9781618858467ASinfulEducationPimentel (6 page)

“Nonsense.
Henry will see you to the guest wing. I am sure by morning we will all be in
better spirits.”

One can only hope.

* * * *

Emily tossed and turned for what seemed an
eternity. Hearing Lord Avonlea’s voice in the darkness roused her from slumber
each and every time she closed her eyes. Tonight’s turn of events certainly
left a bad impression of what her pending nuptials to the duke would bring.
Even if she confided in her mama of how lewd he was, the woman would never
believe her.

She had never dreamed of the day she would marry,
much less to a duke. His grace, while he was not entirely attractive, had a
charming air about him. Perhaps it was his wealth, or maybe his confidence,
that attracted others into his circle. She would hate to be known as the only
one who did not particularly care for his sexual prowess or finances.

Emily shuddered to think that people actually
enjoyed such demeaning acts. Then the image of that woman on her knees, sucking
hard and fast on her betrothal’s nether regions invaded her mind again. She had
heard of the act plenty of times from attending plays and reading those French
novels her friends had stolen off the headmistress. There were other positions
they’d often joke about as well.

One night, she and the young ladies giggled in the
darkness, when they should have been sound asleep, of how some enjoyed it from
behind. That is, until one of the schoolmistresses had walked in on Agnes
Miller saying she had watched her eldest brother take a woman that way not too
long ago. It had been utterly scandalous!

Several lashings later, Emily had been removed from
the school. And thank heavens her mama had never found out about the discussion,
as Nathaniel had been the one to collect her. While he had been told a more
fabricated version of events, she suspected he knew more than what he led on.

She had always been curious as to what kind of
pleasures a woman could receive. Most of the ones illustrated in those novels
had been for male release, so what did that mean for her? From what she walked
in on, she hardly saw how a woman could enjoy being on her knees, her mouth so
full.
How on earth did a person breathe like that?
So many questions and no one to ask.

Well, there was. But would she really get an answer?
She could not very well ask her brother and his wife. And her mother was out of
the question. Perhaps the answer lie with attending more plays, or maybe even
asking another gent. But who? Even more, how to begin such an inappropriate conversation
without a man taking it as an invitation?

I am an
imbeccile
. No one would believe her. She was a girl, and her only real value was
whether she could bare an heir to his grace’s title.

All these thoughts had her in a tizzy, and she was wide-awake.
Dawn would not be for hours, and her tummy grumbled from not having eaten during
the evening. All in the name of fitting into that ridiculous gown that exposed
far too much of her bosom.

Slipping out of bed and wrapping her robe, she
lifted a candle from the bureau and crept out of her room. The hall was dimly
lit, and the house was asleep. Almost. An old man servant walked the lower
level.

Emily stepped off the final, hardwood step and sat
the candle down on the table against the wall of portraits. She slipped into
the kitchen and knocked on the sideboard to announce her presence. The last
thing she desired was put dear old Duncan in his grave long before his time.

“Lady Emily, I had not been informed of your
arrival here at Stoughton Hall.”

“Well, I imagine not, as I did not arrive until
well after midnight. What has you up at this forsaken hour, sir?”

The old man chuckled. “In my old age, dear, I fear
I do not sleep much. Though, I had come down in hopes of having some warm milk
to help settle my nerves.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful. Could you warm some for
me as well, please?”

Duncan had served here ever since her papa was a
lad. Three generations was a long time to be a servant, and sadly, even having
spent many years in this home, she did not know much about him.
How was it possible to share a house with so many people and never
really know any of them? What a sad state of affairs
. Her mama had spent so much time barking out orders and demands, she
wondered if she even knew their names.

Before she returned home, Emily wanted to get to
know the staff, even spend a little time with her niece and nephew. Up until a
month ago, when her mother had dragged her out of this house, she had not had a
moment to visit the babies at all.

“There you go, young miss. I hope it settles
whatever is bothering you tonight.”

She laughed. Nothing could settle what bothered her
unless her wedding was called off. “That, I doubt, sir, but I am willing to try
anything.”

“If I may speak, miss.”

“Certainly Duncan.”

He gave her a warm smile. “The staff and I heard
through the grapevine you are to be the next Duchess of Downsbury. Is the news
true?”

I wish it were not.
“Yes, it is. Though, I am not confident I am the best choice for the
job. Trouble seems to find me no matter where I go.”

“Well, one cannot argue with that, but I daresay, you
are young and beautiful. What more can a duke ask for other than male heirs.”

“They should be getting an obedient wife, who will
be submissive to the bone. I do not have such talent.” Emily chugged the last
of her drink in the most unladylike manner and rose from her chair. “Duncan, I
think this was just what I needed. If you do not mind, I would like for you to
take me on a walk of the grounds tomorrow. I would love for us to talk some
more.”

“Certainly, miss.”

Chapter Four

The
Earl of Bridgeton stood glaring at the marchioness with shock. His mouth
dropped, and his speech had gone for the moment. “But, my lady, I really should
not be going. Nathaniel should be the one to escort you and Lady Thompson to
Vauxhall.”

