Page 11 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity (Ton’s Beasts #2)

Margaret almost regretted that it was time to emerge from her warm bath. Embarrassment still flooded her at the thought that Leo might suggest that she was interested in him, that she would want him to do to her what the people in that book club were doing.

She was practically a nun now; how could she give up her refuge for the opportunity to explore that way? Did she want him to explore with her that way?

She shook her head, sending water droplets to the floor. The warm water had managed to soothe her ahead of a dinner that she must attend with her friends. It would not do to work herself up again just before seeing them and pretend nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

The robe the maid had left her was warm and dry, perfect to wrap around her body as she contemplated what she needed to do tonight. She had eaten with Theresa and Aaron at Blackwell, but this would be different. They would expect her to know how to dine as the nobility dined.

But first, she needed to figure out what to wear for their first meal together. It could set the tone for the rest of the week, given her anxiety over the idea of having to head to the dining room.

The minutes were ticking by, and she still had no idea what to do. She rubbed her pale skin vigorously with the towel until it turned pink. Then, she turned her attention to the two dresses the maid had laid out for her, to give her options.

Margaret walked around to look at Theresa’s old gowns, running her fingers down the fine fabric. She had no idea which was more in fashion here in London, which one would be most appropriate for a friendly dinner. Which one said that she cared but did not want to try too hard to impress their host?

As she reached for one of the gowns, she heard a faint sound. A brief pause before she reached for the gown again, and the sound came clearer this time.

It was laughter, but who would be laughing in these chambers?

Margaret could imagine only two people who would laugh at her this way.

She grabbed the dress from the bed and held it up to herself. The laughter came again, louder this time.

“If only I had someone to tell me which of these dresses I should wear to dinner,” she called out loudly. She set the dress down and picked up the other, dancing around the room with it. “It’s so strange. I could have sworn I heard a ghost a moment ago.”

She walked to the far side of the room to give the impression that she had no idea where the laughter was coming from. She tucked the robe more tightly around her body for modesty, though she knew that the intruders were only children.

“Nobody told me this estate was haunted by ghosts,” she said, letting a shudder run through her body at the thought. “I suppose I will have to take my leave without even getting dressed to escape the spirits.”

She reached for the door at the same time the wardrobe opened and the twins tumbled out of it.

“Maybe ghosts aren’t real. Just these two noisy children,” she laughed, tipping her head back.

The girls were so troublesome and naughty. They reminded Margaret of herself as a child.

“I didn’t get to introduce myself to you earlier. My name is Margaret.”

“My name is Annie, and my sister’s name is Kitty. We’re very sorry to have hidden from you, but it was such good fun.”

“I hope that we will have an opportunity for much fun together, but perhaps no more hiding while a lady gets ready. I have the feeling that the three of us are going to be friends,” Margaret said, crouching to the girls’ eye level.

“What were you doing?” Annie asked, looking around the room.

“I was trying to decide what to wear to dinner tonight.” Margaret gestured to the two dresses as she placed them on the bed.

Annie and Kitty walked over to the bed, looking very serious. Both girls felt the fabric and looked between Margaret and the dresses.

“You should choose the red one,” Kitty said.

“How come?”

“Red is our uncle’s favorite color. And the dress is pretty. It will match your red hair.” Annie smiled and held the gown out to Margaret, who took it and considered their words.

“Is that so? Did he tell you so himself?”

She could not picture Leo having a conversation with anyone about his favorite colors. She did not think he would have a favorite color, as his entire wardrobe seemed to be nothing but blacks and greys.

“We just heard it was his favorite,” Kitty said. “We have been staying with him for months, but we don’t talk much.”

“He said he is throwing a house party.” Annie jumped to Leo’s defense. “We talk sometimes. Have you been to many house parties, Margaret?”

“I have never been to a house party. I come from somewhere far away, outside of London. We don’t have parties there much.”

“Do you like to dance?” Annie asked, and Margaret had to hide a smile at the question. Obviously the little girl wanted her to keep talking with them.

