Once Upon a Duke

by Sandra Masters

  At the sight of his gentleness when he put the puppy back into his basket, in that singular moment, she knew this man wouldn’t harm her. The black and white bundle of fur curled into a ball and slept.

  Lord Geoffrey rose and reached to her, took her face gently in his hands and brushed her lips lightly. “Open up to me.” He pulled her close.

  Her arms wound around his neck, her mouth begged him to plunder.

  He did. He ran his fingers through her hair and locked his lips to hers. It became a mystical revelation. He looked deeply into her eyes. “You cause me dreams I wish to see come to life. Will you continue to deny my pleasure and let an arousal go to waste again and again? Touch me,” he whispered.

  Geoffrey saw the fear in her wide-eyed gaze. He stroked her cheek, then took her hand, kissed her palm and placed it against him where he pulsed with desire. He moaned. Her touch nearly sent him over the edge.

  “You do torment me. I want to show you how enjoyable our lovemaking can be. Let me carry you to your bed. You need never be afraid of me, sweeting. I would never hurt you.”

  Geoffrey enjoyed her gentle touch. Serena jerked her hand from his rock-hard member. Her body trembled.

  “I want to please you. You don’t understand. I cannot be loved.”

  Their eyes locked. “Why do you test me?”

  Serena worried how he’d feel about her scarred body. Even though he would be aroused, he might interrupt the lovemaking, but then repudiate himself that he didn’t stop, but instead took his release with a woman he couldn’t stand to look upon otherwise.

  “You do not know the entire truth about me. Forgive me, I cannot give myself to you knowing full well you would satisfy your need and then rebuke your weakness for it. You would not desire to see me again.”

  “What will it take to break through your shell? Is it a commitment you demand?”

  “If I demanded it and you did not offer, you’d wound me. I want a man who will be faithful to me as I will be to him. I do not believe you can do that, especially when you see my naked body. Your history testifies to this. You turned my head with the puppy and I melted. I’m sorry. It’s not my intent to hurt you. I care for you. It is complicated and hard to explain. Can we not remain friends? I do not wish to toy with your affections.”

  “Friendship is not a circumstance I could share with you, Serena. Let me come to you tonight. Lay with me. Let me love away your fears.”

  She turned away. “I cannot. I’m not a normal woman, Geoffrey. There will always be fear. It could take a lifetime to explain. Know the desire I feel for you clutches at my heart like the insidious torment of a satanic beast.” Serena wiped away tears.

  “Please move to the chair so I can regain my composure. Let me finish the sketch.”

  Geoffrey turned from her, went to the chair and allowed her to pose him. Frustration replaced his desire. God’s blood, what would it take to break down the walls she erected around herself?

  His eyes beheld the confused expression on Serena’s face as she worked on the portrait. When could she trust him enough to reveal her secrets? What ill fortune did that monster of a husband commit upon her?

  The dread of what her desire unleashed was real. He found it difficult to speak. Time moved too slowly. He started to fidget. She must have recognized that his patience was at an end.

  “Shall I ring for tea? I think we are finished for this afternoon.” She rinsed her hands in the basin of water and dried them on her apron.

  “No tea, thank you.” He stood. “I don’t wish to see the portrait either. I prefer a surprise.” He picked up his riding crop and hat. “The pup might wake soon. You will want to call your maid to walk him. Once the chore is finished, Emma can feed him.”

  “I’m sorry I made you angry.” She went to him, touched his arm.

  He recoiled. “I do not leave in anger, but in aggravation. It seems nothing I do will unfreeze your frigid heart. Why did your husband beat you? Did you deny him his conjugal rights? It reminds me of my mother. Perhaps your denial of my seduction is best.”

  “I wish I could make you understand, Geoffrey.”

  “Good afternoon, Serena.” He quickly exited, and slammed the door.

  He mounted his horse and rode hard. The wind blew unwanted thoughts from his mind. Upon his return to the manor house, he found himself alone in the drawing room and assumed everyone was busy dressing for dinner.

