Chapter Seventeen

 

The next day, Serena awoke before dawn to manage the critical correspondence of the day and to redraft a letter to her solicitor. She was determined to leave no loose ends and worked through the morning. Never before had she been so personally tangled in a scheme and Serena knew that nothing blinded faster than emotions. She’d wielded the weapon against others but this time the blade was in her own hands.

Milbank’s masque ball was five days off. It was the social height of the season and word had it everyone who was anyone would be in attendance. Not that they would publicly flaunt their invitations. It was an infamous event for liaisons made and scandals gilt in sin, so naturally no one ever missed it.

It is perfect. Time to fan the flames and ensure that even if Lord Trent has reservations for---

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Come in.”

Quinn entered, and she instantly knew he was displeased. “It is barely ten and far too early for a social call, your ladyship.”

“Who is it, Quinn?”

“The Earl of Trent has presented himself at our doorstep, your ladyship. He has stubbornly refused to leave and insisted that he’ll wait while you…” Quinn had to swallow his distaste before finishing, “get out of bed and dress yourself.”

Serena nodded. Quinn was insulted on her behalf and there was no need to acknowledge the affront. Her skin felt cold but she kept still. “Put him in the first floor sitting room and have him wait there. Ask Albert to stand ready. Alert Pepper that I have a caller and ask Mrs. Holly to see that we have something on hand should the earl require refreshments.”

“Very good, your ladyship.” Quinn retreated to carry out her orders and Serena carefully put away all her papers, refusing to rush.

Damn it. If he kneels on my carpet and declares himself privately, all is lost.

When everything was put away, she stood slowly to survey herself in a mirror on the wall. Her green silk morning dress was pretty enough, but suddenly she wasn’t sure what gown or accessory would be appropriate for Trent’s unexpected call.

As she descended the staircase, she composed her strategy and by the time she crossed the parlor’s threshold, she was set. She left the door open behind her, nodding to Albert to hold his place in the hall where he could discreetly hear all should events take a turn.

“Lord Trent. To what do I owe the dubious honor of a morning call?”

“Why wait to pay a woman compliments? Who determined such a thing had to be held off until well after luncheon?” Geoffrey smiled. “It’s ridiculous if you consider it.”

“I like the formalities that we impose on ourselves, Lord Trent.” She crossed the room, inviting him to take his place on the settee while she selected an armed chair on the opposite side of the arrangement. “But what brings you here? It surely isn’t the clumsy excuse of paying me compliments. Is there news of some kind? Is Sir Tillman well? Has something happened to him?”

Geoffrey scowled as he sat down. “Sir Tillman is an ox and I would hardly make a visit to bring up the boy, now would I?”

Serena stifled the urge to smile. Good. Let’s make sure you’re in no mood for declarations, shall we? “It was an honest guess. You have never failed to bring him up previously, so why would I think this morning would be the exception? Where is he? Paying an early call on another elderly friend?”

“Damn it! You mean to make me jealous with this.”

She blinked as if he’d accused her of flying. “Are you?”

Geoffrey smiled, a wicked knowing thing. “What an awkward gambit, Raven! Come, come. You already revealed your desires to me and I—“

“That is not my name.” She leaned over abruptly and rang a small silver bell on the table. “This is most unseemly. If you’d let me know you were coming, propriety dictates that another party is present when a bachelor calls on an unmarried woman in her home.”

Albert appeared instantly in the doorway. “Your Ladyship?”

Lord Trent’s confusion was palpable. “Do you mean to have me thrown out, Lady Wellcott? Without hearing what I’ve come to say?”

“A note would have been a wiser means to convey your thoughts. I enjoy a man who is as eloquent on the page as he is in person.” She could feel the heat on her cheeks, inspired by memories of Trent’s letter to Phillip so many years before. God knew that no one could imprint parchment with the blackness of their soul more skilfully than the earl. Serena rose from her chair, preparing for his dismissal. “Your rival holds the advantage there.”

Geoffrey mistook the pink in her cheeks for feminine pleasure. “You like notes, do you?” Lord Trent leaned back in his seat, his gaze narrowing. “What was in that message you received at the theatre? Was it from Adam? Or from another man? What rival thinks to insinuate himself between us? I will have all of it. You’ll tell me. You know I will have every detail from your lips.”

