Love Redeemed

by Sorcha Mowbray

  “Why ever not? He seemed perfectly nice, and very handsome to boot.” Miranda tugged her arm in an attempt to slow their pace.

  “He has no idea what I am. He sees only a lady, not a whore.” Serena shortened her step and drew a deep breath.

  “I see, hence the Aunt Henrietta.” Miranda paused. “Still, it might be a nice treat to meet with a man and not have it be business related. I think you should go, if not for yourself, then for all of us who will never have such an opportunity.”

  “Really? D’you think I should?” Serena stopped, surprised by her friend’s emphatic response.

  “I do. Please go and come back to tell us what it is like to not be a whore. I think I have forgotten.” A bittersweet smile slipped across Miranda’s face as she linked her arm in Serena’s and dragged her up the steps of The Market.

  “Maybe I will.” Serena sighed as they entered the house. As far as being a whore went, they had a very good life. They could have ended up gin-soaked trollops who fucked men against an alley wall for enough change to fill their mugs.

  ***

  Brennan stared at Andrew. Every muscle in his body strung tight with an intensity he had never experienced before. The lunch he’d devoured a short bit ago curdled in his belly as he dangled on tenterhooks waiting for his friend’s response.

  “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to meet the lady who has you all tied up in knots.” Andrew smirked and clapped Brennan on the shoulder.

  “Excellent. I shall have my sister, and her husband, attend as well.” Happiness and excitement coiled within. He lifted his post-meal brandy, took a small sip from the snifter, and paused. “You know, her aunt is hardly older than she is. Perhaps you two will become better acquainted.”

  Andrew sputtered, his own sip of brandy spattering his vest. “Are you attempting to saddle me with her chaperone? I will remind you, I am but two years older than you are. Barely even counts.”

  Brennan laughed at his sensitive friend’s reaction. “I only mention it as she was also attractive. I would never wish an old maid on you.”

  A short while later Brennan rose and stretched. “Excellent repast, but I must stop by and see my sister you know.”

  “Good luck with the Dragon.” Andrew stretched his legs out and settled deeper into his chair.

  Brennan headed over to his sister’s home where he explained needing her attendance for dinner the following evening. She agreed as soon as she learned the party included a female of interest to him. The matchmaker in her overrode her inner dragon much to his relief.

  ***

  Serena sat in the coach chewing her lower lip in nervous distraction. She could not help but worry arriving without a chaperone would be suspicious. In the end, she resigned herself to indulging her curiosity. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach when the coach drew to a stop outside of Brennan’s townhouse. It had a sedate facade consisting of whitewashed brick, a blue door, and matching shutters. Taking a deep breath to calm her agitation before she alighted from the carriage bought her only a moment’s respite. She found herself standing before the door far too soon.

  Reaching out with a hand racked by tremors, she slapped the knocker against its brass plate. Her fingers had scarcely released the handle when a tall immaculate man opened the door.

  “Good evening. I am here to see Mr. Whitling.” Serena presented her card, willing her hand to cease shaking.

  Taking her card, the butler all but hustled her into the foyer before he glanced at it. “He is expecting you. May I take your wrap and reticule?”

  Serena slipped her shawl off her shoulders and let the overeager butler whisk it away. She held on to her small bag in case a quick escape became necessary. Turning from the butler, she bumped into Brennan.

  “Excuse me. I thought I heard you come in.” His baritone flowed over her like warm caramel.

  “Oh, I did not hear you walk up.” Her face simmered with an inexplicable blush. I am a woman of experience, not some simpering debutant.

  “I am very glad you came.”

  His proximity wreaked havoc with her ability to think, but the smile he bestowed made it worth the trip. “I am as well.” Butterflies created a sudden knot that grew heavy like a bucket of coal. She would never be able to choke dinner down if the gastric acrobatics did not improve.

  He glanced past her with a quizzical look. “Is your aunt not with you?”

