Dangerous to Love (50 page)

“There is something I wish to say to you,” he said.

“Flynn, if this has anything to do with Julian Raynor—”

“It has nothing to do with the major, leastways, not the way you mean.”

“Good grief, this must be serious! You are forgetting to drop your aspirates.”

There was no returning smile. “It is serious, Serena.”

Nodding, she led the way into the breakfast room. “The coffee may be tepid,” she said, indicating the silver coffeepot.

“It will do.”

She poured out two cups and handed one to Flynn. “Sit down, Flynn. No need to stand on ceremony with me.”

She didn’t know why she was trembling, didn’t know why she sensed that another blow was coming, but sensing it, she braced herself.

“Major Raynor has made me an offer I’d be a fool to refuse,” said Flynn.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t breathe. Not a muscle betrayed her. “I see,” she said. Then, like an animated doll, she came to life. “A lucrative offer, Flynn? Yes, of course it must be. So you are giving notice, is that it? Is that what you are trying to tell me, that Raynor has stolen you away from me?”

He shook his head. “Serena, he isn’t stealing me away from you.”

“No? Then why don’t you explain it to me so that I can understand. How long have you been with me now, Flynn? It must be all of sixteen years. I suppose it is time to move on. Oh, if it’s a character reference you want, I’ll vouch for you. Heavens, I look upon you as my dearest friend.”

If he had not known how she was suffering, he might have been tempted to turn her over his knee and spank some sense into her. There was no reasoning with her in this mood, but he had to try.

“Major Raynor has offered me a share in his gaming house. He takes ship for America at the end of the month, did you know? At any rate, he wants someone running
things in his absence, someone he can trust. He has made the same offer to Mr. Black—I think you may know of him?—so I won’t be working on my own. I know I have a lot to learn, and Blackie is willing to teach me all I need to know. This is a chance in a lifetime for me. You must see that, Serena.”

When she said nothing, he went on in the same level tone. “You always knew that I wanted to make something of myself, that I wanted more than this.” He gestured with one hand, encompassing far more than that small room.

“And I applaud your ambition, I mean that sincerely, Flynn. It will be a great step up for you. I suppose you will take up residence in Raynor’s rooms when he vacates them?” When he nodded, she went on brightly, “You’ll be quite the gentleman, and you can do it too. Your language is as cultured as mine when you want it to be. Well, I suppose there is nothing more to be said. In lieu of notice, I shall
give
you a month’s wages. I’m not sure how we are fixed, but I know that Clive will want to do right by you. There should be a generous annuity, and somehow, I know we shall manage it. Sixteen years is a long—” She couldn’t go on, couldn’t pretend that her heart wasn’t breaking. This was one betrayal she had never, never expected. Abruptly rising, she moved to the sideboard, where she fiddled with servers and plates.

Flynn rose slowly. “I’m not leaving you in the lurch,” he said quietly. “I told the major that I would serve out my notice. By that time, Lady Ward should have returned. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone at a time like this.”

She spun to face him. “You and Raynor should deal well together,” she said. Her voice was cracking. “You both know how to use people to your own advantage.”

“That is uncalled for, Serena, and you know it.” In
contrast to her heated tones, his were gentle. “I’m not thinking only of the slur to my own character. The major has done nothing to deserve this.”

Through a haze of tears, she stared at him. “Flynn,” she said, appealing to him, “how can you choose him over me? You know what he did to me.”

“He did nothing to you! You are being totally unreasonable, Serena. If you would only think about it, you would see that the major acted for the best.”

“You dare to defend him to me?” In a rustle of skirts, she returned to the table. Her voice rose hysterically. “He used me to set a trap for my own father and brother. He admitted it. If I had not trusted him, they might still be alive today. How do you suppose I feel when Catherine turns to me for comfort? What words can I offer her? What should I say to my nephews? That I allowed love to blind me to the nature of that .  .  . that creature?” Her voice broke but she went on regardless. “I trusted him, Flynn, and my reward was the destruction of my own family. Do you know how far I was willing to go? Even knowing that he had used me, tricked me, I took his part against my own brother.”

