Read Love Redeemed Online

Authors: Sorcha Mowbray

Tags: #Historical Romance, #The Market Series, #Romance, #Victorian, #Historical, #Literature & Fiction

Love Redeemed (10 page)

As they parted, her heart raced, pounding in her chest. Pushing down her sadness, she tried desperately to affect a cheerfulness she did not claim. “Hello.”

“Why don’t you get dressed? Dinner will be ready soon and then I want to stroll in the garden.” He stepped away and headed toward the door that joined their rooms.

Stiffening her resolve, she watched him disappear and then rang for Maggie. She needed to dress and the quicker the better.

 

 

The sun had set, blanketing the sky in darkness. Stars twinkled overhead as she wrapped her shawl tighter about her shoulders. Brennan draped an arm about her hoping to offer her a bit more warmth. Excitement left him a little breathless as he anticipated proposing to Serena, and her accepting. Deep in his bones lie the knowledge she loved him; he saw it in her eyes every time their gazes met or they made love.

They rounded the corner following the hedges and a small gasp loosed from the feminine body next to him. “Oh, how lovely.”

They took in hundreds of candles flickering in the dark, casting a warm glow on the garden. Everywhere one looked sat a candle, except for a bench in the midst of it all. His confidence grew by leaps and bounds. He led her to the bench and lowered himself to one knee. A trembling hand came up to cover her mouth.

“Serena, I have made no secret of how I feel about you. You bring me joy and laughter and make me want to cosset and protect you from all that is wrong with the world. I cannot imagine our contract coming to an end and you no longer being here, in my bed, in my arms, or in my heart. I love you to distraction and most humbly beg you to please make me the happiest of men by becoming my wife.”

He opened a small jewelry box, identical to the one that had held the earrings she’d refused. The difference being, that nestled inside lay a sapphire-and-diamond ring. Her gaze sought his, but instead of joy he found heartbreak and sadness lacing her eyes.

“No.” A small, pitiful cry escaped from her as she stood.

A denial of his suit or something else?

“No, Brennan, I cannot marry you. I will not be responsible for ruining your life…your business. I came by your office this afternoon to invite you on a picnic.” She drew a deep breath.

“Serena, please!” He rose up from his knee.

“No, Brennan. I know. I know you are losing business, just as your sister said you would, because I am here. I told you before I would not tolerate being your downfall. I’m sorry, I cannot marry you. Please consider our contract severed.” She moved around him, leaving him rooted to the spot unable to move or object.

He was stunned by her speech as he groped about his mind for an argument. Precious little came to mind beyond the truth. “But, I love you,” he called out to her retreating back.

She paused, looking over her shoulder, the soft glow of the candles casting a halo about her. A single tear tracked down the soft skin of her cheek. “Good-bye, Brennan.”

And then she was gone.

Brennan collapsed to his knees and cried, surrounded by candlelight and alone in the garden. Sometime later, he picked himself up from the ground and resolved to find her. Make her see reason. Upstairs in her room, he found all of the gowns he had paid for, but no sign of her. All her trinkets from the vanity were gone as well.

He stalked downstairs, ordered his carriage and headed to his club. He needed a stiff drink and some masculine company.

Settled into a comfortable wing chair by a roaring fire with a brandy in his hand, he could almost pretend the disaster of a proposal had not happened. But Andrew appeared, confused as to why Brennan sat in their chairs.

“Weren’t you proposing to your ladybird tonight?” Andrew settled in the open chair.

“It did not go as hoped. She was less than enthused by my offer.” Brennan frowned and swirled the snifter of amber liquid.

“I see. She refused you?”

“She fled into the night. She refused to be the cause of my financial failure.”

“She does have a point. You’re losing business now that word’s got out you are living with a whore. I cannot imagine what would happen if you married her.” Andrew shrugged.

“If you ever refer to her as such again, I will wallop you where you stand.” He issued the threat and sipped his drink, relishing the burn from his tongue to his gullet.

“Very well. Give her a day to calm down and then visit her. Bring her flowers and chocolates, you know the usual things.” Andrew nodded sagely.

Brennan grunted in acknowledgement and pondered his options.

