Clean Regency Romance: The Earl's Temptation (The Pure Heart Triumphs Series Book 1)

by Pearl Goodfellow

  So this was love at first sight? Koln knew the emotions flooding his very being, his soul, wasn’t infatuation. He’d been down that road before, when as a youth, an older female had taken him under her wing and educated him on how to satisfy a woman and how a man could be satisfied. The whirlwind romance ended when the woman, from another clan, feared her husband would find out. That would have been disastrous for both of them. That had been about raging hormones and unadulterated sex though. And while it was powerful; intoxicating, even, it wasn’t the love he felt in this moment of clarity. Tiberius watched Saffron disappear into the crowds in the grand ballroom and memorized her walk, the way she carried herself, the curves of her small frame (and what curves they were!), everything about her in the brief time he’d encountered this woman, he knew her to be his ultimate future. He noted the way she swung her arms and how she clenched and unclenched her delicate fingers as she moved quickly back into the partying horde.

  When she was gone, TK snapped himself out of the void, and striding down the magical hallway of light, went to the bathroom to take a leak and catch his breath before he went back into the milieu. When TK finished his business, he splashed cool water on his face, slicked back his longish hair, and studied his reflection in the mirror above the porcelain basin. His nose, which had been broken several times over his life, still remained fairly straight although a small bump on the bridge belied the rugged lifestyle of a typical Blood. A miniscule scar ran through his right eyebrow and another graced his chin. Tanned skin covered in the tattoos of the 17 clans, attested to the thin atmosphere and lack of protective ozone on Mars. A faded, worn black leather vest, called cuts by the bikers of old, left unfastened, showed off washboard abdominals and rippling pectorals. The emblem of the First Blood clan was patched on the back. All in all, Tiberius Koln struck a memorable chord in those who saw him, and his rugged good looks were alluring to Martian and Terran women alike. He appraised himself with pale blue eyes which took him aback. Koln rarely looked at himself in a mirror. There was no need and he was not vain. ‘Could a woman; a Terran woman, find me attractive?’ he pondered, then, ‘Why in Odin’s name should I care?’ But he did care. At least about one Terran woman, a Deb at that. Somewhat disgusted with himself, Tiberius exited the bathroom and re-entered the grand hall with a scowl on his face and new determination.

  Saffron darted quickly into the crowded hall after seeing the Master Seeder. Would he give away her secret? Had he seen her mash the illegal ear piece? He moved like a panther, silent and sure, and she was unsure how long he’d been leaning against the wall watching. And something else churned her nervous insides as well. Tiberius Koln was gorgeous and she wanted him desperately. She NEEDED him to choose her. The thought of Sasha Posy entwined with Koln sent icy spikes of jealousy throughout her body. But he’d seen her sans mask, for how long? was the question. She would have to remedy that situation first and found one of the Debs she’d been friendly with in the last few months. Saffron found Tiffani chatting up two Bloods who were practically drooling over her, undressing the naïve Debutante with their eyes and touching her suggestively from time to time. She pulled her fellow Deb away, promising to return her in a minute.

  “Tiffani, come with me. I need you!” Saffron practically hissed as she tugged the other woman’s arm and drew her into a hallway and then into the bathroom where she checked the stalls to make sure they were alone.

  “What is so important? Did you not see that I had those scrumptious barbarians on a short tether? God, but I simply love those tattoos! Dreamy muscles too. You couldn’t get that on Earth! Now what is it?”

  “Switch masks with me. I know you like mine, you said so, and nobody needs to know. There’s no rule against it, so c’mon, help me out.”

  Suspicion spidered it’s ways across Tiffani’s features, “Well, I dunno, Saffron. It may be legit, but it is also highly irregular.”

  “Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s for a good reason that I can’t discuss, and you’ve always admired this mask.” Saffron held the mask out with shaky hands and a hopeful smile.

  “Okay, okay. But no one can know, Saffy. Promise me! On your oath.”

  Saffron tried to keep her enthusiasm from her face as she solemnly swore never to tell a soul, living or dead. Tiffani donned the new mask and primped in the mirror to make sure her red tresses were properly tucked away and drew herself up to her full 5 foot, seven inch height.

