The Temptation of Lady Serena (3 page)

Ferguson, her uncle’s butler, entered to announce that Monsieur Dupont, the dancing master, had arrived.

“Well, my dear,” Ester said, “shall we go?”

Uncle Henry was already in the ballroom when Serena entered with her aunts. Her stomach churned. Monsieur Dupont put her at ease with some country dances she remembered. Soon she forgot her nervousness and began to enjoy herself. Although, when they progressed to the waltz, Serena faltered.

She’d never stood so close to a man to whom she was not related. She blushed hotly, and when Monsieur Dupont placed his hand on her waist, she jumped and looked to her aunts for support.

Aunt Ester was stern. “If you do not learn to waltz, you’ll be branded a provincial.”

Serena swallowed and tried, but in Monsieur Dupont’s arms, her movements were wooden.

“Mademoiselle, perhaps next week you will feel better,” he said. “It is, perhaps, too much for one day.”

“Nonsense.” Aunt Ester tapped her foot. “Henry, take Monsieur’s place.”

Monsieur Dupont bowed and stepped aside.

Uncle Henry took Serena’s hand and whispered, “You’ll be fine. Follow my lead.”

Feeling safer with her uncle, Serena soon forgot her embarrassment.

“You’re doing very well,” he said, grinning.

Aunt Ester nodded. “There now, you see, it is not at all difficult.”

Serena breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s really not as hard as I thought it would be. Monsieur Dupont, may I try it with you now?”

“Dance with Marcus first, then Monsieur Dupont,” Phoebe suggested from the doorway.

Serena agreed. “Very well.”

Marcus danced with her, then Monsieur Dupont; he declared that with a little more practice she would be perfect. He bowed. “Mademoiselle, you are a quick learner. I shall see you next week.”

Aunt Ester smiled at Phoebe. “Who are you here to see, my dear, and did you bring Arthur?”

“Yes, your housekeeper is entertaining him, or rather he is entertaining your housekeeper. I’m not sure which it is. I came to help Serena choose a gown for this evening.”

“Very well, I shall leave you to it.”

Phoebe and Serena went off to her dressing room, and searched through her new gowns.

“Here. This one, I think.” Phoebe held out a pale yellow silk evening gown with a twisted cord of green and gold. “Now you tell me what you’d like to wear with it.”

Serena studied the gown and selected a spangled shawl and a reticule with seed pearls. “I think these will go well. What do you think?”

Giving Serena an enigmatic smile, Phoebe said, “Perfect. Serena, you’ll look lovely. We’ll see you this evening.”

 

Shortly before seven o’clock, Serena entered the drawing room.

Uncle Henry rose to greet her. “Serena, that yellow suits you. You look charming, like a fresh daffodil.”

She curtseyed. “Thank you, Uncle Henry.”

Aunt Ester smiled. “My dear, how do you like your gown?”

“I like it very well indeed. I had no idea my wardrobe would arrive so quickly.”

“Yes, Lisette is very good at delivering what one needs just when one wants them.”

Aunt Catherine took Serena’s hand. “I’ve never seen you in better looks.”

Uncle Henry glanced at her. “Dunwood House is only a few houses down the street. Would you prefer to walk or would you like the carriage?

“I think I shall walk.”

“I’ll send a footman to accompany you.”

Aunt Catherine kissed her cheek. “A whole new life is about to start. Have a wonderful time.”

 

Robert took his hat and cane from Finster, his butler. “I am dining at Dunwood House and shall attend the theater afterward. Send the town coach to meet me there.”

As he turned the corner from Carlos Place onto Grosvenor, an elegantly dressed lady glided down the street on the other side of the square, followed by a footman. There was something familiar about her. As she walked between two houses, the setting sun, hanging low in the sky, set off the dark red curls dancing around her face. It was the lady with the auburn hair. Robert strode rapidly to the opposite side of the square, but when he reached it, she was gone. Why was she always disappearing? Cursing his luck, he continued on to Dunwood House.

P
hoebe greeted Lord and Lady Rutherford as they were announced.

Anna kissed her cheek. “You look as if you have some plan afoot. What’s this about?”

