Dangerous to Love (52 page)

“What did you say?” asked Julian.

“We are turning into the square.”

When the carriage pulled up outside Stow House and Julian lightly jumped down, Serena hesitated for one moment then flung herself after him. She couldn’t give up now.

On the pavement, however, she began to have second thoughts. Throngs of people dressed in every shade of the rainbow were milling about. She was in mourning. It
wasn’t seemly for a lady so recently bereaved to attend parties. Besides, she didn’t have an invitation.

“Come along, Victoria,” said Julian. “Oh, did I tell you that you look magnificent in black? Every lady here is going to wish she were in mourning.”

The words electrified her. It was all the encouragement she needed. Flanked by Julian and Flynn, she entered the house. No one challenged her. No one asked to see her card. Her escorts were two of the most celebrated men in London, glamorous figures, gamesters both, touched with danger, wildness, recklessness. In short, her perfect complements.

“Tarnation!” exclaimed Flynn, “ ’Ow a man is supposed to keep ’is balance with these ’ateful smallswords dangling between ’is legs is more than I can comprehend. I could do myself an ’einous injury.” With a little help from Julian, he adjusted the smallsword till it hung at just the right angle.

“You are a pair of lambs in tigers’ clothing, did you know?” said Serena.

Laughing together, they joined the queue which was wending its way to the reception line in the great drawing room. As each guest came up to the majordomo, he beat his ornamental cane on the tiled floor and called out the appropriate name.

When it was Flynn’s turn, the majordomo beat out a fancy tatoo, not unlike one of Serena’s secret codes. He did it to honor one of his own. In his eyes, Flynn’s meteoric rise was a cause for national rejoicing.

“Mr. Richard Flynn,” he called out at the top of his lungs, and just to make sure that no one missed Flynn’s big entrance, he called his name again.

Serena’s eyes rested on Flynn, and she thought him the picture of elegance. His fair hair was tied back by a green velvet ribbon that matched his velvet coat. At his left ear
winked the green emerald, adding a touch of recklessness. She felt her heart swell with pride as he flashed her a smile, sharing this precious moment with her. He had broken the barriers of his class. Nothing could hold him back now. And Julian had made it possible.

It was her turn.

Tell me what to do to make it up to you,
she’d said.

What can you do?

Julian was on the point of giving their names to the majordomo.

“Wait!” she cried out. And suddenly, she knew what to do, knew what Victoria would do if she were in her place. Victoria wasn’t afraid to take risks. Victoria wouldn’t let the man she loved slip away from her under any circumstance. Just thinking like Victoria made her feel that she
was
Victoria.

Looking at Julian with all the love she could muster, which was fathomless, she said slowly and distinctly, “My name is Mrs. Julian Raynor, yes, that’s what it is, Mrs. Julian Raynor.”

A sudden silence gripped the bystanders and they turned to stare. Some raised their eyebrows. There were a few titters.

Before the majordomo could do more than raise his cane, Julian stopped him with a chilling, “No!”

Everything inside Serena shriveled. He didn’t love her, didn’t want her. She had ruined everything and he was going to shame her in front of all these people. She had gambled and lost.

The silence was so long that she was forced to look at Julian, and what she saw in his eyes made her breath catch and her heart contract. Love and joy blazed out at her. No one had ever looked at her in that way before.

“No?” she asked, and her voice was not quite steady.

He put his hand out for hers, and she grasped it. He was trembling almost as badly as she.

“The name is Renney,” said Julian, “not Raynor.”

The majordomo looked to Serena for confirmation. She didn’t see him. She was staring openmouthed at the ring her husband had just slipped on her finger. An emerald as big as a robin’s egg, set in a cluster of amethysts and diamonds, winked up at her. And when she was still in shock, still trying to catch her breath, Julian shocked her even more. Dropping to one knee, he quickly kissed the hem of her gown.

