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  Not paying any attention to her direction, she collided with the butler.

  “My lady. Forgive me.”

  “Nothing to forgive, sir. I was entirely in the wrong. Have you seen my mother?”

  “Yes, my lady. She just came back in the front door. I believe she just finished scolding one of the guests.”

  Of course she was. Poor Avonlea. She would never forget how kind he was, nor how warm he felt when he shielded her from the duke. “Thank you, sir.”

  About to turn down the next hall, Emily found her mother.

  “There you are, my dear. Where are you going?”

  “Home. I am unwell and very tired. I am sure all I need is some rest.”

  “Why, of course, dear, let me get my things, and I will go with you.”

  “Oh, Mama, stay and enjoy the gathering. T’would be a perfect opportunity to mingle with some of the men in the duke’s circles. Perhaps you will find yourself a randy and wealthy gentleman to take care of you as well.”And keep you from meddling in my life.

  “That sounds like a lovely idea, dear. Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

  “Yes, Mama. Go.”

  Giving her a wary glance, her mother turned and left her alone. Perfect. Now she could stop at home and pick up a few things on the way to Nathaniel’s. This time, I will have to find a way to stay even longer.

  * * * *

  “You know…right when I think I finally have peace in my house, you show up at my door and drag me to Wycliffe’s. What in bloody hell is keeping Wycliffe, Avonlea?” Nathaniel asked, drumming his fingers on the wooden arm of the chair.

  The earl continued to pace by the fireplace when the bloke decided to make an appearance, completely disheveled and clothed only in his breeches.

  “What on earth are the both of you doing here? It is after midnight.”

  “I am not quite sure either, Wycliffe, but he will explain.” Nathanial scoffed, pointing at Charles.

  Why do these two always make me out to be the villain? “Wycliffe, once you tell us the information we seek, we will be out of your sight. I want you tell us what you know of what transpired before the duchess’s exile into the country, and any other useful information you may have.”

  The drunkard stumbled into the seat behind his desk and propped his feet up. His long, dark hair covered the dark circles around his eyes and hid the fact that he had not shaved in days. “If you gents neglected to notice, I drink to forget about her. The last thing I want to do is remember how vile and despicable the duke is, let alone think of the duchess’s time spent with that clod.”

  “Why do you say he’s vile?” Avonlea asked.

  “Go on,” Nathaniel added.

  “He’s a dirty bastard, you know. He knew all those things about Brimley were wrong, but he led the haute ton to believe Brimley was fucking her. Then, there was the fact he threatened to ship her to the continent and leave her in some institution. Though, I have my doubts about where he was planning on sending her. Bah!” Wycliffe slammed his fist down. “Enough of this interrogation. Get out of my house now. Both of you. I want m’sleep,” the Earl slurred as he rose.

  “Fine, we will leave, but I will be back in a few days to check on you. Wycliffe, this isn’t right. You need help. I can take you into the country for a few days for some hunting, if you wish.”

  Once upon a time, the earl would not have considered offering such assistance. Yet, considering the man still grieved for a woman he held dear, t’was a position Charles knew well. Wycliffe required time to heal, but he still needed to move forward, and mayhap a hunting trip might bring the man to his senses.

  “The answer is no. Now, leave me be. I trust you’ll find your way out.”

  Wycliffe left him and Nathaniel staring at each other. “Well, you heard the man. Off we go.”

  They had not made any progress in obtaining the information Avonlea had hoped for, but Wycliffe’s feelings and character assessment assured him that they were correct in their suspicions. Downsbury was the last man on God’s earth who could be trusted.

  Climbing onto their horses, he grunted and muttered an oath. “Nathaniel, your sister is not safe with him. I can feel it in my blood.”

  “Avonlea, I simply cannot stop anyone based on a hunch. I need proof. If Emily is in any danger, I need something solid and significant. One doesn’t summon Bow Street on domestic matters. Unless you can find something else, I cannot do anything to undo the duke’s engagement to my sister.”

