Page 13 of A Tale of Two Dukes

She sounds so eager, so honest, and yet I know she’s hiding something. There’s a catch in her throat that speaks to being on the verge of tears, but her actions and words do not mix. Underneath everything, there is still a whiff of hesitancy, a scent of fear that should never accompany someone telling the whole truth. With a heavy sigh, I shake my head.

“Then what does he hold over you?”

Again, she freezes. “Your Grace?”

“You cannot hide the fact that he distresses you.”

“N- no, Your Grace. Apparently, I cannot.”

“Then tell me.”

“I-”

A loud crash sounds to the side of the room, interrupting us. A startled shriek slides from her lips as she burrows her face into my chest. An odd feeling churns in my gut as I wrap my arms around her shaking frame.

I was already feeling possessive before, but the sensation of her putting absolute trust in me to keep her safe turns it into more of an obsession. A feral need to drag her away from any and all threats beats at me.

But it’s insane. I don’t even know the girl, and yet, I’m sorely tempted to align my life with hers. What in the hell has become of me?

CHAPTER 6

Kitty

My pulse thunders in my ears as I grip Birchleigh’s shirt. Just breathing in his scent allows my heart to slow down. Never before have I had a male elicit this particular effect on me. Not even my father possessed the ability to calm me once I was in a tizzy.

There’s something about the duke that calls to me, that begs for me to tell him everything. As safe as I feel with him, as much as my mind screams to just be done with it, the risk is far too great. It’s no longer just me I have to be concerned with, but my family as well.

I cannot, will not, risk them going into ruin because of a moment of weakness. My heart stutters in my chest as indecision wars within me. More than that, the risk of revealing who I am and what I know might cause their death.

My insides quiver as I gnaw on my bottom lip. It would be so easy. Just a few slips of words and all will be revealed. So easy. I know it will lift the weight tying me down, but what of the consequences? Can I really stand by and allow them to come to harm just so I can breathe a little better at night? Can I really trust this stranger?

Besides, listening to the calm, steady heartbeat of the duke as I press harder against him already causes me more tranquility than anything else. If I can just find a way to convince him to see me often, to want my body so much that I can just rest in the soothing heat of his embrace… I’m sure I can hold my secrets.

The clatter, though terrifying, is just what I needed to stop myself from making the worst mistake ever. And to think I almost revealed everything at just a simple behest from his full lips. I’ve only been here a night and already I’m such a wanton.

As a lady, I shouldn’t notice things like his kissable lips or the press of his member against me as he holds me tight. But as a whore, as a worker for Madame Douler, it seems to be expected. I need to be more like these other girls, sighing and simpering at his physique if I want any hope of him making regular visits.

But try as I might, it feels foreign, wrong. I’m stiff and wooden, grasping at his shirt as if it’s the one thing that can save me. I wasn’t trained for this. I don’t know how to play the harlot.

If I thought I could tempt him with my other skills, I would do so in a heartbeat. But up here in front of this audience, my dress cast aside, it’s all the more achingly clear what he wants is the one thing I don’t know how to give.

Sob catching in my throat, I don’t dare look around as he barks out, angry at the intrusion. Like a good little girl, I keep myself still, small, burrowing into the shelter of his arms as he commands the disruptor to be taken out of the room. Though I hope and pray it’s my tormentor, just one sniff tells me he’s still here, still watching, and most of all, still waiting.

Moments go by before Birchleigh slides his fingers under my chin and forces my gaze to his. I blink up at him, my heart resuming its rapid cadence. This time, however, it’s not fear that makes my breath come in quick pants.

The way he looks at me sends tendrils of some unnamed sensation through my limbs, enlivening me. It’s not quite as intense as when he put his lips to my forbidden part, but it’s close enough that everything inside me clenches, and I ache once more.

“Steady, love. I have you. You’re safe with me.”

Those few words do more to me than I can verbally express. Emboldened, I lean up, closing the gap between us. For a moment, our breath intermingles as I brush my lips against his. It’s madness. Insanity. Perhaps this is why Mother was so distraught.

With Father, she was at least married to the man, bound to him. Birchleigh holds no such strings to entrap my person, and yet, I find that I cannot pull away, to shut out the things he causes me to do and feel. I, too, will end up like my mother—bound and unloved. I know it.

Even though I am not a soothsayer, I can see my future stretching out before me. This is but the first step to my destruction. The first footstep toward complete madness. I wish I found it within me to care, to be strong enough to fight it.

However, for the Alpha standing before me, I’m willing to face the fires of perdition. Just for one more feel of his lips against mine. For this, I care not if the world burns away, leaving us two in its wake.

I want.