His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) (14 page)

Felicity and Bliss exchanged a concerned look, but kept mum. It seemed no one knew what to say.

“An unfortunate turn of events,” Lady Devlyn pronounced. “We must act quickly in order to repair the damage before it spirals out of control.”

Serena’s stomach tensed as she asked, “What do you mean?”

“Ladies, a large part of being a successful courtesan is the image you project,” Lady D said. “Desirability, exclusivity, and unattainability are every bit as important as the sensual skills you’ve learned. The sad truth is, no one wants a courtesan that no one else wants. If the gentlemen of the
ton
find out that the duke no longer desires your company, Serena, your future—and indeed, that of the Courtesan Club as a whole—may be in peril.”

Serena fought against the anger that swelled inside her like a storm. She stood up from the breakfast table and stalked across the room. “This is all Darius’s fault. Once again, he has ruined me. I should very much like to kill him,” she said quite seriously.

Lady Devlyn smiled, as if she understood exactly how Serena felt. “Alas, killing him won’t help you achieve your goal, so I do not recommend it. Though I can see why the thought might tempt you. No, no—killing Lord Kane will do nothing to repair the situation. That is why you must become his courtesan, and quickly.”

“
What?
” Serena cried.

“You must accept Lord Kane’s offer, Serena—before anyone knows that the duke has removed his.” Lady Devlyn set down her coffee cup, as if that settled the matter.

“But I hate Darius now, even more than I did before,” Serena protested. “He tricked me with what amounts to blackmail. How can I let him get away with that?”

“Who said anything about letting him get away with it?” Lady D asked. “I am not suggesting that at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. By becoming his courtesan, you will have the opportunity to make him pay for his mistakes, over and over. It will all turn out to your advantage, if you play your cards right. You’ll see.”

Serena looked at her friends beseechingly, as if they could somehow help her out of this mess. But she knew that was impossible. No one could help her now, except Serena herself.

“But this is not what I wanted,” she insisted. “This is not how it should have turned out.”

“But this
is
how it has turned out,” Lady Devlyn reminded her. “You must make the best of the matter and move on. That is, if you still wish to be a courtesan. It is your choice to do that, or not. A true courtesan would not let this turn of events disrupt her long-term goals. A true courtesan can take any situation and turn it into a victory.”

Serena absorbed her benefactress’s words. She knew deep in her heart that Lady D was right. She was right about everything, it seemed.

The problem was Serena’s heart. It was bucking and clawing at the thought of Darius coming anywhere near it—ever again.

“Serena, dear, it is your decision to make,” Lady Devlyn said. “I am not trying to convince you of anything. You can walk away right now, and I shall continue on with Felicity and Bliss. I suppose I could try to find a proper husband for you. I do have some connections. I’d wager no one would hire you as a governess for their children, so that line of work will be closed to you.”

Serena’s heart sank like a wounded bird. If Lady Devlyn was trying to cheer her up, she was doing a damned poor job of it.

Lady D continued, “Promise me one thing, Serena, that you won’t let fear influence your decision. For if you do that now, you will let fear control your life forever. And we both know that is not any way to live.”

Serena nodded in understanding. Needing a moment to herself, she walked across the room toward the windows that overlooked the garden below. She raised her fingers to touch the pane of glass and marveled at how such a fragile thing protected her from the elements outdoors, which right now rained cold and dreary.

Perhaps control over one’s life was much like this window pane—thin, brittle and transparent. In some ways the safety it imparted was an illusion, for the glass could be so easily shattered. And yet it could also withstand quite a lot.

That was the real problem. Darius had shattered her sense of security a year ago, even her sense of self, and she was afraid he would do it again.

Staying away from him had seemed the best strategy. But the man kept turning up, like a bad farthing. Someone, or something was testing her mettle—the gods or the devil himself, she knew not which. Of one thing she was certain: if she ran away now, admitting defeat, she would let Darius win.

And she, Serena Ransom, London’s newest courtesan, would rather die than do that.

She turned to look at her friends, Felicity and Bliss, who sat at the breakfast table and regarded her expectantly. They had followed her on this thrilling adventure to become a courtesan, and she was not about to leave them in the lurch.

She would conquer her fear.

She would take Darius as her lover.

And she would bleed him dry of every pound she could.

* * *

Darius speared a bite of poached egg over toast and hungrily ate it, washing it down with strong, black coffee. The meal was tasty, yet it did nothing to satisfy his other hunger—the one that raged in his veins for a certain flame-haired temptress.

Oh, how he hated waiting. But it was now up to Serena to return the volley. If she didn’t, her future as a courtesan would most likely be over.

Not that he cared much about that. He would prefer it, actually, and perhaps that was his intention, deep down. To become her protector for as long as she would have him, and then set her free her to live as an independent woman, with her dignity intact and without ever having to sell her body to another man. Lord knows she’d earned that right.

“Do you think we’ll hear from Miss Ransom today?” Havelock asked, spreading raspberry jam over a thick slice of buttery toast.

Darius tried to ignore the spike of unease he felt as he considered the alternative. “Of course. Serena is not stupid. She’ll realize that I am her best option to secure her future and will act accordingly.”

“Are you sure?” Havelock asked. “She might be so angry that she’ll continue to refuse you out of spite. Perhaps she’ll take Lord Bainbridge to her bed just to annoy you.”

“That old goat?” Darius replied with horror. “Certainly not.”

“Why? He’s almost as rich as you,” Havelock pointed out. “And I hear from his current mistress—Mrs. Calloway—that he falls asleep most nights straight away after supper. Serena certainly wouldn’t have as heavy a workload with old Bainbridge. Not like she would with you, I presume.”

Darius cut off a link of sausage, stabbing it angrily with his fork.

