Page 28 of In Service to the Duke

With a pointed look, I angle my head toward my strong-minded sister. “Miss Gillet, while my sisters are attending their lessons, I would like a word with you.”

“Forgive me, Your Grace, but my afternoon is completely filled. Stuffed to the brim, even. I will not be able to reconvene at this time. However, if you were to perhaps leave me a card, I might be able to get back to you at some more convenient date.”

Anger singes away any hospitality I might have for the woman. Beside me, my sisters look on, Margaret entranced with this verbal repartee.

“You dare refuse the summons of a duke?” I growl, the sound low in my throat as it vibrates through the room.

My sisters shiver a touch, not immune to the Alpha command in my voice. Though they are collateral damage, it’s good for them to understand an Alpha’s law is unyielding, especially to governesses who are far too opinionated for their own well-being.

Leaning forward, I lock eyes with Miss Gillet. “Once breakfast is concluded, you will speak with me. I will not hear any other word on the subject.” Turning toward Margaret, I raise my eyebrow, staring her down until she wilts just a touch. “As for you, no more daydreaming about these halls. You will marry a respectable Alpha with a respectable family. Cast such foolish notions of highwaymen and kidnappings out of your head.”

She slumps even further, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Though I may hurt her with my words now, they will do her well as she enters the marriage mart. No sense in allowing her to think she can just run off with whatever rapscallion turns her head first. Damn William and his bloody farce.

All to start his honeymoon off with a bang. And now, I have to deal with the repercussions. I’m sure he never thought of that when he decided to put on his little show in front of the whole family. ‘Kidnapping’ his bride as we took leave toward Whitmore Manor was one of the more idiotic notions he’s ever come up with.

It matters not that my mother enjoyed the lark. It matters not there was no real harm or injury. And it sure as blazes matters not that he’s off gallivanting with his bride while I’m stuck here caring for my family while he enjoys life without any thought or backlash.

On the other side, my youngest sister, Elizabeth, tugs on my sleeve, her eyes large as she looks up at me. “I don’t want to be kidnapped. Please say we’re safe here. I don’t want to speak of such things.”

Patting her hand, I shoot another glare over at Margaret. “You are perfectly safe, my dear. No one can harm you under this roof.”

Margaret, not one to be deterred, gives me a sly smile. “What about when we are out from under this roof?”

This time, I turn my ire back to Miss Gillet. “You see how your speech infiltrates this household? This twisting of words to get a specific result?”

“You can hardly lay that at my feet,” she cries out, indignation etched on every inch of her face.

Instead of enraging me as I expect, it sends a flood of arousal through my veins. This song and dance is very familiar by now, and I know the steps intimately. She is going to make some grand statement, descending into the territory of disrespect, forcing my hand to discipline her.

Leaning back, I stare her down, waiting for the pronouncement to fall from her lips so I may sweep her away and do delicious things with her body. Unfortunately, it seems as she knows the score as well and quiets down in her seat. Pity. I was so hoping to start the morning off with a good thrashing.

After several tense moments, I lean forward again. “Nothing else you wish to add?” I cajole, hoping to raise her ire. “I know you can be quite forceful.”

Her gaze flits between my sisters for a few moments before she looks back at me. “You wish to bait me in front of my wards? What do you play at, Your Grace?”

What I play at is dragging her beneath me, stripping her bare, and smacking her arse until it’s red. Unfortunately, this is not something I can admit even to her in the privacy of my study. It would give her far too much power.

“I wish nothing of the kind,” I lie, taking a sip of bitter coffee to bring me back to the present. “But I applaud your efforts to rein yourself in.” Her nostrils flare, but she stays silent. “Good girl,” I tease with a wink before sitting back.

I’m playing with fire, and I know it. But I can’t help but pester her, drawing out this ire, which eventually gives way to sweet submission. Watching her over the rim of my cup, I note the redness as it crawls up her neck and into her cheeks.

But this isn’t a lover’s flush. It’s anger, pure and simple. I can smell the acrid notes intertwining with the scent of her arousal. It must be so difficult for her to not understand what’s happening to her own body.

I may not wish to be her teacher in all things, but I will certainly take advantage where the opportunities present themselves. Especially now that Mother has taken her under her wing, and I cannot be rid of her. Perhaps I should be the bigger person and simply leave.

Though I’ve never been one to run away from a fight, I feel things are becoming too precarious. Lines have already been crossed that cannot be undone. And the more I’m in the presence of Miss Gillet, the more I want to dive into her heat, to feel the forbidden pleasures I can find buried deep within her quim. Tasting her last night was just a tease, a mere hors d’oeuvre to whet my appetite.

The insanity eats at my brain, eroding my resolve. It’s not a rut. It can’t be. The closest I’ve ever come was when Delilah tried to trap me. And even then, my friends were able to pull me back from the brink before I lost all control.

This is something else entirely—an obsession, a burning lust I cannot seem to extinguish.

Before I can leave, determined to flee back to London before I make an even bigger mess of all of this, she rises in one graceful, fluid motion. My mouth dries as I study the curves of her breasts pressing against the simple fabric. I definitely need to leave. All of this is far too much to handle.

CHAPTER 13

ROBERT

I make no move to stop her as she gives a slight curtsy before exiting the room. Why would I? It’s honestly better this way. Not to mention giving me an excellent view of the curve of her arse just barely pressing out against the back of her dress.