Once Upon a Duke

by Sandra Masters

  Geoffrey paused then added, “I wish I was as you portrayed me, Serena. The sketch is marvelous. You have a specific artistic ability. Why do you not pursue it?”

  “The talent was born of a love of the arts, and then it became an escape from my pain. Henry would not approve of me exposing my meager attempts at creation.”

  “Did Henry know the beast to whom you were married?”

  “No, I did not want to involve him in such a delicate situation. He might have attempted to kill Trystan. Henry and Trystan were close friends and he urged me to marry him. To disclose my brother’s error in judgment would reflect poorly on him among his peers.”

  Geoffrey’s face tightened while his fists balled at his sides. “Henry should have protected you. It was his duty.” He paced to the farthest window and back.

  “Do not shame me with your pity, Geoffrey. I am strong, but in this society I am just a woman without influence.” She placed her hand on his arm, felt his muscle ripple.

  He swept her into his arms and embraced her. “I would never bring shame to you, sweet Serena.” He released her and stepped back.

  Geoffrey cleared his throat. “Enough of this talk. Shall we turn our thoughts to the evening ahead?”

  “Henry told me he would send the footman in the phaeton to drive you back. I can hitch Solomon to it, if you wish me to wait while you dress.” He touched his fingers to her cheek. “Wear something special…for me alone. It would please me.”

  “I would like to please you.” She rang for Emma who came immediately.

  “Pour Lord Austen a glass of cognac, Emma. Then come and assist me.”

  Serena departed to her bedroom.

  Something within her tingled at the thought of selecting a gown to wear just for him. It escalated into happiness as her fingers moved the hangers until she found the absolute right dress in her armoire.

  Wear something special for me alone, he’d said.

  She wondered if the dark red dress might be too bold. Because of him, she played the merry widow. It was in fact, her reality. Her mirror reflected a woman who was…

  Beautiful.

  Desirable.

  Exotic.

  Wanton.

  New emotions, all of them wondrous, made her head whirl with delight.

  Geoffrey had awakened pleasures long dormant. Her life was renewed by his presence. She looked forward to the future. Could it be a sin to be happy?

  “Emma, please get the rouge dress out of the armoire. I will wear my hair loose tonight with the sides pulled back, held by my jeweled combs.”

  Emma brushed Serena’s shining locks. “My lady, his Grace is such a handsome gentleman. Forgive me, but I would trade all I have for the likes of him.” She hid her grin behind her hand.

  Serena held Emma’s gaze in the mirror over the dressing table. “I did that once, and that one time turned tragic. I cannot, will not, give my heart to another man, even if he does make me want to enjoy all he offers.”

  Would one time be enough with a man such as he?

  “Beneath his façade, he is a good man,” Serena told Emma. All she’d known about bed-sport brought her pain. Would he compare her to other women if she succumbed to his charms?

  If he were to see her nude, would her scars disgust him? Would he cringe from her?

  “I say to follow your heart, but what do I know? I have nothing.”

  “Do not say that, Emma. You have me. I will always take care of you. You do know that?”

  “My lady, I do not deserve such consideration.”

  “Yes, you do. You are a wonderful friend who deserves a good man, and I shall see to it. You are loyal and have helped heal the wounds to both my body and my soul. I will never desert you. I have established a trust which will hold well for your future.”

  Emma fell to her knees. “I would do anything for you, mistress.”

  “You have done all I ever asked of you, except my hair is still askew.” She gifted her maid with a soft humorous smile as she lifted her to stand.

  Emma returned to the task of arranging Serena’s curls. “You already are taken with him, aren’t you?” Emma ventured.

  “Yes, far more than I care to admit. Fear is not my constant companion when I am with him, yet I remember the ways of my husband before we married. Afterward, he was not so cavalier. I have learned to fight on my own terms.”

  If she gave her heart to Geoffrey, it would be with full knowledge that he would break it when he left her.

  And leave, she knew he would. Rakes never fell in love.