“Or perhaps she wishes to play tickle-tail with Sir Hector Houndstooth,” Havelock continued. “He has much to recommend him, not only one foot in the grave, but a nice collection of art, which presumably could be hers if she docks him to death.”

Just the thought of any of those rusty old bluffs touching Serena made Darius burn with fury.

“After all you’ve done to her,” Havelock said, “I couldn’t blame her, you know.”

Darius glared. “You make me sound like the very devil himself.”

“Aren’t you?” Havelock asked, taking a swig of coffee. “You’ve said it yourself, more than once.”

“Dammit.” Darius chewed his bread and tried to rein in his frustrations. It wouldn’t do to fight with Havelock. “Do not forget, you helped me ruin her chances with the duke. Now that it’s done, all that matters is that I’ve made Serena an excellent offer, the best one she’s likely to get in her line of work. Not to mention, I’ll be keeping her safe from all the lecherous bastards out there, some of whom you were just good enough to mention.”

At this, Havelock laughed. “Darius, you totty-headed fool, don’t you see?
You’re
one of the lecherous bastards!” His friend kept laughing, but it wasn’t the kind of laughter Darius felt like joining in on, because it wasn’t what he wanted to be.

“And you’re a monk, are you?” Darius countered. “You certainly didn’t act like one in Portugal and Spain.”

“Ah, but none of those ladies were virgins, and none of them were forced to become my mistress because I’d ruined their reputations,” Havelock commented. “As far as we know, their reputations were ruined long before they ever laid eyes on me.”

“Well, count yourself lucky in that regard.”

“I do,” Havelock replied, helping himself to a sausage. “Unfortunately that’s all I have to recommend me these days. I’m just a poor, unemployed toady with a high set of morals and no meaningful prospects. Lovely breakfast, by the way.”

Darius sipped the last of his coffee, looking up as Whiddington, his butler, entered the dining room carrying a silver tray.

“A message has come for you, my lord,” the butler said, bowing slightly.

Darius glanced at Havelock, who quirked a brow in curiosity.

“Bring it here,” Darius commanded. He took the ivory vellum envelope from the tray. Was it his imagination, or did the scent of roses emanate from the letter? And what was worse, did his pulse quicken at the possibility that it might be from Serena?

“Well, don’t just sit there, open the damned thing!” Havelock said impatiently, craning to get a look.

Darius ripped open the envelope and removed a folded card. He read it aloud: “Lord Kane, I am pleased to inform you that I have decided to accept your generous offer and will become your exclusive courtesan. I look forward to our next meeting. Yours, Serena
.”

Yours….

Just the thought of Serena Ransom becoming his, in every sense of the word, made Darius’s trousers uncomfortably tight.

“That’s it, then,” Havelock said. “You have won her.”

Darius took a deep breath. His friend was right, he had won this particular battle.

Then why, he wondered, did he not feel more victorious?

Chapter 10

“
Preparing to become a gentleman’s private courtesan is much like designing a production for the theater. Sets, costumes, lighting; all must be carefully arranged in order to make the opening night very memorable indeed….”

–from Memoirs of a Courtesan, by Lady Night

Apparently, it was quite a complicated endeavor to ready oneself for an official debut as a courtesan.

Serena marveled at the military precision with which Lady Devlyn commanded her troops. Of course, there was the
modiste
Darius had hired, along with her staff of seamstresses; Monsieur LaFlamme, the decorator for the townhouse; the solicitor, Mr. Ridgeway; the woman from the employment agency, Mrs. Hendsbee, who was in charge of staffing the house; and it all had to be done within a week.

Day after day, Lady Devlyn’s house buzzed with people bringing fabric samples, shoes, hats, gloves, and jewelry, all for Serena’s approval. Decisions had to be made about cutlery, china patterns, draperies and rugs. Serena had almost giggled uncontrollably when Monsieur LaFlamme asked her quite seriously if she would prefer a blue or a green live macaw as decoration in the foyer.

Felicity and Bliss had stood by her side each and every day, assisting her with color choices for the house, fabric choices for her wardrobe, and anything and everything else that needed to be done. They also seized every opportunity to tease her about her foremost duty in her new position—that of pleasing a man in bed.

“I think you should try this position, Serena.” Bliss looked up from reading the
Kama Sutra
, and explained, “It’s called ‘Lute Hanging from an Ivory Tusk.’ The woman does a half-shoulder stand, putting her feet on his chest. He kneels behind you and, well…you know.”

Yes, Serena knew, alright.

Lady Devlyn smiled from across the room. “The Lute—that was a favorite of the Maharajah and I. You must try it with Lord Kane, and tell me what you think of it.”

Serena couldn’t help but blush. Though she was a courtesan, well-educated in the arts of love, she was still a virgin. It was difficult not to feel some trepidation about that first moment, when Darius would place his swollen member between her legs and enter her body, changing her forever.

She would be a woman, then.

His
woman.

At one time in her life, she had wanted that more than anything in the world. But she had never dreamed it would be like this with Lord Kane.

Darius had paid for the privilege of being her lover, and he now had the right to enjoy her body whenever he wished. That was what she agreed to when she signed the contract at her solicitor’s office a week ago.

The curious thing was that she hadn’t seen Darius since the night of his ball, when he’d tricked her under the oak tree and succeeded in chasing the Duke of Balfour out of the running.

After she’d sent the message to Lord Kane, he had sent the solicitor to Lady Devlyn’s house with a carefully worded contract for Serena to review. Soon after, they had officially begun their relationship as courtesan and protector.

Even though Darius had to be the most infuriating man she’d ever met, Serena couldn’t help but think about what the next few days would hold. A year ago, she had wanted nothing more than to join her body with his in the act of love. Of course, back then she’d thought he would soon be her husband.