9781618858467ASinfulEducationPimentel Page 4

  My dearest Emily, I apologize for not having consulted you before picking out the gown. I was assured by the modiste that it is very much the fashion, and I am profoundly confident that you will look ravishing.

  She should have been content with his gift, but was ravishing a word to use on a girl who is new to society? He could have at least tried to woo me with something poetic, but a duke really doesn’t have time for that, does he? He is too busy with managing his duchy. Nevertheless, how could he say something so crass? So insensitive…

  Emily looked over at the time, wondering how much of it she had wasted on trying to decipher what the duke had meant by his note. Perfect. She had time to compose herself and check the state of her hair. What will he be like?

  Emily sincerely hoped her brother and sister in-law would make an appearance, yet doubted the marquess would be inclined to have his wife in the same room with the duke. She doubted the duke would even invite her brother after their trouble.

  Never in her twenty years had she ever considered herself marriage material, much less a duchess. Her belly sank with fear. She did not know the first thing about running a household, nor had she been permitted to attend such formal parties. If she had to accompany the duke on matters of business, what would be the expectations? Her head swam and drowned with possible scenarios and terrible outcomes.

  Emily lifted the garment from the box and passed it to their butler. “Alfred, please have my maid prepare a bath, and I would like some tea and biscuits brought up. There is too much to do and such little time to prepare for this ball. I doubt I will have time to dine before we leave.”

  Alfred bowed then quickly turned and left the parlor. Tonight can’t come soon enough.

  * * * *

  The Earl of Bridgeton cringed at the sight of young ladies eyeing him. They fluttered their fans and giggled as he passed, their chaperones scowling at him. Normalcy. So this was how the season would begin. His inheritance made him such a high prize. Unfortunately, what the ton did not know is that marriage was the furthest thing from his mind. Though that will never stop Mother from encouraging this farce.

  Emily had invaded his thoughts these last few days, as well as her impending betrothal to that scathing arse Downsbury. Since that nasty business with her brother, the thought of the duke laying his hands on that innocent, yet devilish chit incited his fury. From the moment he had caught her, swooning, in the marquess’s parlor, her softness had appealed to him in the most primal way. Simply put, she made his cock twitch.

  Her youthful and creamy complexion was most desirable, and the fact that she was new to the seasons of London meant she was not corrupted by its indecency. The one thing he detested the most was an over-confident girl who possessed the intelligence of a fly. A mule had more sensibility than half the women in front of him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Emily standing at the duke’s side. He painfully watched as the cad’s hand slid down from the small of her back to caress her bottom. Her eyes widened with shock, and Charles observed her polite smile as she swatted Downsbury’s hand away.

  Fury rushed through his veins. The duke did not deserve her.

  Then, Downsbury leaned in and whispered something that must have revolted her.

  Emily’s lips pursed, and she shivered. Avonlea was about to rescue the chit and ask her for a dance, but the duke cleared his throat and raised a glass that he took from a servant. “If I may have everyone’s attention, I would like to make a toast.”

  The guests surrounding him sighed and shushed the other attendees.

  “To Lady Emily Thompson.”

  Emily delivered a shaky smile and curtsied. Yet once everyone finished cheering, her smile curved into frown. She slipped her hands into the folds of her gown, he imagined to conceal their trembling.

  Time to rescue the poor girl. Hopefully, she’s had some dancing lessons.

  Avonlea crossed the floor and stopped before the newly engaged couple. “Your grace, my lady.” He bowed. “I was wondering if you would mind if I stole your lovely companion for a dance, your grace?”

  The duke simply slipped Emily’s hand into his. “She could use the practice, Lord Avonlea. Go ahead, my dear, I have some plans to discuss anyway.”

  Charles led the way to the dance floor and bowed as the musicians commenced the waltz. Her hand rested on his upper arm, and her gaze never left his. His heart momentarily stopped, giving him pause. Something in the air around him ignited a passion and desire for the young woman. And to think, their dance would be short lived.

  “Do you want to talk about what the duke said that had you so offended?” he asked.

  “Aren’t you the bold one this evening, my lord. Why ever do you think I was offended? He simply made promises—albeit shocking ones—I do not think I have ever heard spoken so publicly.”

  He must have said something lewd, for her response left more questions than answers. “And just what exactly did he say that was so shocking?”

  She snorted. “My lord, you’ll forgive my impertinence when I say, that it would be improper for me to repeat such things, let alone reveal the intimate discussion I had with my betrothed.”

  Intimate my arse. Why, if I had to guess, he probably scandalized her by telling her what he was going to do to her. And now, he is surely off shagging another guest while we are dancing. Everything about the man was detestable. One could not trust a snake while it slithered about London, much less at his own party.

  “Emily…My lady—forgive my manners—but I am a man in every way and maybe more so than the duke will ever be. I know the signs and the physical reactions when a person—a woman—is repulsed at the suggestion of doing something beyond her comfort level. What did he say?”

  Her eyes widened, and she turned away to gaze upon others dancing around them. Some of the guests chuckled, their attentions focused on the pair.

  “You know, you do not have to marry him. Nathaniel will ensure you are well provided for, until you are ready.”