  Chapter Seven

  Serena entered the room and saw Geoffrey’s eyes grow wide. The dark rouge-colored gown with puffed sleeves had an Elizabethan collar, high in the back and cleaved low in the front. Sheer net at her shoulders allowed her skin to shimmer through. The frock emphasized her slim waist and the silk fabric molded her hips before flowing in soft folds to the floor. A hand painted fan, which belonged to her mother, dangled at her wrist.

  Geoffrey rose and stared. “You are the goddess of love, Aphrodite,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You steal my breath.” He twirled her around. “Let me look at you. I shall be the envy of my friends.” He kissed the palm of her gloved hand, his lips lingered a moment.

  “So I am only a trophy to be displayed?” Serena jerked her hand away.

  “You should be out in society, dancing in your flirtatious manner. I do not suggest you flirt with any other man. In seriousness, I could not bear to see it. I would be a jealous man.”

  Her smile found its way through the mask of uncertainty. “Jealous because you might be denied your conquest?” Wasn’t that what Geoffrey valued, and not love?

  “You are excitement personified and it adds to your allure. You do tempt me so.”

  “Thank you. You do know how to compliment a lady.”

  He took her in his arms, his lips skimmed her ear, “I could learn not to be green-eyed, if I knew you belonged to me, heart and soul. All my companions would envy me. I should like that.”

  Again, he’d confirmed she would be nothing more than a notch on his erection. A prize to be won—not a woman to be loved.

  “Nothing to say, Serena? You do not give your body in a light way. I can attest to this, but I am a patient man.”

  “They say patience is a virtue, Geoffrey, but if you are waiting for me to succumb to your desires without the commitment of your heart, then you will soon run out of perseverance.”

  “We shall see, Serena.” His hearty laugh boomed. “We shall see.”

  She paused to adjust her glove. Emma handed her the evening wrap and matching reticule. “Shall we depart? You will need time to change into your evening attire.”

  Geoffrey followed Serena out, and left her on the veranda to get Solomon. Since he’d dismissed the footman, he tied his animal to the phaeton rail and stepped back to assist her. Their eyes met, and for a short moment, the universe held only the two of them.

  “I so wish we might forego your brother’s event and stay here. Henry, I know would come to look for us, and that would be inconvenient if you were naked beneath me. The mere thought whets my appetite, my dear lady Serena.” He laughed. “I fear it will be a long night for me watching you flirt with the other gentlemen, as I know you will.”

  “Yes, and perhaps one of them will fall madly in love with me, vowing his allegiance to me forever.” Serena raised her hand for him to assist her into the carriage. “You are free to pursue your rakish conquests, dear Geoffrey. There may be ladies, attached or otherwise, at Henry’s event from whom you may choose, I’m sure.”

  They didn’t converse when he tightened the reins, nor did he look at her. In a few minutes, the phaeton and its horses were back at the manor house where the footman helped Serena disembark.

  “See to my horse,” Geoffrey instructed a footman. “Tell the groom I will ride at the usual time in the morning. He ushered Serena into the foyer. They paused at the entrance of the dining hall to gr
eet Henry.

  Her brother, already dressed in his evening finery, greeted them. “There you are. I hope the artist’s renderings went well.” He took Serena’s arm. “You must be in a gay mood to wear a bold color, sister. It is about time you came out of mourning. I wonder if it’s because this rapscallion is around.”

  “Brother, I have never favored scoundrels. I do prefer charm over arrogance.”

  “Please excuse this rascal. I will see you later, my lady. Thank you for this afternoon. It was a pleasure and most informative.” He climbed the stairs two at a time. “I shall join you soon, Henry,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Don’t tarry, my friend. My female guests are anxious to meet you.”

  Henry turned to Serena. “I do hope he has behaved in a proper manner, sister. A liaison with such as Lord Austen would spoil the plans I have for you.”

  Henry’s remark disturbed Serena, but this wasn’t the time for seeking answers.

  “Lord Geoffrey was a gentleman. When he saw my paintings, he was impressed. He would like to purchase some. In particular, he liked the bullfrog.”