  Geoffrey went to his room and headed for the decanter of brandy. He stared into the snifter he’d filled and his mind clouded. He didn’t know how to read her.

  She responds to my touch and allows me great liberties, widow or not. But she cannot succumb. Why? What demon possesses her? Do her religious beliefs forbid bed sport without marriage? How often had she read that worn Bible on her table?

  Her brute of a husband was responsible for the wall she hid behind. It became a dauntless endeavor to break down her inhibitions, even for him. He wouldn’t manipulate her. With Serena, he didn’t want to. Somehow, it’d become paramount that she give herself to him of her own free will.

  His valet came to attend him. Yet his mind still pondered. During this visit to her studio, he made her the center of his attention. Tonight at dinner, he would be cool and inattentive. After all, he could not let her treat him as a toy on a string.

  When Lord Geoffrey arrived in the drawing room, greetings were exchanged. Serena was seated and conversing with her brother. She wore emerald green this night and it complemented her beautiful ivory skin. Pearl-tipped pins entwined her chignon. Geoffrey’s heart skipped a beat, her beauty overruling his determination to ignore her.

  He took a seat in a straight-backed chair and visited with the other guests. At an appropriate moment, he glanced toward Henry.

  “What have you been up to, Geoffrey?” Sir Henry asked.

  “Brisk rides, long walks, and backbreaking poses for my portrait, which I am told will soon be completed.”

  “I hear the stables have lost a puppy,” her brother chided.

  “News travels fast, it seems,” Geoffrey added. “They crave love and protection. I have a fondness for puppies.” He grinned. “I am guilty as charged.”

  “At least the puppy will remain in our family,” Sir Henry muttered, tugging at his cravat. “When do you leave, Geoffrey? I know you have business that awaits your attention.”

  “Unless you are anxious to see me gone, in three days I return to London. My mother has debutantes she wants to flaunt. I do declare she never stops plotting to end my bachelorhood. The more she parades them, the more adamant my refusal. Sooner or later she will tire, at least that is my hope. Excuse me, I need to chat with Lord Winston.”

  He stood and nodded to Henry and Serena. Geoffrey walked toward the other side of the room to share a few words with the Earl and his lady.

  Serena was alone. Her fan ruffled the air around her. Her wide eyes appeared to implore him. How could he resist? He went to her. He was a glutton for punishment.

  “My Lady, I do believe the color of your dress suits you. Is your mood jade green or emerald? There is a difference, you know. Jade is tame while emerald excites.” He stood, rocking on his heels. He continued without waiting for a response. “If you insist on waving your fan with such force, you will upset my hair.” Geoffrey placed a strand of his hair in place.

  Serena laughed, folding the fan in her lap. “You remind me of a schoolboy who has been chastised for a transgression and wishes for everyone to know it did not matter,” she chided.

  “You are wrong, Serena. It did matter. Or perhaps you became so involved in your own self-pity you cared not to notice? Shame on you.” Geoffrey adjusted his waistcoat and flicked a wayward piece of lint.

  “I notice everything about you.”

  “Notice is one thing, Serena, to take action is another. However, I grow weary of the game.” He turned and gazed about the room. “I do not appreciate a tease that provokes but does not gratify. Perhaps, my lady, I should give you o
ne more chance.” His brow lifted. “Or maybe you would like to fall into my arms and touch me again? A simple effort to quench my burning need, perhaps?”

  He would wager on her answers to that request. “Is there anything you would like to do this evening? Whist? Reading? Or perhaps you might care to play the pianoforte again, Serena?”

  “You would have me behave like a harlot?” she hissed.

  “No. Just misbehave as a woman,” Geoffrey answered with a crisp calm. “Serena, I am a man, not a popinjay.”

  “You are a cad to speak so to me. You want me, but I am not a caprice to be used and left behind. You have your standards, your Grace, and I have mine.” She looked away as her eyes brimmed.

  Would she cry? If she did, he would be obliged to kiss her tears away, sweep her into his arms and take her to his bed.

  God’s blood. Henry would pound on the door, and demand a duel.