  “Ta ta, Saffy, I have work to do, and two yummy Bloods to help me,” and she almost floated out of the restroom.

  Saffron checked her skin suit to ensure that her heart shaped birthmark was covered and slid the mask onto her head. The design was striking and in sharp contrast to the mask she’d swapped for. The face was an alluring baby blue and framed with cascading, clear quartz crystals, alternating with translucent dark amber droplets. The lips were of a highly polished bronze that Saffron surmised would catch and reflect the myriad colored lights as she walked the Strutway. Thinking about the “walk for life”, the relieved Deb walked briskly back to the grand hall, just as the announcement was made for the ladies to ready themselves to: “Strut your stuff”.

  The Bloods took their places, with the Blood Empire’s leader sitting in First Chair. He smiled and shouted, “bring em’ on,” the signal for his brood to start the catcalls and vulgarities that would make a sailor blush. Each Debutante, starting with Sasha Posy, would walk half the oval shaped Strutway before the next one appeared from the shrouded entrance. After all 500 Debs had made one circuit to show themselves off individually, a second and third lap would occur with the women spaced only ten feet apart so that they would be seen as a whole and hopefully confuse the Bloods by obscuring identities. This school of fish technique only went so far, and the Mars men could discern height and body type easily, while the Deb remained semi-anonymous in the full regalia of her red, black, and turquoise costume.

  Chapter 15

  As the music started, and Sasha Posy began her seductive walk across the stage, outside of the palace, the dark held it’s own secret. A line of crouching, dark clad figures, slinking it’s way toward the Palace’s perimeter. Four hundred in all, the men and women of the People’s Revolutionary Council, approached, but did not attempt to breach the walls. They knew to avoid the sensors that were placed at regular intervals around the 50 acre compound. It was not time, yet. The attack would be launched when the Debutantes were safely ensconced in the socialization complex with the Bloods. The goal was not to harm the Debs or engage the battle tested Martians: the goal was to shine a light on the unfairness of the deep rift between the very few super rich Terran’s and the multitudes of poor. The latter being kept that way by the few Terran elite.. The leader, a former Debutante named Madeleine “Maddie” Pallister, had organized the resistance over a ten year period, so as to build her shock troops slowly, and not attract the notice of the government.

  At the halfway point, Sasha struck a pose for the screaming Bloods and to signal the next Deb to enter the Strutway. Saffron sashayed onto the raised path in perfect time to the music and a roar of approval arose when she bent over, shook her head, and pushed her beautifully rounded tush out, giving her buttocks a shake or two. She caught the diminutive Francois Biscayne’s open grin; only the 4th time he had bestowed such emotion in her memory, and a clear signal that she was “on like popcorn”. Saffron took heart that even though they were both short in stature, they were each at the top of their respective careers. Koln would forget all about height when he got a load of her wares. ‘Look out buddy, here comes the real deal!’

  Sasha heard the commotion and turned to see Saffron stealing the show. This would not do. She started to try to draw the wanton eyes of the Blood pack back to her writhing body, but Saffron countered with an even more provocative dance. The third Debutante entered as Saffron made it to the halfway mark, and on and on it went for the first circuit until all 500 exited at the end. Tiberius Koln sat rigid in the First Chair straining
to find the Deb with the gold and ivory mask ringed with black feathers. The 7th woman wore the mask, but he was not fooled. She was taller and did not move like the one he sought. ‘Two more circuits to find her,’ he thought. His normally flinty heart beat hard in his chest, as he began to feel like he would not identify the Debutante he longed for.

  The 2nd lap began, and Saffron, following Sasha Posy, shimmied sideways while shaking her shoulders and showing off her small, shapely breasts. As Saffron turned to do the same towards the center of the horseshoe shaped Strutway, she saw Tiberius sit up straight and his eyes locked onto her. At least she thought it was her that the Master Seeder was watching. Sasha, before her, and the third Deb behind, combined with the distance, made it difficult to know for sure, in the kaleidoscopic mayhem of the moment. By the time she reached the mid point, she could feel, yes feel, Koln’s eyes burning into her.

