The Temptation of Lady Serena (6 page)

Lord Waverly returned Serena to her friends and Lord Beaumont claimed her for his second dance, a waltz. She hid a grin when Miss Emerson sighed.

Serena steeled herself to feel Lord Beaumont’s hand on her waist. It didn’t help. She drew in a sharp breath as her heart pounded in her chest and her knees almost gave way. This was far, far worse than with the dancing master.

“Is anything wrong?” Lord Beaumont asked.

“No, no. I’m just not sure I know the steps of the dance well enough,” she lied.

He twirled her down the floor and into the turn. “But you waltz delightfully. Why were you worried?”

“It is my first time waltzing in public. You dance very well, my lord. Though I have only Uncle Henry, Marcus, and the dancing master to compare you to.”

He had only a polite smile on his face. “A leveler. Thank you for your praise, particularly considering my competition.”

Her anxious gaze flew to his. This was not going well at all. “Did I say something wrong?”

His eyes softened. “No, not in the least.” His murmur was deep and his green eyes heated as they had before. “Would I could dance every set with you and keep you in conversation all evening.”

Serena blushed again but did not answer. He was certain to think her some sort of dunce. She needed to think of something to say.

They came to the turn and he drew her a bit closer. Lady Serena was so quiet and had not responded. Had he offended her? Was she even more innocent than he’d thought? His body’s near constant desire faded a bit with his concern that she was unhappy.

For some reason, it was very important that he draw her out and make her smile again. “Oh, no, you must converse, Lady Serena. People will think I’ve said something I shouldn’t have if you blush so delightfully and don’t speak.”

“I am unused to these types of conversations. I thought with you, as you are a friend of my family, I could be more myself.”

Her hand trembled in his, but she gave him a small smile.

There, that was better.

Enjoying her artlessness, Robert grinned. “Then I’m honored you feel you do not have to speak with me.”

He tightened his hand on her waist through the turn, making sure not to hold her as tightly as he wished.

“You are funning with me,” she said in consternation. “I wish you would not do so while I am dancing. I might miss a step.”

Taken aback, he searched for another subject. “You don’t live in Yorkshire. Where do you live?”

She tensed during the last turn. Maybe that was the problem. She was unused to dancing so close to a man.

“I live—I used to live in an old and drafty castle, Vere Castle.” Her smile did not reach her eyes. “It’s in Scotland, almost on the border. You must live very close to my Aunt Ware.”

“Yes, my principal estate is in Yorkshire. Your aunt’s land and mine march together. Of recent years, I’ve remained mostly in London. But I must, of course, visit Yorkshire several times during the year on estate business. We are coming to the next turn, and I shall need to hold you closer.”

She nodded, but still stiffened as his arm drew her in and only eased when he loosened his grip.

“You visit only on estate business? How sad. I found the country to be very beautiful in its own right.”

Well, that was better. He forced himself to relax his hands. “If I had a family, I’d spend more time there. When I was a child, we had parties during Christmas. All the men, even my father, who was a very high stickler, went out to the forest to bring in a Yule log. I remember it burned for months.”

“Oh, yes,” Serena said animatedly. “At the castle, we have a Christmas party for all our dependants, and they help bring in the Yule log. It is my favorite time of year.”

The music ended and he brought them to a stop. Robert leaned in as close as propriety would allow and tried to breathe in her scent. “How did you happen to come to London?”

“My brother returned recently with his new wife, and it was decided I should finally have a London Season.”

He could tell Serena was making an effort to keep her tone light, but pain lingered in her voice, so he changed topics. “Have you been to any of the museums? They have some very interesting exhibits.”

“No, I would love to see them. There’s been no time.”

Robert met her gaze. Those amber eyes haunted his sleep. “Perhaps I may escort you.”

Serena innocently returned his look. “Yes, thank you. I would be delighted.”

“Do you know if you are free to-morrow at two o’clock?” He held his breath—

“Yes, I think I am.”

—and released it. “May I come for you then?”

Serena smiled, her pleasure unfeigned. “How wonderful. I’ll look forward to it.”

Robert was unable to believe she was looking at him with such simple joy. Had a woman ever gazed at him in that manner?

He reluctantly released her hand and bowed, first to her, then to Phoebe and Anna, who’d appeared from nowhere. Not allowed to stand up with her again that night, yet unwilling to either leave the ball or dance with anyone else, he leaned back against a wall with his arms folded and scowled at Serena’s next dance partner, oblivious to the other ladies in their brightly colored plumage.

