Chapter Thirteen

Serena joined Geoffrey in the studio wearing a dress of ivory embroidered wool. The color enhanced her skin. The lapel framed her bosom in the popular style. Her pelisse of taupe colored wool wrapped around her and begged notice of her curves.

Lord Geoffrey watched as she tied the strings of her bonnet, entwined with blossoms and pearls. “Clothed or not, you always look seductive, Serena.” He winked. “This afternoon, you have the glow of a woman who has been well loved.”

“I might say the same of you, your Grace.”

Geoffrey guided Serena outside and into the phaeton. He made sure she covered herself with the lap blanket, and picked up the reins. They rode in silence to the manor house. A footman awaited them on the steps. Geoffrey stopped, and the servant assisted Serena as she stepped out of the conveyance.

The chatter of the ladies in the drawing room oozed out the open front door. There was excitement about the jaunt to the village.

Her brother appeared relaxed. “There you are, Serena,” Henry called. “You look well. Come in. I’ve decided to take the large coach and we all can ride together. The rest of the afternoon is ours to do as we please in the village. I told Miss Arabella she and the other ladies will enjoy the teahouse. Some of the best Ceylon varieties are offered.”

“My favorite is British tea made from the buds of elder, hawthorn, and ash,” Serena replied with a smile. “I think the ladies will like the teahouse. Some of the best East India Tea Company varieties are offered.”

Even with her pelisse, Serena was chilled—yet scant moments ago, naked as a starling, Geoffrey set her on fire. Her cheeks warmed at the memory.

Geoffrey entered the room. “Henry, the carriage waits. Shall we depart?” He went to Serena and offered his arm. “Allow me to assist you, my lady.”

“Thank you.” She followed him and the others to her brother’s oversized carriage, but even so, the quarters were cramped. Pleasant conversation ensued during the ride. Henry listened to Miss Arabella’s every word. Serena and Geoffrey exchanged a glance, nodding their approval.

Upon arrival at the village, the coach left them on the main street.

“Henry, your idea to show your guests our pastoral scene has pleased everyone.”

“In truth, Serena, Lord Geoffrey indicated he would like to visit the pub. He mentioned there are always stories by the old men that fascinate.”

Henry glowed. “I thought a trip including everyone would be a nice retreat. You lovely ladies can indulge in sampling the teas and the men can exchange war stories.”

Each group went in separate directions.

Serena took the lead as they entered the Tea Shoppe. “The sweetest confections are here, but our Mrs. Partridge makes the best pasties this side of the pond. Is that not so?”

“My lady, you jest, but I’ll confess they are good. May I bring a selection?”

“Yes. These ladies are my guests and I desire to acquaint them with the delights of our countryside, so of course, we came to you.”

“You are a flatterer, but thank you, Lady Serena. We are glad to welcome all of you.”

“Perhaps two or three pots of your imported teas for the ladies to sample?” Serena requested.

“Of course, milady. I’ve just made some meringues and will bring them out too.”

Serena scanned the room and noted shelves in the Gift Section that featured fancy figurines. “Excuse me, ladies. I see some porcelain pieces and would like to look at them more closely. Would any of you care to join me?” She rose from her chair. The other ladies chose to remain at their table and chatter.

Mrs. Partridge brought out the selection of teas while waiting for the meringues. The women were anxious to sample the expensive varieties of teas. She brought out the tea caddies and unlocked them, and explained each one in detail.

Serena walked toward the ceramics and saw a bride and groom topper for a wedding cake. It looked familiar. She had no idea what happened to the one on her own wedding cake when she married Trystan. Almost afraid to touch, she hesitated. Painful memories assailed her. Everyone told her she was a beautiful bride so fortunate to have found a good and loving man. Her happiness on that eventful day lasted until they retired to their suite.

Hah. Was that ever a canard?

She dizzied at the thought, her hands shook and her head swam. Serena steadied herself on the cabinet door.

She prayed she wouldn’t swoon and asked for strength. Her past no longer existed. Now she had Geoffrey—but did she, really? Was she once again a fool lured by the skills of a rake?

She reached out, but couldn’t bring herself to touch the wedding topper.

After her husband’s death, Henry didn’t seem surprised at the event and circumstances of the duel. When she confessed the horrific details to her Aunt Meredith, the generous woman endowed her with a significant trust. A shrewd London lawyer devised the income so it just skirted the law. Serena could be independent. Without Henry’s knowledge or permission, Aunt Meredith also purchased the small manor house next to Henry’s property outright in Serena’s name in perpetuity. Her advice to Serena was clear, “Use this solicitor if ever you are in trouble again. He is a cunning man and will advise you. Heed his counsel, and do not let any man harm you again, Serena. Keep your heart in check.”

In fact, Serena was not only an heiress, but a wealthy woman. She never made Henry aware of the legal fact, a basic instinct warned her to say nothing to her brother.

She returned to where the ladies sat. Lady Winston asked, “Did you have happy memories looking at the wedding fancies?”

“It is difficult to review the past and not have memories. How are the teas? I have been told that the more expensive teas are Hyson and Congo. They usually are mixed with less expensive varieties like Common Bohea or Common Green tea leaves.”

Miss Arabella asked, “Lady Serena, how is it that you are so knowledgeable about teas?”

“As head of my late husband’s household,” she prevaricated, “we did entertain. I spent a good deal of my time seeking out the best beverages. One had to be so careful of tea adulteration, since the commodity was expensive and highly taxed.”

She poured a cup of Ceylon tea for herself. “I have heard there is an elegant tea vendor in London who specializes in exotic teas. One day I would like to visit such an establishment.”