Flynn was as white-faced as she. “And if you could relive that moment, would you change things so that your precious brother and father could prevail? Oh yes, they would be alive, but you may be sure that the major would be in his grave. Would that please you? They were villains, Serena. Major Raynor did not know that they were involved. No one suspected them. But it is not that which riles you so much as the thought that your love was not returned. If you would only think about it—”

With a violence that stunned them both, she hurled her cup at him. “Get out!” she screamed. “I never want to see your face again. Do you hear me? Get out!”

Flynn used a handkerchief to wipe the coffee from his
face. Without a word of farewell, he turned on his heel and left her.

Serena heard the front door slam. Dazed, disbelieving, she flung herself into a chair. Arms extended on the table, head down, she let the bitter tears flow.

   She was in her bedchamber when she heard Flynn’s voice in the corridor. He sounded as though he had spent the whole day and half the night carousing. Without a word to her maid, she darted through the door.

“Flynn!” she called out. “Flynn!”

He had one foot on the stairs to the attics where his chamber was located. Turning to face her, he made a courtly though somewhat unsteady bow. “Fair Cyrene,” he said, and his speech was slurred. “I am helpless to resist your spell, as you see.”

Serena sped along the corridor. Her feet were bare. She was attired in a lace negligee, but she cared nothing for that. Coming to a sudden halt, she extended one hand toward him. “Flynn,” she whispered. “Oh Flynn, I could not bear it if I lost your friendship. That means more to me than anything. Tell me we are still friends.”

Her small hand was lost in his larger one. He looked at it for a long moment, then smiled into her eyes. So unaware, he thought, so damnably unaware of him as a man.

“Say you forgive me, Flynn. Please say you forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive.”

Whatever she saw in his eyes reassured her. With a little sigh, she walked into his arms. “Don’t leave me, Flynn, not yet. This is a wonderful opportunity for you. I see that now. Please, please, just give me a little time to get used to the idea. All right?”

He held her in a loose, comforting clasp. “Oh Serena,” he whispered, “what am I going to do with you? What am I going to do with you?”

*  *  *

In the weeks that followed, Serena did not put a foot outside the door of Ward House. A good part of the time, she moved through the rooms like a wraith, halting in her tracks as memories came back to her, as clear and as vivid as though the events had happened yesterday. There had been laughter in these rooms, there had been times, many times, when she was sublimely happy, but that was when she had been a child. Somewhere, somehow, as she had grown to womanhood, the joy had slipped away from her. She supposed it was the difference between being a girl and being a woman.

She tried hard not to think of Riverview, and the frightful events that had taken place there. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not wipe out the painful memories.

Flynn did not understand. There had never been any doubt in her mind that when it came down to it she would do whatever was necessary to save Julian. She had chosen him over her own father and brother, and if she had to relive that moment, she would do exactly the same again. What filled her with self-loathing and anguish was that Julian had made her his dupe, had used her for his own purposes. There was a horrible, horrible logic to things she had never understood before—his pursuit of her, their Fleet marriage, his determination to make it a real one. He had made her part of his vendetta, and that was unforgivable.

By his lights, she supposed Julian had just cause. She wasn’t blind to her father’s sins. What he had done to Julian and his family was iniquitous, beyond the pale. She would never understand it, never condone such unconscionable conduct. He deserved to be punished for what he had done. But why, oh why, had Julian chosen
her
to be his pawn in his deadly game of revenge?

She would never know the answer to that question. She never wanted to see him again, and if he had called at the house, he would have been turned away. She need not have worried about meeting up with him again. Julian had no more wish to see her than she had to see him.

Serena might not wish to meet up with Julian again, but she could not help hearing about him. In the weeks following her family’s departure, friends and acquaintances called at the house to offer their condolences. In the general flow of small talk, Julian’s name frequently came up.

It seemed that Lord Kirkland had acknowledged him as a long-lost nephew. He and his countess were feting Julian, and introducing him to their own exalted circles. There was to be a ball at Hanover Square on a scale that had never been seen before, just prior to Major Raynor’s departure for America. It was the oddest thing, and no one had explained
it
adequately, but it turned out that his name was Renney, not Raynor, though he was quite happy to answer to both names.

