Page 27 of To Ensnare a Duke

"And if I don't wish to be? If I want to remain broken?"

"You know not what you ask."

My aunt snorts for a moment, breaking the spell around us. Glancing over, I watch as she peers at us. She thumps her cane on the ground and gives a loud harrumph, ruining any chance I have at enticing the duke.

Sliding off the bench, I motion for him to take my spot. "If you think you can do better than me, Your Grace, then by all means."

The smirk he gives me makes my heart flutter. It's full of confidence and swagger, like a man who knows exactly what he's doing and can do it well. Though I know him to be an adequate player, perhaps he's grown in the moments we were away?

As he sits down at the pianoforte, his fingers graze the keys in a loving, almost reverent way. They mimic the way he touched my skin after leaving the welts on me. I squirm, my nerves raw as he strokes them, the music playing on my skin with each skillful note. My insides ache as every muscle clenches.

The sonata pours out into the room, the melancholy notes bringing tears to my eyes. Compared to him, I am indeed inadequate. Even my aunt, who seems to abhor most music, tears up, her gaze enraptured as she gazes upon the duke. I knew I had feelings for him before, but hearing the emotion dripping from him as he plays… It's a sensation I never knew before.

As he finishes, he looks over at me, his gaze hooded and dark. "Continue to practice. Your playing is good enough for the common man." He stands and looms over me. "But you are not suited for anyone common. If you are to catch the gaze of someone worthy of you, you will continue to improve."

With a click of his heels and a nod to my aunt and me, he strides out of the room, taking his intoxicating scent with him. How I long to follow, to tell him he's good enough for me. Unfortunately, such things are not done. Not for a lady, at least.

If he really wanted me, he'd make an overture to my brother or perhaps my aunt. But he hasn't so much as said a word. At least not out loud. He's communicated through sighs and gazes, but that isn't enough. Not in the eyes of society.

Damn them. And damn him in particular. Sitting back at the pianoforte, I turn the pages, flipping through until I land upon Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Perfect for my current mood and practicing putting my emotions into my playing. I'll show him. I'll show all of them.

CHAPTER 14

BENEDICT

Annoyance flits through my veins like razor-sharp knives slicing through my skin. Even as I sit at my pianoforte, banging against the keys, I cannot drive that wench from my mind. Her large eyes as she looked up at me, practically begging me to break her, still haunts me at every turn.

Now, I understand why Lord Hardon was so insistent I refrain from pursuing his little sister. She's not a good fit for me. She's too impressionable, too innocent. Most of all, she's too much of a liability.

Glancing over at the edge of the instrument, I growl as I spy the older correspondence I left there to mull over after each rousing piece. No outward threats, as of yet, but knowing Augusta's brother is also in the crosshairs makes the little omega all the more able to be a pawn in this coward's games.

It's what keeps me grounded. It's what keeps my cock firmly in my grasp instead of using the warmth of her body to coax it to life. Most of all, it's what keeps me in my own house instead of hers.

The meeting today should have never happened. I shouldn't have allowed my curiosity to propel me to her doorstep. In no sane world did I need to see if she still squirmed as she sat or if the pain had dissipated, allowing her to sit pretty. Though she was a vision at the pianoforte, it was a sight I need not behold for my own sanity.

With a crash of my fingers against the keys, I stand and pace, snatching up the correspondence so I can read it once more. My desperation to ascertain the sender's identity eats at me almost as much as the need to lay my hands on Augusta's pert backside again. Somehow, this girl has wormed her way into my fascination, and she refuses to let go.

But the chit is far too unknowing for her own good. It's what led her to the misfortune three days prior. Unfortunately, I cannot teach her. To do so would feed right into the blackguard’s schemes. Though the missive doesn't clearly state that our houses are being watched, it can be understood.

What happens if, in her naïveté, she does something even worse? If I write to her brother and inquire as to my course of action, it will not only put him on the defensive as far as she's concerned, but he might then turn his ire to the little omega whose only crime it was to care about the fortunes of others. Bugger, what a conundrum.

Grabbing a small glass, I tip my decanter into it, watching the amber liquid swirl about before I down it in one gulp. The burn feels like hell while giving me just a small glimpse of heaven. A growl rips from my throat as I slam the glass back down and begin to pace anew.

Just as I cannot tell him of her indiscretion, I also cannot tell him of my burgeoning feelings for the girl. Especially not when they're so carnal in nature. The things I want to do to her are not fit for God's ears, let alone her brother's.

I need air. I need air and a calm head. Unfortunately, with my friends occupied, I cannot find such at their residence. As much as a bout at The Rose and Thorne would probably help set me to rights, I find myself unwilling to go and subject myself to the false air of innocence plaguing the girls.

Especially not when I have such a beguiling example, just begging me to tutor her. Groaning, I grab my jacket and head out into the chilly night. Only one thing will help quell this restless longing. At least, I can only pray it takes the edge off.

The streets of nighttime London feel almost like home as I walk amongst the denizens, sinking into the inky blackness. Women hock their wares, men look around for some bout of mischief, and music pours out of windows and doors, ushering me into the darker parts of this lovely city.

One place calls my name tonight, however, and it's a gaming hell I frequented before discovering the joys of the flesh. My feet traverse the familiar path as calmness drips over me, like starlight descending from the heavens to illuminate my soul. It's time I reclaim my mantle and don on my birthright as one to not be trifled with.

My father, his father, and his father before that, all played here. Namely, its location is far more desirable than others. It's close enough to the heart of London to be easily accessible by the nobility but common enough to let loose some inhibitions and simply enjoy the art of gambling. The Ton and Beau monde alike mix and mingle, sprinkled in with those middle class who think themselves to be able to play as fiercely as we do.

Unfortunately, many are robbed of their coin, only joining us more elite to see and be seen. With their inexperience, lack of knowledge, and lack of finesse, they soon find themselves in dire straits, beholden to men far less charitable than me. It is, however, a place for me to apply my mind to some other task other than how to grab hold of the one woman I cannot have.

As I step through the doors, my heart pounds in excitement as I glance about at all the familiar faces. Apart from The Rose and Thorne, this really is my second home. Perhaps now that many of my friends have fallen by the wayside with families to attend to, I can re-cultivate some kinship here.