[excerpt] (12 page)

Chapter Six

Serina rode beside Lucian on top of the carriage taking in the sights, enjoying the evening air. Looking upwards towards the sun, she closed her eyes a moment, and allowed the waning warmth to settle into her soul.

“This is my favorite time of the day. I love the warmth of the sun, even on a chilly day, it finds you. I could sit and stare at it all day without so much as batting an eyelash. Well—you know, not exactly stare at it. I’d go blind if I did that now, wouldn’t I?” Serina rested her head on Lucian’s shoulder, to snuggle up to him, but she found the ride uncomfortable. With every bump in the road and jar of the wheels, her head bounced from his shoulder.

He laughed, tossed his arm around her and reined her in tighter.

“What?” Serina asked.

“You, my wild rose. You cannot possibly be comfortable, yet you continue to rattle your brains about just to be close to me. I assure you, m’lady, you will get your chance to be close to me again soon enough.”

Serina mumbled, “Our hourly joining is well past due.”

Lucian’s perfect smile showed off those lush, full lips that she needed on her again. Serina couldn’t get over how incredibly handsome he was with his hair tied loosely back. His silk shirt matched her dress color and his black linen pants got lost under the tails of his double-breasted silk jacket. Serina loved the way he looked yet the jacket covered up one of her favorite anatomical parts, his bottom. Damn formal events and all clothes for that matter, Serina thought, miffed that she couldn’t get the full view she wanted.

“I got that one. You really like my
arse,
hey?”

“Lucian St. James!” Serina gasped. “Aye, but indeed I do love watching you walk. Coming or going you are a sight for sore eyes.” She pat her cheeks as they flushed.

“After everything we’ve shared today you blush? You amaze me. Are you ready to be introduced to my world, m’lady? We’re here.” Lucian jumped from the carriage and held his hands to her. “May I introduce you as my fiancé? Or would you care to wait and have a more formal coming out party?”

Serina looked forward seeing what was nothing short of a miniature castle. Stained glass windows of deep vibrant reds and purples decorated every wall in intricate detail. Glancing to the tower, she saw a guard watching over the entire city. The gent looked as every bit as pretty as some of the women she’d seen entering the building. He wore a frilly, white-lace shirt, white knickers, white leather boots with black buttons and a white velvet jacket. His hat, Serina decided, was a cross between a pirate’s cap and one of the Three Musketeers. Plumes of feathers decorated the hat so it appeared as if a flock of birds nested atop his head.

“Let’s play it by ear. I want to see how many beautiful women you attract this night, before I go breaking too many hearts.” She gave him a half-cocked smile.

Lucian pulled her off the carriage directly into his arms, her feet dangling above the ground. “You are the only beautiful woman here. Remember that. Oh, if the Queen shows up just cover up your throat and hide your left hand for a bit, right?” Lucian kissed her cheek. With the look she gave he realized she honestly didn’t know if the ring and necklace were hers or the Queen’s. “I’m teasing you. I did not beg, borrow nor steal to get your jewels. Raven and I are very wealthy.”

“How wealthy?” Serina asked nonchalantly as she paused her steps checking herself over, smoothing out her dress and trying to fuss with her hair, which she decided she didn’t like wearing up.

“Very. Stop your fidgeting. You are ravishing. There will be an entire room of envious women tonight, Serina. Not because of the ring on your finger, but your beauty will be theirs to want and mine to have. Shall we go inside?”

“I’ve actually got butterflies smashing into each other in my stomach, Lucian. I’ve never felt this before. It’s sort of nice in a maddening way.”

Lucian looped his arm through Serina’s and led her to the doorman who wore the same blinding white attire as the tower guard. Once inside, they were introduced formally to a curious crowd as Lord St. James and Dr. Serina Spencer. A hush covered the room like a wet wool blanket with all eyes upon them. Whispers from women in all corners of the room found Serina.

