Once Upon a Duke

by Sandra Masters

  He held his sword and pistol. Lord Geoffrey shouted, “I challenge you to a personal duel, LeBran, to the death—a l’outrance. I came to claim my woman and free her from your imprisonment.”

  “Why should I? I have more men than you. Besides she and her maid are locked in their bedrooms. You will have to fight all of us.”

  An amused smile curved Geoffrey’s face. “I will be joined by more men in a few moments. Perhaps you are not aware that we are members of the Sacred Order of Mortal Saints and are well trained in weaponry, as well as other renowned skills. You know of our reputation.”

  One of the mercenary’s eyes arched when he heard the Saints name mentioned.

  The boat returned from the schooner and two men rejoined Lord Geoffrey’s band. “The ladies are safe on board, Geoffrey,” one of his men made known.

  Tension filled the air. The pounding waves thundered.

  LeBran’s laugh mocked. “I will get her back after my men kill you.”

  “Aside from being a blackguard, you are also a coward who hides behind mercenaries.” Geoffrey sneered at LeBran. “Who is the group leader?”

  “I am. Leicester is my name.” He stepped forward.

  Geoffrey pointed to the mercenaries. “You are a witness to the fact I challenged this despicable man, who kidnapped my lady, to a personal duel. He beats women. I want to kill him for such savagery to the lady I love.” He shouted to his men. “I aim my pistol at LeBran. You aim yours at Leicester and the others. You gun experts, use two guns, one in each hand, and choose your targets well with a disciplined eye. It should even the odds.”

  The pelting waves roared in answer.

  “We are ready,” Lord Kevin, the military expert, stated.

  Lord Geoffrey held his pistol firm at LeBran. The knife in his wrist scabbard glistened in the moonlight.

  “Leicester,” Lord Geoffrey spoke in a cavalier fashion. “I wish you to understand this is a matter of honor between me and this man. He has paid you for your services. If you stand down, none of your men will be injured. Whoever wins the duel, survives. If LeBran kills me, my men and the ladies will depart and take my body for burial. If I kill LeBran, my honor is satisfied and I win my woman. Whatever the outcome, she is set free of this brute.”

  LeBran yelled. “He bluffs. Shoot them all. I order you.”

  Leicester didn’t command his men to shoot. Instead the mercenary captain signaled his men to stand down.

  “I am also known as the Duke of Sutton. For what you have done, I will pay you double the sum this villain did,” Geoffrey spoke with bravado. “We have an agreement. Should I expire, this man to my right will arrange for payment.”

  Leicester smiled. “All this for the woman you love? I give you my word we will not be the first to start an encounter. I would enjoy seeing such a duel. Will you use pistols or swords?”

  “Since I am the challenger, I choose small swords, my good fellow. A gunshot would be too merciful for this man.”

  Leicester pointed his pistol to LeBran and held out his empty hand. “Give your pistol to me and prepare to fight with your sword and knife.” The mercenaries aimed their weapons at LeBran.

  Lord Geoffrey sheathed his pistol.

  “Damn you all!” LeBran shouted. “I paid you good money to protect me.” He relinquished the weapon.

  “LeBran, perhaps you do not understand the definition of mercenary.” Leicester fingered his moustache. “We are soldiers of fortune and are motivated by personal profit. We will stand watch to assure it is a fair fight.”

  With LeBran under the eye of Leicester, Geoffrey removed his jacket for better mobility.

  “She is a Jezebel,” LeBran stated. “No wonder the likes of you are attracted to her.”

  “For that remark, you will pay. Are you ready?” Lord Geoffrey assumed a defensive stance.

  “Yes.” LeBran seethed. He lunged at Geoffrey who met the parry. He wielded his sword in a circle at LeBran, his feet quick, his manner cool, determined, and precise.

  LeBran attacked again.

  Geoffrey’s sword cut into his shoulder. The wound bled through.

  “Your vile comment earned you that wound.” They circled and summed each other.

  LeBran made a clumsy swing at Geoffrey’s head, missed. Geoffrey retaliated and wounded LeBran’s cheek. “That is my revenge for the bruise you inflicted to Serena’s face.”