Anything to get her mind away from Trystan and his evil ways.

The men in the pub were regaled with stories of the wars in Belgium and France. Geoffrey held a keen interest in a story told by a former infantryman about the dangers of depending on allied troops. “Nothin’ was wot it seemed. Can’t trust ’em. I’m lucky to be ’live.”

Despite the lively tales of adventure and heroism, Geoffrey found his mind wandering.

“Shall we drink up, gentlemen, and go check on the ladies?”

The men went round to the Tea Shoppe to fetch the women, and soon they went for a walk along a small promenade. Henry showed them the small lake filled with ducks and swans. They sat on park benches and conversed, pairing off into couples.

“Something troubles you,” Geoffrey whispered to Serena. “Will you tell me?”

“What is to say? Our time together this afternoon sped away. This is your last night and tomorrow you will be gone. I cannot possibly have your portrait ready in oil. I am sorry.”

The portrait be damned. It was his absence she wasn’t prepared to endure.

Geoffrey’s words came from his heart without forethought. “The portrait is not the greatest importance. You are. Would you allow me to come to you tonight? Can you forego the lake swim so we can have more precious moments in each other’s arms?”

“Yes, Geoffrey. It will be my last memory of you before we say goodbye.”

“Serena, come away with me. Life can be glorious if we are together.”

“I have no doubt about that, but to go with you would spoil what we’ve shared. I shall travel the countryside alone in an effort to forget you. Although I hold little hope of success at that prospect.” She fidgeted with her beaded reticule, opened the latch and closed it a few times.

“Serena, do not give up on us. It can happen.”

“I cannot disgrace myself or my family by running away with a rake. My liaison, publicly, must be honorable. Please do not make this difficult. We will have this evening together, pretend to be who we are not. I believe we are bound by all we have shared. I thank God for all the wondrous memories even if we are apart.” Her hand went to her eye to stop a tear.

Henry’s voice boomed, “Come. Come, everyone, time to depart.” Henry waved to his guests.

“My lady, do not be glum.” Geoffrey extended his arm.

She accepted, and they walked to where the carriage awaited them.

Her dress of ivory-colored wool with insets of velvet shimmered when she moved. The under-slip protected her modesty. He thought he would like to see her in that same dress without the sheath. What a vision he conjured. A feast for his hungry eyes.

Damnation, what licentious demon had invaded him?

Soon they arrived at the manor house and spilled into the drawing room.

He walked to the pianoforte and one finger touched a key. Geoffrey turned to see her eyes upon him. He smiled and played another few keys. She invaded his every thought. He vowed he would get over this affair as he always did, once he could not look upon her. Yet, her sensuality and innocence had been a dichotomy that challenged him.

He looked in her direction again and dark eyes haunted him.

She came to him. “Geoffrey, you seem deep in thought. Is something wrong?”

“The word deep conjures seductive thoughts,” he whispered, “I want to be deep inside you. I am anxious to share your bed.” Amid the chatter and laughter, no one paid any attention to them.

“We might be overheard.” She looked over her shoulder.

He rose and took her arm. “Come let us stroll to the balcony. To be blunt, I burn for you.” Geoffrey took her arm and they went through the French doors to the balustrade.

“I look at you and I lust with desire.”

“My lord Duke, never have I met a man who can seduce with mere words.”

“I am glad to hear this. I would not like to think other men could have such an effect on you.” He clutched the cold balcony rail with his hands. “Do I sound like a jealous man?”

“You sound like a man who needs a distraction.”

“You are correct. It is what you have become.” He leaned closer, his voice low and hoarse. “That and so much more.”

“Have I graduated to a higher level?” She tried to harness her depth of loss and sound humorous—it did not work.

“Perhaps what I feel has no name.” He lowered his head.

Liar. Tell her, name it. Tell her what she wants to hear, you fool.

“Shall we go?” Geoffrey held her gaze.

“Yes. Perhaps it is time. I will make my exit now. I’ll wait for you to come to me, Geoffrey.” Serena went to her brother. “Henry, it’s been a long day. I am fatigued and wish to bid you good night.” She made her farewell to all the guests and left.

Geoffrey followed. “Would you like me to see you home?”

“That is not necessary, my lord Duke, the attendant will take me.”

At her studio house, Serena climbed the stairs and Emma followed. She undressed and asked the maid to get her the nightgown she purchased from the French modiste’s shop on a recent trip to London. “Do you think he will like this?” she asked Emma. Serena twirled around. It covered her back but the front revealed her curves.

“I think he won’t be able to resist you. You look happy, mistress.”

“I am, but sad, too. He leaves tomorrow. Say a prayer for me tonight, Emma. It will hurt to lose him. All the light in my life will be gone.”

“I’ll take the puppy to my quarters, my lady. He can keep me company.”

“Thank you, dear Emma.” The maid curtsied and left the room with the dog.

In the quiet of the moment, Serena reflected on Geoffrey’s words. He couldn’t name what he felt for her. She hoped it could be love, for with love all things were possible. Could it be so?

The guests at the manor retired to their rooms. Henry checked his watch. “Come, Geoffrey, join me in a brandy.”

“Of course, Henry, my pleasure.” Drink was the last thing on his mind, but he needed to appease Henry’s suspicious nature.

The minutes expanded to an hour. Geoffrey twisted in his chair. Would Serena tire of waiting for him to come? Finally, Henry yawned and bid his guest goodnight.

Geoffrey made a pretense of going to his room, but he stood in the darkness of the corridor until it was safe to exit the house. He ran the distance to Serena’s studio. Breathless, he stood at her veranda. No light shone in the house nor her bedroom window.

God’s blood. She’d given up on him.