For one thing, Lord St. James had an escort, other than his sister, a beautiful stunning creature, and secondly, a doctor. Most of the people amused Serina. The women thought Lucian would never find a woman because of Raven. They weren’t sure exactly how far their relationship as brother and sister went. The single women spent their conversations trying to pick her apart from her dress to her hair to her make-up, which she worried over as well. Most of the married women found her a perfect compliment for Lucian. Serina smiled in spite of her tummy’s trembles. Her alter ego soaked up each and every flattering remark.

Stepping into the stateroom Serina let out an, “Oh my,” as she ran a gentle finger across the table. The lavish room reeked of regal wealth. Rich, silk drapes with threads of glittering beads adorned the windows from the ceiling to the floor.

Tapestries and paintings from all the famous painters, van Gogh, Monet, Renoir and Degas, graced the walls. Renoir had always been her favorite. Even though she couldn’t make out the colors, she could visualize what he attempted to express, by the emotion of the portrait. Serina found his paintings laden with romance and a sensual serenity. Looking up, she noticed little cherubs hovering over everyone’s heads, like guardian angels. This certainly beat the little black and white magpies that waited on her window’s ledge of her home, bombing her occasionally.

About to pick up a glass of water and chug it to relieve the bone-dry mouth, Serina noticed the intricate roses carved into the crystal goblet. Suddenly she felt like a pauper in a jewelry shop, completely out of her league. The moment brought her right back to charm school and all her blunders as a young girl. The cruel laughter from the other girls in the class at her shortcomings because she wasn’t as dainty or schooled in etiquette or because she voiced her opinion instead of biting her tongue stuck with her. On any given day of the week, she couldn’t walk across a room without tripping over one of her two left feet. And she was certain beyond a reasonable doubt the women here wouldn’t want to know the daily goings on of a morgue or carry on a conversation about the orphans she cared for. Even if she did have a hundred stories she’d love to share about how loving and wonderful they were. Mist formed above her lip. She wiped it away plagued.

The atmosphere left her frazzled; she’d never been to anything so formal or beautiful. All the dinners she’d ever attended at the hospital were hosted by a bunch of stuffy men who sat around with pipes and cigars, blowing smoke up their own orifices, slurping down glass after glass of brandy, talking amongst themselves in an attempt to pretend she didn’t really exist in their world. For a moment, she wasn’t certain she fit into this one either. “This place is fit for the Queen, Lucian. She could actually dine here.”

“Serina, this place is the Queen’s.” He bent over her and kissed the top of her head lightly.

“If you’re trying to make me feel at ease, that wasn’t the correct thing to say.” She gave him a grim grin.

Lucian adored watching her walk about, taking in everything to the smallest detail in child-like wonder. Her refreshing outlook on life was the polar opposite of every woman in the room. One in particular, Contessa Van Holstein. What a nag, Lucian thought. How could two women be so very different? Contessa, an overtly zealous woman, cared for nothing other than the narcissistic reflection in her looking glass. His Serina was beautiful inside and out, caring, giving...his list could go on.

Serina, on the other hand, found each woman breathtaking. Gowns made from the finest materials of silks, satins, taffetas, and fine laces graced each woman, with cost obviously not a factor. She noticed most of the women were much larger framed than her, leaving her feeling malnourished and down-right trodden. The only thing that saved her from running out the door was the man that slid his arm around her waist and pulled her into his warm, inviting shelter. Serina’s heart began to slow down. She shyly asked, “Why me?”

“Your heart and soul belong with me, Serina. I knew it the minute I found you in my lap. These women are fallacious. They only care how far up the food chain they make it. Love is not in their vocabulary. Lust may indeed be there, but lust does not love make, m’lady. And I want love. I need only you. These women think of material possessions as being most important. You know the old adage, ‘he who dies with the most money wins.’ Wins what? You can’t take it with you when you’re gone, unless of course you’re a vampire.” Lucian quieted and shrugged his shoulders as he pondered the possibilities. “I wonder if people are writing a clause into their wills these days to hold settling their estates until three days after their funerals, you know, just in case they do come back and want to reclaim monetary and material possessions.”