  Frustration mounted, and if there had ever been a moment where he felt useless, now was the occasion. They needed more evidence, anything that would rouse the suspicion of the magistrate.

  “Listen, we’ve known each other since Oxford, and our friendship has been tested in many ways over this last year. I will not have you ride home alone and drink out of anger. Come stay with me at the manor. I am sure after a good nights slumber, we can find another way.”

  “What would your bride think of me intruding upon your abode at this ungodly hour?” Avonlea asked.

  “Hardly anything. Hopefully by the time we slip in, the entire house, including the twins, will be sound asleep.”

  Thirty minutes later, he followed Nathaniel in through the entrance to find his wife napping on the dais in the hallway. When they entered, she woke with a start. “Good grief, I had not meant to fall asleep out here.”

  The earl turned away, wanting to avoid embarrassing her in the manner she dressed.

  “What are you doing down here, my love?”

  “Emily arrived a short while ago. Quite exasperated, too. The poor dear, I fear, is falling prey to your mother’s machinations. I am not quite sure she should be marrying the duke, Nathaniel.”

  The marquess sighed. “Avonlea, please make yourself comfortable in my parlor. I will join you soon.”

  Charles meandered off in the direction of the parlor, quietly contemplating the marchioness’s proclamation. Thank goodness, he was not the only one who could see past the duke’s influence.

  Moments later, Nathaniel joined him by the fireplace, stoked the fire burning out, and went to pour them some port. “You have to understand, Avonlea. I simply cannot put an end to this nonsense without considering how it will ruin Emily’s chance of being marriageable. Think for a moment, if you will, if we were to end this engagement. Name one reputable gent who would offer for my sister. They’d all think she was defective in some manner, and I will not have her name tainted.”

  He took the glass Nathaniel passed him and watched the deep, rich tones of purple swirl by the light of the flames. “I am not saying you have to ruin her in the process. We could simply make him go away. To be frank, if you ask me, I think he proposed the match because of her dowry.”

  “While that may be true, it still does not mean I have the right to ruin her reputation. I was true when I said I will stop this marriage from being pursued, but only when we have more to go on. This isn’t some conspiracy theory we are working on for head of state, either. We are talking about bringing down a member of the peerage. There will be consequences to our meddling. And I, for one, will not risk the reputation of my children and wife.”

  The earl knew all to well what this could do to their family. Peace had only just returned to their lives. And what he was proposing would disrupt things once again. “I would never ask you to do such a thing, and I can see now that I should have never returned here.”

  “Nonsense. Henry will see you to the guest wing. I am sure by morning we will all be in better spirits.”

  One can only hope.

  * * * *

  Emily tossed and turned for what seemed an eternity. Hearing Lord Avonlea’s voice in the darkness roused her from slumber each and every time she closed her eyes. Tonight’s turn of events certainly left a bad impression of what her pending nuptials to the duke would bring. Even if she confided in her mama of how lewd he was, the woman would never believe her.

  She had never dreamed of the day she woul
d marry, much less to a duke. His grace, while he was not entirely attractive, had a charming air about him. Perhaps it was his wealth, or maybe his confidence, that attracted others into his circle. She would hate to be known as the only one who did not particularly care for his sexual prowess or finances.

  Emily shuddered to think that people actually enjoyed such demeaning acts. Then the image of that woman on her knees, sucking hard and fast on her betrothal’s nether regions invaded her mind again. She had heard of the act plenty of times from attending plays and reading those French novels her friends had stolen off the headmistress. There were other positions they’d often joke about as well.

  One night, she and the young ladies giggled in the darkness, when they should have been sound asleep, of how some enjoyed it from behind. That is, until one of the schoolmistresses had walked in on Agnes Miller saying she had watched her eldest brother take a woman that way not too long ago. It had been utterly scandalous!

