Page 13 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity (Ton’s Beasts #2)

Leo and Aaron had stayed up late last night, drinking whiskey.

Leo would have done anything to drown out the memory of his body pressed against Margaret’s in her chambers.

He did not tell his friend what had transpired, but he was certain that Aaron knew his intentions toward Margaret were not pure.

When he woke up in the morning, it was with a headache from the drink. He splashed his face with cool water, trying to force his eyes open. He dried off with a towel, a reminder of the robe wrapped around Margaret’s body.

Enough.

He could not continue to think of the little nun that way. She was to take her vows, and he was here to protect her from whatever she was running from. There was nothing else to be done, nothing else that he could do to her without jeopardizing her virtue.

Leo donned his usual black attire and fastened his pants. With a sigh, he left his chambers to meet his guests for breakfast. He walked past the door to Margaret’s chambers but did not knock to offer to escort her to the morning meal. Chances were, she was already there with Theresa.

When he entered the breakfast room, Theresa and Aaron were just taking their seats.

They both had empty plates in front of them, the meal laid out in the center of the polished table.

Theresa scanned it for sweets; she had a fondness for them, and he had asked the cooks to make something special for her.

“Too much to drink last night?” Aaron asked when he saw Leo wince in the sunlight.

“What gave it away?” Leo looked down, wondering if he looked as haggard as he felt.

His clothes might not have been fashionable in color or cut, but he was neatly dressed. There should have been nothing to hint at his discomfort.

“The frown on your face, my friend,” Aaron laughed. “You look like you could use a few more hours of sleep.”

“I was hopeful that the bacon would help,” Leo countered.

He took his seat at the head of the table and began to pile his plate with eggs and bacon. He took a bite and felt his stomach turn, but he kept eating. Surely, his stomach would settle as he grew full.

“I trust you slept well, Theresa?” he asked politely.

“It is harder to sleep with each passing night,” she lamented. “The child inside of me grows larger and has his own ideas of when I should sleep. But our rooms are very comfortable.”

“If it makes you feel better, I slept quite well,” Aaron chimed in. He pressed a kiss to Theresa’s temple as she tasted the corner of a blueberry pastry.

“And where is your guest this fine morning?” Leo asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

He had thought he would be the last one to come down for breakfast.

Of course, Margaret would avoid him and any reminder of last night. He should not have taken advantage of her that way. She must have never been kissed before, at least not like that. Not with the passion and the intention he had put into that one kiss.

A chaste kiss might have been fine. But Margaret was about to be a nun. She had shunned any hope of a man’s touch. Her commitment to her vows was already written in stone, no matter how many times she inquired about his book clubs.

The more he thought about it, the more confused he became.

“She must be exhausted. The first days in London do not pass without an adjustment. I remember when I came from the convent for the first time,” Theresa said thoughtfully. “I shall check on her after breakfast.”

“No need,” Leo said smoothly, rising from the table. “I will go see how the lady is faring.”

Theresa rose to join him, her belly brushing the edge of the table and almost sending her plate flying.

“Sit, Duchess,” Leo said. “Do not worry about your friend. I will leave the door open so that the servants may chaperone us.”

Theresa nodded and sank back down with a sigh. “I thank you for inviting her to your house party and for your discretion.”

Leo turned away from the table, bacon in hand. The girls would likely be somewhere around here, getting ready for breakfast. He should try to find them while he was at it, taking responsibility from Joan. Perhaps Margaret could assist him in finding them.

He knocked on her chamber door, and she granted him entry. When he came into the room, she was perched on the window seat, gazing out through the glass. Her hair was still mussed from sleep, her gown a bit creased, but her face lit up with joy as she surveyed the grounds.

Leo came to stand behind her, leaving an acceptable distance, so that he could see what she saw through the window.

“The convent does not have such beautiful flowers,” she said after a while. “Nuns plant things you can use to heal, or things we can eat. They never plant flowers for aesthetics.”

“There is nothing wrong with practicality. My gardens are likely too extravagant. It takes the gardener every spare moment to maintain them. But the girls do love them.”

“I like your gardens,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the window to look at him.