Phoebe told her about Serena and her debut. “I’ve invited Serena to accompany us to the theater. Robert Beaumont will also be coming.”

Rutherford raised a brow. “How did you manage to convince Beaumont to be introduced to her? Hardly his type of lady.”

“Well,” Phoebe said, a little guiltily, “Robert doesn’t exactly know he’ll be meeting her, and she doesn’t know she will be meeting him.”

Rutherford’s expression became severe. “You’re playing a deep game using Beaumont.”

“The very reason I have not told Serena. I would not for the world see her hurt. They will either be attracted to each other or they will not. We shall see.”

Anna perched on a chair. “Phoebe, I like Robert very well as a friend, but his reputation, my dear. He reminds one of a butterfly taking a taste of each flower before moving on.”

Rutherford held a decanter of brandy suspended over a glass. “And how would you know?”

Waving her hand, Anna replied. “Gentlemen are not the only ones to know about certain reputations. I also know he is a favorite with many of the
ton’s
matrons.”

Her husband scowled. “Matrons whose husbands don’t know enough to keep them busy at home.”

Marcus handed Anna a glass of sherry. “Anna, if Serena were a widow, I’d join in your concern. But Robert’s conquests don’t run to gently bred,
unmarried
females.”

Anna looked unconvinced. “I hope you’re correct.”

Serena was announced and Phoebe moved to greet her and introduced Anna and Rutherford.

Marcus asked, “Serena, would you like a glass of sherry? It’s quite good. Or would you prefer a glass of wine?”

“A sherry, please.”

The ladies drew Serena into conversation about the upcoming Season. Marcus and Rutherford spoke in low voices several feet away.

“Phoebe is to be congratulated on her protégée,” Rutherford said. “She’s a beautiful girl. What’s her portion?”

“Substantial.”

Rutherford glanced at Serena. “Yes, I’m quite impressed. You’ll not have any problems marrying her off. If Beaumont doesn’t take the bait, someone else will.”

When the butler announced Robert, he stepped into the room and languidly surveyed the company. He smiled at the Rutherfords, but his attention was arrested by the lady he’d seen walking and on horseback. He had trouble catching his breath and even greater difficulty maintaining his countenance. He cast an experienced eye over her.

The lady wasn’t a young miss. Perhaps she was a widow. She was far lovelier than he’d thought she’d be. Her hair was dressed high, curls dropped and bounced around her shoulders from the loose top knot. One curl caressed her breast. He itched to twist that curl around his finger. Her rosy lips tilted up at the corners. What would it be like to kiss those lips? He intended to find out.

Phoebe took his arm and led him to the woman. “Lady Serena, may I present Robert, Viscount Beaumont.”

Lady Serena? Perhaps she’d been married to an untitled gentleman. He brought his attention back to Phoebe.

“Robert, Lady Serena is my cousin. Her brother is the Earl of Vere. This is Lady Serena’s first time in the metropolis. We’re introducing her to our particular friends as well as all the entertainments London has to offer.”

Brother? Not married or a widow
and
Phoebe’s cousin. Of all the bad luck, this was the worst. She was unavailable, and his senses refused to believe it.

Beaumont bowed over Serena’s hand and held it. “I am enchanted, Lady Serena. I believe I saw you riding in the Park this morning. On a large roan?”

Serena curtseyed. The movement so graceful it was like a dance. “It is my pleasure to meet you, my lord. You are referring to Shamir. Did I not see you riding in Yorkshire? You have a large black gelding, I believe.”

“Yes. His name is Démon.” Robert could scarcely tear his eyes away from her. If he’d had a dream, she was the embodiment of it. Her eyes were an unusual shade of amber fringed by lashes a little darker than her hair.

He frowned slightly, it finally dawned on him what she’d said. “How did you know he was a gelding?”

Robert fought to keep his gaze from dropping to her lips. He wondered how she’d taste and shook himself. He was unlikely to ever find out.

Serena smiled. “I know a great deal about horses, my lord. A gelding is hard to miss.”