“
Pish
posh! It was Nathaniel’s suggestion. He said for you
to ask him if you did not believe me.”

Charles
groaned.
Of all the places to take them.
This, by far, was sure to
be a colossal mistake. If the duke ever found out he was there with Emily, his
grace would have his hide. “Fine. Just this once.”

Considering
Emily had not risen yet for breakfast, he had time to go for a change of
clothes and return. “Does our future duchess know yet?”

“I
imagine not. She only arrived an hour or so before you two. Besides, she’ll be
fine with it, I assure you. She did mention she owed you some kind of apology
for the way her mother behaved, so this outing will provide her with the
opportunity.”

He
had wondered when he would see her next. At least, he knew she would be safe
from the duke’s advances for now. Though Vauxhall’s entertainments were surely
a bad influence, he hoped nothing too shameful would be on display in the
theater. She had already seen far more than she expected in the duke’s care, and
he pondered what her thoughts were on the act itself.

The
pleasure of having a woman’s lips engulfed on one’s cock was incredible. The
warm, slick heat. The constant movement of a tongue swiping, sucking. The
kittenish sounds aroused him.

Heaven help me…
The urge to pull out his
manhood and see to his relief was maddening. Thinking about Emily doing the
same things with her tousled red locks, and her pouty red lips swollen from him
kissing her…
Jesus.
If he kept these thoughts up while he was
on his horse, he would be walking funny by the time he returned to collect
them.

It
was truly a pity he could not find anything to break Lady Thompson and
Downsbury’s engagement. For if he could, he would consider asking for her hand
in marriage. He doubted she would accept his offer after the sham of a
betrothal with the duke, but Charles longed for a woman to challenge him and
make him burn the way she did.

The
gel was high maintenance without a doubt, but she had a certain amount of naiveté
that appealed to his more masculine tendencies. Instructing her would be a
delight. Showing her that not all rakes were total coxcombs and hare-brained
was something he felt she needed to see and experience.

In
all his years of being a bachelor, not once did he
not
take a woman’s pleasure into consideration. Women were not just vessels, but
divine treasures who should be idolized. Loved. These were the things women had
taught him over the years. It was not until he came into his title, did he
learn that the most important rule was that a woman’s pleasure came first.

When
widow Haverford first approached him after he returned to London from Oxford, she
had taught him a wealth of information. For a woman of her experienced years and
eccentric tastes, she had instructed him in order to gain favor.

He was
not one to brag, but over the years, his lady companions complimented him on
his length, girth, and how he used his tongue. While such comments pleased him,
they did not do a thing for the loneliness occupying his days of late. He did
not like the feeling of being used, and while once upon a time he would not
have cared, now life had changed significantly.

However,
all of his thoughts these days focused around Emily. She made him burn.
Nathaniel would have his
arse
if he knew of the
sinful thoughts Charles had about his sister.

Avonlea
stopped outside of his townhouse. His doorman opened the door. “Edward,” he
called out to his butler. “Once I leave, please have a change of clothing
brought over to the Marquess of Stoughton’s manor. I was hoping to be home today,
but the marchioness seems to have other plans.”

“Certainly,
sir. For how many days do you expect to be gone?”

“One,
maybe two at the latest?”

“Very
well, I will have Brandon deliver the items himself after your departure.”

Avonlea
turned to leave just as his butler called, “This came in for you earlier. It
has his grace’s emblem on it. I think you should read it right away.”

Christ
.
What does he want now?
He broke
the wax seal and opened the vellum.

You will stay away
from her. If you do not cease your harassment, I will ensure all measures will
be taken to secure you. Permanently.

She. Is. Mine.

His grace,

Richard William
Waite, the third Duke of Downsbury

Charles
crumpled the paper and tossed it to his butler. “Hastings, the next time you
receive a missive from his grace, do us all a favor and destroy the damned thing
immediately. I am not easily intimidated, and I will not stand for it.”
I
would rather spend time in
Newgate
for assaulting the
duke before submitting to idle threats.

Slamming
his chamber door shut and coming out of clothes, he stood by the washstand,
conveniently stationed near his bedroom window. Standing stark raving naked,
washing his hands and his face, he began to think of Emily. Again. His cock
swelled, and his thoughts drifted to her gown the other night.

The
way the silk had caressed her maidenly curves. The swell of her small, but
perfect breasts revealed she did not need a corset in the least. Easy access.
Perfect. Her beautiful, wavy red hair falling just above them. Sweeping to and
fro, enticing the male eye, and making his blood rush fast and hard.

The
earl caressed his thick, hard cock and pumped.

A noticeable pink swept across her cheeks and down her neck. Would
the rest of her body be pink with arousal? Rosy and pert nipples responded to
the flicks of his tongue, a moan of delight rising from her throat as he worked
between her thighs, lapping up her very essence.

He
could barely maintain his stance without using his left hand to grip the washstand.
He was so close to release.

