Page 59 of To Ensnare a Duke

CHAPTER 27

AUGUSTA

Ipace the hallway as I study the menu. Not that I can make any changes to it now. Still though, until this very moment, I didn't realize just how much pressure it would be to serve the dukes and duchesses dinner. Aunt Amelia usually handled all those types of things.

Blast Portswell and his insistence that I take the lead. But then, it makes sense. I am soon to be his wife, Duchess of Portswell. I'll need to know how to do these things.

My heart pounds in my chest as I drop to sit on the stairs. Shocked, my aunt fusses over me, asking if I'm in need of a doctor. No, blast it all. I'm not in need of a doctor. At least, I don't think a doctor can assist what truly ails me.

Portswell strides into the area and looks at me, his eyebrow raising as he drops to his knee. "You seem rather pale."

"Pale?" I spit out. "Pale? That's all you can say?"

Next to me, Aunt Amelia wrings her hands and looks between the two of us. "Now, dear, the good duke-"

"Oh, I know what he's on about," I snap out, my nerves finally reaching the end point.

"Do you now?" he buts in, his voice all dark and gruff, and simply divine. "And I simply wanted to give you the opportunity to play the duchess before we say, 'I do.’" The way his tongue lingers on the word play sends shivers of need up and down my spine.

Can someone expire from having their carnal needs so denied? I've not heard of such, but then, it's untoward to look into such matters. My fingers tremble as I do my best to catch my breath.

Any words being spoken sound muffled, as if hearing them from under water. It's not until Portswell grabs my arm and helps me up that I realize he's even talking to me.

"Do you need to lie down? You really don't look well, my dear. Perhaps a bit of dark and cool rag before the others arrive will set you to rights."

His tone brooks no argument. No doubt the cad wishes to see me in private and address my outburst where he can punish me again. My core tightens as arousal creams my inner thighs. His nostrils flair for a moment before he pulls away. The bastard certainly knows what effect he's having on me.

"Yes," Aunt Amelia agrees, shooing me up the stairs. "I'll send your lady's maid anon."

"No need. I can manage a cool rag on my own. I simply wish for a moment of peace and quiet."

"Very well. I'll send someone to fetch you when it is time to greet your guests."

Mumbling my thanks and excuses, I go up the stairs, feeling the heat of Portswell's gaze upon me. As I turn onto the landing, I hear him make his excuses as well. Just as I thought.

As much as I want to crawl into bed and hide away from everything, I know I have to face him. Minutes tick by, and eventually, he slips in through the secret entrance.

"Is your door secured?"

"As it is always."

"Good. Now, care to tell me what these outbursts are about? Are your stays too tight? Can you not get a full breath?"

"No, Your Grace. It's not that. I… I…"

"You… You… Let me guess, you're beyond fractious and need a bit of assistance?"

"Please," I blurt out, keeping my voice low so as to not attract attention. "It's been so long since I've last had a release, and with each night you build the torment up so much more. I cannot take another minute."

"Oh?" He grins and slides his arm around my waist, pulling me forward. "You cannot take one more night? And here I thought you were far stronger than that."

I scowl at his obvious bait. "I might be able to if you weren't making it all worse."

"Really?" His voice drops an octave, sending a shudder through my body. "I'm making it worse? Shall I make it better then?"

My breath catches in my throat as I note the heat in his gaze. "You… You said."

"I know what I said. A man can have a change of heart, can't he? Besides, I can't have you all frenetic around my friends. They already suspect foul play between us. Lie down on the bed and spread your legs. I'll make you see heaven before dragging you into my lair of hell tomorrow night."