9781618858467ASinfulEducationPimentel (9 page)

“Your grace.
My lady.” The man bowed and stepped aside.

Emily could
not believe what she was looking at. The bedchamber was equipped with what had
to be the largest platform bed she had have ever seen. Extravagant linens and
silk hung down from the canopy. “Good heavens! Is this my room, your grace?”

“It is
indeed. I take it you approve? I, of course, understand your demeanor is of
contrast to how modestly you’ve been living as of late. Though, I assure you,
you will be very comfortable here. Now come along, there is another suite I
would like to show you.”

She followed
the duke to the end of the hall where another footman bowed then opened the
doors. The room’s elegance far exceeded her own. While the bed appeared to be
the same in size, the bureau, desk, and the remainder of the furniture were
ornately decorated. She suspected she was in his grace’s bedchambers. “It is
quite large, your grace.”

“I know. Not
that I need your approval, but I am glad you think so.”

He slipped
in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. A chill crept up her spine,
and her skin broke out in goose flesh. She could not have been more disgusted
and repulsed by his behavior. His hands wandered up the front of her bodice,
stopping at her bosom. He grabbed both her breasts, kneading them hard and
making her uncomfortable at how alone she truly was in the moment.

“Have you
given my offer any consideration, Emily? Would you like to stay here until we
are married? That way I can educate you when we are alone on how I would like
things done.
Mmm
. I rather like the idea myself and
grow hard at the mention.”

She tried to
pull away, but his grace was determined to keep her in his embrace. Then, he
released one arm and pulled up her skirts.

“Please
stop, your grace. This is wrong. I do not want to marry you!” Emily struggled
to pull away from his strong grasp. Yet
everytime
she
pulled back, he leaned in further and harder.

The duke
released her, taking her by the hand and leading her deeper into his chambers.
She soon found herself staring at a wall of beautiful but nude artwork. “These
pieces, I had personally commissioned. They’re stunning, and very well depict
some of my true passions. There is much to be learned with the carnal
pleasures. Once we are together, I plan on taking you every way shown in all
the scenes.”

She covered
her mouth to silence her gasp. Some portrayed numerous women pleasuring one man
at the same time. Another was an exact replica of the compromising position she
had walked in on nights ago.

Emily felt the
duke’s heated presence behind her. When she stopped at the next painting, she
stumbled back in horror. Heat burned her cheeks. “Good Lord! The men in that
painting… How is it even possible for a woman to accommodate so many? You say
these pieces were commissioned? Where were they painted? These should be
confiscated!”

He sneered.
“Are you shocked, my dear? Most excellent… These were all painted by
individuals who consented to the acts. I do believe they were all done at a
local establishment where your beloved earl frequents.”

How can he say such lies?
His lordship
would never stoop to such depths of depravity. “I have had quite enough of
this, your grace. I am disgusted, embarrassed, and thoroughly shocked.”

He simply
laughed. “Get used to it my dear, for once we are wed,
it
is my expectation that you will master each of those positions. Of that you can
be certain.”

Emily’s
stomach lurched, and she began to feel faint. Tears fell mercilessly, and his
grace only smirked at how
sucessfully
he held her. “Please,
your grace, we’ve tarried long enough.”

He released
her after chuckling hard, but just as quickly as he let go, he spun her around to
she
face him. The duke lifted her chin and secured her
so she could not move. “I will not be denied, Emily. You may not live here
right now, but when you leave after dinner, the arrangements will commence. The
sooner you are deflowered, the better, and the easier it’ll be for both of us. I
have big plans for you, but you need instruction first.”

His grace finally
removed his hold. “Stay if you want, but if you remain any longer you will not
be permitted to leave my chambers anytime soon.”

Emily ripped
away. She flew out the door and ran as fast as she could until he caught up
with her. She turned to him. “I will not be thusly humiliated. If it is all the
same to you, I would rather we waited until the marriage bed. Besides, you have
not even proposed yet, and just so we are clear, I refuse!”

