Read His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) Online

Authors: Michelle McMaster

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Regency, #Victorian, #London Society, #England, #Britain, #19th Century, #Adult, #Forever Love, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Hearts Desire, #Mayfair Ball, #Scandalous Embrace, #Reputation, #Courtesan Club, #Pledged To Another, #Exclusive Courtesan, #Destiny, #Years Later, #Second Chances

His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) (10 page)

BOOK: His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3)
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* * *

“Well, well, Serena—you are all over the papers,” Lady Devlyn said happily as they sat about her dressing room, perusing the latest shipment of fabrics newly arrived from Paris. “Bliss and Felicity, too. The Courtesan Club is an unbridled success.”

Serena smiled, though her heart wasn’t in it. She wasn’t even a full-fledged courtesan yet, and already the pressure was getting to her. The flowers, the constant invitations from admirers to attend the opera, or a ball, or a musicale, or garden party, or some such. She had lost count of how many events she had to consider this week alone.

Always astutely aware, Lady D asked, “What is it, Serena? You look troubled.”

Serena swallowed. She didn’t want to sound unappreciative for all that Lady Devlyn had done for her, Bliss and Felicity. “It’s nothing.”

Lady D gave Serena a look that intimated she knew quite well that it was something indeed.

The silence in the opulent dressing room would crush them flat in an instant.

But Lady Devlyn was a patient woman. Instead of quizzing Serena or the other girls, she merely held out a length of fiery red silk and studied it calmly as it shimmered in the afternoon light.

“It’s just…,” Serena began.

Lady D gave her a fleeting look, then turned her attention to a fan made entirely of lush crimson feathers.

Bliss sat forward, taking her attention away from a lovely expanse of lemon satin. “Yes, Serena, dear? Do tell us.”

“It’s Lord Kane, isn’t it?” Felicity smiled, beating her friend to the punch.

Serena tried to think of something to say, but her tongue became tied.

Felicity toyed with a length of pink ribbon, saying, “I’m afraid I don’t see the problem, Serena. The man is attractive beyond all, and he’s sickeningly rich. I realize you have no love for Lord Kane, but as Lady D has taught us, there are many things to consider when attaching oneself to a protector.”

“That’s exactly why I’m hesitating,” Serena said.

“Really, why?” Bliss asked.

“Because….”

“Yes?” Lady D prompted.

“Because…,” Serena tried again.

“Go on,” Bliss encouraged.

Serena took a steadying breath. “Lord Kane is entirely unsuitable. And he is the last man on earth I would ever trust to
protect
me.”

Or to protect her heart.

“How so?” Felicity inquired.

“For starters, he is much too sure of himself,” Serena replied.

“That has nothing to do with the style in which he can afford to keep you,” Lady Devlyn pointed out.

“He is arrogant,” Serena asserted.

This elicited chuckles from her friends, especially Lady Devlyn, who replied, “Most men are, dear.”

“He—he—”

“Broke your heart quite badly, and you are still not over it?” Lady D asked pointedly.

Felicity and Bliss quietly studied the fabric in their hands as they waited for Serena to reply.

Serena tried to calm her racing heart, still shocked at Lady D’s blunt words. “I am most definitely
over
Lord Kane. I have kicked a cartload of dirt on the grave of our dalliance.”

“It pains me to say it,” Lady D observed, “but I am not entirely sure that is true. Even so, a broken heart should not affect your decision-making about your future, not when fortunes are at stake. The man has already offered you a priceless emerald and diamond necklace—
which you threw back in his face
—and I’m sure there’s more where that came from. You told him to woo you with wealth, which I believe was well-played. Let us see what he comes up with; the duke as well. Now that you have them competing against each other, it will most definitely get interesting. You are a woman men should
have
to compete for, Serena. Each of you are. You’ll see. Now ladies, if you would recite Courtesan Rule Number Three for me?”

Her protégées said in unison, “
A man values the pleasure of a woman’s company based on how hard he has to work to win it.

Lady Devlyn smiled. “Correct. And Courtesan Rule Number Sixteen?”


