Love Redeemed (11 page)

Lady Thornton perused her as though she could peel back the layers of skin and bone and see deep within. “Do you love him? Do you love my brother?”

Indecision gripped Serena, would she be appalled to know the truth? “God forgive me, yes. I do love him, and if he does not cease this onslaught, I will have no ability to refuse him. My heart breaks anew every time I send him away.”

“Then don’t.” Lady Thornton calmly sipped her tea then took a delicate nibble of a scone.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t refuse him. It is clear he loves you. Enough he has refused to acknowledge my guidance, and he has entirely restructured his business. He has acquired customers who have no interest in who he spends his nights with, so his business will recover before any lasting damage is done.”

Thunderstruck, Serena gaped at the serene lady across from her. Her heart pounded as the blood rushed to her head. Spots formed before her eyes, so she drew a deep breath and blinked. “But I’m a whore! You said it yourself, Lady Thornton. He has no business marrying someone like me.”

“Pish. I was being a ridiculous, closed-minded prude. It is unfortunate I tend in that direction more often than not. But, having seen how happy my brother was with you and how miserable he is without, I am left to conclude he is better off with you in his life irrespective of your past. I have known enough women like you to know they are often strong of character, ethical, and most important they are survivors. Brennan needs someone like that in his life. I want my brother to be as happy as I, and you seem to make that happen.”

“You are wrong, Lady Thornton. I am terrible for Brennan. I will ruin his life. I am sorry if I bothered you. Good day.” Stiff with shock and despair, she rose and exited the house as if she strolled through grand homes of the nobility every day. She was doomed. She would make one last effort to dissuade him, and if she failed she would speak to Madame and see about leaving England. Nothing else she could see would stop the persistent man.

The previous day’s drive in Hyde Park had been uneventful. Today, Brennan intended to take Melanie shopping on Bond Street where he met Serena. With any luck she would see him, and once Andrew stopped by The Market that evening, would be goaded into appearing at his door. He placed his hat atop his head and clambered up into his phaeton.

An hour later, he walked into a milliner’s shop with Melanie on Bond Street when a flash of auburn hair caught his eye. He looked again but could not spot her, despite his certainty he had seen her. The increased thump of his heart told him she must be near.

Melanie tried on a few hats before settling on a lovely light green
chapeau
she declared would best match one of her riding dresses. She handed it to him to carry for her, and they left the shop. Next stop, her dressmaker’s where she was due for a fitting. Brennan found himself sitting in the shop and waiting on her when he spied another glimpse of red hair through the window. All proceeded according to plan.

***

Serena dragged Miranda past the modiste’s after seeing Brennan waltz down the street carrying a box for the pretty little blond chit he strolled with.

“Damn him! How dare he ask me to marry him and then not two weeks later be out on Bond Street shopping with some chit barely out of the school room!” Her blood drummed in her veins and battered against her temples. This was a drastic improvement from the melancholy she had wallowed in since leaving Lady Thornton’s the day before.

“Well, you did say no and run off. What else did you expect the poor man to do? Moon after you forever?” Miranda shrugged and towed her past the window.

“No, but I—well, I simply didn’t expect to see him with someone.” Serena stomped down the sidewalk brushing past people oblivious to the ruckus she caused.

“Do you love him?” Miranda’s tart question drew Serena up short. Damn everyone to perdition. Why must people insist on asking that blasted question?

She whirled around to face her friend. “I do, which is why I said no.” Serena’s heart twisted inside her chest.

“Does he love you?” Miranda’s arms were crossed over her chest as she stood blocking the walkway.

“Yes. He has said as much.” Serena stared at the ground.

“Then why did you say no?” Miranda queried as her exasperation became evident.

“I was scared and reasoned I was protecting myself, and him, at the time. I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love. Madame has always warned us about mistaking lust for love in our profession. When I learned he lost business because of our association, I couldn’t allow that to continue.” Serena shrugged and turned back toward The Market, which meant passing the modiste’s window again.