 

***

 

Serena arrived at The Market, unable to stop the flow of tears. After slipping in the back door, she crept to her room and shut herself in. Tomorrow she would figure out how to go on; how to continue to live with a gaping hole in her chest. Madame had warned all the girls that while sometimes their customers would take them as mistresses, might dote on them, and play the besotted swain, it was foolish to fall prey to any semblance of love. Falling in love with your protector was a certain path to misery. And Serena could personally attest to the validity of those warnings.

Still unsure how she arrived at such a disastrous end, Serena crushed her face into the pillows and sobbed. She mourned all that could have been had she been born to different circumstances, and she mourned all that would never be. No man would ever touch her as deeply or stir her soul in the manner Brennan had. Her existence would be a solitary one, always giving pleasure, never experiencing it, for all things paled in comparison to the joy she had found in Brennan’s embrace and in his love. As she drifted off to sleep, she recalled the feel of his arms around her, the heat of his breath on her skin, the slide of his firm muscular frame against her softer one. In her dreams, she would take solace in his memory and the love that burned so strongly between them.

 

 

Rising stiffly from her bed, Serena went in search of Madame Marchander. A light knock was answered, calling her in to the office.

“What are you doing here so early, Serena?” Madame sat by the fire sipping her morning cocoa.

“I have ended the contract with Mr. Whitling.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“He fancies himself in love with me. It seemed better to end it now rather than allow the situation to drag out to the inevitable end.”

“What end would that have been?” Madame quirked an eyebrow up.

“Why, the end of the contract.”

“Did he not propose to you while you were with him?”

Serena’s hands shook with nervousness. “He did.”

“Do you not love him then?”

Confusion whirled through her head. Why was Madame asking these questions? “Yes—but, it cannot be. I am a whore, and he is a gentleman. All he worked for was crumbling around him. I refuse to be the cause of his ruin. He would ultimately hate me for it one day when he woke up and realized that not only was his business failing but he had tied himself to such an unsuitable woman.”

“I see. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Serena gathered the fraying bits of her resolve. “I’m certain. I am ending the contract as I was told I could.”

“Very well, I will send a note returning the balance of his fees. Take a day or two for yourself, then you may return to socializing in the salon. You may refrain from servicing any customers until you feel you are ready, but don’t be too long about it. I doubt it will become easier with time.”

“Thank you, Madame.”

 

***

 

A week later Brennan and his friend sat considering their options. “Andrew, I called on her bearing flowers and candies, but she refused to see me. I had flowers delivered with a note, they were refused. I had a boy watch the house to alert me if she came out so I could have a word with her on the street, but she has not left. If she won’t see me, how can I convince her to marry me?”

His friend looked thoughtful. “Perhaps you could try a different approach to convince her you two should be together.”

“What do you suggest? I must say I am at a loss.”

“What of a healthy dose of jealousy?”

“Jealousy? How can I make her jealous if she will not see me?”

“She might not see you, but she will hear things. Perhaps Madame Marchander could be of some assistance?”

“I see. I make her believe I have moved on, and she will come to me begging for another chance? Do you honestly believe that will work?”

“Women chase men they want all the time. Why shouldn’t it? You simply need to find a woman to carry on with and ensure she hears of it.”

“Would your sister be willing to let me court her?”

“Hold on there now. I did not say to drag Melanie into this.”

“Come on, Andrew. I wouldn’t want to bring some chit into this plot that would have an expectation of an unrealistic outcome. We would tell your sister what is going on.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Why don’t you at least let her hear me out and see what she thinks?” Brennan sat forward, hope blossoming anew.

“Silly chit would go right along with you all in the name of love,” Andrew grumbled.

“Come, don’t make me remind you who helped you out when you needed someone to escort Melanie to the Shaferton soiree last season?” Brennan hated bringing it up, but he needed her help and he needed Andrew to agree.

Andrew sipped his own brandy. “I knew your help would come back to haunt me. Very well, we will speak to her tomorrow.”

 

***

 

Brennan sat across from Melanie over tea with Andrew on his right. He had not heard from Serena since her flight. He was certain this remained the best way to get her attention. The three friends sat awkwardly over tea and shared a stilted conversation about the weather. Not one of them cared the sun had not been out for the last four days.

Within a short time, they realized they had much to explain.

“I do not understand why you do not simply tell the woman how you feel about her,” Melanie urged.