Reading the lady correctly, the majordomo went through the ceremonial ritual. “Mr. Julian Renney,” he called out, “and Mrs. Renney.”

In the great drawing room, Flynn raised his glass of champagne in silent tribute. A moment later, he turned away and became lost in the crush of onlookers.

   She wakened to such a sense of well-being, such a sense of harmony, that she knew this moment in time would be forever locked in her memory as something to cherish. No two people had ever loved like this; there had never been such joy.

It was more than his lovemaking, more than the embraces they had shared when he had taken her to his bed last night. Long into the night, they had talked their hearts out, saying everything that needed to be said.

She would always honor the memory of her father and brother. Though she knew that they would have shown no mercy to Julian, she loved them still. Julian understood this, just as she understood why he had been driven to do what he had done. It seemed incredible that in the midst of so much ugliness, with everything against them, they had been drawn to each other from the very first. As Julian had told her, it was as though the Deity, or the
powers that be, had singled them out for the final consummation of what had been a sad and tragic story. Julian and she were the happy ending, as well as the beginning of something rare and beautiful.

She couldn’t help looking at the ring Julian had given her. Never, in her whole life, had she ever possessed anything so beautiful or costly. It was a ring fit for a queen. She held her hand up to the light and examined the ring from all angles. It was a ring to treasure, not because it was beautiful, not because it was costly, but because it was the symbol of a love that had triumphed against all odds.

“What are you thinking?” Julian’s arms tightened around her, bringing her more securely into the shelter of his body. Though the passion between them always stunned him, he found a different kind of joy in the aftermath of their lovemaking, something sweet and infinitely humbling.

She wrapped one arm around his waist, and exhaled a soft sigh. “I was admiring the ring you gave me.”

He captured her hand, glanced at the ring, then gave her a searching look. “You don’t think it’s a .  .  . um .  .  . tad ostentatious?”

Actually, that thought had occurred to her, but thinking it disloyal, she had crushed it. “Certainly not!” she said, managing to look affronted. “I shall wear your ring with joy and pride.”

He smiled. “I wanted to give you something extraordinary to show how much I love you.”

Her eyes filled with tears. His smile died. “What is
it,
Serena?”

“I almost lost you,” she whispered. “If I had not forced your hand, I would have lost you.”

Laughing, he slapped her on the bare backside and came up and off their bed in one lithe movement. “Not a
chance,” he replied. “Everything worked out exactly as I planned it. Now get dressed, woman. The last thing we want is for some stranger to carry the report of our marriage to your family.” He glanced at the clock on the table by the bed.

“We’re running late, but .  .  .”—he flashed her a salacious grin—”that’s to be expected after the night we shared.” Bending to her, he pressed a quick kiss on her open lips. “My poor love, did I quite wear you out? Never mind. You can sleep in the carriage on the way to Henley. What’s the name of Lord Charles’s place, by the by? I can never remember it.”

“Stanworth,” Serena replied automatically.

As she hauled herself up to a sitting position, he stretched, arms above his head, quite oblivious to his nakedness.

“What do you mean,” said Serena, eyeing him appreciatively, “that everything worked out just as you planned it?”

“Hmm?” He was at the washbasin, pouring a pitcher of cold water into a basin. “You’re here, are you not? You finally acknowledged that you are my wife, not only to me, but publicly.”

He laughed to himself as the recollection of the Stows’ assembly came back to him. He and Serena had caused a sensation. How proud he had been to have her by his side, unquestionably his wife, his woman, as well-wishers had mobbed them. How touched and humbled he had been when the Kirklands had come to stand beside them, adding not only their exalted presence but also making a silent though unmistakable declaration to the world that Serena and he were members of their family. And through it all, Serena had been magnificent—gracious, charming, a warm and vibrant woman, and a great lady. He was the luckiest man in the world.

“Julian?”