  She halted and released him the moment the music stopped. He waited for her to scold him over his presumptions. She would not make a scene here of all places, but if she admitted her feelings for the duke, he would let her go on about her business and not dare to interfere. But something about this situation did not smell right. Avonlea was a man who followed his instincts, and his skin crawled with a sensation indicating danger was close.

  In a time when the country’s finances were uncertain, as war had taken its toll, he trusted his sixth sense. Emily was in danger, to put it plainly, and if she thought for one moment the duke meant well, she was wrong. Were Charles a betting man, he would wager his estate that Downsbury was up to something sinister.

  As soon as Wycliffe sobered up, he had to speak with the man who’d coveted the duke’s wife. If anyone knew how evil the duke could be, it would be him.

  “My lord, I really must be leaving. His grace will wonder what is taking me so long.” She curtsied and left him in a rush.

  His gaze lingered on the curves of her gown and settled around her bottom. He had fantasized about her derriere since the night he had caught her in his arms. Images of her bare arse sinfully occupied his thoughts more and more. As she disappeared down the hall, another man stepped in next to him.

  “She is quite the catch, that Lady Thompson. A spitting image of her mother, too. I envy the duke,” the tall, stout, and balding gentleman stated. “I wonder, though, if she’ll be enough to keep him interested. The good Lord knows, the previous duchess carried on so many affairs, it was not any wonder that she ended up dead. All of our sins will come to the forefront, and we pay for them in this lifetime. Pitty she lost the child as well.”

  “What are you talking about, and who, might I ask, are you?”

  “The duchess was with child and not of the duke’s, if you gather my meaning. And I was the one who pulled the dilapidated carriage out of the river. Sadly, her body was never recovered. It was just as well. The paria
h would have never had a proper burial. His grace was quite annoyed.”

  Of course, Avonlea had been uneasy that was never found. How else would Downsbury have been able to obtain an annulment? It would be rather amusing if her grace were to make a miraculous return from the dead. The duke would surely have an apoplectic fit.

  He was about to respond when he caught the wisp of Emily’s skirt go by. She stopped at the terrace, glanced back to see if anyone had followed her, and slipped out into the shadows of the moonlight. He bowed to the stranger. “Excuse me. I have just remembered something I must do.”

  Walking toward the terrace, Charles happened to notice the duke headed in their direction, adjusting his cravat and walking down an empty corridor. What the devil has he done? Closing the door behind him, Avonlea found Emily sitting on the bench, sniffling. He crouched down before her and offered his handkerchief. “There, there, sweeting. Tell me what happened.”

  She bent forward into his waiting arms and sobbed. “He…he…” She trembled.

  “He being who, love?”

  “The duke. When I departed the ballroom earlier, I went in search of him and found him with another woman.”

  “Surely, they were only discussing—”

  Emily released the most unladylike growl. “What could have they been discussing, when she was on her knees with her mouth over his…?” She pointed to his groin.

  The fact that the duke was already beginning to show his true colors, before they were even married, solidified that these two were ill-matched. The marriage was doomed even before it started, and she would never be anything more than his chattel.

  “Are you sure it was even him you saw?”

  “I cannot believe you are doing this to me. Stop patronizing me! Yes, it was him I saw. And to make matters worse, he acknowledged my presence by announcing that, in no time, I would be doing the same.”

  His heart lodged in his throat. “Emily—”

  The terrace door opened and slammed shut. “What do you think you are doing with my intended? Alone, out here, where there is no one else? How dare you!” Downsbury questioned, huffing and puffing.

  T’was as if the duke had slapped him. “Me?”

  There they stood behind the poplars in the darkness, silent other than the sound of crickets chirping. The earl shielded Emily from the duke, and it took every ounce of patience to not strike the insolent fool.

  The door opened and closed again. “Oh my. What on earth has happened?” Lady Thompson asked. “Emily, what have you done, you impossible girl?”

  “Yes, what have you done, my dear?” Downsbury added with a hiss.

  Between her mother and the idiot, Charles was not sure he could handle much more of these games. All he could think about was whisking her away from this madness.

  “Lord Avonlea, I believe this would be your cue to take your leave. This is a private matter and doesn’t involve you,” the dowager countess quipped.

  Oh, it involves me all right. “While that may be true, if I come to find out that you’ve done something to harm Lady Thompson, duke or not, I will call you out. And do not think for one moment the Marquess of Stoughton will not hear about this.”

  Charles turned toward Emily and bowed. “My lady, courtship to this man is a mistake, and any notion of marrying him is even more ludicrous. I may not have the power of a duke, but I assure you, even men of my stature would be able to provide you a good home and be a loving husband.”

  Egads. He could not believe he had uttered those words. But there was no way in Dante’s seven circles he would let her fall pray to the coxcomb nor her mother’s machinations.

  He focused on the older Lady Thompson. “You, as a mother, should be ashamed of what you are putting your only daughter through. Of all the directions you shove her in, you place your daughter’s love and happiness in a man who will never be content with a wife, much less with one woman.”