“I have. She does not believe she is worthy of becoming my wife, and she believes she is ruining my business.” Brennan grew more frustrated every time he explained the situation.

“I must say, I would advise against this little plot you two have hatched.” She looked from her brother to Brennan. Disapproval creased her forehead, drawing her brows together.

Brennan took a deep breath and refused to let go of hope. She would come around. Melanie always had a soft heart.

“However, if you really believe this is the only way, I will help you.” A smile dissipated her earlier frown.

“Thank you. I cannot tell you how much this means to me. If ever there is anything I can do….” Brennan came forward to the edge of the chair and grasped her hand.

“Oh, I am sure I will think of some way you can help me in the future.” She winked and took her hands back. “In the meantime, we must plot a way for you to be seen with me and have word get back to Miss Freemont.”

“We shall go for a drive in Hyde Park and perhaps do some shopping on Bond Street. Then Andrew here will be responsible for ensuring word gets back to her that I am having dinner with you at my home, alone.” Brennan nodded, pleased with the plan.

“Obviously, I will not be there when she arrives, but by that time it will be too late, and she will have shown her hand.” She clasped her hands and sighed.

Andrew stood. “Well, I suggest you two go for that drive while I work on my part. Brennan, I assume shopping tomorrow and dinner tomorrow evening will give her time to react?”

“Indeed. I imagine she will be quite angry once this all unfolds, hopefully just angry enough to make her realize we belong together.” He shook hands with Andrew then turned to his accomplice. “Shall we go for that drive? I believe it is the fashionable hour.”

“Yes, let’s.” She rose from the settee. “I’ll be just a moment.” The golden-haired girl floated out of the parlor leaving Brennan alone with her brother.

“You will be able to secure a token for The Market? My agreement did not include any or I would take care of it for you.” Brennan and Andrew walked into the foyer to wait.

“I should have no problem. Tomorrow night I will drop by there and plant the seed. I imagine she will hotfoot it over to your townhouse once she hears.” Andrew clapped him on the shoulder.

“We shall see.” Brennan took his hat from the butler and turned to take Melanie’s arm as she rejoined them ready for a drive.

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Serena could not stand the misery any longer. He continued, relentless in his pursuit, and if he came to see her once more, she would fall apart. There was one person she believed could help her bring this siege to an end. Lady Caroline Thornton.

She took a huge risk. The lady would likely slam the door in her face before she got two words out, but she had to try. For her sake and for his she stood before the imposing door of Sir and Lady Thornton’s townhouse. She lifted the heavy brass knocker and tapped it against the matching plate. The door opened to reveal a starchy butler with bushy eyebrows and a bit of a sneer on his face.

“How can I help you?” He sniffed with disdain.

Serena handed a calling card to the formidable figure. “Miss Serena Freemont to see Lady Thornton.” She strived for the brisk, no-nonsense tone that usually got her what she needed with recalcitrant servants.

“Wait here.” He disappeared and the door thumped shut.

Serena remained on the stoop working to rein in her temper. She needed to be calm for the coming discussion. Shortly, the door opened again and swung wide. “This way, please.”

She followed the crusty old man into a sumptuous sitting room where Lady Thornton sat perched on a delicate settee.

“Please come in, Miss Freemont.” Lady Thornton waved her over, indicating a seat near her.

“Thank you for seeing me, Lady Thornton. I will not take any more of your time than required to beg you for your assistance.”

“Do you wish to take me up on my original offer?” she inquired and sipped her tea.

“It is about your brother. As I am sure you are well aware, I have severed all ties with him in an effort to salvage his professional reputation. I came to learn he lost business because of our association. Then he proposed to me and I said no before leaving. However, since then he has hounded me. Sending flowers, candies, notes, and he even had a boy sit across the street to watch for my comings and goings. I am a prisoner in The Market!” To her great mortification, tears slipped down her cheeks. She had sworn she was done crying over Brennan Whitling, but once again her wretched emotions had gotten the best of her.

Other books

Hot Finish by Erin McCarthy
The Red Market by Carney, Scott
Los niños del agua by Charles Kingsley
The Key by Jennifer Sturman
Gone South by Robert R. McCammon
Heir Untamed by Danielle Bourdon
To the Dark Tower by Francis King
Thirteen Orphans by Jane Lindskold
Brothel by Alexa Albert


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024