Unable to stand it any longer, he placed his hand against her forehead and sighed with relief at the touch of her cool skin. She didn’t have a fever.
That thought sent him to his knees in gratitude as he trembled. He had thought she was gravely ill. The thought of her possibly dying had shaken him to his core.
Why? Why did he care so much? Circumstances had brought them together. After the opera he realized that Sera was a person he could be friends with, a companion.
His desire for her was real, but desire didn’t make him feel ill at the thought of her sick or hurt.
He closed his eyes as the realization hit him full force.
He loved her.
Opening his eyes, he could no longer deny his feelings for her. He loved her, he thought again.
The thought paralyzed him. He loved her, and it was only by chance that he was marrying her. If that rumor hadn’t been started, she would most likely be marrying the duke.
And he would be marrying an heiress he didn’t love.
He didn’t know who started the rumor, but gratitude welled in his chest.
She may not love him, may not trust him, but he would treat her well and make her happy. She would be his.
He picked up a strand of her hair, running the silky threads through his fingers before lifting it to smell her rosy essence. She seemed so peaceful, so delicate.
Sensing another person in her room, Sera woke with a start, scrambling off the bed toward the fireplace. Grabbing the poker, she held it out like a sword.
“Don’t come any closer,” she said, trying desperately to see through the mass of hair that hung in front of her eyes.
He chuckled, holding up his hands. “I’m unarmed.”
She paused, lowering the weapon to the floor before flipping her hair back. “Quinton?” she asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I got your letter. I was worried and came to check on you.” He began to move toward her, taking in her mussed appearance like a man thirsty for water. She looked more beautiful like this, completely devoid of society’s trappings. The thick nightgown was modest, but its baggy shape led him to think about all it concealed.
His gaze raced over her body, finally settling on her eyes. “I’m glad to see you don’t suffer from a fever.”
“A fever?” She looked confused. “Why would you think that?”
“In your letter you said your household was suffering from a fever and that you didn’t feel well. I just assumed…” he trailed off as he shrugged. What more could he say? It wouldn’t be wise to tell her he had been out of his mind worrying about her. That he had imagined her on her deathbed.
She rubbed her head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear. I helped oversee the staff today, and by the end of it, I had a headache. I just needed to rest to clear it.”
“I can see it’s still there.”
She nodded. “Yes, but it isn’t nearly as bad as it was earlier.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
She fidgeted with her hands. “I wanted to tell you how much I love your gift. I’m sorry I didn’t write a note, but I wanted to tell you in person. It’s gorgeous.”
A smile spread to his lips. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’m sure the glasses will get plenty of use.”
“Shall we attend many operas?”
“Yes. I’ve always gone before and I see no reason why we couldn’t enjoy them together. Do you not agree?” he added, suddenly unsure if she had enjoyed the experience as much as he had.
“Of course. It was quite entertaining,” she said with a sly smile.
He laughed out right. “I promise you that they aren’t all that terrible. Some are actually quite good.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that.” She paused, looking down at the floor before raising her gaze to his again. “You know you didn’t have to do it. I know they must have been very costly.”
His heart clenched. He could see that she meant it and that she clearly understood what he had sacrificed to buy them. They had been very dear, but they had been worth it.
The money didn’t really matter to him anymore.
Surprise surged through him at the truth of his feelings. He had started out only caring about the money, but not any longer. He was marrying her for her. She was the true prize. Not her dowry. How could he help her see that? How could he earn her trust so that she would believe him?
They paused for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. What was she thinking? “I climbed up through your window,” he finally said, abruptly ending their silence.
Her mouth fell open. “You did what?”
“I climbed up the ivy and through your window. You should really be more careful and keep it closed. Or have the ivy cut. It could be dangerous.”
“No doubt with men climbing into my room during the night,” she said dryly.
He grinned. “Your butler wouldn’t let me see you, and I wanted to know how ill you were.”
She laughed and placed a friendly kiss on his cheek. “Well, I appreciate your concern, but I am quite well. Nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t fix anyway.”
Her kiss scorched his cheek. The print that it left on his skin seemed to brand his soul. He had been kissed by some of the most beautiful women in Europe, but nothing compared to the small kiss his fiancée had just given him.
He wanted more. He wanted her.
Seeing his look, she quieted. “Forgive me for kissing you. I must not be thinking straight.”
He shook his head. “There is nothing to forgive.”
A blush crested her cheeks. “You should probably leave. It wouldn’t be good if you were discovered in my room.”
“You’re right,” he conceded, but couldn’t bring himself to turn away from her.
Reaching down, he found her hand, slowly bringing it to his lips. He needed something, something more of her.
Brushing his lips across the back of her hand, he relished the silky smoothness of her skin, the delicate perfume that permeated his senses. No woman had ever smelled so perfect, so desirable.
He felt her slight tremor, the quick intake of her breath. He smiled. She was just as affected by him as he was by her.
Straightening, he saw the clouded look in her eyes, a reflection of the desire he felt.