  Back and forth they went, with leaps and parries. At one point, both men held each other at bay with crossed swords. Geoffrey was the stronger of the two, but LeBran stood taller. They pushed off and with hunched shoulders the two men took measure, their eyes intent on each other.

  LeBran pretended to pounce, but instead stepped back as Geoffrey charged. LeBran’s sword grazed his thigh.

  Geoffrey saw his opponent’s fear etched in perspiration spotting his face, and he smiled. It was obvious LeBran had tired. Being older, his wide girth slowed him.

  Geoffrey slipped on a wet rock. He fell against the fortress wall. LeBran chuckled and lunged again. Geoffrey sidestepped; his sword found its way into the man’s upper chest with a well-timed thrust.

  The man gasped, the blood surged forth. He dropped his weapon, clutched his wound, and fell to his knees. Lord Geoffrey stood over him as LeBran’s life ebbed away. Victory was his.

  “Well done.” Lord Carleton motioned to his friend. “Let me look at the wound to your leg.”

  “I take no joy in this, though he deserved it. Serena’s brother is the real perpetrator,” Geoffrey declared.

  Lord Carleton took off his cravat and tied it around Geoffrey’s leg. “It is a minor wound.”

  Leicester came to Geoffrey. “You fought a fair fight, your lordship.”

  “I do not carry large sums of money on my person under these circumstances. If you come to Brighton—my estate is known by all—I will direct my banker to supply you with the funds. I thank you for your honorable actions.”

  Leicester bowed in a grand gesture. “I had the pleasure to meet the famed Saints.” He pointed to the body. “What do you want me to do with him?”

  “Return him to his mother who can mourn his passing. I suggest you and your men leave the same way you came, and with haste.”

  They shook hands and took their leave.

  Lord Geoffrey turned to his friends. “I thank you all. This has been quite an adventure. Now I do believe my lady awaits.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The sailors hauled the boats up after the men boarded the ship. The deck heaved and fought against the waves. The salt air reddened Serena’s cheeks. When she inhaled, her lungs filled with—freedom.

  Serena removed her hands from the rail, and Geoffrey went to her. “You waited for me out here? It is cold. Let us go inside. There is a salon somewhere.”

  They walked through a corridor and found an unoccupied stateroom.

  “I feared for you, Geoffrey. Forgive me, for I despaired. Almost three weeks with that monster felt like years.”

  “I do not think you can know how my heart leaps at the sight of you. To be able to have you here like this is a pleasure, Serena. I understand you have LeBran’s sister with you.”

  “Poor Josephine was persecuted by both her mother and brother. There were times he beat her. I’m afraid to ask, what happened?” She clasped his hand and held it tightly.

  “LeBran is no more.”

  “I wish I could feel sorry for his death, but for him, there is no feeling. His mother will be upset.”

  “I prayed in the chapel because it offered sanctuary where I could think of you.” She noticed his bandaged leg. “You are hurt? My excitement overwhelmed me and I did not look with care.”

  “It is minor. I will have a surgeon look at it soon enough.”

  “Please hold me close and kiss me, Geoffrey. I yearn for you so much. I need your strong arms around me. At last, I can breathe without fear.”

  His arms embraced her and he cupped her face in his hands. “You have a bru
ise on your lip.” His fingers feathered her mouth.

  “It happened when I fell to the floor after he struck me. I must have bitten my lip.”

  Geoffrey’s lips mated with hers, in a gentle touch of an anxious lover.

  “Emma showed me the picture you drew of us with Adonis. I read the words you wrote there, along with your letters.” He took a step backwards and held her shoulders in his hands. He stooped so his eyes held hers. “I have been such a fool. Will you marry me and make my life complete?” Geoffrey held Serena close and whispered, “I want to have a child with you. One we will love together and that I will teach to tie sailor knots.”

  “What if our first child is a girl?” she asked in jest.

  “I will teach you both. We have a brilliant future together, my Sultana.”

