Page 5 of In Service to the Duke

The man yanks on the reins again, forcing the massive beast to rise and paw the air once more. However, when he comes down on his hooves, it’s far enough off to the side that I seem to no longer be in danger. Grooms pour out from the stables and grab at the bit, drawing an angered snort from the horse’s nose.

With a powerful leap, the owner jumps to the ground, spearing me with those mesmerizing sapphire eyes. This time, I find I’m unable to move for a far completely different reason. Heat infuses my face as he glares down at me, fury radiating from his broad frame.

“What in damnation were you thinking?” he barks out, slapping his crop against the side of his breeches. “Are you wishing to find your life in the hereafter? You were far closer than even you could possibly fathom.”

“I- Your Grace- Please,” I stammer, finally finding the ability to move.

Dipping down in a shaky curtsy, I waver there until his hand wraps around my biceps and hauls me up. Before I can so much as apologize, he drags me toward the manor, not saying a word. He doesn’t have to.

The stench of his fury chokes me, but more than that, it causes the oddest sensations to flow through my body. Some nameless emotion ripples through me, setting my body aflame. Between my thighs, an odd moisture gathers, turning my insides about with fear.

“Please,” I manage to squeak. “I- I think I’m injured.”

He turns to me, his nostrils flaring much like his horse. With his head cocked to the side, his eyes drift up and down, seeking out the potential wound. For a moment, a flash of annoyance flies across his face, but soon morphs into something else, something I have no words for.

Heat creeps up my neck and engulfs my face until I’m sure to be as red as the prettiest rose in Vauxhall Gardens. But even that seems to anger him more. His eyes narrow as he focuses in on my face.

“I see no signs. Where are you hurt?”

I cannot tell him. I dare not even show him. Besides, I’m still unsure as to how I’ve come to be injured when the horse didn’t even touch me. There is no pain that I can discern.

The only ailment is an odd pulsing sensation and the potential for blood to gather at the apex of my thighs. Desperation lances through me as I tug on my arm, distraught when he doesn’t let me go. Again, he looks me up and down, his eyes darkening as he leans in closer.

My heart stops as he sniffs me, then thunders in my brain as he pulls back. Alphas only sniff omegas they’re interested in. At least, that’s what I understood from Mother. But there’s no way someone as mighty as the duke could ever take such an interest in me.

Could my mother’s wishes come true this soon? I wait with bated breath, hoping, praying for him to make some sort of overture. But it never happens. My heart sinks as we stand there in what feels to be an odd stalemate.

I cannot read his expression, for it flits about, far more mercurial than my papa’s has ever been. Blackport is a conundrum; one I am not at liberty to puzzle through. With a sigh, I tug on my arm again, but he continues to hold fast.

“I will attend you,” he growls, turning my legs to quivering. “Everyone in this manor is under my protection, and that includes you. Any injury is mine to ascertain and tend.”

He takes full advantage of my stunned silence and hauls me behind him, dragging me into the house and down a hallway I have yet to traverse. The servants have spoken of this wing in hushed, reverent tones, imparting the knowledge that it belongs to the master. Until now, I have had no need to travel this way, and so I stare at the finery in awe as we pass by.

Blackport, however, doesn’t seem to even notice. No doubt, this is all average and mundane, objects to be dusted and kept pristine. To me, however, they are the greatest treasures of the world. Lucious watercolors and perfectly sculpted statues line the halls, watching us go by.

Though I long to stop and wonder at the craftsmanship, the duke’s unyielding grip drags me forward until we arrive at a looming door. He draws it open and thrusts me inside before locking it behind us. Unease gathers in my gut as he stalks forward, trapping me between him and the desk.

This isn’t right. I’m not supposed to be alone with a man. It’s something which has been drilled into me since practically birth. Pushing away from the massive desk, I try to skirt by him.

He grabs me around the waist and pulls me back, a fierce frown marring his face. Again, that odd bit of warmth gathers below, bringing my mind back to the reason I’m here in the first place. Still though… If anyone knew or caught me.

“You are uneasy.” Again, he scents the air, making my gut clench.

“I- You- I cannot be here without a chaperone.” Once more I pull forward, desperate to escape, but he blocks my path.

“We will not be for long. Besides,” he murmurs, leaning low. “As master of this house, you cannot refuse my command.” His hot breath washes over my skin, and for a moment, the room spins.

Perhaps I’m far worse off than I imagined?

“Please-”

“Begging already? Pretty words will not sway my mind toward mercy. Turn around and grip the desk.”

“But Your Grace. I do not believe my injury is there.”

“Oh, I’m very well aware of that. I intend to impress upon you some much-needed education.”

CHAPTER 3