“I know it seemed the right thing at the time, dearest. But perhaps you should consider fighting for him?” Miranda linked arms with her, and they strolled down the path.

“How could I ruin his life by letting him marry me?” Serena was near to tears again as she pondered the same question she had asked herself every hour since he proposed.

“Serena, he is an adult. He asked you to marry him. Don’t you think you should let the man make up his own mind what is or is not best for him? It is clear he thinks you are.”

“But his family.” Serena slowed as they approached the shop.

“Is no longer a problem by your account of your visit with Lady Thornton yesterday.” Miranda smiled encouragingly. “Don’t let a chance at happily ever after slip through your fingers. Women like us don’t get those opportunities very often.”

They started past the shop as Brennan and the golden chit walked out. Serena’s heart rose up clogging her throat when her gaze clashed with his. He tipped his hat and nodded. “Miss Freemont.” Next, he nodded at Miranda.

“Mr. Whitling.” Serena inclined her head and walked past the happy couple grinding her teeth. Three shops down she glanced at Miranda to see a knowing smirk. “What is running through that head of yours?”

“Not a thing.” Miranda’s face looked innocent.

“I doubt that. However, I do believe I may need to reconsider my decision to run away. It makes me sick to see that woman on his arm. He’s mine.” After uttering the words, the truth of them sank in and wrapped around her heart. He belonged to her, and she to him.

“I am very glad to hear that. What do you plan to do about it?” Miranda pulled her down the street.

“I do not know. Yet.” Serena tilted her chin up and marched down the street, confident something would come to her.

***

That night, Serena sat down in the salon acting as hostess for Madame Marchander. Though technically her night off, sitting in her rooms alone had become cloying and uncomfortable. She lounged on a settee chatting with the masked Earl of Cornwall when a familiar presence entered the room. Despite the mask he wore, she knew him to be Brennan’s friend by his easy manner, dark good looks, and deep voice. Only half listening to the earl, she tracked Andrew’s path across the room. He disappeared somewhere behind her.

The Earl continued talking about his horses when she heard Brennan’s name from over her shoulder.

“Good evening, Johnston. Where is Whitling this evening?” a gregarious baritone intoned.

“He is at home entertaining a certain lady friend of his. In private,” Andrew replied.

Serena’s whole body went stiff with anger. Entertaining at home? In private. “Excuse me, my lord. I must check on one of our guests.” Serena rose from the couch and restrained herself from running out of the salon. She arrived in the foyer and found the doorman.

“Fetch me a hack. I shall return in a moment.” Serena dashed upstairs to grab her cloak and bonnet and bumped into Celeste, one of the other girls who acted as hostess for Madame.

“Celeste, I must run out on an urgent errand. Could you stand as hostess for the evening?”

“Certainly, Serena. Is something wrong?”

“No, just a matter which cannot wait. Thank you.”

Within a few minutes she settled into the vehicle barreling toward Brennan’s townhouse. As they came to a stop she rushed from the carriage without waiting for help. She flew up the steps of his home and tried the door, the handle rotated unimpeded in a smooth arc and pushed inward.

Serena closed the door behind her and looked around. The whole downstairs lay dark and looked uninhabited, as though the staff were off for the night. The idea they were in the bedroom struck her with the force of a punch to the gut.
Mine
, rang through her head in time with each step she took up the stairs. At the top, she turned down the hallway and found his door cracked with a strip of light limning it.

She rushed ahead and banged through the door into his candlelit bedroom. He sat in a chair by the bed, reading and wearing a robe over his trousers. He glanced up at the sudden noise and looked, not surprised to see her. Confusion swirled, but her anger and jealousy still reigned. “Where is she?”

“Who?” He closed the book and set it down.

“That blond chit I saw you with. I know she is here.” Serena marched over to his dressing room and opened the door. Nothing. She stomped back into the bedroom and over to the neat and tidy bed.

“What makes you think I have a woman here?” A smirk lurked in his eyes.

Unconvinced, she knelt down and looked under the bed. “I saw you with her today, and then your friend came into The Market. He said you were here, entertaining her in private.” Serena’s anger surged again as she got to her feet. She stalked up to Brennan and slapped him across the face.