“Robert, you are making a spectacle of yourself.” Phoebe’s lips were tight. “You cannot dance only with Lady Serena, then stand there staring at her. You will cause just the sort of talk you should be trying to avoid. Find some other lady with whom to partner.”

That was not what he’d planned. “I suppose you’re right. Phoebe, will you dance with me?”

“No, she will not.” Marcus frowned. “You asked for this, now you must play propriety.”

As Robert walked away from them, he glanced around hoping for an escape. He had no desire to dance with anyone other than Lady Serena, but the Dowager Lady Worthington found him and introduced him to a young lady in need of a partner. Hiding his chagrin, Robert prepared to endure the unmitigated torture of young females in their first Season.

At the end of the evening, Robert walked home, annoyed. Other than his two dances with Lady Serena, he’d spent the rest of his evening dancing with several chits, in whom he had no interest. To make it worse, he didn’t understand the depth of his reaction when Lady Serena danced with other gentlemen.

Robert had never minded seeing a woman with whom he was intimate dance with others. Why it should matter with Lady Serena, he could not fathom. He scowled. Nor had his hands burned when he had held another woman, but they did when he’d danced with her. Why had he felt the need to draw her body against his during the waltz? Or drag her away from her dance partners?

If this was love, it was a damned uncomfortable feeling. He lengthened his stride in irritation.

Was it love, or did he just want her? What could he do to end his agony?

E
arly the next morning, Serena, mounted on her horse outside of St. Eth House, was surprised to see Phoebe ride up on Lilly without Marcus.

“Marcus is with Arthur,” she explained. “The baby had another bad night. I cannot tell you how happy I shall be when he has all his teeth.”

They galloped down Rotten Row. The Park always reminded Serena of the country, but to-day, even the trees leafing and the new flowers pushing up in the beds couldn’t distract her from thoughts of Lord Beaumont.

Dropping Shamir to a walk, Serena considered how best to approach Phoebe with her questions. Questions that had kept Serena awake most of the night. In the end, she decided candor was the only way forward. “Phoebe, is there some reason Lord Beaumont was with you last evening and that Marcus and Rutherford gave their dances to him?”

“Robert asked us to help him with you.” Phoebe pulled a face. “Beaumont is in difficult straits. He’s spent years running away from love and marriage only to find he now wants both, and it terrifies him.” Phoebe sighed. “We agreed that he could attend entertainments with us, but only on the proviso that he would not fix his attentions on you until he knew his own mind.”

Serena’s heart somersaulted and her horse tried to pick up his pace in response. Could he really have the same feelings for her that she had for him? Rather breathlessly, she asked, “Do you mean he thinks he might be in love with me?”

Phoebe shrugged in exasperation and reined in Lilly. “I wish I could tell you. Robert only knows that thinking of you makes him walk in circles.”

But what did that mean? Serena wished she knew more about men.

“Serena, how do you feel about him?” Phoebe asked, concerned. “Could you love him? If you cannot, we should end this now.”

Part of her felt buoyant. But her practical Scots common sense made her pause. Serena thought for a few moments, her innate sense of caution guiding her. “I don’t have much experience with gentlemen, but I won’t deny that I’m very interested in him. I have been since the first time we met. He’s charming and good looking.”

Serena slowed Shamir to a walk. “Is Lord Beaumont really a rake?”

“A rake?” Phoebe rode silently for a minute before responding. “Robert is a good friend. I like him very well,” she said. “If he loves his wife, he’ll make an excellent husband and father.”

Phoebe paused for a moment. “I can say with a certainty, he’d never seduce you and leave you. His intent would be marriage. Yet, I am not sure he would see the need to
love
his wife. I am most concerned for you, my dear. I do not wish to see you hurt.”

Phoebe brushed a hand against her forehead. “This is so difficult because I care for you both dearly. Still, I must tell you, I do not think you would be wise to allow him to engage your heart until he is sure of his. Though, how you are to do that, I have no idea.”

Serena felt more vulnerable than she had since she left Vere Castle. If she fell in love with Lord Beaumont, and he didn’t love her as well, she’d be forced to live with the result for the rest of her life. Serena worried her bottom lip. “He’s taking me to a museum this afternoon at two o’clock.”

“Indeed?”
Phoebe said, astonished. “I am quite sure I’ve never heard of Beaumont stepping foot into a museum but, lately, he’s doing many things I never thought he’d do.”