  Several lashings later, Emily had been removed from the school. And thank heavens her mama had never found out about the discussion, as Nathaniel had been the one to collect her. While he had been told a more fabricated version of events, she suspected he knew more than what he led on.

  She had always been curious as to what kind of pleasures a woman could receive. Most of the ones illustrated in those novels had been for male release, so what did that mean for her? From what she walked in on, she hardly saw how a woman could enjoy being on her knees, her mouth so full. How on earth did a person breathe like that? So many questions and no one to ask.

  Well, there was. But would she really get an answer? She could not very well ask her brother and his wife. And her mother was out of the question. Perhaps the answer lie with attending more plays, or maybe even asking another gent. But who? Even more, how to begin such an inappropriate conversation without a man taking it as an invitation?

  I am an imbeccile. No one would believe her. She was a girl, and her only real value was whether she could bare an heir to his grace’s title.

  All these thoughts had her in a tizzy, and she was wide-awake. Dawn would not be for hours, and her tummy grumbled from not having eaten during the evening. All in the name of fitting into that ridiculous gown that exposed far too much of her bosom.

  Slipping out of bed and wrapping her robe, she lifted a candle from the bureau and crept out of her room. The hall was dimly lit, and the house was asleep. Almost. An old man servant walked the lower level.

  Emily stepped off the final, hardwood step and sat the candle down on the table against the wall of portraits. She slipped into the kitchen and knocked on the sideboard to announce her presence. The last thing she desired was put dear old Duncan in his grave long before his time.

  “Lady Emily, I had not been informed of your arrival here at Stoughton Hall.”

  “Well, I imagine not, as I did not arrive until well after midnight. What has you up at this forsaken hour, sir?”

  The old man chuckled. “In my old age, dear, I fear I do not sleep much. Though, I had come down in hopes of having some warm milk to help settle my nerves.”

  “Oh, that sounds wonderful. Could you warm some for me as well, please?”

  Duncan had served here ever since her papa was a lad. Three generations was a long time to be a servant, and sadly, even having spent many years in this home, she did not know much about him. How was it possible to share a house with so many people and never really know any of them? What a sad state of affairs. Her mama had spent so much time barking out orders and demands, she wondered if she even knew their names.

  Before she returned home, Emily wanted to get to know the staff, even spend a little time with her niece and nephew. Up until a month ago, when her mother had dragged her out of this house, she had not had a moment to visit the babies at all.

  “There you go, young miss. I hope it settles whatever is bothering you tonight.”

  She laughed. Nothing could settle what bothered her unless her wedding was called off. “That, I doubt, sir, but I am willing to try anything.”

  “If I may speak, miss.”

  “Certainly Duncan.”

  He gave her a warm smile. “The staff and I heard through the grapevine you are to be the next Duchess of Downsbury. Is the news true?”

  I wish it were not. “Yes, it is. Though, I am not confident I am the best choice for the job. Trouble seems to find me no matter where I go.”

  “Well, one cannot argue with that, but I daresay, you are young and beautiful. What more can a duke ask for other than male heirs.”

  “They should be getting an obedient wife, who will be submissive to the bone. I do not have such talent.” Emily chugged the last of her drink in the most unladylike manner and rose from her chair. “Duncan, I think this was just what I needed. If you do not mind, I would like for you to take me on a walk of the grounds tomorrow. I would love for us to talk some more.”

  “Certainly, miss.”

  Chapter Four

  The Earl of Bridgeton stood glaring at the marchioness with shock. His mouth dropped, and his speech had gone for the moment. “But, my lady, I really should not be going. Nathaniel should be the one to escort you and Lady Thompson to Vauxhall.”

  “Pish posh! It was Nathaniel’s suggestion. He said for you to ask him if you did not believe me.”

  Charles groaned. Of all the places to take them. This, by far, was sure to be a colossal mistake. If the duke ever found out he was there with Emily, his grace would have his hide. “Fine. Just this once.”