  Tiberius’ heart leapt into his throat! It was her, he knew it, and he couldn’t rip his gaze from her as she danced seemingly just for him. Why had she tried to deceive him? Did she wish to be chosen by another? Now the unknown Deb neared his position at First Chair, where she simulated several sexual acts only feet away. The message was clear. She wanted him. TK thought about choosing her right then, but he felt a lance of spite, and for trying to fool him with her new mask, he decided to make her wait until the 3rd lap. He’d make her work for it. Saffron blew the proud Blood a kiss and he could see her wink behind the mask, and he once again almost selected her on the spot.

  Saffron passed Koln and exited in fury. The son-of-a-bitch had passed her over! He had not chosen anyone as yet, but her heart felt heavy and she felt like screaming and crying at the same time. She barely felt the small hand come to rest on her arm and turned in surprise to find Francois standing next to her. She leaned down to hear his words in the din as he whispered in her ear.

  “Tiberius Koln will choose you on the last circuit. I saw the way he looked at you. His eyes did not waiver from you once. The man was bored, if that is possible, until you wooed him, Saffron. You will be chosen first, I am sure of it.”

  Though trembling, Saffron nodded and readied herself for one final outing on the Strutway, the last chance to garner Koln’s favor. And then she knew, knew it in her bones and very soul, Tiberius was the unattainable man from her dreams. She flashed on years of waking in the chill of her own sweat, wondering who the man was. He could choose her, would choose her, but then what happened? Sharing a life with him was impossible! But living without him was no life at all. There had to be a way! Saffron stepped out into the lights and sound, locked eyes with the man of her dreams, and refused to shift her gaze anywhere else. Tiberius could not look away and actually stood, a heretofore unknown action by an alpha Blood, waiting for Saffron to come before him. He extended his arm and then his index finger and pointed directly at his chosen, the Yin to his Yang, the sun in his sky. The Terran's went wild, partly because of the upset; Sasha had been overshadowed even though she had been favored, and partly with relief that the Master Seeder had finally chosen a Debutante.

  Saffron strutted off the horseshoe and was greeted by a round of congratulations from everyone, but Sasha Posy -- who appeared forlorn and dazed at her loss. Stanford Beauxtonus Mountbatten threw his arms around his daughter knowing that honor was restored to him and his family.

  “I knew you would do it darling Saffron, I just knew you would win!”

  Saffron shrugged Father’s embrace off as if he were a vile slug and turned on him, “You disgust me, Father! There is more to life than being number one and rich. There is love, respect, and true friendship. You’re nothing but a filthy beggar!” she said through clenched teeth. “Father, you may dress in your finery and have your beautiful wife decorating your arm, but you are worse than poor. You’re emotionally bankrupt and the sight of you sickens me. Now go! I do not want to gaze upon your disloyal face again,” and she turned away from the stunned man who could only watch, slack jawed, as his victorious daughter walked toward her spoils: Koln. Father was, for once in his life, speechless.

  For too long, Saffron had wanted to berate her parents for their plastic, affected airs and hated herself for being forced to emulate them. Fakes! Phonies, all of them. She stormed to the waiting area where the Debs were then shepherded to the socialization complex to wait for the rest to finish and be selected by the Bloods. Saffron took off the Venetian mask and replaced it with the flesh colored uni-mask to maintain her anonymity as was the law. The laws had not bothered her before, but now they seemed ridiculous and petty. Who cared if the Bloods knew who a Deb was? Now, all the rules and regulations chaffed like sandpaper on raw skin. She simmered and stewed, but kept her social mask on for the time being. Who would know if she chose to take it off once she was in the chambers where mating occurred? It was reported that there were cameras in the socialization rooms, but it was also rumored that the Bloods disabled the visual devices every time they visited. Besides, Koln, she knew, wasn’t accompanied by a careware unit, and didn’t they also get to enjoy a very private chamber, as was custom for Koln?

  Outside, just shy of the range of the perimeter sensors, Maddie and her cohorts heard the roar of the crowd within and knew it would be soon that they launched the attack; maybe another 30 minutes or so. She radioed the team responsible for burning the accursed maze. The fire would serve two purposes. First, as a symbolic gesture meaning the wealthy would not be able to use the poor for their own entertainment anymore. Second, it would be a worthy distraction that would draw guards away from the grand hall where the Haute Societe was held, and where the milling rich folk would still be partying.