“You honestly believe you’re going to end up one of them don’t you? Let me refresh your memory, Lord St. James. You are not dead. You did not die. Damned close but I saved your
arse
. Yes,
arse.
” Serina poked her fingers into his rock hard abdomen, bending them backwards. Annoyance masked her features. “Remember any of that? Please do not speak of death tonight. Today we celebrate life and our love. I want to enjoy you without worry for at least one night. Pl—”

Lucian quickly grabbed Serina and covered her mouth with his before she had a chance to finish. His kiss was tender, loving. “I apologize, m’lady. There will be no more talking about you know what for this night. Fair enough?” Lucian gave a quick glance about the room and put his cheek to Serina’s and whispered, “Look around.” It seemed their one kiss had stolen the attention of the entire room. “I see a few raised eyebrows. Would now be an appropriate time to announce our intentions or would you like to make them all wonder just a bit more?”

Mischief made his glance.

“You did that on purpose!” She turned herself into the shelter of his body, gazed up at him, and giggled. “Now, Sir, these people do not know me and are probably not having the purest of thoughts. Let’s clean up my act.”

“’Tis no act, m’lady, I assure you.” Lucian cleared his throat and grabbed Serina’s left hand and brought it to his lips. “My lords and ladies, I would like to share with all of you the woman who has entrusted her heart to me. Dr. Serina Spencer has accepted my proposal of marriage.” The room went still, all for one very upset woman who cried in hysterics as she strutted from the room, slamming a door behind her. An older gent standing close said, “Such theatrics, Contessa,” as she blew by him. He then lifted his glass and chanted, “Cheers, Lucian and Serina!” Others followed suit. People approached to congratulate them, hug them, and peck cheek after cheek with kiss after sloppy kiss.

Serina began to feel like a wet rag. She’d had enough of strangers slobbering all over her, even though their gestures were earnest. Enough was enough!

“Let the musicians play a waltz for these two,” a woman hiding under a bee-hived, white-powdered wig shouted.

Panic.

It slammed Serina full force. Maybe the slobbering kisses weren’t so bad, even from the one gent with blisters covering his lips. She was certain she had a spell to make them disappear. Or was it create them?

Either way, Serina had no clue how to dance. Had never danced. Had two left feet. Had always been too busy playing doctor, reading her books, dissecting anything dead left on the ground, messing up every spell she attempted to cast. Too busy studying when other girls were learning things that now seemed a necessary evil like how to curtsy with a saucer upon one’s head or to sip from a soup spoon and not slurp, or how to
dance
. Serina cursed under her breath as Lucian took her hand and attempted to escort her to the floor. He ended up dragging her, heels scraping against the marble.

“Lucian…” She attempted to backpedal away from the center of the floor.

“Just hold onto me, Serina. I know you are nervous.”

“Nervous? This isn’t nervous. This is petrified. I can’t do this.” She growled, “I’ve never done this!” So many people watched!

“Trust me?”

“Yes. But—but...“

“No buts. Think of dancing as just getting to hold someone you love closely, in front of a hundred or more people watching and just waiting for you to slip up.”

“Lucian! You’re not funny. I always slip up!” She smiled despite her nerves.

“Honestly, just hold onto me and follow me. I’ll go slowly and you’ll look amazing.”

“How did you learn?”

“Raven taught myself and André, but not before we crushed her toes more than a few times.”

“This isn’t so awful,” she mumbled once she settled comfortably into his chest. Serina wrapped her arm around Lucian with nothing short of a death grip and laid her head against his chest. He held her steady and with his other hand swept her around the floor.

Serina held her breath, praying for her equilibrium—just this once—to work.

Lucian talked, occupying her thoughts as they glided across the dance floor. There were only two, possibly three times, she tripped, but Lucian caught her and whisked her around the floor, with no one the wiser. Couples sashayed toward them, and gave their best wishes. A few comments were made to Lucian that he was indeed the luckiest man in London, if not the entire world.