The crack of skin on skin reverberated through the empty bedroom. The red imprint of her hand blazed an outline on his smooth cheek. She fisted her hand and brought it to her mouth as it dawned on her what she had let her anger drive her to do.

“I told you there was no woman here.” He appeared angry but not as angry as he should be. He rubbed his pink cheek and stared.

“I heard your friend, why would he lie?” Serena retreated and dropped her fist to her side.

Brennan’s irritation morphed into sheepishness. “Because I asked him to.”

“What do you mean, you asked him to?” She glared at him, no longer feeling sorry about the slap.

“You ran off and refused to see me. I could not figure out how to convince you I wanted to marry you.” Brennan shrugged.

“The blonde girl from today, who is she?”

“Andrew’s sister. She agreed to help me in the name of love.” A small smile hovered on his lips.

“Love? She’s in love with you and you used her to try and trap me? This gets richer and richer!” Serena paced without ever having made a conscious decision to do so.

“No! She agreed to do it because she knows I love you, and I was miserable when you left.” Brennan took a step forward interrupting Serena’s path.

She glanced up and saw the sincerity in his gaze. He let her see the pain he bore in her absence, and it wrenched her heart anew. “I missed you, too. I was miserable when I left and furious when I saw you two today. I wanted to scratch her eyes out and shred her pretty golden locks because you, Brennan Whitling, are mine.” Serena’s words tripped out over each other she spoke so fast. Then, without warning, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. A possessive instinct pummeled the last shred of her resistance. Dear God, she loved him and he would be hers. No more denial, no more pushing him away. He chose her, against all the odds, he saw in her someone worthy of redemption. Who was she to argue?

She slid her tongue past his teeth and over the velvety softness of his tongue. He moaned as his arms surrounded and crushed her body to his. He took control of the kiss, searing her, branding her with his mouth. She skimmed her hands inside his robe to find deliciously bare skin. Shoving it back off his shoulders, she exposed him to her exploring hands.

He hauled her so close he could have been trying to merge their bodies into one being for a moment. Upon spying her breasts, displayed by a precarious neckline, a crease formed between his brows. “My God, did you come here in that dress?”

“Yes. I left The Market as soon as I heard Andrew. I did not stop to change clothes.” Serena looked down and realized she had left wearing one of the dresses she wore while visiting in the salon. The tops of her areolas crested above the neckline, which just covered the stiff peaks of her nipples.

He tipped her chin up so their gazes met. “You, madam, are only permitted to wear this dress for me, here in our home. Are we clear?”

“Quite.” Serena agreed without hesitation, not missing the “our home” part. Her heart raced as her stomach flip-flopped.

“I have other demands I shall enumerate for you at our earliest convenience, but for the moment I think I shall investigate this gown further.” He leaned forward and slicked his tongue over the top of each coral arc. Continuing, he slipped a finger inside the material and popped her hard nubs free of their confinement. “Very nice, my dear.” He flicked each point with his tongue before raking them with his teeth. Heat converged between her thighs as he pressed his lower half closer.

Brennan let the surge of lust rip through him. With a jerk, he wrenched the sleeves of her dress down, fully exposing her breasts. He bent over, suckling one then the other when he realized the skirts impeded his ability to access the rest of her body. Righting himself, he spun her around and loosened the fastenings of the dress. He lifted it up over her head, tossing it aside, and released her petticoats. Satisfied with having stripped her down to her corset and short chemise, which left her breasts exposed, he dragged her against his chest. He kissed her neck as one hand toyed with a nipple. The other hand snaked down over her belly to dip between her moist folds.

He dragged his finger over her clit before slipping inside her warm sheath. A living flame in his arms, she branded him with her passion and desire. His cock had become a steel rod in his pants, aching for release. After leading her to the bed, he bent her forward with his body and kissed his way down her spine. Easing back, he opened the fall of his trousers. “I am yours, Serena, and you are mine,” he said and slammed his staff into her heat.