She gave him a smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling. It was as if the kiss did not happen and she still enjoyed his company.

“I would be happy to take you around the gardens later,” he said.

She pointed to a corner of the garden where hydrangeas bloomed, and he caught what she was looking at. “The girls are having great fun with the old gardener over there.”

“Yes, I once happened upon them calling him Garden Grandpa. At least, I hope they call him that only when they are alone.”

Leo smiled at the memory. It was so difficult to chastise the girls when they were so adorable sometimes.

“Margaret,” he said seriously.

She turned to look at him, all traces of mirth erased from her features. Instead, she looked alarmed at the sudden shift in his tone.

“I am sorry for what happened last night.”

“I am not.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I would not have had the chance to experience whatever that was otherwise. But it must not be repeated.”

“Of course.”

Leo felt like a large rock had sunk into his stomach. He desperately wanted to kiss her again—and again and again. But she was quite clear that she would not have him. He would not force himself on her if she did not want him.

“I will make it up to you,” he said lightly, as if her rebuke did not bother him. “I will take you to the opera tonight to watch from my private box. I gather that you are not so familiar with the opera, so suffice it to say that it is a famous play I think you will enjoy.”

“Thank you.” She looked at him, her eyes piercing through his soul.

Leo felt he should take his leave of her. She had one red curl dangling by her cheek, and he wished to tuck it behind her ear. Slowly, he reached for that curl, but then thought better of it and dropped his hand.

Without another word, he turned to leave.

At the door, he said, “You are free to explore the mansion. And come down for breakfast. I will not bother you beyond what you wish.”

“Thank you. Truly.”

Leo walked away from her room and back to his study. He could not keep drinking after every interaction with her, but he had no other idea how to handle this situation with her.

How could he truly protect her if he knew nothing about her? If he kept thinking of her as his?

Margaret took Leo’s invitation to heart and finished getting ready for the day.

She felt conflicted; she wanted to feel his touch again, and yet she had chastised him for it.

The only remedy for her conundrum was to escape the mansion for a little while, but she knew better than to brave the streets for fear of who she might encounter.

Instead, she slipped out the kitchen door to explore more of the orangery. The breeze delicately brushed her face, her neck, her hands, calming her instantly. Inhaling deeply, she enjoyed the scent of the orange blossoms.

Finally left to her own devices, she found a tree away from the prying eyes of the servants and sat on its gnarled roots. For the first time in a long time, she was able to take another deep breath.

Her fingers plucked the wildflowers that grew around the tree, and she absentmindedly wove them together to form a crown. She had just put the finishing touches on it when she heard laughter from a few rows away.

“It seems there must be ghosts in the orchard,” she called out with a laugh.

The girls squealed with delight when they realized Margaret was hidden among the trees. She could hear the patter of their feet as they ran around, trying to find her. When Kitty finally found her, both girls tumbled down to lie beside her.

“Would you like a flower crown?” Margaret asked, holding up the one she had already made. Annie nodded, and Margaret reached out to place it on her head. “If you can help me pick more flowers, I will make one for Kitty, too.”

The girls needed no prompting to pluck the small purple and white wildflowers around them.

“Where did you learn to make flower crowns?” Kitty asked.

The girls watched, enthralled by Margaret’s skilled hands.

“It was something my mother taught me,” she said with a wistful smile. She placed the finished crown on Kitty’s head. “There. Now you are both princesses.”

“Do you want to play tag with us?” Annie asked, sitting up straighter. “I bet you won’t be able to catch us.”

Margaret pulled herself to her feet, her inner turmoil cast aside for the moment. The girls scurried off, laughing, and she hiked up her skirts and chased after them.

Until Annie took a tumble in the dirt.

“My dress,” Annie complained, a frown creasing her brow.

“It is not ruined,” Margaret said kindly.

“But it is going to require you to change,” Leo said from behind her.

Annie froze, but Margaret kept an easy smile on her face.

“Your Grace, there is no point in changing dresses as long as we continue to play,” Margaret interjected smoothly, turning to face him.

“And what, pray tell, are you playing?”

“Tag,” Annie volunteered. “And Margaret is chasing us.”