  Maddie Pallister reflected on what had led her to this point, and how unlikely it would surely seem to the rest of the world: that a former Deb would be leading a revolution. Some had called her insane, and maybe she was, but it was a sure bet that she was mad as a wet hen! At one time in the not so distant past, Maddie had been one the elite, the Illuminati, revered and sought by reality shows and the media. She was loved by all, or so she believed. But something had gone terribly wrong. Maddie had been forgotten by her admirers. One minute she was in the limelight, the next she was an obscure nonperson shunted to the side by new Debutantes and stories that caught the ever changing appetite of the public. She was still rich, but Pallister craved the attention and open adoration she considered her due. The feeling of being left to moulder in the dust ate at her until she could no longer hide her resentment.

  One day, she simply disappeared, but not before taking millions of credits from her estranged husband’s bank account. He was outraged, and she still laughed as he alternately ranted about her during interviews following her disappearance. In all fairness, she had come across as unbalanced as she railed about the system on live V-screens. Well, they wouldn’t laugh now, not after tonight’s activities. Her only regret was not being able to warn her former HS tutor, Francois Biscayne. He had been her only true friend and confidante, and she still missed his calm demeanor and level headed guidance. Would she find him there tonight among the wealthy gutter rats? Maddie hoped not, but figured he probably would ultimately be found among the trash she hoped to take out. She was sorry about this, and it hurt her heart to think of the tiny man wounded in any way.

  Chapter 16

  Francois Biscayne untangled himself from S. B. Mountbatten, who had just transferred the bonus credits to the instructor, as per their agreement, should Saffron be selected first. His employment with the wealthy family was thankfully at an end. A timely conclusion, just as the Debutantes and Bloods were led away to the Socialization chambers. The small man barely hid his contempt for the patriarch as he turned to go. His thoughts drifted back in time, as he mentally ticked off his successes in his illustrious career. When he reached Madeleine Pallister, he wondered what had become of her. Her sudden disappearance had remained prominent news for weeks, as pundits speculated about where she could possibly have gone, but a fickle public soon moved on to the next b
ig thing. Maybe she was dead. Francois did not think so, but how was one to know? Maddie’s breakdown had been a sad affair and she had presented as mentally unbalanced in the news clips shown 24/7. She had not been able to handle life after the Haute Societe, and she point blank refused to go quietly into the night.

  Without realizing it, Biscayne found that he had strolled outside and was gazing at the stars. He could see Mars, the red planet in perihelion, the closest it had been to Earth in hundreds of years, and sighed. He felt tired and restless, and contemplated leaving his profession. He had amassed a small fortune and could live very comfortably for the rest of his life. Saffron would be “socializing” by now, and his heart went out to her. The stars seemed to twinkle with hidden messages meant only for him, but not in a meaningful way he could comprehend. ‘Ah well, some things are not meant to be understood by man nor beast.’

  Tiberius was kept at the ballroom for a few extra minutes to be interviewed. Dozens of microphones were shoved in his face as questions flew at him from every angle.

  “Mr. Koln, what was it about the Deb that made you choose her?”

  “Hey, TK, why did you wait so long to choose?”

  The queries did not get any better. Tiberius could not tell the ravenous horde the truth; that the leader of Mars had fallen in love after seeing the Deb --whose name he still did not know-- for a few seconds, unmasked. He affected his usual nonchalance and deflected the idiocy for as long as his temper would allow. Within five minutes, he’d had enough.

  “No more questions. I have a Debutante to entertain folks,” and he pivoted on his heel and headed toward the complex. A growing sense of urgency crept in: TK picked up his pace and was practically trotting as he burst through the doors to find the woman that haunted his soul. She would be waiting in his designated room. When he opened the door, she was not there! Checking to make sure he was in the right chamber (he was), he felt an unaccustomed panic grip him and he stood staring stupidly at the empty space. A switch clicked on in Koln’s brain and he dashed to the common area where the lesser alphas and betas would be in the process of deflowering the masked Debs, among other things. Once again, he burst into the room, eyes darting here and there trying to locate her. When he saw her, rage filled his being and he roared his battle cry as he ran across the room at full speed.