Page 7 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

“She is nearly eighteen! Far too old for corporal punishment.”

My lips twitch as I shake my head. “I’ll be sure to convey that sentiment to Madame Douler. She will be heartbroken to know you can no longer in good conscience avail yourself of the older women, as talented as they may be.”

“You know what I mean, Foxford. She’s not some woman trained in the art of pain and pleasure. She’s an innocent. A-”

“Innocent, ha! She’s a foolish little girl in need of a waking up. Hopefully, her future husband, poor sap that he is, will have a firm enough hand to keep her in line, or he too will end up in the poorhouse.”

“Yes. You’re right. What else can I say? She vexes me so. I cannot allow myself to touch her.”

My brows raise. “You are her cousin. Why can you not marry her yourself and then have complete control over her?”

The muscle in his jaw jumps as he stands there, silent. “I don’t quite want her in that way. Not sexually.” He pauses for a moment, his rigid stature belying the earnest tone of his words. “But the violence I feel for her… It’s unnatural. I’ve never wanted to wring the life out of someone as much as she.”

I slap my hand on the back of his shoulder and shake my head. “It’s not unnatural, to be sure. But I understand your predicament. Come. Let me see this foul beast you are beset with, and I shall endeavor to free you from her grip.”

“Very well,” he smiles, a hint of laughter on his breath. “I will have you shown to the library and order a maid to bring her to you. I will be there momentarily.”

Nodding, I stride over to the door where the servant from earlier waits for me. Pausing in the doorframe, I turn back, watching my friend as he pours over the pages he found within the desk. It really is unfortunate his life is so turned topsy-turvy. And all over a girl.

“To the library, Sir?”

“Yes.”

“Very good, Sir.”

As we traverse the halls, I’m once again struck by just how much this house is lacking in basic care. No doubt Middlehey is down to a skeleton crew, and most are doing their best, but it’s not good enough for me. A friend as caring and loyal as he should have much better in life.

As we reach the library, the servant opens the door and bows. “I shall fetch Lady Teresa.”

Lady Teresa. Such a respectable name for one so prone to chaos. Shaking my head, I glance about the space, my eyes narrowing in on the haphazard volumes stacked up. Many of these books are precious and rare, and yet, they lay there as if nothing but trash.

I pick up a volume of Plato’s Republic and turn it about in my hands. Though not the original by far, it’s still a much older version that should be cherished and cared for. If I had my way about it, this would be in my house behind glass where no harm could come to it.

But it’s not mine, and I loathe the idea of prying yet one more item from Middlehey’s grasp. Setting it back down, I wind my way around, looking for any sort of coherency to the piles and finding none. Whoever arranged them this way has a mind that does not match my own.

As I glance down the length of one stack, a soft noise captures my attention. My head shoots up, and my gaze lands on a girl sitting in front of the window. How did I not realize she was in here? I must have been far too deep in my thoughts.

I take in her disheveled appearance and sun-dipped hair, mostly straight with just the hint of a curl as it lays undone about her face. Though there is beauty there, I do not allow my mind to wander. I refuse to dally with servants, even if they are not of my own.

Pursing my lips, I make my way toward her, irritation burning in my gut as I get closer. It doesn’t matter Middlehey cannot afford the best help. The ones that are employed should do their work. First the drunk footman and now a servant girl that might cause precious books to go to ruin by her inattention. It’s all too much.

“I say. You there. Isn’t there work to be done while you just laze about?”

CHAPTER 4

Joseph

The girl ignores me, opting instead to turn the page and giggle at whatever it is she’s reading. “Servant girl,” I call out a bit more forcefully, adding a bite to my tone. “You will answer me.”

Again, nothing. Exasperation lances through my body as I search the room for Middlehey. He should be here by now. Since she is not my servant to discipline, I don’t feel comfortable taking her in hand, but something ought to be done.

Eventually, my gaze lands on a pitcher of water and an empty glass, and that’s when an idea forms in my head. Pouring until the glass is half full, I storm over to the belligerent girl and hurl the liquid into her face, watching in satisfaction as she shrieks and tosses the book away.

“You imbecilic, addlepated, daft, knobbed-in-the-head buffoon,” she screams out, her voice loud and high. “How dare you nearly cause this book to go to ruin!” The girl turns her back to me as she hunches down and dabs at the pages.

For a moment, I just stand there, stunned that anyone, much less a servant, would dare speak to me in such a manner. Her scent blossoms in the air, alluring notes of mint and sage with just a hint of wood. An omega.

The potent scent calls to me, teasing my senses, but I refuse to allow it to hold any sort of sway over me. Omegas are not rare, and so it would be idiotic to allow someone as she to entice me in this manner. Still though, the part that’s uniquely her floods my being, forcing my cock to twitch.