Page 3 of A Tale of Two Dukes

She spoke very little to me of what happened between a man and a woman, but there was no hiding the mark that marred her neck and shoulder. A mark borne of true love. And yet, somehow, this magical mark in all its dubious properties wasn’t enough to keep my father tethered at home where he belonged.

From my understanding, once a person is marked, they’re tied to the other for life. Eternity. From the moment I learned of it, girlish fantasies and notions assailed my mind, conjuring my own marriage and consequent mark. But as time went on, I saw the truth for myself.

Nothing can tie another person if it’s not their desire. As much as my mother did her best, Father always left. It dashed any remaining dreams I had for a love match. If they couldn’t make it, how could I?

Nodding, I lower my lashes. “The Gilded Garden,” I repeat, shame flooding through my body at the secret I harbor deep in my soul.

Madame Douler’s eyes narrow into slits as she pulls back from me. Blast. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps I truly don’t know anything.

“The Gilded Garden. You’re sure?” Not trusting myself to speak, I simply nod my head. “Then I must have a prize indeed if you left their employ to seek mine. Tell me, are you well versed in the art of being a pleasure slave then?”

“One of the best. Men would drop no small amounts of coin for a taste of my quim.” I keep my exterior calm, collected, but inside, I long to scream out that I know nothing.

I’m as innocent as they come. The only thing I know about men are things I gathered from the girls as they spoke openly about their conquests. In truth, however, one day is certainly not enough time to learn what is needed.

There’s something in the madame’s eyes as she looks me over, a possible knowing. But then, if she knew who I was, surely we wouldn’t play this farce. Again, I question everything as a slight smile tilts her lips.

This is a place of employment, despite how demeaning it is. More than likely, she’s more concerned about the coin than my parentage. If I were in her place, I’d want to ensure no young upstart cost me any more than they had to.

“We shall see,” she murmurs, gliding over to me. “All my girls are the best at what they do. You’ll have to work hard to keep up with them. I will allow you on for a trial basis, but mark my words, you will be no use to me if you cannot keep up with the high demands of this establishment. Now then, lie over here on this table and I will examine you.”

CHAPTER 2

Kitty

Examine me? Is the madame a physician as well as the owner of a brothel? It would make sense to have someone on hand for emergencies; however, I have never heard of a woman being allowed in the hallowed halls of medicine, much less one who owns such an establishment as this.

My heart races as I lie down and slide my fingers over my stomach to clasp them, as if in prayer. It’s the only thing that keeps my hands from sliding either up or down to cover unmentionable parts of my anatomy. More than likely, it would give me away that I was an innocent and not some grand whore as I purport myself to be.

Willing calming breaths, I think about the last time I was forced to be examined. Though it was more for my lungs than anything to do with my body. And I remained in my night rail to keep covered as the kindly gentleman looked me over.

It was nothing like this. I was home, safe, warm in my bed with my mother and sister next to me. Here, I’m alone, naked, without any sort of friend or comfort to see me through.

Tears threaten to prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I chose this path. I can’t protect my family and yet fall apart at the first sign of discomfort. And so, I force my mind to leave the scene set before me and onto brighter, happier memories.

But, no matter what, I’m unable to keep things separated as the female Alpha skims her hands up my arms and over my shoulders, dipping down to cup my breasts. Haggard breaths slip past my lips as her thumbs brush against the taut peaks of my nipples, stirring a sensation in me I’ve never felt before.

“Ahh,” she whispers, bending low enough that her lips skim my ears. “So you like the touch of another woman. Good. Our men occasionally love a good show of flesh as women please each other.” She pulls away as my mind reels, attempting to make sense of her strange speech. “Spread your legs.”

“My- My what?” I glance up at her, my stomach coiling into knots.

“You heard me,” she growls, loosening every bone, every muscle in my body until my knees part of their own accord. “Next time, obey me the first instant, or you will suffer the consequences.”

Bending down between my thighs, she plucks and prods, sliding her thumbs up and down my womanhood, spreading me open to her questing gaze. Heat engulfs my face as I pray for the ground to open and swallow me.

She touches me in a way that no one ever has. I haven’t been so bold, even when cleaning. But the things she does send jolts of pleasure through me until I nearly bow up with want.

“Such a responsive little thing. Surprising that you haven’t lost your sensation, seeing as you are such the accomplished whore.”

Her words shame me, reminding me of my place now. It’s an occupation I never dreamt I’d work at, but here, now, with her fingers sliding into my opening, I can’t help the sob that catches in my throat.

Suddenly, she stills, pulling her fingers back as she spears me with a fierce glare. “You liar,” she spits out. “You’ve never even known a man.”

“I- How?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? That I was born just yesterday?” Standing, she makes her way over to a basin to cleanse her fingers from my body, shaking her head as she paces. “I knew something just wasn’t right about your story. Not when you mentioned The Gilded Garden.”

“I did-”