He turned to look at her. “Aren’t you up
yet?
Oh, I should have told you. My man should have delivered a pitcher of hot water to the dressing room by now, through that door there.” When she made no move to get out of bed, he added pointedly, “for your convenience, Serena.”

“But .  .  .” She was gazing at her wedding ring in some perplexity.

“But what?”

“It can’t be true!”

He turned to face her. “I assure you, Tibbets would not dare forget my express orders. Through that door you will find everything to make a lady feel more comfortable.”

“Julian!” she said with so much feeling that he looked at her more closely. “Tell me the truth! Did you plan this?” and she held up a hand to display her wedding ring.

The smile left his eyes. Padding back to the bed, he edged down beside her. “Does it matter?” he asked seriously.

“Yes, it matters.”

“Damn! I should have kept my mouth shut! Serena, this is absurd! What difference does it make if I took a hand in things? You love me. I love you. You said so yourself. At last we are together. Don’t spoil things for us, not now.”

“Tell me!”

He took her hands in his, and brought them to his lips. “I sent Lady Amelia to you,” he said quietly. “Flynn did the rest.”

His eyes were wary, unsure. Hers were dazed as enlightenment dawned. With a great shriek of laughter, she suddenly launched herself at him, and Julian let out a relieved breath.

“I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t,” he said.

“There never was any fear of that, my love.” She planted a lingering kiss on his mouth.

“At the same time, I wanted you to come to me willingly. It was a test, if you like, and you passed it with flying colors.”

She shifted slightly to get a better look at his face. “Is that why you kissed the hem of my gown?”

He looked strangely embarrassed. “I did it on impulse, because you surpassed all expectations.” To her unspoken question, he replied, “I was about to give the majordomo our names as Mr. Julian Renney and Mrs. Renney, when you forestalled me. You may imagine how I felt.”

“But Julian! To kiss the hem of my gown! I distinctly remember that you scorned all such romantic gestures!”

Color crept over his cheekbones. “It was an impulse, and one I am not likely to repeat, no, not even if I live to be a hundred. So don’t ask
it
of me.”

“And the ring?” she said softly. “Julian, you must have been very sure of me.”

“Yes,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Flynn .  .  . um .  .  . told me that you kept our marriage certificate in your dresser. Since you had not destroyed it, even after the tragic events at Riverview, I knew there was still hope for me.”

“Flynn told you? I can’t believe Flynn went through my things!”

“He did it as a favor to me.”

Serena was scandalized. Victoria thought it was rather touching, and Victoria carried the day. “That was very naughty,” she said, and smiled.

“There was something else Flynn found that gave me hope.” His eyes were soft with love. “He found my fifty-pound promissory note and a curtain ring.”

“And .  .  . and that gave you hope?”

“I knew you must love me, else why would you treasure them?”

“Treasure them?” She looked at him blankly, then suddenly rolled on the bed and convulsed in whoops of laughter. The harder she laughed, the deeper Julian frowned. The deeper Julian frowned, the harder she laughed.

“I wish you would tell me,” he said, “what I have done to rouse you to such hilarity.”

She tried to answer him, but it was almost impossible for the laughter that kept bubbling over. “That fifty .  .  . pound note? I was saving it .  .  . to stuff up your—”

“Serena!” said Julian sternly.

“—nose! And as for the .  .  . curtain ring, oh dear .  .  . no .  .  .”—she was watching his face—”no, I don’t think I dare tell you what use I was going to make of it. But I shall give you a clue, shall I? I was reserving it for another part of your anatomy. Then your days as a rake would be over.”

He reached for her and administered a playful shake. “Spitfire!”

She came up on her knees and draped her arms around his neck. “Rake!” she said lovingly, and kissed him. When they drew apart, her voice was choked, her eyes were brimming. “I swear, Julian, you will never have to put me to the test again.”

He smiled and wrapped her in a bear hug. “No?”

“No. I love you, Julian Renney, and I am going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.” As an afterthought, she added, “and I hope we both live to be a hundred.”