Page 11 of A Duke for Hire (The Devil’s Masquerade #1)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“ I am not so sure about this,” Seraphina said, looking around the daylight filled ballroom. “We have never been invited to this type of party before.”

“It is a good sign,” Rose said, trying to be supportive. “Being invited to a weekend party in the country means that your status is climbing.”

Seraphina nodded as she attempted to smile. On one hand, she knew her friends were right. On the other, she knew that the Earl of Repington had also received an invitation, and that he too would be staying the weekend under theirs hosts roof. They had already danced together at two balls in the city, and thus far, she had found his attention rather off-putting. It seemed he liked to put his hands on her whenever he could.

“Miss Seraphina, there you are,” Martin said, announcing his presence.

Seraphina looked up from her conversation with Theo and Rose. She forced a smile in his direction, despite feeling the tension in her body rise, and turned to curtsey toward him.

“Lord Repington, how good to see you again,” she said politely as she bowed her head.

Before she could rise, Martin grabbed at her hand, and brought it forcefully to his lips. She shivered with disgust as she felt his tongue flick across her knuckles. Panic bloomed in her belly, making her nauseous, and she had to fight to keep her smile intact.

“How lovely to see you again,” He replied with vigor.

“Lord Repington, if I may introduce my friends-” Seraphina started to say as she attempted to pull her hand away.

“Some other time,” he said dismissively, holding her hand tight.

He then gave a stern look toward Theo and Rose over her shoulder, which she followed. They both looked to her with concerned, questioning eyes, but she gave them a nod, and they walked away.

“Has your mother shared the good news with you?” Martin asked.

“Oh, indeed I have,” Mary sang happily, appearing at Seraphina’s side.

With her hand stuck in Martin’s hold, and her mother’s grip suddenly tight on her shoulders, Seraphina suddenly felt stuck. She tried to pull in a breath and found it difficult.

“And we are so happy to hear that you and His Grace have come to an agreement regarding the dowry, are we not Seraphina?”

“Yes,” she forced out.

Needing something, anything, to focus on and help her draw breath, Seraphina looked up, hoping to find sight of her friends whom she knew did not go far. It was not their eyes she found, but Hugo’s, across the room. His dark green eyes were fixed on hers, and rather than accusation, she read comfort in their depths. There was not a stitch of anger in his expression, but a concern that made her want to rush to him immediately. Thankfully, her lungs seemed to be able to relax, and she drew in a deep breath.

“You will have a dance with me,” Martin insisted, “It is time we showed the ton that we are intended to one another.”

“Oh, yes, how perfect,” Mary agreed readily, squeezing Seraphina’s shoulders tighter.

She gave Seraphina a bit of a shove, and Martin was quick to capture her other hand.

“Should we not wait for a new song to play?” She asked, feeling sick.

“It will end in a moment,” Martin replied hastily, a thread of annoyance in his voice, “By the time we take our place on the floor all will be well.”

“Do not be rude,” Mary hissed in Seraphina’s ear, “Go dance with your intended!”

Martin pulled at her as if she didn’t have a choice, and Seraphina nearly staggered as they made their way to the dance floor. As the new song began, Martin grabbed at her waist with a firm hand, and pushed her into the steps. Nausea whirled up in her as he began to whirl her around the floor, feeling as if her body was not her own.

“I like to dance,” Martin told her, obviously not sensing her discomfort. “When we are married I expect to do much of it at the reception. Then of course when we go out as a married couple, you will be expected to take many turns with me. Do you like to dance?”

“I thought I did,” Seraphina replied, feeling her head spin, “But as of late it makes me quite ill.”

Martin let a humph.

“Well, yes, your skills leave something to be desired,” he mused, “But have no fear, my leadership will have you better in no time.”

He spun her again, quickly and without warning, and Seraphina feared she was going to retch right then and there. When he caught her again, his hands went lower, sliding nearly to her backside to pull her back to him.

“There are some things you need to know,” Martin went on, “I have quite an appetite. You will need to satisfy it the best you can. When we have a moment alone, I shall give you specifics.”