The duke
growled. “You insolent girl! Who do you think paid for that dress you are
wearing? You will do exactly what I say, when I say it, and whom with. Am I
understood? You are mine. There is no way out of this contract, whatsoever.
Once you give me an heir, I will have no other use for you, and you will be
free to do as you want. But, until then, I will fuck you as I want, how I want,
and as many times as I want.”

And there it
was. Her future husband, the Duke of Downsbury, talking like a bounder from
Covent Garden trying to solicit his soiled doves to the patrons.
Avonlea, I need you now.

* * * *

Charles had
left White’s with Wycliffe hours ago, but when he returned to his townhouse, he
could not stop thinking of what his friend had said. His imagination ran
rampant with wild and completely impossible things.
But were they entirely impossible given what Wycliffe had discussed of the
nature of the threats the former duchess received?
There had to be some
truth.

First thing
in the morning, he had visit the magistrate and conducted his own
investigation. One, he hoped, would bring down shame and scorn upon the duke.
If he could find a way to have the duke’s title stripped and leave him
powerless, he and Nathaniel would surely have an opportunity to knock some
sense into the man.

Tired,
frustrated, and still thirsty, Avonlea rang for his butler.

“Sir?”

“The port,
man. Where is it? I have been trying to find it and have not yet.”

“I will
fetch another from the cellar, my lord. Was there anything else?”

He pondered
the question for a moment. “Actually, there is. What do you know of
girls—women—disappearing without a trace?”

“It happens
all the time, sir. In White Chapel, it isn’t uncommon—”

“No, no,
that is not what I meant. I mean here, in London, ladies of the ton, or
girls
fresh out of school some may have thought ran off to
the Gretna Green.”

The aging
man rubbed his chin. “There was a Baron Foster. His daughter of ten and nine
was never seen after attending some ball two summers ago. There were rumors she
was carrying on with a distinguished gentleman, but no one came forth to
confirm who the gent was. Her poor family. The gel was engaged to Lord
Broxton’s eldest. T’was an embarrassment to find out his betrothed had run
off.”

“Surely,
that can’t be the only occurrence of a disappearance?”

“There was
the matter of the dowager Duchess of
Hamptonshire
.
She was supposedly having an affair with another gent and was last seen at a
ball.”

How convenient, and all too coincidental, that
both women went missing after a dance.
If Downsbury was up to his neck in
this one, Charles planned to expose him at once. “That’ll be all. Now, run and
find me some port. I have much planning to do and would like the warmth to
settle my rattled nerves.”

A quarter of
an hour passed before the elderly butler rejoined him in the library. “My lord,
are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do for you?”

“No, old
chap. Go on to bed. I have kept you up long enough.”

“Very well,
sir, but should you require anything, please ring for me.”

Charles gazed
into the fire for some time, watching the flames flicker up, dancing the devil’s
jig.
Just how can I even begin to
approach the magistrate about these supposed disappearances?
What were the
chances those women were sold to an Italian man in Versailles, to keep silent
about the duke’s affairs or other crimes he might have committed?

The earl was
now entering into dangerous territory, but in the end, if it kept Emily out of
the arms of the brutes, then his job was done. Well almost. Until she was his
bride, no one would be safe while London’s menace was on the loose.

After a
night of
fitfull
sleep, Avonlea entered the century
old building where the magistrate conducted his business. He approached the
reception desk and waited impatiently for the clerk to spare a moment to look
up.

The short,
stout man lifted his head and pushed up his spectacles so they sat on the
bridge of his nose. With a nasally voice, he asked, “Do you have an
appointment, sir?”

“I do not.”

“And who
exactly are you expecting to see without an appointment?”

“The
magistrate, of course.”

“His honor
is not available for random walk-ins.
Would
you care
to make an appointment? But, before you do so, state your business.”

“No, I do
not have time to come back. It is a matter that is delicate and requires urgent
attention.”

“Excuse me,
gentlemen, perhaps I might be of some assistance,” a man said from behind him.

The earl turned
to find a tall, lean, and gray haired gent approaching them. “And who might you
be?”

“An
excellent question, Lord Avonlea. I am the Chief Prosecutor, William Sayers, at
your service. Follow me, and I will see what I can do in the magistrate’s
place.”

