Page 67 of To Ensnare a Duke

"I insist. I'd much rather you be in attendance for the main event."

"Such a sweet girl. Thank you. I shall take my leave."

We all watch as she exits the room and still pause for several moments until we're sure of her absence. "Come," Catherine cries out as she pats the sofa next to her. "Allow us to prepare you!"

I blink at the four women in front of me as I look between them and the papers in my lap. "And this is accurate?"

"To the best of our combined knowledge,” Teresa says, her expression somber. “Granted, there may be other forms of deviance out there that are not recorded in these drawings, but we do try to update it as we can. Mostly with each new wife comes a new set of drawings. Soon, you will have something to add, I'm sure."

Again, that tendril of heat climbs up my face. How many of these things will Portswell do to me? How many will I want? Turning back to the cross-section of the phallus, my lips screw up in distaste.

"It seems rather large does it not?"

The four giggle but say nothing for a moment.

"In truth," Cynthia blurts out, "I thought this was a tumor at first." She taps on the bulbous portion just below the long shaft. "Thankfully, I was incorrect."

"Thankfully, you saw one and drew it, so we were not so ill-informed,” Teresa giggles, covering her mouth with her delicate fingers.

"Yes," I murmur, turning the drawing this way and that. "I understand the mechanics as you've said, but something that large seems as if it would split me in two." I look further and note a drawing with what looks like an odd, viscous liquid. "And this?"

"Ahhh," Catherine murmurs. "That will be the seed. It comes out of them at their point of release."

"It's all rather sticky and messy if you ask me," Emma chimes in, finally speaking up.

The others turn to her and laugh, joining in agreement. I glance down at my hand, wondering if that was what splashed upon me after my release. My lips curl up into a soft smile as I realize just how far I've pushed the good duke. Seems he's not impervious after all.

"You know what I think," Teresa calls out. "I think we should give Augusta a proper education. It's one thing to see these things in drawings, and quite another to see them in person."

Emma pales and runs her hand over her throat. "We dare not. The dukes-"

"Are out enjoying their stag night," she butts in, cutting her off. "They're drinking, laughing, and enjoying the last night of singlehood. Why can we not do the same?"

"Please," she pleads. "They will be most wroth if they find us gone. Besides… They’ll know."

Teresa gives her an exasperated sigh. "Then we will not be gone that long. Just clear your mind of all thoughts except happiness for the wedding tomorrow. If you feel guilty, then they’ll know. Catherine, are you still on good terms with the madame at The Rose and Thorne?"

As they say the name again, a nagging sensation claws at the back of my head. Yes, that's where Portswell took me… but there's something else. Something about that place. Shrugging it off, excitement fills my being. How long has it been since I've been naughty?

With my upcoming wedding looming, and the threat of not being allowed to release, I've kept myself circumspect. It would be nice to feel the night wind in my hair once more.

"I know a way out that will help us be unnoticed,” I murmur, not fully realizing I spoke out loud.

"Excellent," Teresa exclaims, jumping up and clapping her hands.

"Please listen to reason," Emma cajoles, her eyes wet as if she's about to cry.

Catherine lays a hand on her arm and gives her a warm, kind smile. "You do not have to come with us. If we are to be punished for our actions, it is our will and our will alone."

"But Cynthia and Augusta are still unmarried. Without chaperones…" Distress wafts off of her in waves as she looks at us and wrings her hands.

Teresa links arms with Catherine. "And what are we? It will be fine! Just a quick peek. An education for the newest duchess, and we shall return home. No mess, no foul."

Defeated, she slumps forward and shakes her head. "I suppose we will need thick cloaks to conceal us on our journey."

"Huzzah!" Teresa and Catherine cry out. "It shall be fun. You will see. You must strive to not worry so much!"

"It is not the journey I fear," she murmurs. "It's our backsides if we get caught."