Chapter Nineteen

Serena received a summons from her brother to attend him at dinner. The mantel clock neared seven. She’d need to hurry.

“Henry has sent me a last minute request. I wonder who he entertains. Emma, is my royal purple dress clean?”

“I’ve not heard any talk of a visitor, mistress. The gown you seek is in the wardrobe.” Emma laid the dress on the bed. “How shall I fix your hair?”

“The dress calls for it to be swept up. See what you can do to tame my curls.”

The maid worked with deft hands and combed Serena’s hair in place with two jeweled barrettes. With a kohl pencil, Serena etched her eyes and then rouged her cheeks. She applied the dark pink lip pomade and pressed both lips together.

Emma helped her into the dress and secured the lavender necklace around Serena’s neck. From the jewelry box, she selected matching earrings and handed them to her mistress.

“You look beautiful.” The maid gave Serena her gloves and reticule. “I hear hoof beats. The phaeton is here to take you.”

Emma descended the stairs ahead of her lady and held the door. The footman assisted Serena into the carriage and drove the short distance to the manor house. She entered the home and went directly to the drawing room.

Her brother greeted her, and a gentleman who stood near the fireplace turned her way as well. “You remember Lord Leland LeBran, Serena?”

She curtsied to him, and he nodded.

Lord LeBran inspected her with his eyes and quizzing glass. “That color suits you, Lady Serena.”

His words caused her flesh to chill. His tone unsettled her, while his eyes laid her bare as if he examined a prized steer. Why was she here? This man frightened her with his ominous presence. There were no other guests. Henry knew she disliked this man. Things did not bode well for her.

She thanked Lord LeBran and sat on the settee. “The last time we met, my lord, you were saddened at your wife’s funeral. I do hope you have recovered from your grief.”

“Yes. I am prepared to move on. Thank you for your inquiry.”

“Serena, Lord LeBran is to stay with me for a day or two. We have personal and business matters to discuss.”

The butler came and announced dinner.

Lord LeBran extended his arm to accompany her, she instead grasped Henry’s sleeve. LeBran’s eyes flashed then narrowed at the intended insult.

She sat at the table next to Henry and across from his lordship. Her wine goblet held red wine, not her favorite since she preferred the white vintage, fruity and sweet.

“Henry, are the cellars devoid of white wine? You know it is my preference.” She smiled. Her request would perturb her brother, which was her intention. “If you had advised me of this visit, I would have seen that all was in order.”

Henry called for the servant to provide Serena with her wine of choice.

“Lord LeBran, do you like to hunt?” she asked, to break the cold silence.

“No, although my estate is large enough. However, we have a preserve where the red deer, doe and bucks, are protected. “

“Where is your home?” Serena set the wine glass aside making room for her favorite when the servant arrived.

“It is near Southsea Castle. The Forteresse de LeBran is centuries old. It can be formidable, but once accustomed to its vastness, it is comfortable.”

“Do you live alone, Lord LeBran?”

“My sons are married and live with their families to the east. My mother and sister reside with me.” His voice held no emotion.

“There is nothing like family to depend upon.” Serena held her brother’s eyes. “Isn’t that so, dear brother?”

“Haven’t I always looked after your best interests, Serena?”

“So you have claimed.” She smoothed the fabric of her dress with her hands. Ignoring his gaze, she continued on with her attempt to embarrass. “Henry, how are you and Lord LeBran acquainted?”

“We met in Parliament ten or twelve years ago. Our bond became stronger when we realized our goals were mutual. We usually stand together on issues.”

Supper was served and tolerated with a minimum of conversation from Serena.

When over, Serena spoke, “Perhaps you would prefer to converse over brandy and cigars now that we are finished dining? The hour grows late and I should like to retire.” She rose to leave.

“No, Serena,” Henry stated. “I know you like cognac. Join us for a few more moments.”

Her heart raced. Damn Henry, he was manipulating her. They walked to the library and he poured drinks for them.

