Sins of a Wicked Duke (The Penwich School for Virtuous Girls #1)(5)

“Please, sir. Just go home.”

Panting, he clutched his side, all evidence of hiccups gone. “You dare to command me? Hold your tongue, girl.”

“Please, Mr. Jamison,” she said tiredly. “I have no wish to offend—”

He raised his hand from his side and snatched her wrist, his eyes glowing with a sobriety absent moments ago, before his jog through fogged streets. “Then you best be a biddable creature and follow me back inside the house.”

She glanced down at her arm. At the pale hand, smaller than her own, gripping her. Anger churned in her stomach. Extending the spot-faced lad any courtesy at this point took every ounce of will she possessed. Da had long ingrained in her the importance of showing proper humility to her betters. But he had also instilled in her a healthy respect for herself—for the safety of her person.

“Do you hear me?” Reggie tightened his grip.

She inhaled thinly through her nostrils.Sorry ,Da. But even you would agree this is one of those circumstances.

Her stomach churned. Not so much at what she was about to do, but at the consequences that were certain to result.

She nodded, an eerie calm sweeping over her. “I hear you, sir. Now hear me.” She locked gazes with him. “Unhand me or…” her voice faded.

“Or what?” Amusement brimmed in his voice.

“Or I shall make you.”

“Make me?” He laughed, tossing back his head. “Are you daft, girl?”



“Laugh all you like.” Her voice lowered a degree. “You’ve been duly warned.”

“Warned?” He shook her arm again. Hard enough to give her discomfort. She winced. “You have cheek, girl, I’ll give you that.”

She had more than cheek. Breath gusted from her lips. He was going to learn that the hard way. She wrenched free of his grasp. Grabbing him by both shoulders, she lifted her knee. Using all her force, she kneed him in the groin.

His startled gaze collided with hers the instant she made contact. The choked gurgle to follow brought a grim smile to her face. She released his shoulders and stood back, watching as he collapsed, a twisted pile of man. Low, pitiable moans tripped from his lips, reverberating through the chill evening air.

“You’re fortunate my skirts hampered me.” Propping her hands on her hips, she added, “It could have been much worse.”

“Worse!” he wheezed, sprawled on the ground and clutching himself in the most undignified fashion as he rolled side to side.

“Indeed.”

His face burned varying shades of red and purple beneath the muted glow of gaslight. Spittle flew from his lips as he spoke the words she had dreaded. And yet if the truth be known, she had grown so accustomed to hearing them, they did not distress her as they should.

“Your services are no longer needed.”

Fallon sighed. Sacked again. Of course.





Chapter 2


Dominic Hale, Duke of Damon, parted the curtains of his carriage as he idly fondled the female beside him. Her plump breast overfilled his palm, precisely the way he preferred a woman’s breast to fit in his hand.

Her name escaped him, but their names always did. And, after a day or two, so did their faces.

Inhaling the cold night, he stared out at the gaslit street, searching, it seemed…for something, anything. But then he had been doing a great deal of that lately. Restlessness plagued him. As it had halfway around the world, following him home. He had hoped his return would restore him to his proper self.

He grimaced, deciding the wordproper a far from apt description for him. The cheap perfume that rose to sting the inside of his nose mingled with the stink of opiates that had floated about the gaming den where he spent the evening.

He exhaled, dreading his next breath. While he might appreciate the feel of the woman in his arms, her overpowering perfume was another matter. He inched closer to the window, trying not to breathe too deeply.

The second woman in the carriage mewled for his attention. She dropped off the seat to curl at his feet in a mass of ruffled silk. Her hands slid up his boot, fingers working into his thigh like a kitten flexing her claws.

He brushed a hand over her hair as she worked at the front of his breeches, eager for the tide of sensation to flood him. In a matter of moments, her soft hand closed around the length of him and she lowered her head into his lap.

Dropping his head back against the squabs, he let the clatter of hooves fill his head, enjoying her expert mouth bringing him to life. An evening of carnal pleasure yawned before him. Two women should keep him fairly occupied. Distracted. His body could burn in a way his heart could not. The nights, the drink, the gaming, the cards, the women…for a brief time they brought him warmth.Feeling . They broke through the numbness. Temporarily at least.



He gazed at the shining puddles of rainwater outside the carriage and waited. Then, after a few moments, frowned.

The usual sensations eluded him. The harsh pleasure he knew so well, the wild, searing sensations that reminded him he was alive…none emerged. Even as his body responded, the awful emptiness clung to him with a tenacious fist.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, he stared out at the night, catching the hazy reflection of the carriage in the glass of the darkened storefronts they passed. Suddenly his view was broken, the string of shops interrupted by a pair of tussling figures.