His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) (5 page)

Lady D smiled and shook her head. “I had it straight from the butler. The gentlemen were indeed engaged in a match of billiards, but then the duke said something objectionable—I don’t know what it was—and then it turned into an argument over who would win you. It seems each wants to be the top contender for the honor.”

Serena felt a wild thrill. Two grown men, and one of them a duke, no less—fighting over her. She watched with interest as Darius took another swing, his muscular arm stretching out with explosive power as he landed another blow to the duke’s stomach.

An unwelcome heat began to warm her veins. Seeing Darius Manning, half-naked and sweaty, muscles bulging and flexing, was unfortunately quite arousing. Especially when she was the cause of such behavior.

But then, the memory of his ill treatment of her made Serena huff in annoyance. In fact, she hoped the duke managed to land a few more blows against Darius, because he certainly deserved it, and more.

Though he obviously thought winning this fight would win him the courtesan as well, she had no intention of accepting Darius’ offer, no matter how generous it was. The man was arrogant beyond all to think that she would have forgiven him for arousing her passions and then leaving her so abruptly in the lurch that night at Telford House.

Perhaps it was time for Darius Manning to learn the meaning of loss, himself.

He looked up at her then, his blue eyes burning with animalistic fire. Then, as if simply the sight of Serena filled him with vigor, he lunged at the duke, hitting him with three fast, hard blows in succession.

The crowd gasped as the duke went down like a sack of potatoes onto the floor. He’d been knocked out cold.

Serena covered her mouth with her hands in shock.

Major Price lifted Darius’ arm in the air and shouted above the noise of the wild crowd, “The winner—having knocked out his opponent—I give you the Earl of Kane!”

A throng of gentlemen crowded around Darius, shaking his hand and congratulating him for winning the match, and some of them a lot of money. The duke, however, was carted away by his cronies, still unconscious.

As Darius wiped his sweat-soaked skin with a linen napkin, Serena noticed blood on his knuckles. There was also a small cut above his eye that was beginning to bleed.

He had bled for her.

Had he actually thought that would impress her? If so, he was going to be very disappointed.

But she was completely unprepared for his next action.

As Major Price paid out the winning bets, Darius made his way through the crowd toward Serena. Still bare-chested and breathing hard, he ascended the staircase two steps at a time. No one interfered with him, not even Erasmus.

Lord Kane stood in front of Serena, the naked skin of his chest glistening with perspiration. His eyes glittered dangerously as he raked his hot gaze over her silk-clad body.

As if it were his right. As if he had already won her.
Oh, the man was beyond arrogant
.

He stepped closer and reached out a thick, battle-scarred hand to tip her chin up, letting his gaze linger on her mouth.

“I will call on you tomorrow,” he said, his voice husky and low.

He held her gaze for a few seconds more, then turned and headed down the staircase toward the billiard room without so much as a backward glance.

Serena narrowed her eyes. One thing was certain, Darius had succeeded in teaching the duke a lesson tonight. But what Darius didn’t know was that he was in need of a lesson or two himself. He was not King of the World, and she was not his subject.

And Serena Ransom, London’s newest courtesan, would be happy to enlighten him in that regard.

* * *

The next morning was full of excitement at Lady Devlyn’s mansion. Serena had been speechless when shown the salon. The previous evening it was full of salivating men. Now it was filled to bursting with bouquets of flowers from her many admirers. Tall, fragrant roses in colors of magenta pink, palest peach, deep red, sunny yellow, and pure white filled crystal vases. Bright bouquets of freesia, daisies, carnations, and a myriad of other flowers Serena didn’t know the names of decorated the opulent room as well. And it was all in honor of her.

Each bouquet had a small white card attached.

Bliss handed one to Serena. “Oh, do hurry and open it. I want to see what your admirers have to say after your unbridled success last night.”