  “She uh….” Damn and blast, I was a fool to come without a chaperone. “She had a megrim and sent me on alone.”

  “Please, wish her a speedy recovery for me and thank her for sending you on.” He turned and presented her his arm. “My other guests have already arrived. Shall we go meet them?”

  She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and prayed he did not notice the tremors continuing to plague her. He led her into a cozy sitting room that contained a small group. A woman sat on the settee next to a handsome man who appeared absorbed in what she said. Another gentleman stared into the flames of the fireplace, brooding alone. He stood taller than Serena, but not by more than a couple of inches.

  “Miss Freemont, I would like you to meet my sister and her husband, Sir Harry Thornton and Lady Caroline Thornton. Harry, Caro, this is Miss Serena Freemont.”

  His sister was a Lady! Serena bit back her gasp and curtsied. The evening, without a doubt, would be a disaster of epic proportions.

  Brennan continued the introductions. “And this disreputable specimen is my best friend, Mr. Andrew Johnston.”

  The dark, dashing man kissed her hand, let his lips linger a tad too long, and straightened up. A lock of chestnut hair flopped into his deep blue eyes. “It is very nice to meet you, Miss Freemont.” As expected, he edged past her in height, yet still came up shorter than Brennan.

  “It is lovely to meet you all.”

  They sat and chatted for a bit before the butler announced dinner. Caroline, as she had been instructed to call Lady Thornton, was escorted into the dining room by her husband, leaving Serena with both Brennan and Andrew to accompany her. They settled at the table and dinner was served.

  “I am sorry to hear your Aunt Henrietta is not feeling well this evening. How very kind of her to allow you to attend without her.” Caroline picked up her glass to sip her wine and eyed her suspiciously.

  Serena choked on a bite of food as she swallowed. “She felt so poorly, and Brennan had mentioned there would be other females. Although, she did instruct me to leave should that turn out to be false.” She fluttered her lashes at Brennan in the hopes her flirtation would act as a distraction.

  “I do believe I have been insulted.” He barked a laugh that startled everyone.

  Dinner carried on with Caroline and Andrew regaling them with childhood stories of the scrapes Brennan seemed to always find himself in. A footman presented a note to Brennan’s sister with her dessert. She gave the note a quick perusal and darted a worried glance at her husband. “Oh dear, it seems my youngest is ill. Harry, I am afraid we must go.”

  “What a shame the lemon tart shall go to waste.” Brennan rose to escort his sister out.

  “I should go as well.” Serena made to leave.

  “I feel terrible about this.” Caroline paused. “At least stay and have your dessert before leaving. No one shall know.” She looked fondly at Brennan. “My brother will be a perfect gentleman.”

  “Indeed, I will,” Brennan vowed as Andrew stood.

  “I am lodged not far from you, Sir Thornton, could you drop me on your way?” Andrew winked at Brennan in a not quite sly aside.

  “Of course,” Harry agreed as they departed in a rush.

  The group bustled out of the dining room. Upon Brennan’s return, she grew unsure what to say, or more accurately, what a proper young lady would say in such circumstances.

  “Well, we seem to be left on our own to enjoy our desserts.” Brennan sat down and took a bite of lemon tart.

  Serena followed suit and tried to focus on her plate. S
he managed a few bites before the knots returned. Somehow, Brennan’s friends and family had put her at ease, but with their departure and that of all the servants, she’d lost her buffer. Alone with him, her body seemed to have one thing in mind. The juncture of her thighs heated, her core moistening in anticipation of taking him within.

  His fork clinked against the china as he set the heavy silver utensil down. “Would you like to join me in the study? I could use a brandy.”

  “So could I.”

  Brennan’s jaw unhinged halfway as he stared at her. Finally finding his voice, he sputtered, “You drink brandy?”

  “My father lets me sip it?” Serena’s skin stretched with a weak smile. She had misspoken with no way to cover it.

  “How singular.” Brennan shook his head and stood, extending her his arm.

