Page 23 of A Duchess to Unravel (The Devil’s Masquerade #3)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“ D o your husbands allow you to touch them?” Theo asked.

Seraphina and Amelia’s heads shot up from the fabric they were perusing, their eyes wide with shock.

Theo glanced around the familiar modiste’s shop, the one she used to frequent when living in London.

There was no one else shopping at present, and the modiste was in the back, preparing for the fitting of their new ball gowns.

Admittedly, Theo understood that the question was rather abrupt and not quite suited for such a public place, but the inquiry had grown so loud within her head that it simply burst from her lips.

“Um,” Seraphina faltered. She pressed her lips together. Looked toward Amelia, then back to Theo. “How do you mean?”

“As in holding your hand?” Amelia asked, drawing closer to Theo. “Or embracing?”

Theo glanced once more around the empty shop, then came around to join them by the collection of silks and linens.

“I mean in moments of intimacy,” she answered, dropping her voice down to a whisper, just in case.

“Do they allow you to … explore?”

Amelia and Seraphina shared a glance, then Amelia spoke first.

“When Dominic and I discovered that we were drawn to one another, there was an exploration of sorts,” she replied. “We had not found our feelings toward one another yet but there was a draw to … to touch one another. Is that what you mean?”

Theo shifted on her feet. In truth she was not sure.

Though what Amelia had described sounded familiar.

She and Alistair argued often, especially at their breakfast ritual.

Yet, she still found herself coming to him in the evening every day for her lessons.

She greatly enjoyed his teachings, the way they left her body feeling sated and relaxed.

“I suppose Alistair and I have the same draw,” she agreed. “But while he seems most ready to please me, I have noticed that he does not allow me to do the same for him.”

“He does not allow you touch him at all?” Amelia asked.

Theo shook her head.

“He seems fine when I touch above his waist, but when I try to go further, he stops me.”

“Hmm,” Seraphina hummed.

“Hugo was the same way with me at first,” she confessed.

“What changed?” Theo asked quickly. “Do you know why he was like that? How were you able to turn it around?”

Seraphina’s eyes dashed to the floor as her cheeks turned rosy.

“All I will say is it takes patience. Understanding. And conversation. Talk to him.”

Theo was not exactly thrilled by Seraphina’s answer, but she nodded.

The rumors about Hugo had swirled around for years.

The beast of Merrivale with devilish appetites.

Only Seraphina knew the truth and had been able to tame him into the doting husband he now was.

Though she wanted to know more, Theo respected the way Seraphina protected her husband’s privacy, and reminded her of how Alistair was protecting her own.

“I take it, since you are asking us these questions, that you and Alistair are growing more intimate?” Amelia asked.

Before Theo could answer, the modiste came out from the back, announcing that she was ready for them. They turned their focus to the fitting, and just like old times, they “oohed” and “ahhed” over each other’s gowns as the final alterations were made.

“Can you believe that Everett is actually throwing a ball?” Amelia asked as Theo took her place on the modiste’s pedestal.

“He is growing up I believe,” Theo responded.

“It is about time,” Seraphina scoffed. “He spends far too much time drinking and playing the fool.”

“I do not believe he has a choice,” Amelia chimed in, “What with all the new responsibility he has on his shoulders, thanks to Alistair. All four of them are busier than ever.”

Theo felt a swell of guilt, knowing that it was her husband’s doing that was keeping her friends’ husbands away from them for much of the day.

“Oh, do not look so distraught,” Seraphina said, catching Theo’s expression. “It is not your fault! And trust, they are happy to be this busy. Not to mention, Everett needed a reason get away from the bottle.”

At the mention of such, Theo was reminded of Rose’s mother, and the last time she saw her. She missed her friend and had not seen or heard much from her since the wedding.

“I know Ophelia will be joining us later, but I thought Rose was to have her fitting with us today?” she asked.

Theo caught another shared glance between Amelia and Seraphina, and her curiosity grew.

“Rose has been a little preoccupied,” Amelia said carefully, her eyes darting to the modiste.