  The earl stormed off the terrace and, ignoring the guests, he passed by while the dowager countess followed hot on his heels.

  She managed to catch him just outside the door and pulled on his jacket. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Lord Avonlea. This whole party was in honor of their betrothal!” she yelled. “What were you doing with my daughter out on that terrace? I demand you tell me this instant, you…you…rogue.”

  Avonlea pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling with every force in him not to shout at the old bat. “Madame, I assure you on my father’s honor, I did nothing to disgrace your daughter or family name. I was merely consoling her.”

  The matron scoffed at him and poked her wiry finger into his chest. “They only had a disagreement. Couples do that. People argue all the time, and certainly do not need rescuing of any sort from the likes of you. You, sir, will maintain your distance from Emily and not meddle in their affairs. Secondly, you’ll not involve my son in this, either. The marquess is far too busy with the twins and that whore of a wife.”

  He could barely breathe as anger boiled beneath the surface. “You’ll not address her ladyship in that manner ever again. Am I understood? If any harm comes to Emily, you madam, will rue the day you were born.”

  “Pray tell, what exactly do you plan on doing? Abducting my daughter? Shipping me off to the Americas? My lord, their union is now a legal arrangement. If anything happens to the future Duchess of Downsbury or me, you will be held accountable.”

  Grinding his teeth, the earl cracked his knuckles. “If we are quite done, madame, I have places to go.”

  As he was about to descend the first level of steps, his mother called out, “Charles! Do not think you can leave this party without even stopping to talk to me.”

  “I am, and I will.”

  “But where are you going?”

  “To see a marquess about his sister.”

  Nathaniel had to know something was not right about this marriage, and if anyone could stop it, it would be him.

  Chapter Three

  “I do not know what possessed you to wander off to the terrace by yourself, young lady, but going forward, you’ll not embarrass me further,” the duke snarled.

  Emily could not believe he was scolding scolded her for running away after catching him in the middle of his indiscretion. Her stomach sank as hurt swallowed her whole. “Is this the way it will always be? For if it is, I will have you know, I will not accept your proposal. I will not be a party to your scandalous dalliances. Enough people have been harmed by them, and I will not stand for it. Me, embarrass you, your grace? I was not the one whose mouth was so indecently—”

  “You poor innocent,” he chided, closing the distance between them. He smirked at her before pulling her into a tight embrace.

  Emily nearly lost her breath when he held her pressed against his chest.

  With his free hand, he took hers and rubbed it over his hardening member. Her knees wanted to buckle beneath her. Rage began to consume her, and she could not help but feel violated and repulsed by his touch.

  “You need not be afraid of this, nor be jealous of any other women. Once we are wed, those beautiful, pouty lips will be wrapped around my cock in no time. And if you do it right, I just may keep you around longer than I was expecting. But I am positive, given enough time and training, you’ll even be open to the idea of another woman joining us, or entertaining others.”

  Emily gasped at the notion of sharing her future husband and was astounded he had suggested it with ease. Before she could speak, he freed her hand, only to pull down her bodice and expose one of her breasts. Fear riddled her body, and she felt a single tear drop down her cheek.

  Much to her chagrin, they were still hidden on the terrace, and no one thought to come looking for her.

  “While your tits are not of the size I normally prefer, they will do.” He pinched her nipple and chuckled.

  A sharp pain from his aggressive touch forced her to step back. “Your grace, you should not be touching me like this in public. We are not even married.”
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  “Nonsense, love. Many men and women before us have done far more sinful things than this before entering the church. Perhaps I will move you into my house once our engagement is announced, and spend some time in the evening educating you on a subject far more carnal.”

  Emily tried to pull away, but the duke maintained his hold. “And where do you think you are going, love? Into the arms of Lord Avonlea? I think not. That man will no longer be permitted to speak with you.”

  He released her and gave her bottom a hard squeeze. “Now, run along and clean yourself up. You look affright, and I will not be cuckolded by your inability to keep up appearances. You are about to be made into a duchess, so you may want to start acting as one and learn to do so with perfection.”

  Heat seared her cheeks. How could anyone be so crass? Her mother was marrying her off to the devil incarnate. And the earl was right. Marrying anyone else would be better than being paired off to his grace. He would never love her, and she was certain he had not loved his previous duchess.

  Their marriage would only be in name, and all because her dear mother wanted to be elevated in her status. Mama. She needed to find the woman and leave. Nausea washed over her in waves. Nathaniel, I need you.

  She picked up her skirts and left the terrace whilst the duke laughed abruptly behind her. Haphazardly, Emily pulled the rim of her bodice up, hoping no one could tell what had almost transpired moments ago.

  “Run, poppet, because in no time at all, you won’t even be able to do that.”

  The nerve, the audacity. She wanted to run all right. Straight into her brother’s house and never return to London. Suddenly, the notion of becoming a spinster did not sound so bad. Frankly, the thought was becoming more appealing by the second.

  But then again, she had an earl practically pleading her not to court his grace any longer. In that moment, she had seen a very different man than the boy who had gone to university with her brother. Not only was he handsome in a devilish way, but honorable. La! That trait certainly stood out the most and made her insides warm.