Avonlea nodded
and followed the man past a pair of French doors and through a long passageway.

“You will
have to forgive Byron’s manners. The man has aspirations of becoming a solicitor
in his late age, so he is a bit hard to discuss anything that is beyond the
rules, including making appointments. So, what is the delicate matter you were
looking to talk over?”

Something
about the man did not sit well with Avonlea. His dark eyes followed every
movement. “I am here to discuss some disappearances that might have occurred
over the course of two years.”

The
prosecutor chuckled and poured them brandy. “I had no idea you had become a
runner, Lord Avonlea. What has brought on this sudden interest?”

Accepting
the amber liquid, Charles took a swig. “I have reason to believe some ladies of
society may have been sold to an Italian in Versailles as a means to keep
silent. Who else is involved and what the reasons, I do not know. However, I do
have every intention of uncovering the truth, no matter the cost. Do you know
anything about the disappearances I speak of?”

Sayers went
rigid, all the humor from his face lost. “I have no idea what you are talking
about, but you are sputtering about nonsense. All my cases are closed and have
been closed for the last two years. Some of my cases were of chits running off
to Scotland to get married. It is not my business where they go after that or
where they take residence.

“If you want
my advice, my lord, you must drop this at once. Stirring up trouble will not
gain you any favors, and you might ask for more trouble by bringing up
embarrassing moments for local noblemen.”

Just who does this man think he is?
Charles pushed his glass away and stood from the rickety chair. “Mr. Sayers, I
know when I smell a rat, and you stink of scandal. I will take my leave now. But
know this, if you are involved in any way, you too will be destroyed. I hope
for your sake, you have not done something to shame your family as well.”

“Is that a
threat, my lord? For if it is, I caution you to think wisely before continuing.
There are no missing girls, other than the soiled doves from White Chapel and
Covet Garden. If you are insinuating I had anything to do with those
disapearances
, you are mad and have overstayed your
welcome, sir!”

Charles rushed out of the office, slamming the door behind
him. The situation was far from over, but it all made sense now. Downsbury
would have someone to cover his tracks and being friends with the prosecutor
was just the way to keep the questions away.
Well, that, and meddlesome lords from becoming suspicious.

Chapter Seven

Emily wandered in the garden, taking time to admire the pansies and
roses Mrs. Simmons had planted years back.

She often wondered what these great men did when they were home alone.
Some of the time, she and the young ladies she gossiped with overheard the
comings and goings of mistresses, or the men simply visiting the gambling hells
or attending Madam Martine’s establishment, heard through their mothers’ gossip
over tea.

On one occasion, young Miss Willows divulged her take on the daily
accounts of the local men, so her mother questioned her husband’s fidelity. When
Mrs
Willow’s followed him the one day, the driver
happened to stop at Madam Martine’s. Her mother apparently bullied her way
through the house until she found her husband in the throws with two women.

The girls had all gasped at the horror and embarrassment of such a sight.
They felt terrible for their friend, but as it were, six months later, Miss
Willows had eloped to Scotland. No matter where Emily looked, there was scandal
to be found everywhere. Last season with her brother, and now her ridiculous
engagement to the Duke of Downsbury.

She plucked a spotted daisy from its resting place, and pulled off its
petals one by one. This whole marriage business could not have been a bigger
farce. Soon, all of London would be addressing her as her grace, the Duchess of
Downsbury, while she only wanted to blend in with the background. Emily did not
belong in the circle of high society, much less know the first thing about
entertaining politicos.

And she would not tolerate her husband’s skirt chasing ways.

While she was still a woman with no say in her husband’s coming and
goings, the last thing she would accept was being the
other
woman. She did not want to be a broodmare for an overbearing prig, a
disrespectful clod.

Frustrated, she tossed the limp stem and returned indoors. The house
had become quiet. Her mother was up to something. Some days, the woman was
worse than a child.

Emily
happened upon her room and found her mother packing her trunks. “Mama, what are
you doing?”

“What
does it look like? I am packing your trunks. We will be heading over to the duke’s
manor for the remainder of your engagement. When you were off using the
convenience before we left, he asked that I bring you as soon as I could. He
has already managed to secure your own staff.”