  “Geoffrey, you banished my demons and created a wonderful world for me. Yes, my dear one, I will marry you. Hold me close. I need to know you are real.” Tears escaped her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

  “Do not cry, Serena. The worst is over. When I thought you deceived me, I made a mess of things. I thought ill of you. Lord Carleton tried to be a good companion, but life could never be the same without you in it.”

  Geoffrey pulled her closer, sought her lips, his mouth gentle yet urgent. “Ah, how I missed your sweet taste. I used to think myself a patient man. Now, I wish for everyone to go away and for us to be as we were in your studio with Adonis.” His lips grazed hers again and she opened her mouth to him. Geoffrey’s tongue found its mate.

  Her arms flew around his neck. “I love you, Geoffrey, more than you will ever know.”

  “I love you, too, dearest Serena.”

  Geoffrey took deep savoring breaths that filled the silent room. To have her with him once again meant the world to him. The back of his fingers caressed her cheek. His lips moistened, and he feathered the tip of her nose. His chin above her head, he whispered, “I would like to continue this, but first things first. I do not want to take the chance your brother will again have other ambitions for you.” He moved away. “He is still your legal guardian. When we arrive at the harbor, a carriage awaits to take us to the abbey where we will marry. Lord Carleton, my oldest friend, has offered to be my best man.”

  Both hands went to her cheeks. “You have made plans for us to marry already? I dreamed of marrying you, but not in such haste.” He saw the astonished look cross her face as her hands crunched her garment. “This is not a wedding ensemble that I wear.”

  Geoffrey reached out and twined his fingers to hers. “Come, and look into my eyes. Can you not see the love I hold for you in them? Underneath this greatcoat are torn shirt sleeves and bloody breeches.” His smile curled when he recognized her skittishness. “I do believe Carleton’s cravat adorns my wound.” He brought her to him. “Will you marry me today even though we are both in tatters.”

  Wide eyes pierced his. “Tatters will have do, my lord Duke.”

  “If you wish, when we get to London, we can marry again in St. Paul’s Cathedral with all pomp and circumstance,” he coaxed, to allay her disappointment.

  “No, my love, a vow is a vow no matter where it is taken,” she sobbed and the words muffled into his coat until she pulled away so he could hear, “Yes, I will marry you, but only if you kiss me again.”

  “A request I can accommodate, my lady.”

  He tilted her head to him, placed a finger under her chin, “How I have missed these luscious lips. Do you know how inviting they are to a man who yearns to do so much more?” Geoffrey touched a dark tendril in her hair and curled it around his finger. “I am in love with you, and besotted. Imagine that. You have redeemed a rake.”

  Geoffrey bestowed a wicked smile. “By the by, do you still have the harem outfit?”

  He saw her eyes sparkle, long lashes lowered, and then raised in a most provocative way, “Yes, I hid it in the ante-room along with my jewels. We will have to retrieve all of my things.”

  “All will be done in good time, my lady.” He rose and went to pour a drink. “How you tempt me.”

  “Geoffrey, when next I wear that costume for you, I should like to pretend I am a Sultana and you are my captive. “

  “Me? Captive?” He spilled the whiskey on his vest while his chest heaved in laughter and echoed off the walls.

  “Yes. I have ordered your hands to be tied to the bedposts.” Her mouth opened in invitation.

  “And then, my love, what happens?” He watched as Serena sauntered to him, her finger circled the spot on his vest where the whiskey had spotted and brought the digit to her mouth.

  “Hmm. Why, I taunt you, bare myself, and you beg me to seduce you.”

  “Beg, Serena? I do not beg.” His lips were a whisper breath away; his hand caressed the soft skin below her throat. His finger stroked downward, then up again, and he bestowed a salacious smile. “If I do not?”

  He felt her remove his hand. She rubbed the stubble on his face, her finger shadowed his scar, and she stood tall. “I walk away and leave you in a full arousal.”

  “If this is a rehearsal, my dear, it has achieved results, but I do not know how to beg.”

  She pulled away from him, turned, and looked over her shoulder, “I am inclined to show you mercy because you are a fine specimen of manhood. You will only have to say one word.” She faced him again, a few steps the only barrier between them.

  “And that word is?” His grin curled the edges of his mouth.