Felicity leaned closer to see as Serena opened the envelope. “‘Beautiful roses for a beautiful woman,’ from Sir Radcliffe Parry.” She opened another. “‘To Miss Serena, London’s exotic flower,’ from Viscount St. Albans.” The other cards had similar missives, all complementing Serena’s unique beauty.

It was all rather flattering, really.

After she had read all the cards, Serena made an interesting observation. She had received flowers from almost every man in attendance, yet there were none from Darius Manning.

“Really? Nothing from Lord Kane?” Bliss asked. “Well, that is surprising.”

Serena plopped the cards down on a sliver tray in annoyance. “No, it is not. I mean, really—after all the commotion he caused last night, not to mention the chairs and crystal that were broken during his fisticuffs with the duke, I should think he would have sent half a dozen bouquets, at least. But he sends nothing. Not even an apology!”

Lady Devlyn put a supportive arm around her. “I am sure the earl will recompense me for any damages. And the fact that you are so annoyed that he didn’t send flowers leads me to believe that you
wished
to receive them from him, above all others.”

Serena could not believe her benefactress would even suggest such a thing. “If I did, it is only because I feel it would be the right thing to do after such a disgusting display.”

Lady Devlyn gave a knowing smile, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “Of course you do.” She walked about the room, bending to smell a particular flower in one of the numerous arrangements. “Perhaps Lord Kane intends to send you a more extravagant gift. As you say, after last night’s violence, a gift of jewelry might be more in order.”

“Do you think he’ll come to visit you today?” Felicity asked, taking a seat next to Bliss on the luxuriously upholstered settee.

Serena tossed her head. “Even if he does, I shall not consent to see him.”

“Why ever not?” Lady D asked, calmly, as if she already knew the answer.

“Haven’t you noticed? The man is an ass,” Serena stated.

The room erupted in laughter. Lady D commented, “Most of them are, my dear. Do not let it concern you. I think you are forgetting Courtesan Rule Number Nineteen.” She turned toward Bliss and Felicity, who replied in unison, “
Never let a man get your kickers in a twist
.”

Lady D continued, “Indeed, I see at least Bliss and Felicity remember your lessons. Serena seems to have forgotten hers already.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” she replied. “And for the record, Lord Kane couldn’t get my knickers in a twist if his life depended on it.”

“But he did once before,” Bliss said. “As you told it, not only did he get your knickers in a twist, he removed them completely, and left one of your stockings dangling from a tree-branch.”

Serena frowned. “Thank you for reminding me, Bliss.”

Bliss continued, unfazed. “Perhaps he has come back to finish what he started that night.”

“Then he shall be dreadfully disappointed.” Serena stood, then paced about the room. “The man toyed with my affections most deplorably. He seduced me practically to the point of no return, only hours after proposing to another woman! Let us not forget the boorish way he treated his fiancée, let alone me.”

Felicity offered, “Perhaps Lord Kane really isn’t the villain you think he is, Serena. The fact that he was terribly taken with you is without doubt. It has been rumored that he married Miss Barton in order to save his family’s estates. Surely you can see the man’s hands were tied.”

“And that excuses his ill-treatment of me?” Serena demanded hotly.

“Of course not,” Felicity said. “But I think you are simplifying the circumstances, when the circumstances surrounding that fateful night are anything but.”

Bliss interjected. “Though he may indeed be a villain, as Serena insists, I think Lord Kane is attractive. I thought his muscles were most impressive.”

Heaven help her, Serena hadn’t been able to take her eyes off them—for the sight of them reminded her exactly how those strong, muscular arms had felt about her, pulling her close as his mouth had plundered hers.

She rubbed her forehead. All this talk was giving her a headache.

“Let us not concern ourselves with Lord Kane’s muscles at the moment,” Lady D said. “Remember, to the consummate courtesan, looks and virility are but one part of your final decision. You must remember the gentleman’s ability to care for you in a style you deserve. Please recite Courtesan Rule Number Twenty-Three.”