Emily
shook her head with defiance. “Mama, you
know
I
would never ask anything of you, but I think my supposed impending nuptials to
the duke are a terrible idea. I would rather not become a duchess at all.
Besides, it has not even been announced, and the
clod
has
not even proposed.”

Her
mother straightened, standing there, mouth gaping wide. “You would rather you did
not marry the duke!” she shrieked. “And who else do you think will offer for
you? Lord Avonlea?”

Yes!
She desperately wanted to scream out, and technically,
he already had.
Was it so terribly wrong to want someone that felt so
right?
Propriety be damned. If she had to give up her station in the haute
ton and be shunned for wanting her earl, then that is what she would do.

“Listen
to me, you ridiculous gel. You will marry the duke. The contract has been
signed, and the nuptials are to take place in one month. You have no other
option unless you fall ill and die from consumption. You will marry him, even
if I have to drag you to the altar myself.” Her mother slammed the trunk closed
and rang for a servant. “Have this brought down, immediately.”

Then,
she turned to Emily, scowling. “Once we arrive at your new home, I would highly
recommend you have a bath and rest. You will need every moment of rest you can
get. Tomorrow, we will begin shopping for your wedding dress and trousseau. In
addition to picking out flowers and such. There is much to do, so do not tarry
long.”

Her
mother turned and stomped her way out.
How has my life spun so out of
control? Is this how it had been for Nathaniel and Isabel?

* * * *

Downsbury
poured over his accounts. He was nearly done paying off a great debt to Lord
Bainbridge and his ridiculous loss. It was rather ingenious that he had struck
an agreement with the Italian two years prior. Gold for women. All he had to do
was pretend to carry on an affair, instruct them in carnal ways, give them some
laudanum, and see them off on the boat.

The
arrangement had gone rather well, but the bloody foreigner wanted more women,
and he could not find any with such frequency without being caught. But when he
had sought the friendly assistance of William Sayers, Chief Prosecutor, they
too had struck a bargain and divided the gains and the responsibilities of
training the girls.

His
butler stood at the door and bowed. “My lord,
Mr
Sayers is here to see you. He said it was a matter of some urgency.”

“Show
him in.”

“William.”
The man had a long face, one that did not hold his usual optimistic
demeaner
. He normally took pride in the way he presented
himself, but now, he appeared as though he had fallen into a barrel of whiskey.

“Your
grace.”

“What
has you in such a state? Your latest case?”

“No.
We have a problem, and his name is Lord Avonlea, the Earl of Bridgeton.”

Downsbury
let the ledger fall to his desk. “What are you talking about?”

“His
lordship was by the office earlier, inquiring about open cases of missing
women. Do you think he is on to us?”

Impossible. How can he even suspect?
All
the meetings with
Travotelli
were held in private at
Martine’s and on the wharf. In addition, none of the girls would have spoken to
anyone else as they were kept in wealth at William’s private townhouse. “This
is very bad news for us. What do you intend to do?”

“Me?
Why should I do anything? This was your brainchild. I cannot simply have anyone
arrested for asking questions, especially after I invited him into my office.”

Blast that damned fool. I would like nothing more than to see
his body sink to the bottom of the Thames!
“Well if he’s already
sought you out, I am certain he will try his luck here. Ensure you have a
runner at your disposal. I will make sure we have a reason to have him
arrested. We cannot have him running amok, spreading vile rumors about a
respected member of the peerage.”

The
prosecutor snorted. “You go too far with that comment, your grace. After those
dealings with the Marquess of Stoughton last season, there are many who are
still wary of your legitimacy.”

“Just
make sure your girls are not talking, and all will be well. I will be ending
this partnership just as soon as my debt is paid and I take full ownership of
this asset overseas. All of this will be over in a snap.”

“I
truly hope you are certain. If my wife gets wind of this, she will have my
bollocks served at the next dinner party.”

“Well,
if I were you, I would train your wife better. You know the way out. See that
you do not visit me so often. If we are being watched, you are only giving them
reason to follow you.”