Robert’s frown lightened to a humorous smile. “No, not if you know what you’re looking at.” Belatedly, he remembered he’d taken her hand, and brought it to his lips, grazing them across her knuckles.

She blinked slowly. “No, not then.”

Serena had focused on Lord Beaumont the moment he’d entered. He was tall. She only came to the middle of his broad chest. On horseback, he’d reminded her of Ares, the Greek god of war. But that was an illusion. His manner was too refined and his dress too fashionable to hide the soul of a warrior. He bowed so elegantly. A provocative smile played on his well-molded lips, and his voice was deep and silky when he greeted her. Her chest tightened as his eyes, the color of bright moss, caressed her. Her heart skipped as she fought to regain control of her traitorous senses.

She’d been inured in the country for much too long. Even through their gloves, his fingers heated hers, and when his lips touched them, she’d had to remember to breathe. Was this how she would react to every gentleman she met? Or only him?

They dined informally and arrived at the theater in time to partake of champagne prior to the first act. Serena took in the plush velvet hangings and chair coverings, there was gilt everywhere. “Phoebe, I’ve never seen anything so grand!”

Phoebe grinned and squeezed Serena’s shoulder.

The ladies sat in the front of the Dunwood box, leaving the gentlemen to sit behind them. The second-row chairs were just off-center to the seats in the front so that one could easily converse between them.

Phoebe glanced at the pit and spoke quietly to Serena. “Do not look down. There are a number of gentlemen trying to catch your attention. It would not do for you to acknowledge them.”

Suddenly nervous, Serena averted her gaze. “What are they doing?”

Phoebe’s lips tightened. “Some have their quizzing glasses out and others are waving.”

Lord Beaumont took Serena’s arm. “Don’t worry about them.”

Serena felt a little panic, afraid she might do something gauche. “I don’t know where to look, if I cannot look down.”

“Look at me,” Lord Beaumont whispered.

She did and her heart jumped at the warmth in his eyes. “At you?”

“Of course.” After a few moments, he broke his gaze and glanced around, looking slightly disconcerted. “Or at any of our party. Just not to the pit.”

He handed her a glass of champagne. Serena loved how the bubbles tickled as they made their way down her throat.

Everyone seemed to settle down and the curtain on the stage was drawn back.

Once the play began, Serena’s attention fixed on the performance, but Robert couldn’t focus on anything but her.

She seemed so different, so enchantingly naïve for a woman of her age. Her skin was like sweet, warm cream. Small wispy curls gathered on the back of her slender neck. He was so near he could almost feel their softness. He leaned closer to take in her scent. Light, almost lavender, but different. How would she taste?

He pulled back his hand, surprised, he’d almost touched the curls. What the devil was he thinking? He was far too interested and she was an innocent—and Phoebe’s cousin. He had no intention of allowing his affections to be engaged. Not again.

The intermission brought not only their refreshments, but a number of gentleman friends seeking an introduction to Lady Serena. Robert stood off to the side, scowling. They may be some of London’s most eligible marital prizes, but they were making cakes of themselves, flattering her.

She held back now, somewhat shy, but later . . .

A cold sensation washed over him. She’d be spoilt within a week. She’d become the same as all the other females on the catch for a husband.

Finally, the visitors left and the third act began. Despite trying to distract himself by watching the voluptuous Collette, Robert returned his gaze to Serena, to her lovely profile and unfeigned delight. She was captivating.

At the end of the performance, Serena, with innocent joy, said to Phoebe and Marcus. “I don’t know when I’ve laughed so much, or enjoyed anything so well. If I see nothing else of London, the trip will have been worth it just for this. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I am delighted you enjoyed it. That, indeed, is enough for us.” Phoebe glanced at Beaumont. “You’re quiet, Robert. Did you not enjoy the play?”

“Yes, delightful.” His attention was once again drawn to Serena. “More than that, I took pleasure in watching Lady Serena’s delight in it.”

Serena’s eyes widened and she colored prettily, but said nothing.

He took her hand and placed it on his arm to escort her from the box and, though her hand trembled slightly, she moved gracefully beside him. He wanted to put his arm around her waist and draw her close, or bury his face in her hair. But that would cause a scandal. Then again, it might be worth it.