Seraphina felt her panic rise again.

“Are you talking of food, My Lord?” She asked.

Martin chuckled at her, the tone condescending.

“In some fashion, yes. In others…”

Martin’s voice trailed off as his eyes lowered to her breasts. She looked back at him, startled, and felt her gorge rise as he made an emphatic noise in his throat. The moment the song ended, she tried to come to a stop, but Martin forced her back to him, clear that he was not done yet.

“We beg forgiveness for the interruption, Lord Repington,” someone chirped. Seraphina barely paid attention, busy trying to force down her nausea.

Martin looked to his left with a frown, and to Seraphina’s relief, he stilled.

“And who are you young ladies?” He asked, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

“I am Miss Theo Briarwood, and this is Miss Rosamund Gravesmoor,” Theo replied with a cheerful smile.

“What is it that you want?” He asked, his eyes narrowed at them, “Can you not see we are dancing?”

Seraphina balked at his rudeness, finding it far worse than Hugo’s had ever been.

“We do,” Rose agreed.

“And what lovely skill you have!” Theo praised.

“But we have a situation,” Rose said, giving an apologetic smile.

“One of a womanly nature,” Theo explained. “We need our dear friend’s assistance. May we please borrow her?”

“There are two of you,” Martin pointed out, “Can you not figure it out among yourselves?”

“It is an issue that requires a third set of eyes and hands,” Rose laughed, “With your…charisma, certainly you understand how complicated a woman’s dress can become.”

Seraphina’s brows flew up, unable to believe that Rose would say such a thing. But her words seemed to fluff Lord Martin’s conceit. He let her go, though his hands lingered unpleasantly.

“Hurry back with her,” he commanded, “We have much to discuss.”

“Of course,” Theo agreed, snatching Seraphina’s hand before he could change his mind.

“These things may take some time, though,” Rose insisted as they began to walk away with her, “We pray for your patience, My Lord.”

“Thank you,” Seraphina breathed as her friends pulled her into the hall.

“Are you all right? You look as if you are about to faint!” Theo said worriedly.

“You are positively flushed!” Rose exclaimed, “Did he not see how poorly you felt?”

Rose dipped her kerchief into her water glass, and began to dab it gently against Seraphina’s neck.

“I do not believe he notices much about me about all,” Seraphina replied, then pulled in a deep breath as she felt the cool water’s relief.

“He is a self-absorbed brute,” Theo hissed, beginning to fan Seraphina, “Your mother cannot possibly be serious about you marrying him!”

“I am afraid she is,” Seraphina replied, then smiled weakly at her friends. “Thank you kindly for the rescue. I needed it.”

“Of course,” Theo replied hastily, “We will always look out for you.”

Seraphina winced, knowing just how many things her friends could not rescue her from. It was not as if they could pull such a coup on her wedding day.

“We must get your mother to change her mind about this marriage,” Rose insisted.

“My brother told me more of the Duke of Merrivale,” Theo told her, “He has been a good friend to Tristan, and Tristan is adamant that he is not the man the ton claims he is. Perhaps if we could speak to your mother we could change her mind about him.”

Helplessness spiraled through Seraphina. How she wished that were possible.

“My parents have made their choice,” she said weakly. “Lord Repington will be my husband.”

“Indeed I will be.”

All three of them jumped as they heard the Earl’s voice, and Seraphina forced a smile.

“Ladies,” he said curtly, approaching with his hands behind his back. “I trust your “issue” has been resolved?”

“Actually, My Lord-” Rose began to say, but Seraphina cut her off. They could not hide her forever, despite how she wished otherwise.

“It has, Lord Repington,” she replied. “Thank you for giving us the time.”

Martin gave them a stiff nod, and extended his hand toward her.

“Would you two give us a minute?” He asked of Rose and Theo. “I would like a moment alone with my intended.”

Theo and Rose looked at her worriedly, but she gave them a subtle nod.

“Your friends are quite rude,” Martin stated as they were left alone.

“They do not mean to be,” she replied, and Martin grunted.

“Nonetheless, they will not be welcome in our home once we are wed.”