He would swipe his tongue until she loosed all her juices.
Dripping, sopping, glorious honey. He would rise above her and fuck her until
she cried out his name. Charles. Charles.

Breathless
and mindless, Avonlea came. Jets of his seed hit the side the basin as he tried
to regain control of his own passion. The woman drove him mad, and she had not
the faintest idea of what she did to him. Perhaps he should tell her and see
what her reaction would be.

Would
she run, or would she embrace him? But they would never be as long as her
mother was in the picture. And there was not a damned thing he could do about
it.

Using the water from the washstand, he cleaned up
any evidence of his release and changed his clothes. Vauxhall would be
interesting, and he would be lucky if he survived being in the same carriage
with her.

* * * *

Emily
hummed for most of the ride to Vauxhall in the carriage, while her
sister-in-law prattled on about the twins. She and his lordship laughed at the
fact that her brother had stayed home, but when the subject waned, all returned
to silence until they arrived at the venue.

Charles
cast glances at her and genuinely smiled at Isabel’s prattling. But every once
in a while, he stared down at his lap and fumbled with his fingers. He gulped
hard and exhaled, as if he were deep in thought about something tremendously
serious. She would give anything to know what had him so engrossed.

“If
you do not mind my saying, I am dying to see the theater. It has been some time
since I was here, and I really wanted to see it the first time around.”

They
both looked at the marchioness in astonishment, when Emily piped up. “Well now,
if you and my darling brother had not been so busy with your own scandal, then
I would not have the world’s loveliest niece and nephew.”

Isabel
cast an amused glance at Lord Avonlea, and he put up his arms. “The lady said
it, not I.”

When
the carriage came to a halt at the entrance, Emily carefully watched the earl exit
and hold out his hands to each of them. Isabel descended first then she, but
something strange happened when they touched. His fingers lingered a moment,
and he gave hers a gentle squeeze.

Her
heart leapt at the sensation, which flowed right down to her toes. Fortunately,
they were covered in her slippers, or someone would sure notice them curling.
She observed a change in him since the last time they had spoken at the ball.

Emily
hooked her arm with Lady Isabel and dragged her toward the theater, his
lordship following closely behind. They entered and were greeting by a portly
and aged doorman.

“Welcome,
Lady Thompson, Lord Avonlea. And who might this darling young woman be?”

Emily
flushed. She did not hear compliments all that often, and found it delightful
someone had called her a woman without being crass. “I am Emily Thompson, sir.
Lady Thompson’s sister-in-law.”

“Forgive
my ignorance, miss. Shall I have one of my lads escort you to the balcony?”

“I
believe I know the way, sir. Thank you for asking.”

The
earl led the way, and she and Isabel trailed after. Emily’s heart raced as her
eyes followed the curve of his lordship’s bottom. This had been the first time
she had looked at him so thoroughly, and her imagination ran wild.
What
would he be like? Touching me the way Downsbury did
? Would
he be gentle and soothing, or would he be gruff and callous? His thighs were
thick and shapely in his riding breeches, and she wondered what his bare back
would look like.

An
unfamiliar warmth crept up her back, and seared her cheeks. Wicked thoughts of the
two of them in an intimate embrace. Emily shook her head. Even viewing that
woman on her knees with her soon-to-be-husband, she had barely caught a glimpse
of his grace’s appendage.
Do they all look the same? What does Lord
Avonlea’s look like?
Her face burned once again as the scandalous musings
returned.

When
they reached their balcony, Isabel entered first, then she, followed by Charles.
He sat next to her.

“Are
you all right, Emily? You look piqued,” Isabel asked as she turned.

“Oh,
I am quite fine.”

“Are
you sure, Miss Thompson? I can arrange for a glass of water to be brought up,” his
lordship queried.

“Nonsense.
It is a tad warm here, so I shall rectify the situation by removing my shawl.”
Good
lord. If they only knew what has me so out of sorts.
The
musicians finished tuning their instruments when the actors came out.

“Excuse
me. I do believe I need to use the…convenience,” Isabel whispered into her ear.

“Shall
I accompany you?”

“No,
dear. Sit and watch the play. I shan’t be but a few minutes.” Isabel tapped her
shoulder and slipped through the curtains.

She
was finally alone with Lord Avonlea, but would he indulge her questions, or
would he find them too scandalous and report to her brother?
No, he
would never do that. Nathaniel would shoot him.

“Is
her ladyship well?” he asked.

“Yes,
she is fine. She’ll be along momentarily.”

“Are
you enjoying your outing so far, Emily?”

She could
not pay attention to anything other than the fact the gentleman next to her
roused her curiosity perilously. “Yes, my lord. Pray, Lord Avonlea, would you
mind indulging my ignorance for a moment?”

His
eyebrows shot up, and he cleared his throat. “What is on your mind?”

“Do
you recall that night at the ball when I confided in you? About what that woman
was doing to his grace?”

“Yes.”
She noticed his body tense.