Serena, Bliss and Felicity grinned at one another. “
Diamonds last longer than a man’s passion
.”

Lady D gazed at them proudly. “You
were
paying attention. Yes, my dears, and once you have accumulated enough diamonds from your admirers and your future is secure, you will realize that all men are basically the same. The passion they inspire within us is merely that—-passion. And while passion has its place, you should never mistake it for love.”

Serena had already learned that the hard way, compliments of Lord Kane.

The butler, Mansfield, came to the door and bowed. “There is a gentleman here to see Miss Serena.”

Darius
.

An involuntary shiver danced across Serena’s skin, a reaction which made her scowl. Her friends exchanged knowing looks, then departed the room with Lady Devlyn.

Serena smoothed her hair as she waited for Mansfield to show her admirer in.

But it was not Darius.

It was the portly, balding Lord Dudley.

And the gentleman who called after that wasn’t Darius, either. It was tall and humorless Sir Radcliffe Parry.

Poor Mansfield was put to the test managing what became a revolving door in the front portico of the mansion. Serena greeted earls, marquesses, viscounts and barons, and other wealthy gentlemen, all of whom made her generous offers, if she would only consent to becoming their exclusive companion.

But the most generous offer came from the Duke of Balfour. The young duke looked much the worse for wear the day after losing the match of fisticuffs with Darius. Serena couldn’t help but feel sorry for him when she gazed at the shiny black eye and swollen jaw Darius had left him with.

Without those distinguishing marks, the Duke was quite a handsome man in his own right, with wheat blond hair, sky blue eyes, and a tall frame.

“Your offer is very generous, Your Grace,” Serena said politely, as if she received offers of such an exorbitant amount every day. But then again, Lady Night’s rules were there to fall back on, and there was one for any given situation. In this case, Serena employed Courtesan Rule Number Eleven: “
Act like a queen, and you shall be treated as such
.”

“It is nothing, compared to your beauty, Miss Ransom,” the duke said, gallantly bending forward to kiss her hand. Serena heard him grunt in pain as he did so. He grimaced and stood up straight again. “The ribs, you see. Giving me a little trouble today, on account of the Earl of Kane.”

“A very ill-mannered gentleman,” Serena said, breezily.

The duke nodded. “Quite right, and the man’s callous treatment of you last Season was utterly deplorable. Now that he has control of his late wife’s fortune, he thinks himself above his rank. He was like that in the Peninsula as well. I can tell you that neither he, nor his crony, Major Price, made any friends there. A very ill-mannered gentleman indeed, Miss Ransom.”

Serena immediately liked the Duke even more.

He continued to criticize Darius unabashedly. “A gentleman would never challenge a peer above his own rank to a match of fisticuffs. In a lady’s house, no less! Of course, when he took a swing at me, I was forced to defend myself. What else could I do?”

“You were entirely right to do so, Your Grace,” Serena said, charmingly. “If anyone needs to be taught a lesson in respect, it is Lord Kane. And I have no doubt that you are just the man to do it.”

But she did not want to talk about Darius Manning anymore. Serena stood and smoothed her skirts. “You will forgive me, Your Grace, but I am quite tired. I have been receiving callers all day. I thank you for the flattering offer you have made. I shall be in touch.” She favored him with a dazzling smile, which seemed to do the trick.

The duke rose slowly, wincing again. “Of course, my dear. I shall leave you to your rest.” He reached out to take Serena’s hand and clasped it again. As he pressed his lips to her skin, he gazed at her as if she were nothing less than a Greek goddess to be worshipped.

It was a feeling Serena decided she could most definitely grow accustomed to.

Stopping at the doorway, she rang the bell pull for Mansfield to escort the duke out.

As Balfour made his exit, Serena let out a sigh. She hadn’t lied to him. She was tired. It had been an exhausting afternoon. And now, what she wanted more than anything was a cup of tea and little rest before supper.