  “Please. That should not be too difficult, even for you, my lord Duke.”

  “Dukes never say that particular word. Do you expect me to get down on one knee?”

  “No, not on one knee. Maybe two?” she pushed him further.

  “You go too far, Serena.”

  “You will call me by my title—Sultana. The reward will be great, my captive.” She leaned into him and swayed. Her hand unfastened her cloak and allowed it to fall to the floor.

  He inhaled when he saw the rise and fall of her breasts. His fingers clenched his chin. “And if I speak the begging word, what will you do?”

  “I will offer myself to you, climb on top of your body, ride you astride until you can bear no more—and ravish you. Oh, I can see this when I close my eyes, can you?”

  He closed his eyes. “Yes, I can.” His heart pounded, and he swore he could feel every beat. “Will you untie my hands so I can touch you?” His voice growled.

  “Yes, but you will have to say please again.”

  “I shall remember to have that utterance added to my litany of words. Look at what you have done to me.”

  He jerked when she placed the palm of her hand on his arousal. “My wanton Sultana, you are indeed wicked. I look forward to begging, and to ravishment, but if you do not remove your hand, I will come apart.”

  “Dear Geoffrey, I shall show you clemency again then. Consider it your training.”

  He exhaled deeply, opened his eyes and chuckled. “I do believe this is how we became introduced when we first met.” He removed her hand with reluctance. “Shall we join the others? It has gotten warm here.”

  He extended his arm and she accepted. “I am glad I rescued you and cannot wait to collect your appreciation.”

  “All in good time, Lord Geoffrey.”

  “There is no doubt I love you. You are a changed woman. I am enamored of who you have become.”

  Her mouth lifted in invitation.

  “Then I am glad you like her, because she is here to stay. Shall we?” Serena blew him a kiss and arched her brow. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Not as much as I love you.” Geoffrey kissed her and his lips lingered at the sweet taste. “Somehow the thought of captivity in your arms holds an appeal.”

  Geoffrey picked up her cloak, covered her and opened the door to the salon where they entered and hailed the group.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Serena and Geoffrey watched Lord Carleton and Lady Josephine from across the room. They rejoiced at the easy w
ay they related with each other.

  “I asked my old friend to escort Josephine around London in our absence, chaperoned by Emma. It appeared I imposed on him, but I wonder if he might find enjoyment at the prospect.” He didn’t mention to Serena the slight problem Madame Angelique, Lord Carleton’s mistress, could present.

  “He is quite handsome with his honey brown hair and those China-blue eyes.” Serena studied them in interest.

  “Should I be concerned about his eyes?” Geoffrey’s smile mocked.

  “Lord Geoffrey, No. Never. My story started with you and so shall it end, with you.”

  Geoffrey blew her a kiss and praised his good fortune. He looked out the porthole and announced they were about to enter Brighton’s harbor. The crew lowered the sails.

  “Welcome to Brighton, my dear one, this is where we boarded.”

  With utmost efficiency the crew landed the vessel. The captain handed him a small chest, which he’d held in safekeeping for the Duke. “I am relieved all went well, your Grace. Those rocks were a risky business. Is it time to leave for your ceremony?”

  “Yes, we are both anxious.”

  The captain’s words warmed. “Congratulations on your nuptials to a most attractive lady. Best wishes for your future happiness.” He bowed to Lady Serena.

  “Your help was invaluable, Captain. I would have you give these coins to your crewmembers with my thanks for all their efforts and loyalties.” He handed a small pouch to the seafarer.

  He extended his arm to Serena. “Our carriages wait.”

  They came down the gangway where a footman waited, in colorful livery, opened the door for Geoffrey and his lady. They ascended into the conveyance.

  The others followed in the other coaches as a convoy. As arranged, Geoffrey’s carriage rode in the center in a precautionary measure. “Alone at last,” he whispered.

  “Yes, Geoffrey, but you seem to have a concern this venture is not over. I noticed your men are armed.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past your brother to attempt to stop our ceremony.”

  “Geoffrey, I’ve had enough fear instilled in me for a lifetime.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Will this ever be over?”