Page 31 of In Service to the Duke

“Stuff and nonsense,” she chides, narrowing her gaze. “The girls are well handled with Miss Gillet, and I am being looked after by a renowned physician. You needn’t worry over me.”

And yet, as her words leave her lips, she huddles onto her side, a hacking cough shaking her delicate frame. She pulls the handkerchief away from her lips, but not quick enough for me to see the telltale signs of crimson staining the snow-white linen.

Things are certainly worse than I thought. Anger burns through me as I pull myself away from the bed and pace. “Bringing you to the country was supposed to heal you, to get you better. If you were strong enough, I’d bring you back to London.”

“And for what?” she cries out. “To be around all those people crowding every available space? I’m far more content at home, where it’s quiet.”

And where you can die in peace, I supply in my brain. “This simply won’t do. This physician-”

“Robert,” she murmurs. “It is enough.”

“It is not enough until I say it’s enough,” I roar, unable to stop the impotent rage from flowing from me.

In her defense, she doesn’t even flinch. All she does is give me a wan smile and shake her head. “You are so like your father,” she whispers. “Strong-headed in all ways.”

“Is it wrong I wish to see you live a long, full life? Can you fault me?”

“No, my son. I cannot. But I wish you would turn your anger away from me and my illness and allow your heart to make room for another. It is time you find a bride.”

“Damn a bride,” I cry out, not caring what I say as long as it keeps her with me longer.

“Robert Clyde Dowding,” she snaps out, all traces of weakness gone. “You will mind your tongue in the presence of a lady.” And just as if it never happened, she sinks back into the pillows.

“Forgive me, Mother. If it is your wish for me to find a bride, then I will endeavor to do so.”

With a brisk nod, I turn on my heel and storm out of the room. It is not anger at being saddled with a bride which forces me to storm down the hall toward my study, but at the helplessness I’m forced to feel every time I interact with my mother. I’m so used to being in control, and yet… And yet, I’m losing her.

Throwing open the door to the one place I can have solace, I stop short as a familiar face looms into view. Miss Gillet balances precariously on the edge of my desk as she reaches up to some of the older tomes I have on the shelves. Her fingers skim the fragile spines as she rocks back and forth, nearly toppling over.

“What in the blazes are you doing in my study?” I growl out, slamming the door behind me.

She squeaks and nearly falls as one of the precious volumes drops to the floor. For a moment, I cannot see as emotions ricochet through me, blinding me with fury and sorrow in equal amounts. Turning, I lock the door, determined no one will stop me from what I’m about to do.

CHAPTER 14

ROBERT

My heart seizes as I watch her balance there, her body swaying precariously. Has she no concept of keeping herself safe and well? Does this girl wish to be injured?

It’s enough to make my stomach churn. One of these days, something will happen, and I will not be there to assist her. It’s that dreadful knowing which fills my soul with terror and makes my body vibrate with an unholy fury.

“I- I’m sorry,” she cries out. “I’m so sorry. I-”

“Silence,” I snarl, cutting off her babbling.

Storming over to the desk, I snatch the book from off of the floor and set it somewhere safe before wrapping an arm around the back of her legs and tipping her over my shoulder. Her soft shrieks of protest as she pummels my back with her tiny fists only stir my arousal.

I want her to fight. Hell, I want to fight back. I want to tussle, to slam her into the floor and strip away every scrap of clothing until she’s bared to my gaze. She twists and turns, her body writhing in my grasp as I take her over to a nearby settee.

Without my ropes, I’m unable to restrain her after I plop her down onto the firm surface, but I make do. Pinning her down with my bulk, I bring my lips close to hers. Propriety be damned. Right now, I hurt too much to even think.

At the first brush of my lips against hers, electricity rocks my body. It sizzles through me, making my brain stop thinking anything coherently. This goes beyond lust. What I feel for this omega is savage, feral, and without restraint.

Her fingers dig into the front of my waistcoat as desperation coats the air between us. She undulates under me, like a cat in heat. In a similar fashion, soft, distressed mews flit from her lips as she crashes them into mine. Her movements are erratic, untrained, and wholly innocent.

It’s intoxicating, a drug far more potent than even opium. I could lose myself in the soft caresses of her mouth as she seeks mine out. Grabbing her head, I hold her still as I slant my lips over hers, giving her an education forbidden to me.

A groan passes between us as I swipe my tongue against the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. On her soft sigh, I slip in just the tip of my tongue, enough for her to feel me tasting her. She moans and fists the fabric in her hands as she presses her body against mine.