To keep a man breathless, make him jump through hoops
.”

“Right again,” she said. “And finally, Courtesan Rule Number Eighteen?”


To keep a man coming back, send him away
.”

Lady Devlyn gave a dazzling smile. “Oh, I am so proud of you ladies. You do remember my lessons. Serena has definitely been putting Rule Number Eighteen into practice. And Lord Kane will keep coming back. So will the Duke of Balfour. You must simply decide to whom you will attach yourself. The duke is powerful, rich and well-connected. Lord Kane is even richer, and seems to possess an animal attraction that many women find intoxicating, to say the least. After all, Serena, you yourself were one of them. Perhaps you might enjoy that side of it.”

Serena looked away, angrily trying to banish the memories of Darius’s hands and mouth on her body as he’d seduced her that night in the garden. Somehow those kisses had branded her as surely as hot iron. Though no one could see it, she wore his mark. And damned if she knew how to get rid of it.

Lady Devlyn folded her hands in her lap and regarded her protégées with an enigmatic smile. “And now, I have an announcement to make.”

The ladies exchanged curious looks. Lady Devlyn’s surprises were usually quite thrilling.

“The Courtesan Club has received an invitation to attend a most singular event,” Lady D said. “Speak of the devil—the Earl of Kane is throwing an exclusive masked ball at his residence in Grosvenor Square. Everyone who is anyone will be there. Lord Kane promises a memorable evening of wicked entertainments, music and plenty of champagne.”

Felicity and Bliss exchanged confident looks, while Serena found herself frowning.

She didn’t want to go to Darius’s ball. It would be like walking through the gates of Hell and expecting to remain untouched by the flames. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t very well refuse, for that would indicate that Darius still possessed the power to hurt her. And even Serena refused to believe that.

She sighed, dispiritedly. She didn’t have a very good track record of resisting Darius in the atmosphere of a ball. And a masked one would lend itself to even more wicked delights. Darius would be completely in his element. Something told her he understood that and had planned this next move in their battle of wills accordingly.

Lady D smiled. “We have just received a new shipment of fabric sent from Paris. Come ladies, you must each chose something for your new gowns. The
modiste
and her staff will be arriving any minute to commence the fittings. Bliss, the royal blue satin will look stunning on you. Felicity, which do you choose?”

Felicity touched a length of rich plum silk. “I’ve had my eye on this.”

“Wonderful choice. And you, Serena?”

She studied the exquisite fabrics laid out in the room. She was drawn to a length of ruby red satin.

“That will match nicely with your fiery auburn hair,” Lady Devlyn said, approvingly. “And I shall wear the silver satin, and the Maharajah’s diamond. Bliss will wear the sapphires, and you will look lovely in my amethysts, Felicity. Serena, you may wear my pearl choker.”

Lady Devlyn’s extensive collection of jewels was truly impressive. Some said they rivaled the Royal Jewels themselves. Lady D had received dazzling gifts from emperors, maharajahs, princes and kings. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires and pearls, and stones spanning every color of the rainbow had been used to make pendants, rings, chokers, bracelets, earbobs, and tiaras. The jewelry case itself was set with shimmering jewels. The combined value of such treasures could probably feed the whole country for years, Serena mused.

She thought back to her childhood in the draughty, run-down country house, her belly growling with hunger as she sat at the bare wooden table, watching her father drink away what little money they had left, and she knew she’d made the right decision in becoming a courtesan. She saw her mother’s strained face as she pleaded with her husband to have mercy on them, to buy them some food, instead of wasting it on drink.

Father had answered his baroness with the back of his hand, just as he had done so many times before. And Serena had decided right then and there, as she hid behind a chair, watching her poor mother struggle to get up off the floor one more time—that she would never make such a disastrous mistake with marriage.

Her mother had been beautiful once, before poverty and abuse had taken its toll. Serena had found a miniature of her, tucked away in a drawer. The woman in the picture looked full of life, her eyes bright with promise, her mouth curved into a confident smile. Somehow, that woman had been replaced by a thin, down-trodden woman with dull, wispy hair and hollow, haunted eyes. Serena had wanted to help her, somehow. She’d wanted to restore the face she saw in the miniature to the woman who walked about the house like a ghost. But as a child of twelve, she was just as powerless as her mother.