Surprised at such a statement, Seraphina’s jaw dropped.

“My Lord, please, they really are quite pleasant-”

“You will not have time for friends anyway,” Martin interrupted, closing the space between them. “You will be far too busy with your husband and new duties.”

“You cannot ask me to give up my friends!” She insisted.

Seraphina took a step back, her back hitting the wall before she could create more space, and Martin pressed up tightly against her before she could do anything else.

“I am told I am a patient man, Miss Seraphina, but even my patience wears thin with certain behavior. These… ladies… are something I will not tolerate.”

“But-”

“You told me you were obedient, yes?” He asked.

Seraphina felt her heart beating wildly as she sensed danger. How could she reply with anything other than yes? As her mind scrambled for an answer, Martin reached out and pressed a firm hand on her stomach.

“Say yes, like a good girl,” he warned through gritted teeth. And panic consumed her.

“Lord Repington,” Hugo called.

He had watched her all evening. Seen her friends rescue her from Repington, and watched him leave to find her. Hugo had planned on finding a moment to speak with Seraphina at the party later, but when he’d seen her friends come back into the ballroom without her and the minutes ticked by, he found himself unable to wait.

As he suspected, he found her with Repington. Anger quivered through him as he saw the man’s hand pressed against Seraphina’s stomach, saw the vivid look of fear on her face. Forgoing subtlety, he walked up to them with his fists clenched.

“Lord Merrivale!” Martin said, turning toward him with a surprised look.

“You will address me as Your Grace,” Hugo said flatly, moving his body between Martin’s and Seraphina’s.

“For all of London’s rumors about my manners you seem to forget that you all are lacking in a few of your own.”

Martin’s brows dropped into a scowl, but he had the good sense to back down.

“Of course,” he agreed, bowing his head to Hugo, “My apologies. How may I help you?”

“Your associates in the cigar room are asking for your presence,” Hugo lied. “I told them I would come fetch you.”

Martin gave him a dubious look.

“And why would they send you?” He asked.

Hugo felt his temper rise further, but he kept calm.

“Apparently there is some tale of a giant bear you took down that they wish you to recount?” He asked. “Word has it you are an excellent hunter.”

“Not as excellent as you, I have heard,” Martin retorted with a look of disgust, “Though I suppose we hunt very different forms of game.”

That was enough, Hugo decided, and he stepped directly up to Martin, looming at least a head above him.

“Would you like to find out, Lord Repington?” He asked, his tone laced with deadly intent.

Martin shifted his weight, and as Hugo expected, the man backed down.

“They are looking for me in the cigar room, you say?”

Hugo nodded once, not letting the man break eye contact.

“The tale of that hunt is most exciting,” Martin grumbled, taking a step back, “I would be happy to regale my friends with it again.”

Hugo kept his glare on Martin, even as he turned his back to them, and watched in disgust as Martin quickly forgot all about Seraphina, and walked quickly toward the cigar room.

“For once I am grateful for your horrid manners, Your Grace,” Seraphina sighed, her voice shaking.

His anger was still threatening to explode, even as he turned to face Seraphina.

“What did he do?”He wanted to go to her, the urge to wrap her in his arms taking root deep inside of him, but he held himself still. She looked absolutely petrified, and he didn’t want to frighten her further.

Seraphina let out a shuddering breath, a sound that chilled him to the bone, and she shook her head.

“Nothing,” she whispered, shaking her head, “He didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” he warned, “You look as if you barely stay on your feet!”

“I just feel ill, is all,” she protested.

He watched as Seraphina moved to put a hand to her stomach, but as if realizing that was where Martin’s hand had just been, she yanked it away viciously, and rubbed her palm against her skirts.

Unable to take it, he moved toward her, and a great wave of relief swept through him as she sank into his arms.

“I’m all right,” she said aloud, burrowing into his chest.

Hugo was not sure if she was saying it more toward herself or for him, but either way, it did nothing to stay his concern. He let her sink further into him, her hold growing tighter as if she were trying to crawl into his very skin.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, gently cupping the back of head.