This will be over soon enough
. The young Miss
Thompson’s dowry would see to that, and the money he had stowed away would
cover the price of procuring the establishment. He could gamble his heart away,
fuck who he wanted, and gain a profit from the girls he kept on at the club.

Life
was about to improve. And no one, especially an earl, would stand in his way.

The
duke got up and walked toward the fireplace. He stared into the dark hollow,
thinking of nothing, until a knock at the door roused his attention. “What is
it now?” He craned his neck to find the chief prosecutor standing there. “What
more could you possibly have to say?”

“I
just thought of something… Perhaps we could look into his time serving for the
war office. I am sure we will be able to uncover something from his past.
Leverage is what we need, and digging up a secret is the solution.”

Richard
paused.
The man has a point
.

“Well,
you have all the connections that you frequently boast about. Find out what you
can, and I will do the same. Someone has got to know of his time passed on the
continent.”

And when you have finally figured out what is happening, it
will be too late.

* * * *

Avonlea
waited until no one else was left outside the duke’s palatial home. Charles was
impressed and stumped as to how the duke managed to keep the manor, considering
his finances had taken a bit of a dive last year.
How on earth did he
manage to keep cash flowing in
? Unless he really was
selling women on the side to the Italian man.

Charles
still had much to prove, but luckily, he had convinced Wycliffe to hire someone
and seek out the foreign accomplice. With a little luck, and God on their side,
they would be able to verify who the man was and where exactly the women ended
up.

He approached
the door and pounded on it. When it opened, he was met with an ogre of a butler,
and a surprised duke.

“What
can I do for you, Lord Avonlea?”

The
earl ground his teeth, trying to bite back any profane language. “I desire a
private audience with you.”

“Very
well, if you will follow me.” Downsbury turned to the butler and sneered, “You
know what you must do.”

Now, what in the world was is supposed to mean?

Avonlea
followed the dolt until they were in his expansive library. He doubted very
much the man read anything other than the label of a brandy bottle, but he would
soon find out.

“So
what is it that you desire to speak of? And be quick about it. My bride arrives
today, and we have a wedding to plan.”

The
word bride rolling of the duke’s tongue made Charles want to vomit, violently.
“I find it hard to believe the chief prosecutor hasn’t called yet. Surely, you
know why I am here.”

“I
do not, nor do I care. The only reason why I even permitted you to step foot in
my house was to deliver my own warning. Stay away from Emily. Do not think for
one moment I have not talked to Lady Thompson in great lengths over your
distasteful and disrespect manner of reproach. The girl is to be my wife, and I
have no hesitation of disposing the problem at hand.”

“And
what problem is that?”

“You.”

Rage
blinded him. The most urgent need to put a hole in the man’s black heart became
a necessity. “Me?”

“Do not
play me for a fool. I have heard of your spectacle at the magistrate’s office,
and I know of you spending the night at the
marquess
’
home when my fiancée was there. I am not a man to be trifled with.” The duke
rose from his seat and smirked. He walked around his desk and seated himself at
the edge, folding his arms across his chest.

“Nor
I. And I will warn you once and for all, if I track back missing women sold on
the continent to you, or the prosecutor, you are both finished. Do tell me one
more thing before I see myself out.”

His
eyebrows rose with a speculating glare. “And what would that be?”

“What
exactly will you do with Emily once you are bored of her? Will you ship her off
to the country as you did your previous duchess, or will you sell her to some
Italian brothel? The evidence is stacking, your grace, and you are running out
of time before you are caught.”

The duke
simply sat there and laughed. “I think, once I have plucked her virginity, which
I imagine might be tonight when the entire house is asleep—she is after all,
due for an education—I might share her with the prosecutor.

“Once
we have married and her dowry is mine, I just might sell her. I suppose I
should have waited until you were carefully stowed away at
Newgate
before sharing this, but I must add, even with the small tits she has, I am
sure she will make many a man happy. And guess what, there isn’t a damned thing
you can do about it, because you will be hanged for treason. You are an
embarrassment to the war office. Smoke houses and fallen doves? Is it any
wonder why you have not been found out yet?”