  Chapter Three

  Surrounded by wood and leather, Serena grew certain her handsome host must have guessed the truth after her slip up about the brandy. His intense blue-gray eyes focused on her from across the room as the door clicked shut.

  “I am sorry my friends had to leave so early. If you need to leave, I can call my carriage around for you.” He looked so earnest and yet all she could see was hope. Hope she would stay or hope she would go?

  “Not at all. I thought you wanted a nightcap?” Comfortable in this pseudo-hostess role, she eased over to the decanter of cognac, or perhaps brandy? She lifted the lid. A delicate sniff told her the crystal contained the promised brandy. Excellent. She splashed two fingers of the amber liquid into a set of glasses and carried them toward her host who remained plastered against the study door.

  She handed him a glass, transferring the smooth cool container to him before taking his warm free hand. A gentle tug got him moving so she could lead him to a nearby couch where they settled together. A heady, lightheadedness heightened the pulsing sensation of her blood thrumming as her body warmed to an uncomfortable temperature. Her breasts felt trapped by her corset and gown, and yet balanced in the most precarious way at the lip of her bodice. Serena had never experienced such anticipation before.

  “Tell me, Mr. Whitling. How did you end up in the textile business?”

  “Tell me, Miss Freemont. How have we not met before now?” He leaned in close and traced her ear with his fingertip.

  Little shivers raced up and down her spine as though a breeze had stolen into the room. Tamping down the baser instincts demanding his touch, she focused on sipping her brandy. The dear man thought her a debutante. Not the practiced harlot that she was. He would be shocked were she to stand, strip, and proceed to manipulate both him and the situation with her usual finesse.

  “I cannot imagine. Honestly, I am on Bond Street quite regularly. But—” She hesitated. “Well, I shouldn’t say it. It just isn’t proper.” She blushed.

  “Please, you may say anything you like to me.” He set his brandy on a side table and took her hand in his to offer her assurance.

  Unsure how to respond Serena bit her lip. The truth of her next words rang clearer than the voice of a choirboy. “Well, I am glad I ran into you.” She could at least be true to her feelings if not her story.

  It took but a moment for her snifter to disappear under Brennan’s power before he swept her into his arms. The comforting band of bone and sinew surrounded her as his chest pressed against her sensitive breasts. Even through five layers of clothing, her nipples tightened and pressed forward seeking his heat.

  Warm lips claimed her soft moist ones, and his tongue demanded entrance. She willingly opened to him, accepted him, and welcomed him into her body.

  He probed her mouth and caressed her teeth with his tongue as his hands sought out her precariously positioned breasts. It took ever so little coaxing and the loosening of her bodice for her to spill out over the top of her dress. He treated her to more attention than she had known in recent memory.

  Her pebbled nipples grew harder as his teeth worried one nub and then the other. He cupped her breasts and lifted them, leaving her to hang on to him as he licked and suckled. Heat and moisture pooled low in her belly and between her thighs. She reveled in the tingling ripples radiating out from her pussy to her breasts and down to her toes. Normally a man did not take the time to treat her to such pleasures.

  A low groan escaped him as he pulled away from her glistening breasts. “My apologies, we should stop this immediately.” His voice rumbled with desire.

  “No.” Her body’s demands left her legs like jelly and her mind fogged.

  “Serena, this—” He leaned back farther, attempting to put more distance between them.

  “I want this, Brennan. I want this with you.” She stood and unhooked the rest of her dress letting it pool at her feet.

  Brennan’s mouth dried out as he stared at her breasts resting over the edge of her midbust corset. She wore the sheerest underclothes he had ever seen on a flesh-and-blood woman. They may as well have been transparent. Had he ever seen anything so erotic? He could never have imagined this moment when he invited her and her aunt to dinner. His cock gave an eager twitch against the fall of his trousers as a reminder of the matter at hand.