  “Your paintings are not for sale, Serena. You will not pursue it further.” Henry’s voice confirmed his intent.

  Henry’s unkind words meant to deflate her confidence in her ability to create in the world of art. Geoffrey’s interest and admiration confirmed her talent. She was grateful for that.

  She followed her brother to the drawing room decorated with fresh cut greens and giant blooms of white and purple hydrangea. The chandeliers were lit and candelabrum graced the huge side tables. The glow cast myriad reflections on the tapestry walls.

  “Have all your guests arrived?” Serena asked. “Do I know any of them?”

  “I do not believe you do. We are distant relatives of the Earl’s brother-in-law. One of the women is a famous operatic star. Her stage name is Rebecca Burns. She is married to Lord Brandon Winston, the Earl of Medford. She has a slight deformity but her beauty is beyond measure.”

  “What is the deformity? I would like to know so I do not offend by unintentional glances.” She fussed with her ivory tipped fan. “People with such disabilities are sensitive.”

  “Her right arm does not move as it should.”

  “I remember I read about her, Henry. I believe she sings in many countries.”

  “Arabella Larsen is a relation of sorts to them, if you can call it that. They both attended the Winston School for Ladies. Lord Winston’s sister sponsored the school before she met and married the Duke of Ravensmere. Rebecca and Arabella were schoolmates there, and came from the local village.”

  “She has no husband?” Serena asked.

  “No, she travels with the Winstons. I want you to pay special attention to her. I met the lady at a ball in London and I do confess she interests me. Arabella is a sweet blonde beauty, and has an agreeable personality. She teaches mathematics and other subjects at the Winston School—a novelty for a woman. Do you agree?” Henry dabbed his mouth with his handkerchief. “Her father is a skilled carpenter I am told.”

  “You are not concerned about her background?’

  “Yes, I am, but of all the women I’ve met, she attracts me most. I’m in a conundrum,” he commented. “They will be down in a moment.” He touched his cravat where his diamond stickpin rested. “Am I presentable?”

  “Yes, Henry. Your appearance is above standard, yet you are an unmitigated snob. If you have serious thoughts about this woman, perhaps you should invite her family here. When you marry, her relatives become yours also. I say this not to dissuade you, but so you can be sure of what you want. To hurt this woman if you cannot abide her status would be unfair. You don’t act like a normal man in love.”

  “I have weighed this. There are other alternatives to marriage. We will see how this week plays out. I would appreciate your opinion, as long as it is just that. Keep a tether on Geoffrey for me. He likes to poach.”

  “Pray tell, what makes you think I can dissuade him from anything he would do?” She laughed. “He is his own man. Are there any other unattached ladies here to distract him?”

  “No. There were supposed to be, but apologies were sent due to unforeseeable circumstances. You will have to occupy him. I will keep a sharp eye on the both of you.” Henry checked his pocket watch. “I see the way he looks at you. I am not blind. He is a man who should not be encouraged.”

  Serena knew it would take little time to seduce Geoffrey, or better yet, allow him to seduce her.

  Did she dare to spite her brother? Yes.

  They were interrupted when the Winstons and Arabella Larsen entered the room.

  Henry made introductions. His demeanor changed and he smiled like a bashful schoolboy. Serena studied the lovely woman who moved with grace and charm, as if born to it. Arabella’s hair had the sheen of spun gold. Long and full, she wore her champagne locks in one huge curl tied with a ribbon at the nape of her neck.

  Henry inspected Miss Arabella in apparent appreciation. Serena would like to know more about her.

  They sat listening to dinner music played by a trio of musicians. When Lord Geoffrey entered the room, introductions were made. Serena sat opposite her brother at the well-appointed long table and the other guests paired off. Miss Larsen sat nearest Henry, while Lord Geoffrey settled next to Serena.

  She raised her lashes in recognition. “It promises to be a fine evening, do you think, Lord Geoffrey?”

  “One never knows, Lady Serena. Fate is fickle, I have found.” He adjusted his pocket kerchief.