Serena gazed up at him with delight. “I’m glad you joined us this evening. I had such a wonderful time.”

His mouth dried. Her lack of artifice stunned him. “It was my honor.”

At the theater door, he raised her hand to his lips. “Until we meet again.” He softly brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Goodnight, my lady.”

Robert bowed and bid the others a good evening.
The devil,
why had he announced he’d liked watching her? It was the truth, but it wouldn’t do to give Lady Serena any thought of trapping him into marriage. He’d need to be more careful around her. Better yet, he’d leave and stay away from her. His estate in Newmarket should do.

Robert arrived home and startled his senior staff by telling them he planned to leave in the morning.

When Finster ventured to inquire how long his lordship expected to be away, Robert snapped, “As long as it bloody well takes.” Then he stomped off to his room.

 

After escorting Serena home, Phoebe and Marcus were enjoying a brandy with the Rutherfords at Dunwood House.

Phoebe caught Marcus’s eye. “What do you think? Is Robert interested?”

“Sweetheart, it will not be as easy as you think to bring them together. He has spent far too long running away from marriage.”

“But did you see how he looked at her?”

“I did. Much like a wolf discovering a nice soft lamb.”

Phoebe frowned.

“Don’t worry,” Marcus said. “He won’t try to seduce her unless he means to marry her.”

“I don’t want him
seducing
her at all.”

Marcus chuckled. “I think he’s taken with her. More than that, I can’t say.”

Anna regarded Phoebe. “Do you think Serena likes him?”

“I wish I knew. I don’t want to encourage any thoughts she may have until I know how Robert feels.”

Rutherford, who had, until then, been silent, said, “I’ll tell you, if what we saw tonight is any indication of the reception she’ll receive from the
ton,
Beaumont better move quickly, or someone else will snap her up.”

Phoebe smiled proudly. “Serena
was
very well received. Perhaps rivals for her affection will spur Robert on.”

 

Serena stared unseeing into the mirror while Mary combed her hair out. She’d been so unsure of herself at dinner and the theater, but Lord Beaumont’s presence had comforted her. He’d been so kind and attentive, with his quiet manner. She liked the way he kissed her hands, his gaze warm on her. Not at all like the other gentlemen who made flowery compliments and jostled one another, making her feel as if she were on display. Serena would have gladly stood next to Lord Beaumont all evening. If only she could control her breathing and her heart. He was the only one who’d affected her that way. How strange?

Serena climbed into bed and thought of watching him ride. He had such a good seat. He’d turned her way and his wonderful moss-green eyes rested upon her. What did it mean? The effect he had on her breath, and the way her body flushed. Serena threw off the duvet. It really was warmer in London.

 

A few days later, Serena and Phoebe drove around the Park in her high perched phaeton. It was so far off the ground that at first Serena was concerned it would tip. But Phoebe was such a good driver that Serena was soon at ease and able to take a view of the Park and the many people walking and riding. They’d driven about half-way around when two ladies in a landau hailed them.

“Phoebe, who are they?”

“Lady Jersey and Lady Sefton.”

“Oh.” Aunt Catherine had told Serena about them. They were leaders of the
ton
and gatekeepers of that bastion of the Marriage Mart, Almack’s. Lady Jersey was known as “Silence” because she talked constantly.

Lady Jersey greeted them enthusiastically. “My dear Lady Evesham, please introduce us to your . . . cousin—is it not?”

Phoebe performed the introductions. “Lady Serena is St. Eth’s niece. Lady St. Eth and Lady Ware are sponsoring her.”

Lady Jersey regarded Serena for a few moments. “You are Maria’s daughter.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I was so sad to hear of her death. Be assured we will do what we can do to make your Season successful.” Lady Jersey turned to Phoebe. “Have you procured vouchers for Lady Serena yet?”

“No, ma’am, not yet.”

“I shall send them along to St. Eth House.”

Serena and Phoebe thanked her. They bid the other women a good day, and Phoebe moved her phaeton back into the carriage way.