So Serena would spend her days in the surrounding fields, picking wildflowers for her dear mother, sometimes fashioning them into a necklace to hang over her threadbare bodice, or a crown to grace her head.

One such gift had reduced her mother to tears. Her mother, Lady Ransom, had always tried to be strong for the sake of her daughter. They had been alone in the kitchen, her mother staring at the bare cupboards as if somehow, food would appear there magically if she simply waited long enough. Serena had presented her with a crown of pristine white daisies.

Tears had pricked her mother’s eyes, spilling down her pale cheeks like diamonds. She placed the crown of daisies upon her head, and pulled her daughter onto her lap. Serena could feel the bones of her mother’s hips poking at her through the thin, worn gown. Her mother wiped her tears away, gaining control of her emotions.

Stifling the cough that had troubled her of late, Lady Ransom told her daughter a story—one that Serena would never forget.

It could have been one of Grimm’s fairy tales, yet even as a little girl, Serena knew this was no fable. It was the story of her mother’s life: the young, impressionable beauty, who had married a dashing baron, only to discover the truth when it was too late. Her husband had married her for her dowry, then spent it over the years on gambling and drink. With no money to pay them, the servants had left one by one, leaving Lady Ransom to do everything herself. While his wife and young daughter starved in their crumbling manor house, Lord Ransom played at cards and went deeper and deeper into debt.

Her mother had hugged Serena close, and weaved another tale—this one about the future. In it, the daughter of an evil man grew up and left her poor beginnings for the excitement of London. Now a famous beauty, the girl had her pick of suitors, each richer than the next. One day she would marry the richest man in all of England, and never have to worry about money again.

For that was the most important thing in life, her mother had said—
money
. To be without it was to be without hope of survival.

After the story, her mother had taken Serena by the hand and gone to the vicarage to beg for their supper.

Serena looked about Lady Devlyn’s luxurious dressing room and knew that her mother would have approved of the choices she had made. Though her mother’s dreams of a spectacular match for her daughter were now dashed—thanks to Darius Manning—becoming courtesan to a rich duke was nearly as good.

In a moment, Mansfield appeared at the door informing them that Madame Dubonnet and her army of seamstresses had arrived.

“Very good, Mansfield. Show them up, if you please,” Lady D commanded. “It is good that you have chosen darker hued fabrics, as they will be more difficult to see in an alcove or dimly lit garden. Isn’t that right, Serena?”

Serena rolled her eyes. She had to think that Lady Devlyn herself had enjoyed her share of pleasures in dimly lit gardens as well.

“I’ve never been to a masked ball,” Bliss said excitedly.

“Nor I,” Felicity echoed, turning her attention to a delicate Chinese fan.

“Nor have I,” Serena said, running her fingers across the ruby red silk which would soon be fashioned into a gown for her. A shudder went through her as she imagined Darius’s hands skimming over it, with her trembling body beneath.

Was she remembering the past or seeing the future?

“A masked ball is quite amusing, I assure you,” Lady D said with a delighted gleam in her eyes. “Lots of champagne, lots of games and amusements, lots of opportunity to make the acquaintance of the opposite sex. And you, Serena, will get to see Lord Kane’s biggest asset—and by that I do not mean the one between his legs, though I am sure it is quite impressive. No, I mean the man’s
house
.”

“You needn’t worry about that,” Serena assured her with a laugh. “I have absolutely no interest in any of Lord Kane’s assets, impressive or not.”

Lady Devlyn studied Serena for a moment. “Ladies, could I have a word alone with Serena, if you please?”

Bliss and Felicity exited the room, chatting excitedly about the upcoming ball.

Serena turned to face her benefactress, who bade her come near and sit next to her on the sofa. “What is it?”

Lady Devlyn smiled sadly. “My dear, I fear I have failed you.”

BOOK: His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3)
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