“Your Ladyship?” Albert asked again and Serena held up her hand to hold the footman in place.

“I understand it is raining this morning. I do hope you remembered an umbrella, Lord Trent. Thank you so much for calling.” She leaned in to lower her voice as if she feared the footman would overhear. “You are rusty at this, Geoffrey. But here is a detail you can think on until I agree to see you next. If I had ambitions to marry, why would I invite you to ruin my reputation by making uninvited calls to destroy my social chances of achieving that goal? You make a woman ineligible before you’re off the blocks.”

Geoffrey’s eyes widened and he unfolded from the chair. “I see. I see. How very wise and calculating of you, duchess. But let us disregard this small visit as one of a familial nature. Yes? After all, as far as the world is concerned, we are practically family, Lady Wellcott.”

She raised her eyebrows in an arched look of surprise. “I see. And why would a man with familial connections be ranting about like a jealous bantam rooster in my sitting room over my private correspondence? Or is it that you wished to bark disapproval of his attentions? Are you now invoking a parental role, Lord Trent? How utterly confusing!”

“No! I’m—damn it! You are deliberately twisting my words!”

“Good day, Lord Trent.” Serena raised her voice, radiating what authority she could muster but gifted her nemesis with a bone-melting smile to ensure he was as off-balance as a toddler. “I’m afraid I have a busy schedule today and must press on. So kind of you to call.”

Albert took one step forward but it was enough.

“Yes, yes!” Trent sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I should have…brought the Tree.”

“A tree?” Serena asked.

Lord Trent smiled, his humor fully restored. “Never you mind, Lady Wellcott. I will see you out and about, then, and I shall follow the steps of this dance. As you say, I am a bit rusty but not for long. You wish to savor the formalities? Very well. I can see how the illusions might be precious to someone in your situation.”

“Someone in my situation?” she asked.

Geoffrey nodded merrily. “Come, come, Lady Wellcott. You can bustle about and make a show of it all you wish, but at the end of the day, you are alone. What allies would come to your defense if pushed? You, Lady Wellcott, are one pointed finger away from ostracism but do not fear. I won’t betray your secrets and I am happy to play along with whatever game you choose.”

“How generous of you.”

“I’ll make the most of this, duchess. After all, I am yet a man to be reckoned with and I do enjoy winning.” He touched his forehead in salute and then strode out with Albert respectfully but firmly behind him.

She watched his retreat with what she hoped was the right balance between defiance and a woman overwhelmed with longing and excitement at the prospect of an earl’s courtship—just in case the monster turned around for one parting glance.

She held her pose until she heard the front door closed and latched behind him and abandoned the effort immediately. Serena sat down slowly as if fearful that she would shatter and closed her eyes.

The illusions might be precious to someone in my situation, he says? Dear God. Please come quickly, father. It seems you are exactly what is needed to clarify my “situation”.

Pepper spoke softly from the parlor door. “That was a surprise.”

Serena smiled, opening her eyes, came to her feet to leave the room. She refused to display even a hint of weakness, not after yesterday’s fits. “A good lesson that I am not nearly as clever as I thought. But I doubt he’ll call again without ample warning. The storm has passed.”

“Has it? Well, I don’t mind saying I’m relieved to hear it. I swear, Mr. Quinn was readying a full assault team below stairs to burst in to your defense.”

“A comforting notion,” Serena lifted the front edge of her skirts to climb the stairs. “I should get bathed and dressed for that luncheon with Mrs. Marsh. I will want the pearl combs so I hope they are back from the jewelers.”

Pepper followed her. “They were delivered yesterday. Only…”

“Only…what, Prudence?” Serena pivoted on the landing to face her maid.

“I hadn’t seen him before. I—I imagined him so much more…” Pepper sighed. “I nearly expected horns and cloven feet.”

Serena smiled, her eyes watering at her friend’s sweet nature. “What a lovely life it would be, Pepper. But if every wicked creature were forced to wear horns, how in the world will I wear my favorite pearl combs?”