Page 10 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity
Would she let him?
She almost closed her eyes to better absorb the feeling of his sudden nearness. Desire overwhelmed her, and she thought for certain that he would reach out to her and touch her as the men and women had done at the party.
Margaret had no idea how to respond to a touch like that. She had never been with a man, not the way those couples were with each other. But the Duke had made it clear that he was well-known at those parties. Surely all that practice had… well, made him the kind of man who could open her eyes and show her things she had never dreamed of.
However, he did not touch her. Instead, he opened the door behind her and motioned to the footman who stood nearby as if he had not heard their conversation.
Damn that book club.
Disappointment flooded her at being deprived of his touch while still rejoicing that she had somehow retained her purity in the face of such great temptation. Shewantedto feel his hands on her body, to feel his lips trail down her jaw to her neck.
The nuns had taught her that any kind of stirring like this was wrong. That she needed to repent and pray for forgiveness.
As much as she despised the nuns who taught her, she could not help but realize that their lessons were ingrained within her. How could she even consider his offer?
“He will take you back to Theresa,” he said, walking closer to the door. “I will see you tomorrow. By then, you must be sure of whether you want to make this deal with the Devil, little nun.”
He leaned in and put a hand on her lower back.
“But remember—for as long as you belong to me, you play by my rules.”
Then, he pushed her outside and closed the door behind him, leaving her and the footman to return to Blackwell Manorwithout so much as a second thought—or a touch that would leave her tingling in anticipation of more.
Margaret woke up in her chambers the following morning, unsure whether the previous night had been nothing more than a fever dream. Yet, she found herself more exhausted than she would have been with a good night’s sleep. The events of the evening—the Duke’s offer—had to be real.
Theresa had insisted that Margaret rely on her maids to get ready for the day, but Margaret felt more comfortable doing it herself. Servants were a rarity at the convent, never mind a lady’s maid. She’d need to be turned out in perfect ton style.
She changed out of the threadbare nightgown she had brought from the convent and into one of Theresa’s gowns. The bodice was tight around her ample bosom, but it was remarkably nicer than anything in her trunk, the silky fabric sliding temptingly over her skin.
She supposed that she could borrow it and indulge in vanity for a few more days before she took her vows. Then, it would be austerity and modesty for her forevermore.
Would she even be able to come visit her friend, or would she be tethered to the convent forever?
She had just managed to get into the gown and was trying to figure out how she would do up the back when the maid knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Margaret called, grateful for Emma’s presence.
While she did not want to rely on the assistance of someone else merely to look like a gently bred lady, the elaborate gowns were beyond her experience. She had never had an issue putting on her gown at St. Agatha’s.
Perhaps she could accept just a bit of help.
“Should I braid your hair, My Lady?” Emma gestured to the stool in front of the mirror.
Margaret stooped down to look at her reflection in the glass, a luxury she was not afforded in the convent. There was a price to pay for vanity, or so she was told.
“If it would not be too much trouble for you,” she said, sitting stiffly on the stool.
As Emma braided her hair with expert fingers, making quick work of the knots with a silver-handled brush, Margaret thought of the night she had spent with the Duke of Devishire and his promise to see her today.
Was that why she was willing to accept help to look her best?
No. She simply did not want to embarrass Theresa with her lack of sophistication.
How Theresa had managed to learn all of this and to adjust to life in London was beyond what Margaret could fathom.
“How do you enjoy life here in London, Emma?” she asked.
“It is wonderful, My Lady,” Emma said quietly.
