Chapter 1: A Fateful Beginning

        The carriage pulled to a stop outside of a well-known tea-room in London, England. The door cracked open and a beautiful young lady stepped out carefully and tilted up the wide brim of her hat to look at the clear blue skies. Shame it it to waste such fine days inside she thought, and walked gracefully towards the entrance, her parents following closely behind.
        The Lady Serena always wanted to be outside and, even though she tended to enjoy a quiet afternoon luncheon with her parents, she would have perferred to be somewhere else entirely on this glorious day. It was always the same. At one time she had been thrilled to be thought grown up enough to accompany her parents to a place like this but eventualy the novelty had worn down drasticly and she often found herself day-dreaming about nothing in particular...well, maybe one thing in particular...
        The Earl of Bath, a man named Darien. He was renowned bachelor, and Serena had convinced herself that she held no interest for him. It was just a matter of chance that my eyes followed him whenever he wasn't looking at least, that's what she told herself. But, it was very hard to lie to herself, and she knew, deep down, she was attracted to him. She had seen enough of the bodies of men to know that his was a fine one, and his role of the consummate bachelor simply made the young debutantes swoon when they thought of his piercing blue eyes. Serena was not like those simpering idiots, and she held nothing but disgust for them. She had more knowledge of men than any of them had and the other men saw it. She was, perhaps, one of the most courted young women in London because she had wise eyes that simply were not in keeping with her mere seventeen years and certain swing to her hips found only in married women. None of her peers could figure out exactly why all the men were attracted to her, but the men recognized that walk and they loved it.

        The earth was draped in evening and the tall, virile man stepped from his carriage into the small selective crowd of people entering the festivities. Darien loved to go to events such as these, not those boring balls thrown by the mothers of those insipid young girls who were always blatantly vying for his attention. At 28 he still was single, and had turned to more exciting pleasures after a brief, uneffective venture into the marriage mart. Tonight he was attending a masquerade thrown by one of the most famous actresses in London. Certainly not an event that any self-respecting woman of marriageable age would be seen at, certainly not. He saw her the moment he walked in, not bothering to take in the huge ceiling, monstrous chandelier, or the flamboyantly, and daringly dressed herds of people milling about or dancing. No, he saw no one but her. By God she was beautiful! Her head dipped back as she laughed, genuinely amused at the racous joke of a young lord. It wasn't the delicate twittering of a lady, it was a full-throated laugh full of vivacious humor. Out of the group of men surrounding her, one took it upon himself to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, saying something to the effect of "Goddess or no, I'll capture you and keep you for myself!". She laughed and beat his back, grinning good naturedly at his joke. The man reluctantly set her down, smiling all the while, and it was then that Darien took in her costume. Goddess in truth, she had decided to go as the greek goddess of love, Aphrodite, a character she was certainly fit for in his eyes. His eyes travelled slowly up her body, from her gold spagetti-strap sandals, her slim ankles that turned into the most beautiful pairs of legs he had ever seen, the ripe flare of her hips, a small, concave waist, full breasts, and a slender, elegant neck which led to a face hid by a small half-mask. All of this was viewed through her almost transparent white and pink samite gown which hung loose but was gathering in criss-crossing gold strands at her waist travelling up to her shoulders. Darien thought it was probably her hair that drew him most, for while he had seen plenty of the charms of women granted not so fine as hers, but still... it was her endless waterfall of shining blonde hair. Little had been done to put it up and so it hung freely down her back, tempting every man in the room to walk up and rub his cheek against. He could wait no longer, he must have her.

        "Angelica!" Giana cried happily when her charge burst into the room and threw herself into her arms. Giana had loved Serena like a daughter for all the time she had known her. The Italian contessa was a good friend of Lady Serena's mother, the Viscountess of Haddam, and had known Serena since she was twelve or so. She still remembered the day about a year ago when she had found Serena alone in her room crying her heart out. Upon asking the problem, Giana had found out that her young friend had discovered exactly what "poverty" and "orphan" meant. Serena had, of course, known the meaning of such phrases, but they had been simply words to her until she had made a few wrong turns and ended up in the more "earthy" side of London. She had begged Giana to help her do something about it. Bless her beautiful heart Giana thought, and together they had devised a way to help. Of course they could not feed all of them, but each one made a difference, she knew it in her heart.
        It had not been easy to think up a plan, for Serena had no money of her own and the contessa was not doing so well herself. When Serena confronted her father about giving her an allowance, he had yelled at her for the better part of a day about being selfish and wanting more new clothes, expounding vociferously upon the frugal values a woman should learn. They forgot that idea and tried to devise a way that Serena could earn money on her own. She did not balk for an instant for once she had set herself on a course of action she stuck to it. So, Giana had made her aware that she could, given the right circumstances, use her womanly virtues to acquire money from men.
        It all began so innocently at first, Serena being quite innocent herself. Giana, a widow and reknowed for her "Italian blood", saw nothing wrong really with letting the girl enjoy herself before she was forced into a marriage probably doomed to be loveless. She spent a little over five months training her in the art of feminine wiles, and for the past six and a half months, all had been going extrodinarily well. The orphanage held ten children now, all happy and full of life after they had been there for a while. To Giana, it was worth the risk to her own reputation and she was more than positive that Serena felt the same way. They would go out perhaps once a week usually, and Giana would give the excuse that her daughter was going to the opera or some other event, never giving the exact names for fear of discovery. Lady Serena, had been given the nickname "Angel" by all the men she encountered because she always masked her identity and never gave her real name. Giana had taken the calling her "Angelica" for fun. It was time to go out again tonight and Serena had to change quickly. Giana hugged her back and pulled away.
        "My, my, Angelica, you look more beautiful every time I see you. I visited the orphange today - Ann and Micheal are beginning to come around."
        "That is wonderful!" Serena said with a smile, "I can't wait to see them again, you're so lucky to be able to come and go as you please..." she pouted. "Oh stop that!" Giana grinned, "One day you will be able to do the same. Now stop all this and get dressed, we want to be there on time at least." Serena made a face and ran behind a screen, looking around to see what costume Giana chose for her. Aphrodite she let out a giggle oh this is rich!