“Her mother has been … unwell,” Seraphina added. “Rest assured we will see her at Everett’s ball, though. Rose is never allowed to miss a social function.”

Theo nodded, hoping that Rose was no longer agitated at her decision to marry Alistair. The three of them chatted about accessories for their gowns as the modiste finished her work, and once changed back into her gown, Theo’s mind wandered back to the original topic: her husband.

As they waited for the modiste to come back out and ring them up, Theo ran her hands over the bolts of fine silks and linens in varying shades of pastels and whites.

“I am getting this one,” Amelia told her, holding up a bolt of fine white lace. “Made into that nightgown over there.”

Theo followed Amelia’s pointed finger to a bust dressed in a white linen nightgown, and her eyes widened.

“But it will be transparent!” She gasped. “You will be able to see right through it!”

Amelia gave her a knowing smile and nodded her head, a twinkle in her eyes.

“That is the point,” she whispered. “I find it quite exhilarating when I render Dominic speechless.”

Theo’s mind raced at the idea of being able to render her own husband as such, and she smiled giddily as she bumped her shoulder against Amelia’s.

“Pardon, Mrs. Tate,” Theo said to the modiste as she and Amelia approached the counter. “I should like a nightgown made in this material as well.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Mrs. Tate replied politely, taking the lace from Amelia. “Just one?”

Theo glanced back at the fabrics she’d been perusing, then quickly went back to fetch the bolt of mint green silk and the sheer, white linen.

“One in each of these as well, please,” she instructed. “All with the same design.”

The modiste smiled knowingly as she took the fabrics and nodded.

“Yes, Your Grace. I shall have them ready for you at the end of the week.”

“How in the world did you convince her to wear something other than green?”

Alistair’s deep concentration broke as he heard Dominic’s question, and with effort, he pulled his gaze away from his wife.

He hadn’t been able to stop looking at her since she’d come down the stairs of the London home wearing the cobalt blue gown.

The deep blue silk that matched her eyes was vivid and moved like water around Theo’s body, mesmerizing him into a yearning silence.

“It is a mystery,” he said with a smirk, and together the two men drew their eyes back to their wives. Theo, Amelia, Seraphina, Rose, and Ophelia were clustered tightly together away from the dance floor, laughing and chatting intimately as the party moved around them.

“The five of them have an unbreakable bond,” Dominic said, then took a sip of his whiskey. “Closer than sisters I would say. I would not try to get in between them.”

“I wouldnae dare,” Alistair replied.

In fact he was comforted by the thought. It meant that Theo would have someone to watch over her once he went back to Scotland. It meant that she would not have to be alone.

“I have some information for you,” Dominic said, leaning closer to Alistair. “Perhaps while Tristan and Hugo have Everett corralled, we could speak in private for a moment.”

Alistair nodded, but he spent another long minute watching his wife smile and laugh before he let Dominic lead him away from the party and toward an empty room.

He noted how far they went down the hall, how many corners they turned to get to the small, intimate space that was to be a private reading room.

Far too small for a library, but no desk to qualify as an office either.

Just a few chairs, a chaise lounge, and a fireplace.

Only one oil lamp was lit, barely able to cast the dimmest of light into the darkened room.

Dominic grasped the oil lamp and manipulated the wick out of the bottle, tossing the oil-soaked cord onto the logs in the hearth. They caught aflame within seconds and filled the small room with more light.

“Aiming to seduce me, are ye?” Alistair joked, looking at Dominic with a raised brow.

Dominic chuckled as he pulled an envelope from his inner jacket pocket.

“I am afraid you are not suited to my tastes,” he retorted. “However, I thought you would appreciate more light. I believe my spies have found who you have been looking for.”

Alistair’s jesting mood came to a standstill as he reached for the envelope Dominic offered him, and he tore it open.

Inside was a compilation of information on a young noble named William Upton.

A second born son to an earl. Not much to his name.

Outshined by his older brother. Was expelled from Oxford.

Poor in the way of business and in funds and fond of brothels and gambling.

Precisely the type of man who would try to blackmail a wealthy noblewoman into a marriage.

“Thank you for this,” Alistair said when he’d finished reading over the information.