  “Your brother stares at me. Does he think I care for you? Perhaps you are wise not to yield to my rakish ways. To be quite frank, I do not care anymore. I can forget I ever met you, if need be.” His eyes lay her bare. “I want more than a friendship from you, Serena, and I will not abide by your terms.”

  His words sounded aloof and unconcerned even to his ears. He hoped he might evoke some emotion in her. He hated himself for every harsh word he uttered. It had worked well before with other women, but this night he had inflicted pain he’d not intended. The hurt was apparent in her eyes. His heart fell in a million pieces at her feet, but he could not allow her to know it.

  Damn her, what had she done to him?

  Serena had so far refused to acknowledge the sting of his words. It was obvious he’d provoked her.

  She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, whipped open her fan again and marched toward him. “Geoffrey, I have decided to name the puppy Adonis, after the handsome Greek youth who Zeus allowed to lodge between the two worlds of light and dark. Adonis loved two women, but a boar killed him. Not sure why, Zeus took pity on the mortal man and allowed him to divide his time between the two. Which would you choose, Geoffrey? Would it be Aphrodite in the light of day or Persephone in the underworld by night?”

  “I am familiar with the myth, but if I did have a choice, I would choose you whether you resided in heaven or hell.”

  He’d broken his resolve with those spoken words. He wouldn’t let her taunt him further.

  Geoffrey nodded to her and walked away.

  Chapter Ten

  Henry, with Arabella at his side, walked toward Geoffrey. “You seem pensive tonight. Have we run out of events to amuse you?”

  “It is never a question of amusement, Sir Henry, but rather it is the opportunities which present themselves. There is much on my mind.”

  Geoffrey turned to the woman. “Tell me, Miss Arabella, do you like teaching at school?”

  “Your Grace, I find it a reward to help educate our ladies, and it brings me fulfillment. It has made my life a worthwhile endeavor. Young minds are so precious. Perhaps one of them will become famous and remember I taught her.” She sighed. “There are not many opportunities for the maidens in the rural areas, but that’s another story.”

  Sir Henry hung on her every word like a besotted adolescent. “You do not prefer to aspire to something else? The topics you teach, I am told, deal with arithmetic, history, geography and my favorite, current events. Why so?”

  “Because our founder, Lord Winston’s sister, believes a woman should become involved in political matters, to stand by her husband’s side, as an equal, and assist in the accomplishment of his goals.”

  Geoffrey noted her artful way with words and surmised Henry had a tiger by the tail. He should tell Henry not to be a snob. If Arabella was the woman that put a song in his heart, he should act upon it. Life should be lived and savored. He kept his own hypocritical counsel. Instead, Geoffrey said to his host, “The day has exhausted me. I shall excuse myself and retire. I plan to ride Solomon tomorrow at sunrise, test his leg, and be sure he’s fully recovered.”

  “Of course, Lord Geoffrey.”

  He bade all good night, and went to his room. Alone in his chamber, Geoffrey paced, restless and wild. Damnation. Every muscle in his body tightened like he was strapped to a medieval torture screw. Perhaps he should prepare to leave in the morning.

  Would Serena beg him to stay? Sleep beckoned. He undressed and got under the covers. Chaotic dreams of a beautiful exotic beauty that held him captive disturbed his slumber.

  The clock chimes at midnight awakened him. Geoffrey found it impossible to fall back to sleep, so he dressed in his breeches, lawn shirt, jacket and boots. After descending the staircase, he silently made his way to the kitchen door and left the manor house.

  He walked the path to the lake. There in the moonlight he saw a dream-like image. Serena stood at the water’s edge. In the shadows, a lantern cast light on her shift and a towel that rested on the log bench. She waded further from the edge, playfully slapping the water with her hands. Her form indeed was voluptuous to the eye—all female and a definite temptation.

  Lord Geoffrey continued his silent vigil until he saw her ready to return to the bank, then made himself known. “What do we have here?” he taunted, holding her shift and cloth in his hands. “Is this a lake nymph come to greet me?”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts and didn’t turn, but retreated into the deeper water. “Get out of here, you brute.”