One such caller who took Serena completely by surprise was Lady Amelia Lawrence. It was Flynn’s voice that she heard first. He was turning someone away at the door, intimating that Serena was resting and was not up to receiving visitors. There was something in what he said. The peace and quiet she had hoped to achieve by remaining in town was proving to be elusive, not least because of the steady stream of visitors. She was on the point of slipping away unnoticed when she recognized Lady Amelia’s voice. Flynn’s reluctance to allow the caller admittance to the house was now explained. He knew how much she had always detested the woman.

It was curiosity that prompted her to intervene. Lady Amelia was no friend to her. She could not think what
purpose there could be to this visit, but she was curious to find out.

Descending the stairs, she said, “I am quite rested now, thank you, Flynn. Lady Amelia, how kind of you to call.”

They spoke in commonplaces as Serena led the way to the upstairs drawing room. When Flynn dispensed the sherry, then stationed himself by the door, Serena almost smiled. He was acting as her watchdog again, ready to defend her if Lady Amelia said one wrong word.

That wasn’t going to happen. The old animosity, for whatever reason, had vanished. They were simply acquaintances and could meet and converse like two polite strangers.

“That will be all, Flynn, thank you,” said Serena and pointedly ignored the warning look he darted at her before he left the room.

For the first few minutes, the conversation was of the recent tragedy, and how the Ward family members were bearing up in their sorrow. Lady Amelia was on her second glass of sherry before she broached what was on her mind.

“I never expected such kindness in you,” she said. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

Lady Amelia’s expression was so serious, her voice so earnest that Serena checked the polite and meaningless reply she was on the point of uttering. Not knowing what to say, she remained silent.

“I have resented you for a long, long time,” said Lady Amelia. “All of eight years, is it not?”

Eight years ago, she and Lady Amelia had been rivals for Allardyce’s affections. Since that time, they had treated each other like lepers. “Eight years,” said Serena. “That was a long time ago.” It seemed so far away, so insignificant, she could hardly remember it.

Lady Amelia sighed and looked away. “I have always
regretted the way things turned out—you know what I mean. We have behaved abominably to each other over the years. How could we have allowed someone like Allardyce to have such a profound effect on us? You became a shadow of your former self, and I .  .  .” Her voice cracked, and she coughed into a lace handkerchief.

Serena hardly knew what to say. She looked at that breathtakingly beautiful woman who could have any man she wanted, a woman whom she had envied quite desperately at one time, yes, and for more years than she cared to remember, and it was like seeing her for the first time. It came to her then that Lady Amelia had loved Allardyce far better than she, and for far longer.

I pity her,
Julian had said,
as you should pity her, Serena.

Swallowing, Serena put out a hand, and awkwardly patted Lady Amelia on the shoulder. “We have behaved like silly schoolgirls,” she said, and they both laughed.

“We won’t make that mistake again.”

“Beg pardon?” said Serena.

“What I mean to say is, this time, you won’t accuse me of stealing Julian away from you? There is nothing between you two, is there? Oh, I admit that for a time there I thought there was. The way he looked at you! The way you looked at him! I was quite envious, really. No one has ever looked at me in quite that way. I see now, however, that you were only playing a part, you know, as we all were, to scotch the ugly rumors that were circulating.”

The warm, friendly feelings that had begun to kindle in Serena’s breast were rapidly cooling. Julian and Lady Amelia? She must have misunderstood. “What exactly are you saying?”

Lady Amelia gathered her things together, and Serena rose with her, walking her to the door. “I thought that would be obvious,” said Lady Amelia. “I’m fond of Julian, more than fond of him. If there is a chance for me, I
intend to pursue it. Is there a chance for me, do you think?”

Serena managed to hold on to her smile, though she could not prevent the chill in her voice. “Julian is the one you should be asking, not me,” and ushering Lady Amelia through the door, she shut it with a snap.