Dominic nodded.

“Theo means a great deal to Amelia. Therefore, she means a lot to me,” he replied.

“You have not told her about this, have you?” Alistair asked. “I do not believe Theo would approve of you helping me with this.”

Dominic cocked his head as he raised a brow.

“I hold far more secrets than you, my wife, or anyone in this society could possibly know,” he retorted. “I know how to keep information private. Even the fact that you and Theo first met at the Devil’s Masquerade.”

It was rare that Alistair was taken by surprise, but in that moment, he was. He’d known that Dominic had a penchant for know-all that was going on in London, but Alistair had clearly underestimated just how far that knowledge went.

“Do not worry,” Dominic assured him. “I hold no judgment. Amelia and I have been there ourselves.”

Again, Alistair was surprised.

“If you knew we met at the Masquerade, why did you not tell Tristan that?” Alistair asked.

Dominic raised his chin, an air of authority in his stance.

“We all have ways of coping with the burden of this life. I believe that we should be able to have the privacy to do so,” Dominic replied.

Alistair studied the man before him, his respect for him growing. Dominic had the power to possibly ruin everyone within the London ton. Yet he chose not to. Instead, he kept all secrets to himself, using them only to correct a wrongdoing.

“I am glad to call you a friend, Dominic,” Alistair said, extending his hand.

“The feeling is mutual,” Dominic replied, accepting Alistair’s handshake. “Let me know if you need anything else. I shall be very happy to rid you and Theo of any other troubles.”

Alistair bowed his head in respect.

“I shall be sure to keep that in mind,” he replied. “For now, let us go back to the party.”

Dominic nodded, grinning.

“Agreed. My wife will no doubt be wanting to dance soon, and what she wants, I give.”

They rejoined the party, no one the wiser that they had even left, and Dominic moved toward his wife.

As he predicted, Amelia smiled at him lovingly when she spotted him and went gracefully into his arms. Alistair scanned the room, surprised that Theo was no longer with her cluster of friends, but found her not far, talking with Tristan.

Alistair squared his shoulders and approached his wife.

As if sensing his presence, Tristan’s eyes shot toward him as he came close, and Alistair did not miss the look of discontent that glittered briefly in the other man’s eyes.

Alistair calmly stared back and lay a hand on Theo’s shoulder.

She turned, and when she saw it was him, her smile actually seemed genuine, as if pleased it were him.

His own lips twitched into a grin, pleased with her reaction.

“Your Grace,” Tristan stated, his tone polite yet curt.

“Lord Briarwood,” Alistair responded with a nod.

“I received your latest reports before we left Caldermere. You are doing good work here.”

Tristan’s eyes widened, as if surprised by the compliment. It quickly passed, however, and his face settled back into an expression of annoyance.

“I am glad you noticed,” he replied. “And pray, how is your work going in Caldermere? Dominic and Everett will tell me nothing of your progress.”

“It is a private matter,” Alistair replied casually, “Trust that all matters are being taken care of.”

“And can I trust that those matters include those of my sister?” Tristan asked. “I would be most displeased to learn that she is not being taken care of.”

Alistair’s brow rose at the challenge, but it was Theo that spoke.

“Do not speak of me as if I am not here,” she answered briskly, taking a step back toward Alistair’s chest. “And trust, brother, I have all that I need. You have no reason to worry.”

“With as busy as your husband seems to constantly be, I doubt that,” Tristan said dryly, crossing over from passive aggressive to obvious doubt.

“You ask your sister for her truths and do not believe her?” Alistair quipped back. “No wonder she seemed so distressed when we first met.”

Tristan took a challenging step toward him, but Theo twirled around to face Alistair, putting herself between them before either could do or say anything else.

“You have yet to take me to the dance floor, husband,” she said to Alistair, holding his gaze. “Would you do me the kindness?”

Alistair held her gaze for a brief moment before he flicked his eyes toward Tristan’s glare, then smirked.

“I would be happy to,” he replied, watching Tristan’s anger sizzle a moment longer before returning his gaze back to Theo’s.

He then stepped back, bowed, and offered her his hand.