Page 12 of In Service to the Duke

The way he studies me, like a bug under a magnifying glass, makes me want to squirm away from him. But he’ll see it. Somehow, I know he’ll always see it. And with that thought, another bit of heat races through my system like liquid fire threatening to choke me.

Blackport winks as he tips his nose in the air before turning serious once more. This is no longer a game of wits between the two of us. With one wrong word, he can have me cast out, forcing me to trudge back home to my mother with my proverbial tail between my legs.

Clearing my throat, I grab my cup of tea and sip on it, allowing myself a moment to collect my thoughts. “It was your mother’s wish, and who am I to go against what she expressly decrees? To my knowledge, he’s up to date on all the new steps. Your sisters have been blossoming under his instruction.”

“And you? Have you been taking meticulous notes as well?”

There’s an odd note to his voice; one I cannot place. For all my knowledge of the season and how to behave as a proper lady should, there’s still that gap in my education when it comes to the way of men. For a moment, I wish I could put all proprietary aside and beg the duke to instruct me in these ways kept far from us, but to do so would also be to give into my mother.

I cannot allow her to win. Not in this. She may want her claws to dig into a man of the peerage, but I can refuse to allow it to happen through me. I do not wish losing the comfort I find in the dowager duchess in search of money for the woman who birthed me. Rising, I give a curtsy to the duke and head out to join the girls.

However, as I reach the door, he grabs my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. “I wish to see what you have learned.”

Dread slithers into my gut like lead, making the paltry bread and butter churn as I look up at him. His expression is deadly serious. Though I excelled in dance when my mother first prepared me for my coming out, it’s been long since I’ve had a partner.

Watching the girls twirl about makes my heart both happy and heavy. The joy and elation on their faces mirror what mine had been before my hopes were dashed so violently. Even now, as they trot about, mimicking the moves, I feel a sense of ennui.

The fact this taskmaster of a duke wants to test me, to see my performance, is only for his benefit. It’s not to allow me to joyously take to the dance floor once more. No. It’s so he can judge me and pick everything apart… just like my mother.

Doing my best to be gracious and not give into the anger and hurt swirling in my heart, I take a moment before I respond. “Your Grace, this moment is for your sisters,” I murmur, lowering my gaze to the floor. “Mine has already passed.” However, try as I might, I cannot keep the bitterness out of my tone.

Judging by the stern scowl on his face, Blackport hears it. And once again, I have failed whatever standard he’s set for me. A heavy sigh pushes past my lips as I walk over to the girls, but he will have none of it. Coming again behind me, he stands there, the heat of his body scalding me through my dress.

“Margaret, you will play for us. I would much like to see how far you’ve come with Miss Gillet at the helm of your studies.”

I freeze. The pianoforte is one of the few areas Lady Margaret finds herself lacking. Despite the work I’ve done with her, she just cannot excel at this task. Though she’s simply splendid in other areas of life, this one seems to elude her.

No doubt Blackport will find this mar against her so unseemly as to want to take out his ire on me. Despite the worry causing my limbs to tremble, the lower half of my body seems to be quite enthused at being at his mercy once more. It’s madness. Pure and simple.

“Allow me to play, Robert,” Lady Elizabeth pipes up as she hurries over to the instrument.

“No,” he bites out, pinning me with a glare. “I wish to see how Margaret has improved.”

Sullen, the older girl tromps over and sits down, so very unladylike it causes me to cringe. “You know I haven’t improved,” Lady Margaret bites out. “You only want to point out my failings. And so, I will refuse your request.” With a deep scowl, she bangs her fingers against the keys, sending a discordant sound into the room.

Both Lady Elizabeth and I cringe. The need to cover my ears is strong, but to keep from drawing further attention to the situation, I force myself to hear it. Blackport, on the other hand, seems to have no patience for his sister’s childish antics.

Storming over to the pianoforte, he grabs the bench Lady Margaret sits on and yanks it backward, pulling her away from the instrument. Her unladylike shriek causes my heart to plummet. But how could I prepare for something like this?

The duke glares at me, his brows furrowed so tightly they almost touch. “Miss Gillet,” he growls, so low and deep it’s nearly a purr. “I will have an answer to this travesty.”

CHAPTER 6

ROBERT

I don’t give a damn if my sister is hopeless on the pianoforte. It is a finishing governess’ job to ensure she’s ready for the marriage mart. Either she’s not pushing her hard enough, or she’s so lacking in skill that she cannot help my dear Margaret.

And then there’s this attitude to answer for. My mischievous sister takes note of my distraction and makes her way back over, dragging the bench behind her. At least this time she acts as if she’s playing instead of merely bringing her fingers crashing down, playing the same sets of notes over and over.

What has gotten into her? Wonderment freezes me to the spot as I watch the defiance in her body as she bangs away on the keys. Before I left, Margaret was a handful, but manageable. Now, she’s neither feral. What could have happened in such a short time?

Perhaps it’s our mother’s illness, but even so, she will have to learn to carry on in her absence. This blatant disregard for propriety will not stand, and I will have an answer. Striding over to where Margaret hunches over the keys like some gremlin or gargoyle guarding the estate, I grip her arm and haul her up, ignoring her unladylike squeak as I unseat her.

Miss Gillet will have plenty to answer for when I get her back into my study. I nearly audibly groan at the very thought of bending her over, taking her to task for the dissidence of my sister, turning this governess into the perfect whipping girl. Oh, but the delicious howls she will make.

Thankfully, my errant cock is easily quelled by the presence of my sisters. Without them here, I’m not sure what I would do to this omega who playacts at being accomplished while teaching my sisters nothing. As it is, the desire to both fuck and thrash Miss Gillet rides on that razor’s edge. So sharp that it very well may slice us both.

With another snort, my eldest sister jerks her arm out from my grasp and huffs away, sulking in a nearby chair. It’s as if she’s gone completely backward from where she was mere months ago. This must be Miss Gillet’s doing. No one else. I refuse to believe worry over our mother would cause this sort of reaction.