“Sleep well, Sera.” He said her name like a caress.
Turning, he slipped out the window and down the vines to his waiting carriage.
His heart ached as he thought of his love for her. It was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do, leaving her just then. He wanted to make love to her, make her his, but he would wait until the moment was right. Until they were married. He respected Sera too much to not follow tradition in this instance. Their courtship, or lack thereof, had gone directly against what was proper. Sera deserved everything that an engagement should entail.
Why shouldn’t he court her? He hadn’t won her fairly. Although he would have her dowry, she had been forced to marry him because of the scandal.
And that wasn’t good enough anymore.
He wanted her love. He wanted her desire. He wanted her to want to be with him.
And he wanted to win her on his own, not because of a rumor.
Smiling, he thought of all the ways to court Sera. He hoped she wouldn’t be able to resist falling in love with him for long. And for the first time in a long time, there was a spring in his step.
CHAPTER 7
Groggy, Sera woke up to the sun shining bright through her window. What had happened to her always waking up with the sunrise? Since her engagement, she seemed to have finally adjusted to the hours of the ton, going to bed close to sunrise and waking up at midday.
Rising out of bed with disgust, she rang for Lydia.
“Oh, good, you’re awake, my lady,” Lydia said as she hurried through the doors. “There’s something you should see.”
Panic rose. “Is it Cook or Mrs. Buttersly?”
“What?”
Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Oh, no, my lady. No. I’m sorry to cause you a fright. They are both well and back to their duties.”
“Good.” Sera breathed a sigh of relief. “Then what is all this about?”
“I think you should come see for yourself. Follow me to your sitting room.”
Donning her wrapper, Sera followed Lydia with curiosity. What could be in her sitting room that she needed to see so urgently?
Walking into her parlor, she got her answer. The smell of hundreds of roses wafted toward her. The room came alive in reds, yellows, oranges, and pinks. It seemed as if every bowl or vase they owned had been used to house the fragrant buds.
“What… what is all this?” Sera couldn’t stop herself from looking around the room, her mouth gaping open.
“They’re for you. From Lord Devericks.”
Her mouth dropped open. “All of them?”
“Yes, my lady.” Lydia smiled. “They began to arrive this morning from shops all over the city and they haven’t stopped coming since.”
“He must have cleaned out the city,” Sera said in disbelief.
Lydia nodded, looking around the room. “It looks that way.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small note. “This came with the first batch.”
Leaving Sera to her privacy, Lydia left the room.
Sinking into a chair, Sera couldn’t stop looking at the flowers. It was too much. No one had ever showered her with such opulence. The cost was staggering. First the opera glasses, now flowers. He must have nothing left.
Her heart fluttered. He had given everything he had to her. It wasn’t because he had to, or that he felt obligated, he just had. They were already engaged. She hadn’t expected anything from him. The arrangements for their wedding had been made.
But he still showered her with gifts. Almost as if he cared. Almost as if it were a love match.
Could it be true? Was it possible that Quinton had developed feelings for her?
Her heart sped up with the possibility. Standing in this room, surrounded by hundreds of flowers, she could believe it.
Or was he just trying to make up for the situation? Did he feel sorry that she had been forced into the marriage?
Shaking her head, she forced that thought out of her mind. She cared for him. More than she had expected to, and she knew he felt the same.
He had been worried about her last night, and hadn’t been able to rest until he had seen her for himself. That didn’t seem like a man that didn’t care.
Oh, yes. He cared. But how much? Was it just friendship? Lust? Or was it more?
Reaching out, she plucked a red rose from a tall glass vase. Brushing the petals across her cheek, the smooth soft touch sent shivers down her spine. That was how his kiss had felt. Soft and pliant across her skin, but that’s where the similarities ended. His lips were strong, overwhelming. Fire had scorched up her arm. She hadn’t known a kiss could feel that way.
Her hand had been kissed by many gentlemen, but never like that. No, it had never felt quite like that. Lust was definitely involved.
She wanted to see him again, wanted to know more about him. There had to be a way to know for certain that he hadn’t started the rumor, to find hard proof so that she could trust him.
But did she need proof before giving him her trust?
The thought slammed into her. Wasn’t that the point of trust? Believing someone without proof? She wanted to trust him, wanted to believe him at his word.
“Lydia?” Sera called out, hoping her maid lingered nearby.
“Yes, my lady?” she said, coming into the room.
Handing Lydia the red rose, she asked, “Would you mind gathering several more of these and bringing them into my room? I want to wear them in my hair this evening.”
“Oh, my lady, that would be beautiful. I’ve laid out your cream gown for this evening, and these will set off the lacework on the dress beautifully.”
Sera smiled. She couldn’t wait to see Quinton tonight.
***
She had been right to pair the red roses with the cream lace gown. The splash of color in her hair made her lips look redder, her cheeks more pink. She looked young, fresh, almost as if this were her debut into society. But it wasn’t.