Hope bloomed in Serena’s heart again. If he was making these changes, surely he must have feelings for her. “Phoebe, I don’t know what to do. It’s all so confusing. I have heard he has great address, yet he always seems a little at a loss in conversation with me. People say he is a rake, yet he has not been at all rakish with me. I do not know what to think, and I’m afraid I
will
lose my heart.”

“Considering the moonstruck way he’s behaved lately, I can’t say I am surprised. I’m sorry I cannot advise you more,” Phoebe said uneasily.

Serena glanced up. “Oh, no, here comes Lord Bromley. Can we hide?”

Phoebe laughed. “Bromley is quite harmless.”

“But such a dead bore.” Lord Beaumont’s deep voice came from behind them.

Serena jumped.

Phoebe merely said, “Very true. Good morning, Robert. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I have developed a taste for early morning rides.” He breathed deeply. “The air is so fresh.”

Phoebe seemed to consider him. “Robert, if you can rid us of Lord Bromley, you are welcome to remain, else we must leave.”

A sparkle entered his eyes. “Nothing easier. Bromley has the worst seat in the country. Come, let’s gallop.”

They headed in the other direction, quickly outpacing Lord Bromley before he could hail them.

Robert glanced at Serena. “Show me how fast Shamir is.” With his dare hanging in the air, he took off down the track.

Unable to refuse the challenge, she dashed after him and soon drew ahead, beating him to the turn.

When he finally caught up with her, she asked, “Does that answer your question, my lord?”

She laughed as Shamir pranced around.

Robert frowned, but his eyes were amused. “Devil a bit. Where did you learn to ride like that?”

“My brother and I used to race each other.”

“I didn’t think you’d beat me.”

Serena assumed a haughty mien. “Then, my lord, you should not have issued the challenge.”

His eyes warmed again, and he brought his horse closer. “Vixen, next time I’ll know better.”

Phoebe, who had ridden up behind them, asked, “Serena, would you like to breakfast with us?”

“Yes, thank you. Will François make the croissants I have heard so much about?”

“We shall ask him.” She turned to ride home. “You may come along as well, Robert.”

 

After breakfast, Robert left Dunwood House more confused than ever. He was sure Serena liked him, at least a little, but he couldn’t understand why she threw out no lures to encourage him.

At two o’clock, he waited in the hall at St. Eth House and glanced up to find Lady Serena gracefully descending the stairs in a light brown walking gown, made high on her neck, worn beneath a spencer in a military style.

He raised her hand to his lips and lightly kissed it. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

When he caught her gaze, she smiled, and her face turned a pretty shade of pink. A warm feeling infused him as they continued to stare at each other.

Ferguson coughed pointedly.

Serena blinked. “We should go.”

Robert hadn’t been to the museum since he was a child. Still, he did a credible job of guiding her, and he enjoyed the exhibits almost as much as she did.

They were both attending a ball that evening and as they left the museum, he ventured to ask, “Is your dance card full for the ball?”

“Yes, though two of the places are held by Rutherford and Marcus.” She smiled shyly. “They are both waltzes.”

His chest tightened and his heart raced. “Would you allow them to give up their dances to me?”

Her cheeks flushed. “If you wish it, I would be delighted to dance with you.”

Robert searched her eyes. All he saw was innocent joy and grinned. “Have you had an opportunity to sample Gunter’s ices?”

“No.” She looked entranced. “What a treat that would be.”

“It is entirely my pleasure,” he said, amazed that it was perfectly true. Doing things to make her happy pleased him more each time he was with her. This was trouble, but he couldn’t stop.

 

Lord Huntley and Mr. Featherton watched Beaumont enter Gunter’s with Lady Serena.

Mr. Featherton raised his brows. “Have you ever seen Beaumont escort a lady to Gunter’s?”

“Wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it.”

Featherton rubbed his cheek. “Heard he has started attending balls and other entertainments.”

“Got it from m’sister. Said he’s finally given in to his grandmother’s pressure to marry.”

“I’d like to see the day Beaumont agrees to be leg-shackled,” retorted Huntley skeptically. “And I wouldn’t wish it to be with my sister. He’s deemed a cold fish by any lady he’s involved with, from what I’ve seen.”

Mr. Featherton raised his quizzing glass. “Yet, he’s very popular with the ladies. Heard several of them say so.”

“But Beaumont usually only goes for married ladies or widows. Charms them, gives them a couple of weeks, then moves on. If he’s thinking of marriage, it won’t be for love. I doubt he knows the meaning of the word.”

 

Robert presented himself at St. Eth House the evening of the ball. He was greeted by Lord and Lady St. Eth and Lady Ware before finally reaching Serena.