  Considering Emily had not risen yet for breakfast, he had time to go for a change of clothes and return. “Does our future duchess know yet?”

  “I imagine not. She only arrived an hour or so before you two. Besides, she’ll be fine with it, I assure you. She did mention she owed you some kind of apology for the way her mother behaved, so this outing will provide her with the opportunity.”

  He had wondered when he would see her next. At least, he knew she would be safe from the duke’s advances for now. Though Vauxhall’s entertainments were surely a bad influence, he hoped nothing too shameful would be on display in the theater. She had already seen far more than she expected in the duke’s care, and he pondered what her thoughts were on the act itself.

  The pleasure of having a woman’s lips engulfed on one’s cock was incredible. The warm, slick heat. The constant movement of a tongue swiping, sucking. The kittenish sounds aroused him.

  Heaven help me… The urge to pull out his manhood and see to his relief was maddening. Thinking about Emily doing the same things with her tousled red locks, and her pouty red lips swollen from him kissing her…Jesus. If he kept these thoughts up while he was on his horse, he would be walking funny by the time he returned to collect them.

  It was truly a pity he could not find anything to break Lady Thompson and Downsbury’s engagement. For if he could, he would consider asking for her hand in marriage. He doubted she would accept his offer after the sham of a betrothal with the duke, but Charles longed for a woman to challenge him and make him burn the way she did.

  The gel was high maintenance without a doubt, but she had a certain amount of naiveté that appealed to his more masculine tendencies. Instructing her would be a delight. Showing her that not all rakes were total coxcombs and hare-brained was something he felt she needed to see and experience.

  In all his years of being a bachelor, not once did he not take a woman’s pleasure into consideration. Women were not just vessels, but divine treasures who should be idolized. Loved. These were the things women had taught him over the years. It was not until he came into his title, did he learn that the most important rule was that a woman’s pleasure came first.

  When widow Haverford first approached him after he returned to London from Oxford, she had taught him a wealth of information. For a woman of her experienced years and eccentric tastes, she had instructed him in order to gain favor.

  He was not one to brag, but over the years,
his lady companions complimented him on his length, girth, and how he used his tongue. While such comments pleased him, they did not do a thing for the loneliness occupying his days of late. He did not like the feeling of being used, and while once upon a time he would not have cared, now life had changed significantly.

  However, all of his thoughts these days focused around Emily. She made him burn. Nathaniel would have his arse if he knew of the sinful thoughts Charles had about his sister.

  Avonlea stopped outside of his townhouse. His doorman opened the door. “Edward,” he called out to his butler. “Once I leave, please have a change of clothing brought over to the Marquess of Stoughton’s manor. I was hoping to be home today, but the marchioness seems to have other plans.”

  “Certainly, sir. For how many days do you expect to be gone?”

  “One, maybe two at the latest?”

  “Very well, I will have Brandon deliver the items himself after your departure.”

  Avonlea turned to leave just as his butler called, “This came in for you earlier. It has his grace’s emblem on it. I think you should read it right away.”

  Christ. What does he want now? He broke the wax seal and opened the vellum.

  You will stay away from her. If you do not cease your harassment, I will ensure all measures will be taken to secure you. Permanently.

  She. Is. Mine.

  His grace,

  Richard William Waite, the third Duke of Downsbury

  Charles crumpled the paper and tossed it to his butler. “Hastings, the next time you receive a missive from his grace, do us all a favor and destroy the damned thing immediately. I am not easily intimidated, and I will not stand for it.” I would rather spend time in Newgate for assaulting the duke before submitting to idle threats.

  Slamming his chamber door shut and coming out of clothes, he stood by the washstand, conveniently stationed near his bedroom window. Standing stark raving naked, washing his hands and his face, he began to think of Emily. Again. His cock swelled, and his thoughts drifted to her gown the other night.