“I do,” Margaret said, though she doubted that the dancing she did in the convent would be the same as the dancing at this party. She would likely have to watch from the shadows rather than participate. “Does your uncle like to dance?”

“We don’t know. Never seen him dancing,” Annie replied.

“But we have never seen him before our parents went to heaven, either,” Kitty added. The young girl looked very serious, her brow furrowed and a frown on her little face. “Do you miss your parents?”

“I do, very much.” Margaret felt a pang in her chest, thinking about the last time she saw her parents.

After all this time, it was still a very visceral pain.

The two girls exchanged a look. Their eyes grew a bit glassy, and their smiles turned into frowns. Annie reached out and took Kitty’s hand in her own, squeezing it reassuringly.

“I assume you miss your mother and father?” Margaret asked gently.

“Yes, but we also missed them when they were here, so it really is not that much different.” Annie paused, her mouth half open as if trying to decide whether to ask her next question. “Do you think Uncle is mean? I heard some maids in the kitchen call him a Beast.”

Margaret took a moment to think about how to answer their sincere question. On one hand, Leo had offered her his protection. On the other hand, he had been rude to her and refused to listen. She had practically thrown herself at him, asking about his book clubs, and he had turned her away!

And he refused to see her as anything more than a nun.

Surely, that had to mean he was not so beastly as the ton made him out to be.

Margaret was just about to tell the girls that their uncle had a good heart, even if he did not know how to express it, when she heard someone tapping their foot in the doorway.

“You should not bother our guest with questions,” said the deep voice.

Margaret did not have to turn around to know that Leo stood behind her.

All three of them froze, not sure how to act in his presence. Margaret wondered how long he had been waiting there, and whether he had heard her plan to wear the red dress because it was his favorite. Or whether he had heard her say that she missed her parents.

Instead of turning to look at him, she looked at the girls. Both kept their eyes down and clasped their hands behind their backs. Gone were the giggles and smiles when they tumbled out of the wardrobe.

Margaret regretted that Leo inspired such fear in them that they could not truly enjoy his company. She understood their feeling. She, too, had a hard time enjoying his company at times.

“Annie and Kitty, you should be in bed,” he chastised.

The girls muttered an apology and slipped past him out the door.

Margaret doubted that the girls would go to bed, but she bit her tongue. If Leo thought they were in bed, it was all the better for them. She would not stand in the way of their mischief.

“Margaret,” he said. “Turn around.”

She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders back, trying not to think of the fact that she was dressed in nothing but a robe. As she turned to look at him, his eyes traveled lower than her face. He paused at her breasts and then the curve of her hips beneath her light robe.

“If you have questions, you should ask me. Not the children.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she said, eyes averted. “The girls merely told me that red was your favorite color. Is it true?”

Leo looked at the two gowns on the bed and seemed to study them for a moment. He glanced between the gowns and Margaret, his eyes darker than usual. Eventually, she saw the smirk she was growing familiar with, the one that said he knew her better than she knew herself.

“The red one would suit you, indeed.”

Margaret nodded, but she still did not make eye contact with him.

Leo crossed the room to stand in front of her, much closer than was decent, with her wrapped in nothing but a robe. The cloth whispered against her skin, but she craved a rougher touch. She remembered what it had felt like when Leo grabbed her by the arm that night at the book club.

Would she relish such a touch again?

Leo watched her for a while, but she never met his gaze. Eventually, he would grow tired of watching her. Or so she hoped.

Instead, he lifted her chin and forced her to look him in the eye.

“Why are you avoiding my gaze now? Do you consider me a beast as well?”

Leo stood with his hand cupping Margaret’s chin. The only thing separating them was her thin robe. While he had been with many women before, he had never felt the urge that he felt right now. He had felt anticipation before, amusement, even desire, but not need.

He felt like he had to take her. That he would take her if not for the protection he had already told her he would give. That protection extended to him, too. He needed to protect her from himself.

But how easy would it be to yank that robe off her and touch her, break her?

Now, she stood before him contemplating whether she thought him beastly. He was a bit offended that she did not respond immediately.

“A beast?” she finally spoke, and he hung on every word. “Not a beast, but you can be a bit overbearing.”