She smiled. “Lord Beaumont, I’m pleased you could come.”

Robert bowed. “My lady, I would not have missed it.”

She was elegantly dressed in a ball gown of dull gold, over an underskirt of cream embroidered with small gold and green bees, and she seemed even more beautiful than before. He focused on the long thick curl that lay on her bosom and his blood boiled.

When Serena looked at him, he’d wanted to drag her away. Away from all the other guests in the overly crowded ballroom. Away from the lascivious men who imagined, as he did, her naked in their arms. He glanced at her low-cut bodice and almost reached out to tug it up, just a little, to hide the view from the other men. Robert now understood the reason Mohammedans covered their women. But Serena wasn’t his, yet.

Robert restrained himself and claimed his first waltz.

“How are you enjoying your ball?” He held her a little closer than necessary in the turn, not caring who noticed.

“It is wonderful, and the room so beautiful. We were all very busy to-day directing where the decorations would go. I thought we’d never finish in time.”

Robert looked around the room. Mirrors, spaced between the wall panels, enhanced the light from candles set in wall sconces. The room was decorated in a watery blue with greens and yellows. “Yes, you’ve done well.”

Serena colored. “Thank you, but it was Aunt Ester’s idea. Other than trim at Christmas with greenery, I’d never done anything like it before. This was much more exciting. We didn’t entertain at Vere Castle.”

“Never?” Robert didn’t understand why. Most ladies he knew lived for balls.

“No, my parents were very ill before they died, and my brother was gone for so many years. Of course, we always had the normal fetes for the workers and the small village, but nothing like a ball.”

“You must make up for your isolation now and indulge in all the
ton
has to offer.”

Serena’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, particularly this evening. My aunts have gone to so much trouble for me.”

When the waltz ended, he led Serena back to Lady St. Eth, where her hand was immediately claimed by her next dance partner. Robert tried not to scowl as she went off on another man’s arm.

Once again chastised for standing against the wall glaring—this time by Freddy—he allowed himself to be presented to more young ladies in need of dance partners. Robert bowed and smiled, but their simpering adoration left him disgusted. He’d been out of the Marriage Mart for over ten years, nothing had changed.

Thankfully, he’d had the forethought to arrange to take Serena for a drive the next afternoon. He left after their second set, before he savaged the next gentleman who danced with her or kissed her fingers. What he wanted to do was spirit her out of the room and into his arms. Better yet, throw her over his shoulder and take her home. Maybe then, she and everyone else would understand that Lady Serena Weir was his.

 

Later that evening, as Mary prepared Serena for bed, she relived her waltzes with Lord Beaumont. When his hand had circled her waist, she’d been tempted to close her eyes and lean against him. The pressure of his fingers sent shivers through her and her knees weakened.

After their first dance, he’d once again lounged against a wall staring at her. Serena had tried not to look, but she had felt his heated gaze, compelling her to glance at him. She’d missed most of what her dance partner had said and just smiled, hoping to cover her distraction.

When the movement of the dance brought her around, Lord Beaumont had gone and her heart plunged to her slippers. During the next set, Serena had seen him dancing with a young lady and, for the first time in Serena’s life, jealousy took over. She’d wanted to stop the woman from touching him. It was silly and uncharitable, but Serena couldn’t stop herself. She’d tried to focus on the dance, but her gaze strayed whenever Lord Beaumont came into view.

Finally, it was time for his second waltz with her, and her body hummed, waiting for his touch. Then it was there, his hand strong and firm on her waist. Serena’s heart had pounded and, although she calmed herself before glancing up at him, she was almost undone by the look in his eyes.

Even with her limited experience, his desire was evident. He’d held her even closer than before. But Serena hadn’t been sure if it was because the floor was so crowded or he’d wanted to. All she’d known was she hadn’t wanted the waltz to end.

She remembered the way his hand gripped hers and his fingers moved on her back, creating tiny fires and sending delightful shivers through her body. When she’d glanced up, he’d gazed at her as if he wanted to devour her.

Serena wondered what it would be like if Lord Beaumont held her close and kissed her. What it would be like to touch his strong face and run her fingers through his blond curls.

Her maid’s voice intruded on her thoughts. Serena tried to focus, very glad Mary couldn’t read minds. “I’m sorry, Mary. What did you say?”

“Just that you must have had a very good time. You’ve been woolgathering since you got back.”

“Yes.” Serena stood. “I had a very pleasant evening.”