“Tell me, Lady Serena, what do you do for enjoyment? Your brother tells me you are a talented artist.” LeBran swirled his brandy.

“My brother tends to flatter. I do love to paint and play the pianoforte.” She took a long healthy sip from her crystal glass.

“I enjoy music. Perhaps tomorrow you will play?” Lord LeBran’s tone remained detached.

She took measure of the tall portly man. He was much older than she; there was nothing attractive about the gentleman. His voice was firm and his demeanor withdrawn, Lord LeBran appeared bored with the goings on, yet there must be a specific reason he’d been invited.

Serena looked to Henry for rescue. It did not occur.

“Sister, we will retire to the drawing room. You can play a signature piece. Wagner’s Toccato in Fugue in D Minor is my favorite.”

“If you insist.” She walked with them down the mahogany paneled corridor and saw a sinister smile cross Henry’s face. What game was he playing with her as the pawn?

Serena sat on the bench, straightened her skirt and began to play. Her fingers ran through the musical piece and after the last stanza, she slammed down the piano cover.

Henry stood over her, a disapproving eyebrow raised.

“Do you like the opera?” Lord LeBran asked, as if he noticed nothing. He motioned Serena to sit on the settee next to him.

She walked like a wary feline to the opposite side of the sofa. “In the country as we are, it is difficult to see many of the operas I prefer, but when in London, I take advantage of the varied opportunities.”

“Such as?” LeBran inquired.

“Pagliacci is a favorite. I do enjoy Puccini’s Madama Butterfly and its sad story, and La Traviata. There is a long list.”

He took out his quizzing glass and placed it to his eye.

“Is there something amiss with your eyesight, Lord LeBran, that requires the use of your monocle?”

“No, it is a habit of mine.” He removed it and returned the item to his pocket, a stern expression on his face. “I prefer the French operas over the Italian ones. Debussy, Ravel and Bizet come to mind. The music is more to my taste.” Lord LeBran spoke in candor.

“I am told the Italian language is lyrical, flowery and melts off the lips.” Serena remembered Geoffrey’s comment to her after they’d made love. She wanted to be home with Emma and Adonis. Please let this night end soon.

She could care less what he liked to eat and drink. “Had my brother known you favored ale, I am sure he would have offered it to you during supper.”

“If you heard me correctly, I said I preferred ale. However, wine is not disagreeable.” LeBran’s eyes rolled upward.

Lord LeBran paused, and then rose, walked toward the fireplace. He stood posed, his arm rested on the mantel, reminding Serena of a statue, old, rusted and chipped.

“I find that I have a requirement to seek a new life partner. As a Member of Parliament, there are many times when a wife could be of political assistance. My family is centuries old with years of service to Britain. My mourning period is over. I am ready to re-enter the social scene.”

Lord, help her. It occurred to her that he was in search of a wife.

“When you meet my mother and sister, I am sure you will find them most agreeable. I do confess my routine hardly changes. I do not ride unless it is a necessity. I am a stickler for dining on time. My preference is for beef over lamb and I do enjoy fine ale.”

“Is your family to visit us?”

Lord LeBran glanced at Henry.

“It is a distinct possibility,” her brother replied. “Lord LeBran thinks to invite us to his estate for a wedding. We shall discuss the details later, sister. I know you are tired. I will have the driver take you home.”

“Thank you.” She did not kiss her brother. “Good night to you both.” She curtsied.

“Breakfast tomorrow at eight, Serena?”

Another command.

“Shall I send the phaeton?”

“No. Henry, I will ride over on Sheba. I have neglected her.”

Both men looked at each other, disapproval clear in their expressions.

She curtsied, left the room and went to the foyer where the butler preceded her to the door.

Every nerve in her body wanted to scream. Her brother was up to no good, and she was the prize in what he conspired.

Do not panic, Serena. Tomorrow at breakfast, she would make it clear, her life was her own and she was not chattel to be bartered.

It was imperative she seek her barrister—the sooner the better.