Her entrance into the ball that evening was much like she had experienced before the scandal. People stared at her, but not because they wanted a snippet of gossip. Her dance card filled up quickly, only a few empty spots remained for important gentleman that may ask her later that evening.
It was almost as if the scandal had never happened; yet it had. Gentlemen seemed to fawn over her, complimenting her hair and eyes. While she once enjoyed the attention, she felt it rather tedious now. What had changed? Certainly not herself. But then again, maybe she had. She wasn’t looking for a future husband; she already had one. These men knew she was already taken, but they still danced attendance on her.
Women of the aristocracy often took lovers after an heir was produced, but she would never betray her family in that way. No matter how much attention other men gave her, she would be faithful to Quinton.
Where was Aubrey? Shouldn’t she have arrived by now, she thought, her attention pulled away from her admirers.
Scanning the crowded dance floor, she didn’t see her friend amongst the other dancers. In fact, now that she thought of it, she didn’t see Quinton either. Where were they?
“Good evening, Lady Sera.”
Hearing Lord Bromley’s voice, Sera smiled, giving him a deep curtsy. “Good evening, my lord. I hope you are having an enjoyable time thus far.”
“I am, more so now that you have arrived. You look enchanting this evening.” He grinned at her.
“Thank you.”
“I had hoped to claim you for the next dance if you are not otherwise engaged.”
Sera couldn’t help but smile. It was Lord Bromley’s gentlemanly behavior that had always attracted her. “I would like that. As it happens, I have not promised the next dance to anyone.”
“Excellent.”
Leading her onto the floor, the music began. She moved easily with Lord Bromley, as they had danced many times before. It was interesting to realize she was never in love with him. She had thought the comfortable feeling she had had while in his arms meant that she was beginning to fall in love, but now she knew that it was just a deep friendship she had felt. She thought it odd how she could have been so off on her feelings.
Unable to hold back her affection for him, she smiled. “I hope you know how much I value your friendship.”
He looked down, returning her smile with a quirk of his lips. “I do. As much as I value yours. I want you to know…” he trailed off, trying to find the right words. “I want you to know that you can always come to me. I will always help you in any way I can.”
The gratitude that she felt from his words swelled in her chest. She would hate to ever lose his friendship. “Thank you.”
Gliding through a few intricate steps, they were quiet, both lost in thoughts of what-if.
The music ended on a sweet note, seeming to echo her relationship with Lord Bromley. She had known that after the scandal and her engagement that nothing could come between the two of them, but she hadn’t realized she still harbored the dream.
It was time to let it go. And she did.
He brought her back to where she had been earlier and gave her a deep bow. The smile she gave him was one of regret, but there was no going back to how she had been before Quinton. After an equally deep curtsy from her, he left.
It was interesting that she could feel so differently after one dance. She felt more free, more able to move forward with her life, unhampered by old dreams.
“You really need to move on.”
Hearing Victoria’s voice, Sera closed her eyes. What did she want now?
Turning around to face her arch-nemesis, Sera couldn’t even muster up a polite smile. “What are you talking about, Victoria?”
�
�Come now, Sera. There is no need to pretend.”
Sera gritted her teeth. “Speak plainly. I’m in no mood to fence words with you right now.”
“You must know by now.”
“Know what?”
Victoria studied Sera’s face before a smug smile curved her lips. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet. You must know that Lord Devericks didn’t start the rumor.” She paused dramatically. “I did.”
Shock coursed through Sera’s veins. No, it wasn’t possible. Victoria started the rumor? Victoria caused the scandal and her engagement? “Why?” Sera asked hoarsely.
One of Victoria’s dainty shoulders shrugged, her deep rose gown swishing with the movement. “Isn’t it obvious? I want Lord Bromley. I saw his intentions toward you were getting serious, and I had to get you out of the way so that he would focus on me.”
Sera’s mouth dropped open. “You did all this in the hopes that Lord Bromley’s attention would turn toward you?” Sera couldn’t believe the woman’s self-centeredness. She had taken away Sera’s free will, her choice of husband, all because of jealousy.
“Yes.” A pout slowly creased her lips. “It isn’t working out exactly how I had planned, but I hope that once you are wed he will move on and turn his attentions to me.”
“What makes you think you are his next choice?”
Laughter flowed melodically through her lips. “Come now, Sera. Besides you, I am the most beautiful debutant and possess one of the largest dowries. If not me, then whom?”
“Perhaps someone less selfish?”
“Don’t be so naïve, it doesn’t flatter you at all.” She looked up before continuing. “Ah, I see Aubrey has arrived. Well, I shall leave you two to be wallflowers. Please relay my best wishes to her.”
Fuming with anger, Sera couldn’t even deign Victoria with a response. She had never felt so moved to violence in her life.
Her dress fisted in her hand. Victoria really deserved a slap. She had changed Sera’s life with one vicious lie. Forced her into a marriage she hadn’t wanted. To a man she didn’t know.
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