is anxious for an heir and she brings acceptable women to my attention. To my misfortune, they are replicas of her. I never saw real affection toward my father by my mother. Why would one want a cold existence when you could warm your bed with a temptress?”
Geoffrey walked to stand in front of the fireplace, and placed one hand on the mantel.
Once Upon a Duke Page 3