  “Henry has instructed me to keep you entertained this evening. I do think his interests are self-serving. See how Miss Arabella attracts his attention?” She gestured, her eyes toward her brother.

  “The lady is attractive,” Geoffrey said. “However, she doesn’t suit my tastes. My inclinations lie elsewhere with a dark-haired lady. I have learned outward appearances are not everything.” He glanced at Serena. “I wonder what is behind those dark mystic eyes of yours. What do you withhold from me?”

  “If I told you, they wouldn’t be secrets any more.”

  “You know I like it when you tease. It is such an invitation for mischief.”

  “Geoffrey, if one gaze could heat like a blast furnace in a steel factory, it would be yours. Please be circumspect.”

  “Why? Circumspection is for weaker men. Unlike you, I do not mind danger. I could show you paradise.” He quirked a brow.

  She absorbed every minute detail of the inspection as his eyes scoured her body. “I am not a woman used to such flattery. You radiate molten lava with your words. Do try to behave and be societal.” Her eyes stole away from the handsome rake at her side.

  “Henry has informed me that there will be no unattached ladies in attendance this week other than Miss Arabella. I trust that doesn’t disappoint you.”

  “I rather welcome it, Lady Serena. We will have more time for you to work on my portraits.” His comment was followed by the salacious smile she knew too well.

  The dinner conversation moved along with the fine food, and before she knew it the meal came to an end. She found herself enjoying Lord Geoffrey and his banter too much, and became at ease with him at her side as if with an old trusted friend. Or a fiancé?

  Serena asked, “Your Winston School interests me, Lady Arabella. It strikes me as a most worthy cause to embrace.” She wanted to make a good impression for Henry’s sake. He didn’t notice or acknowledge her effort.

  “The school has always been the passion of my sister, Samantha Worthington,” Lord Winston commented. “Remind me one day to tell you the story of the auction of her picnic basket for the charity event where the unmarried Duke of Ravensmere bid one thousand pounds so she would not have to suffer the advances of a known libertine.”

  Serena found it hard not to smile. “Some rogues, I have heard, can be divine.” She stole a look at the Duke.

  “Lady Serena, my sister is one of the strongest women I know, and has led an educ
ated life. She and her husband were a perfect match except neither of them knew it until it became impossible to deny.” His smile told a story.

  “The bid is a significant amount, yet Ravensmere’s Duke never did anything in a small way,” Geoffrey added. “I always found him to be a man beyond his times. We served on the same committee in the House of Lords. I do believe, Lord Winston, he mentored you when you first came to Parliament?”

  “Yes. I learned much in a short time.”

  The conversation turned to other topics of interest to them.

  Geoffrey placed his knee next to Serena’s. “You are far away. Come back to me,” he whispered, when his lips parted to devour a plump berry. “Take me along in the journey of your mind. Are you thinking of what I desire to have you experience?”

  Her eyes were glued to another seductive display performed in such a subtle, artful fashion, meant for her alone.

  “It might be a bumpy ride. Are you willing to take the risk?” she teased, shook her head, and jostled her comb to hang askance. “Goodness,” she muttered. Her hand reached and retrieved it with care. She handed it to Geoffrey as if a normal thing to do—the way a woman would do to a fiancé or a husband.

  He placed it in his vest pocket.

  His eyes sparked with eroticism, a look that could melt dark chocolate into cocoa butter.

  She ran her fingers down the right side of her curls and tucked the tendrils behind her ear. Intentionally, her glance more than invited—it seduced.

  Voices emerging in the background disturbed the moment.

  Henry interrupted, “Perhaps we could chat over brandy while the ladies refresh themselves.”

  The men moved to the library for after dinner drinks and the ladies retreated to the drawing room.

  ****

  Lady Rebecca held aloft a bottle to show. “On our last trip to Italy, I tasted Grappa de Piemonte which is heated to release the potent aspects of the skin of the white grapes.” Her eyes twinkled. “It is strong, I warn you. Do try, but take small sips. You will feel decadent.”

  When Serena sipped, she blinked her eyes. “It is stronger than cognac but it warms my throat.”