Page 33 of To Ensnare a Duke

Madam Douleur flicks her gaze over to me. "I first caught her scent during the Bawdy Riot a few weeks past. At first, I thought nothing of it. Not until Lord Hardon came into the club. Their scents are not the same, but there's a similar note carrying the two. I thought it was the young man who fled in the commotion, but no. It is his sister. Do I speak falsely?"

Unable to keep the rage from making my fingers tremble, I pace, unwilling to touch her in such a state. "Corner. Now."

Augusta has the nerve to look surprised at my edict. "I beg your pardon-"

"You will beg. By the time I'm through with you, you will beg me to stop. I cannot say if I will or not."

"Now, now, Your Grace," the madam murmurs, resting her hand on my arm. "You cannot damage the girl. She needs to be her best at the upcoming balls. She must make a good impression so you can marry her off and be rid of her hoyden ways."

"You don't understand," Augusta squeaks. "I was just-"

"Corner. Now." My voice is low and controlled, far more than what I feel inside at the moment.

Without another bit of fuss, she flounces over, her steps looking incredibly ridiculous and childlike as she wears a man's attire. From this angle, I'm able to observe the curve of her arse. It's the one thing she wasn't able to mask.

"Is there anything else you require of me, Your Grace?"

"Does Jeremy know?"

"I do not believe so. No doubt he's on high alert from the string of women attempting to gain access to this facility. For prominent men of peerage, your friends have odd tastes in the women they married. To others, she may seem like a scrawny beta male, but to our wizened eyes, we can tell the difference."

She waves a hand over to where Augusta shuffles from one foot to the other. "I must say, though, she does an excellent job of hiding her true gender. No one else has ever taken that much care. In that, I am impressed."

With a heavy sigh, I shake my head. "I only require this room for a short span of time, a knob of unprepared ginger, and a dress she can be taken home in. Nothing conspicuous. I need her to blend in as if I'm taking a lady bird to my home."

"It will be done as you ask."

"Oh, and one more thing." She turns to me, an expectant smile on her lips. "Your discretion is already secured. But if you ever see Lady Hunt's face or take in her scent again, you will not grant her passage into this establishment. You will detain her and send for me if her brother is not back in residence."

"Certainly, Your Grace. As you wish."

The moment she leaves, Augusta turns from her spot, her cheeks red with anger. Not a drop of tear or bit of remorse stains her face. Does she not care then?

Is it because she has no one to champion for? The maid certainly made her sorrowful. It seems as if this headstrong girl only cares for others and nothing of herself. That ends today. Twirling my fingers, I motion for her to turn back around, doing my best to ignore the huff of irritation in her voice.

I do this for her own good. If I dared to take her in hand now, we would both regret it. After a few minutes of silence, the door opens again as Madame Douleur bustles in with a new dress and knob of ginger. Once she slips back out, I lay the dress on the bed and sit on the mattress.

"Come."

The chit has the nerve to stomp over to me, pouting as she crosses her arms. "Will you not allow me to explain?"

Pulling out a penknife, I smirk at her. "You may attempt. But you will do so on your knees."

"You told me a lady never kneels," She retorts.

"Ahhh. But then, you are no lady. At least that's what you wish everyone around you to believe. Kneel. I will not command you again."

The moment she sinks down before me, my cock leaps into action, swelling with need as she blinks up. She seems so docile, so sweet. Such a farce.

"Please. Regale me with how you have no regard for your sanctity and your honor." I cut a notch into the ginger, fashioning the base.

"I do care. I care a great deal. It's just..." She trails off and goes silent.

After a few moments, I shake my head. "It's just?"

"I get so incredibly bored. I can only play an instrument so much. Can only sew so much. Do you know how many times I've practiced my needlepoint?"

"That is simply what ladies must do." She makes a move to rise, but I stop her motion with a glare and flick of my blade. "If you find such tasks disagreeable, then perhaps you could have made more of an effort to learn how a lady runs her house. As the wife of any nobleman, you'd have need of such skills."