  “I will, but if I leave, your night shift and towel go with me. Or, I could wait here until you get cold enough to need my warmth to stop your shivers? It is your choice, my lady. I had reserved this night for you.”

  “I cannot come out. I am naked, you horrible man. Please let me have my chemise. Be decent even though I know that is most difficult for you.”

  “If you continue to insult me, I may walk away, and you will need to follow me in order to apologize for your insolence to a Duke. Were you not taught manners and grace?”

  “I would ask you the same.” One hand and arm covered her breasts and the other went lower.

  “You are a temptation, my lady, a Botticelli Venus.” He hoped to fluster her further. “I could look at you all night.” He sat on the bench. “Perhaps I shall.” He hummed a soft tune and waited a minute. “It is getting warm out here. Maybe I should join you in the water?”

  “No! Don’t you dare.”

  “You seem to like to use the word dare, do you not?” He grinned.

  “Please leave my garment and walk away.”

  “Come out. I will not look. I’ll close my eyes, you have my word.”

  “The word of a professed rake? You expect me to trust you? Impossible animal is what you are. You are a heathen, too. In heaven’s mercy, please go away.”

  “In that case…” He smiled, dropped her shift, and removed his shirt and boots.

  “Stop. No closer.”

  “When you say No, I take it as a challenge.” He removed his breeches, slipped out of them, and waded into the water.

  A full moon brightened the lake. He liked the way she stared at him in wide-eyed apprehension. Geoffrey romped through the water until he stood in front of her. She turned, her hands at her sides, her back exposed to him. Moonlight reflected a mark on her flesh.

  “Have you been injured, Serena?” He placed his finger against her back.

  “It is useless. I cannot hide my ugliness any more. You have discovered my secret shame.” Serena faced him. Her voice trembled and her eyes lowered.

  “Who did this to you? I demand to know.” He touched her.

  She sobbed, hiding her face in her hands.

  “No, do not turn away. Let me help you,” Geoffrey said.

  He scooped her in his arms, splashed his way to the grassy knoll, and sat her on the bench. The lantern light showed clearly the marks on her back. He helped her into her chemise then he placed his shirt tightly around her to calm the tremors. He stooped and rubbed her legs to get the blood circulating
. He’d been a fool to keep her in the water like that.

  “Do not move.” Quick to don his breeches, Geoffrey sat next to her on the wooden bench. “Come to me. I won’t hurt you.” His arms encircled her shoulders and he cradled her. “I offer you the warmth of my body, Serena. It’s adequate for both of us.” He pulled her close, nestled her head against his shoulder. “Answer me, my sweet Serena. Are your scars the reason you will not give yourself to me?” He tilted her chin to him. “Did you think I would find you repulsive?”

  “Yes.” Tears trickled down her cheeks.

  “Your husband did this, did he not? If he were not already dead, I would kill him myself—a slow painful death.”

  She sniffled. “You honor me with your vow.”

  Flashes of the portrait of her late husband with the evil eyes ran through his mind. Her depiction of him reflected the truth.

  She raised one hand and placed it in the nest of fur on his chest. Her touch ignited strong emotions—fury—desire—compassion—sympathy, each one in combat with the others. He wanted retribution for the wrongs done to her, but vengeance would not be his.

  Serena sobbed. He rocked her in his arms while his lips tasted her salty tears. He kissed her temple. “Shush, love. Those scars don’t make a difference to me. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known, inside and out.”

  “Are your wounds the reason you come to the lake at night?”

  “The freedom of the water makes me forget…for a short time.”

  “I cannot believe anyone could do this to another human being, most especially their wife. If he did not love you, why did he not take a mistress?”

  “He did take a mistress and also pursued the wives of other men, but it was only with me he found enjoyment to inflict pain. Who would believe me if I were to say anything? With the other women, he was the epitome of kindness.” Again tears flooded her eyes, but her sobs stopped with the words she uttered. “When we were alone, he became a different person. Nothing I did or said appeased him. He was a rabid animal and he took out his rage on me. He forced me to do whatever he demanded. Then he beat me with his razor strap and called me a strumpet.”