“I just need a minute,” she insisted, clutching him. “I don’t know how, but I always seem to feel a bit better when you’re around.”

Because you are safe with me, he thought. He kept quiet though, softly stroking the back of her neck and shoulders until her trembling subsided and her body relaxed.

“You know I am referred to as a beast,” he pointed out, “But the more I am in London, the more I question who the real beasts are.”

To his relief Seraphina let out an exhausted laugh and she pulled away.

“You are not a beast,” she replied, smoothing a hand down his jacket.

“You are the only one that seems to think so,” he replied, grinning down at her.

He reached down and gently lifted her chin with his fingertips so that their eyes could meet. A soft smile touched her lips as their gazes locked and then, to his surprise, Seraphina rose to the tips of her toes and kissed him.

Startled by her own brazenness, Seraphina pulled herself away from the kiss she had initiated. She hadn’t meant to. It just happened. His embrace had relaxed her entire body and mind, and for the first time that evening, she had felt safe. Secure.

“I am so sorry, Your Grace,” she apologized, trying to untangle herself.

Hugo’s grip on her remained steadfast, however, and she felt great relief when he in fact did not let her go.

“Don’t apologize,” he answered quickly, his voice thick with desire, capturing her cheek with his palm so she would look at him. In his eyes she saw the same growing need she felt within herself, and a sudden heat encompassed her.

“We do not have to stop if you do not want to,” he breathed, caressing his thumb over her face.

From beyond the corridor, Seraphina heard the murmur of approaching voices, and froze. Hugo took her hand and led her around the corner. She followed him the servant’s staircase to the second floor. Upon reaching the landing, they heard more voices approaching, and Hugo suddenly pulled her into a guest room that was no doubt his. They both pressed their ears to the shut door, listening until they heard the voices fade.

She glanced up at him, feeling a swell of relief as his eyes met hers.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “I needed a moment away more than I realized.”

Hugo nodded, and took a step back.

“Of course. We do not have to do anything. You can just stay here until you catch your breath, then return to the party.”

Seraphina grimaced at the thought. She didn’t want to return to the party. She wanted to go home. Though, she supposed it didn’t matter where she went. Her future was bearing down on her from everywhere.

“Seraphina, are you all right?” Hugo asked, “You’re looking pale again.”

“I don’t want to do this,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her news.

Hugo looked hurt for a moment before he said, “Like I said, we do not have to do anything.”

“No,” she said quickly, “I mean I do not want to be married to Repington, I do not even want to be pursued by him!”

She watched as a bit of relief flickered through his eyes, followed quickly by weariness.

“So it is true then,” he stated, looking down at his hands as he rubbed them together. “You are to marry him.”

“It is not official yet,” she sighed, “But my father is arriving this evening. I believe they are going to iron out the final details before Sunday arrives.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked.

Unable to hide the truth from him, she shook her head.

“He unnerves me,” she confessed. “But I have no choice.”

“If you had a choice,” Hugo countered, “What would it be?”

Seraphina pressed her lips together as she thought of her answer. In truth she didn’t want to be married at all. Not if that was how it was going to be.

Unable to take thinking about it any longer, she threw her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to her for a kiss. Hugo went rigid for a moment, but his strong arms quickly wrapped around her waist, and he pressed her close and kissed her back until she was panting and dizzy.

“We don’t have to do this,” he panted, his hands gripping her dress. “You need to decide what you want.”

“What I want is to stop thinking about it all,” she pleaded, pressing herself tighter to him. “You made me forget about everything once. Please. Do it again.”

For a moment Hugo looked at her as their foreheads pressed together, his breath growing more ragged by the second. Then with a groan he kissed her, and lifted her up into his arms. Relief flooded through her as Seraphina closed her eyes, and she let the reality of her surroundings be fade away.

His lips were warm yet demanding as he led her to the bed, pulling from her the stress that had so painfully wracked her body. With seemingly expert hands he pulled away the strings of her dress then corset, parting the fabric so that his hungry mouth could wander freely.