  She raised her chemise a bit more and straddled him on the couch. Between her black hose and white chemise, her creamy thighs were exposed. He placed his hands on either leg and caressed the irresistible delicate skin there. She shivered, whether in reaction or anticipation he remained unsure. He no longer cared as electricity shot through his fingers and down to his painful erection. Need pulsed deep in his groin as he hauled her against his chest and plunged his tongue into her mouth.

  Heaven. Her warm wet tongue caressing, exploring. Her hands skimmed down his neck and chest to push his jacket off his shoulders. Next, she peeled away his shirt and let her delicate fingers trail little patterns over his flesh. It seemed he would expire of want. Not to be out done, he reached up, took the tip of each breast between his fingers, and rolled the points to hardened tips. She moaned and ground her mound against his cock.

  Uninhibited. She was naturally uninhibited. It was the only explanation he could come to in the fog of lust.

  He drifted away from their kiss and turned to ease her down on to the sofa. Levering himself up, he shed his pants. Ever eager to join the interlude, his cock sprang out and stood at attention. A drop of clear fluid leaked from the tip. Serena stretched out and wiped it off with a finger she then sucked between her full pink lips. Brennan’s body shook as he worked to control the lust coursing through him. Where had an innocent learned to do such a blatantly sexual thing?

  “Please,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper reaching out and caressing his tortured nerves. Innocent or not, he needed to be inside her warmth.

  He kneeled between her legs and spread them wider. The urge to savor her, to see if she tasted as sweet as she seemed was driving him to the edge of madness. But his body ruled the day. Resting the tip of his cock at her slick entrance, he pushed onward in slow agonizing bits. Her hips lifted to try to meet him, but he pressed her into the couch with his weight. “Let me do this, love. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Confusion flitted across her face but disappeared with a small nod. Relieved, he surged forward again. Seated to the hilt, his balls against her ass, the realization dawned there had been no barrier. She felt tight, but he was larger than the average man. Again, something eluded him, but when she ground her pelvis against him, moaning, he lost all ability for critical thought.

  He drew back and plunged again. Pleasure engulfed him as his cock slipped out of her tight sheath. A gasp escaped her only to be followed by a sigh. He set a steady pace as he pumped in and out of her body. With her legs wrapped around his hips, she settled her hands on his arms. Her skin a living flame as the heat radiated off her body. He braced her hips to give him the leverage he needed to fuck her properly. Determined she enjoy their joining, he stroked a fingertip over her clit. She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyelids flew open. Their gazes locked as he continued
to stroke her with both his cock and his finger.

  The shudder racking her was of an intensity he had never experienced before. Not even with the one mistress he kept for a short time the previous year. She cried out her pleasure as her channel rippled around his throbbing erection. Picking up the pace, he pistoned into her without a thought as to how he used her body. Her noisy orgasm ended as his own release gripped him. He withdrew from her heat and stroked his cock with his hand coming on the nearby pillow.

  The languorous afterglow of sex still enveloped them as Serena sat up. Brennan seemed a little abashed as he sorted out his trousers and her dress. She decided he needed to relax. “Brennan, are you all right?”

  He stopped and turned to her clutching their clothing. “I-I should apologize for taking you like this.” He flailed his arms in an attempt to encompass the whole room, but ended up waving their clothes around instead.

  Forcing down a giggle, Serena rescued her dress. “Brennan, stop. I wanted this as much as you.”

  He pulled on his pants. “Yes, but here? On the couch? What kind of man am I that I could not control myself long enough to at least take you to a proper bed, much less wed—”

  “We could correct that oversight now.” She cut in, desperate to avoid the awkward conversation. Her blood heated as her gaze swept his muscular arms and chest. She needed to feel those arms wrapped around her and wanted nothing more than to be beneath him again. One more time before reality intruded.

  “Get married? Yes. We’ll need a special license….” He paced, no longer speaking aloud.

  “No,” she shouted. Her heart pounded as fear swamped her. The situation called for a diversion. Her tone turned seductive. “I meant we could go upstairs.”