His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3)

by Michelle McMaster

  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 pas
sion 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.

  Serena had her cup of tea. And her rest. And an amusing game of whist with Bliss, Felicity and Lady D, followed by a delicious supper.

  And still no Darius, though he’d said he would come.

  The thought irked her, beyond all. And it irked her even more that she could let herself be irked by him again, especially when she should be well beyond that. Some of the most powerful men in London had paid calls to her today. She was London’s newest celebrity. But Darius had stood her up. He was obviously trying to toy with her, just as he had that humid, torrid night in the gardens.

  It didn’t matter. Today, Serena had received some very fine offers. Soon she would be an independent woman. And Darius Manning, despicable scoundrel that he was, would be buried deep in the past where he belonged.

  Everyone had retired to their rooms, and Serena was just cozying in with one of Bliss’ penny novels about Lady Night’s adventures, when the woman herself arrived at the bedroom door. Clad in sensuous purple silk robes, Lady Devlyn floated across the room, holding a glowing lantern aloft.

  Serena threw back the covers and reached for her peignoir. “What is it?”

  Lady D smiled and touched her arm. “He’s here. The Earl of Kane. And he very much wishes to speak with you.”

  A heady thrill danced along Serena’s veins at the news, then a flare of anger burned in her heart. “At this hour? Is he mad?”

  “Mad for you, perhaps,” Lady D said. “I know it is late, but I recommend that you receive him. Especially in your current state. You look quite alluring.”

  Serena glanced down at her diaphanous pale blue night gown and sheer robe. Her bare feet peeked out from beneath the frilly hem. To appear before Darius in such scandalous attire made her blood race with wicked possibility. Part of her—the newly minted courtesan—wanted to watch her ex-lover squirm as she flaunted herself in front of him, only to turn down whatever offer he might make. The sight of her body, covered only by sheer, flimsy fabric, would surely drive him mad. Especially if he knew that she was shortly to become another man’s erotic plaything.

  “Yes, I will receive him,” Serena said, tying the frilly belt of the robe about her waist. She stepped into a pair of matching blue silk slippers and moved toward the door, but was stopped by Lady D.

  “Just a moment, Serena. Let me add the finishing touches.”

  “There’s no point,” she replied. “I’m not accepting his offer, whatever it may be.”

  Lady Devlyn flounced a few of Serena’s auburn curls about her shoulders. “Don’t be so hasty. The earl might make you an offer you cannot refuse.”

  Serena gave a derisive laugh. “There is nothing Lord Kane possesses that I want.”

  “Perhaps. But there is most certainly something that you possess which Lord Kane wants. And that, my dear, is the point.” Lady D tugged at the neckline of Serena’s robe to expose more of her protégé’s cleavage. Then she pinched Serena’s cheeks a little to give her face some color. “There, you look a bit flushed, which is enticing to a man when you’re half-naked. I think London’s newest courtesan is ready to greet her guest.”

  Serena followed her benefactress down the dark, cool hallway, the lantern lighting their way. The anticipation of pleasure surged within her breast, but it was not the least bit romantic. For she was anticipating the pleasure of throwing Darius’s offer back in his face, however generous it may be.

  They descended the staircase and made their way toward the drawing room, which glowed with the light from candelabras within.

  “Erasmus is right around the corner, should you need him, though I doubt you will,” Lady Devlyn whispered. “Just hear what the man has to say, and do not make any rash decisions.” With that, she ushered Serena toward the double doorway and took her leave.

  Serena paused a moment, thinking back to the girl she had once been. The man who had ruined her reputation so carelessly awaited her in the next room. Was he expecting a happy reunion? He would be in for quite a surprise.

>   Lady Devlyn had trained Serena well. She, Bliss and Felicity were no longer the same girls who had arrived at Hargrove Park those many months ago. They were courtesans now. Skilled in the art of seduction. Confident and alluring. Never again would a man hold dominion over any of them. Not in the bedroom, or out of it.

  Serena stepped through the doorway and met Lord Kane’s gaze. He looked as dangerous as the devil—dark hair curling about the high white collar of his shirt, midnight black trousers and jacket giving him the aura of the dark knight come to woo the princess…or conquer her.

  Serena felt a feminine thrill she did not expect or wish to feel as his gaze raked over her scantily clad body. His eyes flickered with primal fire as they took their pleasure.

  Then Darius did something totally unexpected.

  With two quick strides he crossed the floor and pulled Serena hard against his chest, covering her shocked mouth with a branding, blazing kiss.

  Two worlds collided, as the memory of his kisses mingled with the reality of his lips upon hers—here, now, in this moment. As he masterfully teased her mouth with his tongue, Serena made a shocking discovery. Her wicked ex-lover had gotten better at kissing since that night in the gardens. Serena wondered what else he had gotten better at.

  Her soft breasts crushed against his broad chest and she heard him groan as he pulled her even closer, cupping her buttocks and pressing her against the hardness of his arousal.

  It felt good.

  As good as it had that night at the Telford Ball. Maybe even better.

  Only now, Serena Ransom was no innocent, wide-eyed girl, to be swept away by such brazen masculine sexuality. She had learned the secrets of the Kama Sutra. She had studied other ancient texts which embraced sensuality and sought not to imprison it within the human heart, but to give it life within one’s body, one’s soul.