Among the pillows, Seraphina let her head lull into their softness as he undressed her. She’d never let a man see her naked before; barely even imagined allowing her unknown, one-day husband to see her in such a state. And yet with Hugo, she felt no shame, no reach for modesty. All she felt was the building need spreading fire through her veins, and the giddying sensation of having him satisfy it.

Hugo’s tongue was relentless against her sensitive bud, lashing at it with apparent need of his own. Then, just as she thought she was about to have that ecstasy-filled crash as she had before, he slipped between her mons and filled her with his tongue. Seraphina moaned his name as she felt him lap at her inner walls, and arched into his assault.

It only took their first time for Hugo to become addicted to Seraphina’s taste, and yet as he drank his fill of her, he could not help but feel used. He wanted her. Wanted her body and her hand in marriage. A new form of possession he’d never experienced lured him.

A mixture of carnal hunger and anger consumed, and he bowed down before Seraphina—open and willing for him, craving him—and he continued.

Sliding his tongue from between her dewy petals, he enveloped her bud with his mouth once more. His fingertips met her overflowing wetness as he reached up, and he moaned into her as he slid his one inside. Ecstasy surged through him as Seraphina breathed his name, and it spurred his need for possession.

With a patient rhythm he began to coax her sex, massaging her tight inner walls with the pad of his middle finger as he kept time with his tongue. He did so until her breath became rapid and ragged, until her inner walls began to squeeze at him with an almost painful tightness, and then he stopped.

Seraphina sat up straight, her eyes wide and wild as she looked at him in alarm.

“Why did you stop?” She rasped, her entire body quivering.

“I need something in return,” he replied tauntingly.

She looked at him questioningly, then her eyes fluttered as he began to coax his finger inside of her again. He let himself revel in her apparent need until her head started to lull back, and then he stopped one more. This time a painful cry left Seraphina’s lips, and he felt a dark pleasure fill him as she whimpered, trying in vain to work himself on his finger.

“Tell me you’ll be mine,” he warned, removing his hand.

Panic flitted through her eyes as a dark blush flooded her cheeks.

“Hugo, I…I cannot. You know I have no choice.”

“Then neither do I,” he replied, pulling back to sit up on his knees.

“You think I want him?” Seraphina asked, scrambling to her knees to catch his hands. “You think I want someone like that when it is you that makes me feel this way?”

“What way? Tell me.” He demanded to know. He wasn’t looking for love; he had deemed it a fairy tale a long time ago. But he needed to know that she wanted him. That she was genuinely attracted to him and not looking for a temporary escape from her cares.

She searched his eyes, looking desperate and uncomfortable at the demand, but just as he thought she would not answer, she did.

“I abhor your arrogance at times,” she whispered.

His brows rose up in surprise.

“Admittedly not what I thought you were going to say,” he replied.

“But I cannot deny what you do to me,” she whispered, giving him a look of desperation.

It fueled his arousal, and Hugo smirked.

“Go on,” he urged.

“I have spent nights lying awake, sleepless, unable to focus on anything but what you spark in me,” Seraphina continued, her voice growing stronger. “My body writhes in my bed, my hands try to repeat what you have done. But it is no use.”

She sat up straighter, suddenly looking infuriated.

“I cannot do it. I cannot create the feeling you do, no matter how hard I try, and the effort only leaves me frustrated and trembling. Aching. It consumes me, what you do to me. How you make me feel. Like I am about to burst into stars. But it is you. Just you that makes my body act like this.”

She leaned forward, her hands clenching in his hair as she brought her lips close to his.

“So I am asking you, Hugo. Please. Make this agony go away. Make it all go away. Because I do not know what I will do if you do not.”

Satisfaction radiated through Hugo as he heard her words, and with a quick hand he captured her throat and captured her lips in a rough, possessive kiss. He felt her go lax under his touch, and he forced his tongue between her lips, claiming every surface of her mouth.

“Please,” Seraphina whispered between his kisses, “Please.”

With a push he had her back against the bed again, and he delved between her legs with a renewed vigor. Within seconds he had her writhing and whispering his name once more, and this time, as he felt her approach her precipice of pleasure, he let her fall into it.