Page 65 of A Kiss Of Lies

“We don’t need to be married for me to promise that.”

“So that’s a no?” She heard the disappointment and sorrow in his voice.

She trailed her fingertips down his cheek. “That’s a yes, my darling. I would be honored to marry you.”

She was delighted to see a fragile bud of true, deep trust begin to unfurl in the depth of his eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“No more secrets between us, Serena. Promise me that.”

“You have my word,” she whispered as he gifted her with another kiss. “No more secrets between us, ever.”

ChapterFifteen

Christian awoke the next morning filled with new determination. More than anything, he had to clear his name. If he were to aid Serena, his reputation must be spotless. He could ill afford to have the Duke of Barforte step forward and blemish his character with false accusations, or worse, deliberately set out to hit back at him by ensuring Serena hung.

He left the house early before she awoke, and headed directly to the meeting with John Farnham of the Bow Street Runners.

As he drove through the London streets, he couldn’t get the terrible image of Serena dangling at the end of a rope from his mind. He’d had a nightmare again last night, but this time it wasn’t the smell of burned skin tormenting him.

Serena had been beside him in bed to comfort him, and she gave herself to him to help chase the bad dreams away. Little did she know they were dreams of her impending death. He’d forced from his mind the awful image of her eyes bulging and her legs waving in the breeze as the breath was choked from her body, replacing it with the pleasure he took from her. She’d offered her lush curves and silken skin to him to ease his suffering. She gave generously, whispering words of love and devotion in his ear.

He couldn’t believe he’d found a woman he wanted to share his life with. On the battlefields of France, he’d dreamed of meeting a woman he at least liked the look of, and had hoped they would rub along well enough, and that he’d sire a son to continue his title. But to meet a woman who commanded his heart and soul was completely unexpected, especially considering his burns and hideous looks.

He had recognized from the very beginning in Canada that this woman was different. The minute she’d walked into his study in York and hadn’t flinched when she saw his face, he’d known she was the one. His biggest fear was that he wouldn’t be able to save her. Would fate be so cruel as to send him the woman of his dreams, only to let her be ripped from his arms?

Somehow Serena had given him back to himself. For too long, he’d been pitying himself. So what if his looks were gone? There were others far worse off than him—Serena, for one. At least he was perfectly capable of defending himself, of living a full and deserving life. Serena had had any chance of happiness ripped from her, first by her grasping father and then by her evil husband.

How shallow he’d become.

He was ashamed of his actions these last few months. He swallowed, deciding he would try to overcome his shortcomings.

He couldn’t fail her. Serena had put her fate in his hands. The last thing he wanted to do was to fail her. For in failing Serena, he’d destroy any chance of his own happiness.

She should be the one scared and unable to sleep, but this morning, in wonder and reverence, he had watched her while she slept. He marveled that a beauty of such tiny stature had so much resilience and strength of character, even after enduring all that she had. He hadn’t hidden the fact that she would have to tell the world her story, and probably bare her back for all to see her whip marks.

For a woman of such a proud and noble upbringing, washing her dirty linen in public would be excruciatingly painful.

A fierce, tangled burning in his chest reminded him of his mission. What he now felt for Serena—the firestorm inside him, a primal certainty that he would walk through the fires of hell for her if he had to—was almost as painful as his burns had been. Her love had determined the course he now took to see her saved.

She was worthy of being saved. And by God he’d shrug off this cloak of self-pity and prove himself worthy of her faith and of her love.

By the time he’d returned from his unsatisfactory meeting with John Farnham, his mood had darkened. The Runner had found no leads regarding who’d killed Carla, but Farnham did know it couldn’t have been Christian. He’d been on the ship bound for Canada at the time of her death. Although, as Farnham rightly pointed out, it didn’t mean he hadn’t arranged for her to be killed in his absence.

Worse, Christian wasn’t looking forward to the opera tonight. He was attending with Hadley, having agreed to accompany him and Sebastian’s two younger sisters. Debutantes! That ought to get theton’s notice. Two Libertine Scholars with debutantes on their arms. A first for both men, and one that he did not welcome.

Seated in the library, he sat contemplating how wonderful his life had become since Serena and Lily entered it. He was waiting to say goodnight to Serena before he left to collect the Hawkestone ladies. She was occupied putting Lily to bed. The little girl was coping well with being in a new country and strange house. The resilience of the young was enviable. How he wished for their fortitude and ability to throw off sorrow.

He was on his third brandy. He wasn’t looking forward to this first foray back into society. He would be tormented by the endless questions that would be thrown at him about where he had been and why he had left England. He felt guilty because he was using Lily as his excuse. He would claim that he’d gone to bring home his ward and see to his Canadian business ventures.

He looked up as Serena entered the room. “I wish you could come with me,” Christian said before he could stop himself. “I’d much rather have you on my arm tonight.”

“How like a Libertine Scholar to want two women on his arm. I’m sure the young Lady Hawkestones are quite looking forward to your company.” She bent and kissed his cheek. “I’m rather jealous.”

“There is no need. I would much prefer to be attending with you, and only you.”

She looked at his face. With an inward smile she sighed. He was pouting like a schoolboy. They’d had this discussion earlier.

“This afternoon your lawyer recommended we ensure our case is well organized and the witnesses sound before we rashly draw attention to my identity.”

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