Page 16 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity (Ton’s Beasts #2)

Margaret took in the theater from Leo’s private box. For a man who said that he did not enjoy the opera, he still retained the right to private seatingas a man of stature in the London scene.

She had never envisioned so many people in one place, all dressed in their finery. She saw ladies in pearls and white gloves, gowns that were so much nicer than she had dreamed possible. Looking down at her own gown, she suddenly felt inappropriately attired.

Leo must have been seen here on occasion. She tried not to think about whether he would show up with a fashionable lady from a noble family on his arm.

“Have you ever seen such wonderful seats?” Theresa asked.

She leaned over and took Margaret’s hand. The two women gazed at the stage, where the thick black curtain separated them from the actors, a sense of anticipation growing in the crowd.

“There is so much to see,” Margaret breathed.

She did not know where to direct her gaze first. When the lights would dim enough to illuminate the stage only, everything else would blur in the darkness. She wanted to drink in as much of the atmosphere as possible.

Leo and Aaron were deep in conversation with another man who had entered the box with them. The Duke of Hiverville, Theresa had told her. It gave Margaret a much-needed moment alone with her best friend.

“Is London always this extravagant?” she asked.

Theresa gave a low laugh. “It was an adjustment after life at the convent. You could call this home as I do. A marriage of convenience might not—”

“I cannot allow him to find me,” Margaret cut her off.

She could not entertain the idea that a man from London would earn her hand in such a way, buying her at auction like a prize heifer. Margaret would not be a pawn in whatever game her grandfather had in mind.

“I merely mean that it may bring you happiness.” Theresa rubbed her stomach thoughtfully. “I had not thought that I would be able to leave the convent when my mother arrived, nor did I envision having a sister. Or a husband.”

Leo came to take his seat. The Duke of Hiverville found his seat a couple of rows back from theirs.

“The play shall begin shortly, My Lady,” Leo said.

The black curtain fluttered. But Margaret could not ignore the feeling that something was wrong. The small hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. It felt like Mother Superior’s disapproving gaze, but it was worse somehow. Like a predator’s stare or a judge about to pass sentence.

She chanced a glance to her right. Several rows behind them, she saw her grandfather looking back at her.

Her stomach felt as though it had filled with ice, tumbling around in her body as if she were in freefall. His cold blue eyes pinned her in place, and she found that she could not look away. Her breathing quickened to match the pounding of her heart.

He narrowed his eyes on her as she stared back at him, as if daring her to keep defying him. She did not take the bait. She tore her gaze away from him and tried to consider her options.

Fear heightened her awareness. She took in his belly and realized that she only had one option.

Surely, he could not catch me if I ran.

The only thing she could remember was her father’s voice.

“Run…” he echoed inside her head.

“I am not feeling well,” she said abruptly, rising from her seat.

“What is wrong, My Lady?” Leo asked as he reached for her.

She only shook her head. She could not answer him.

She edged her way out of the private box and hurried toward the exit. The crowds were pushing through the doors of the opera house, trying to get in before the play started. Margaret was a fish swimming upstream.

Once she burst into the evening air, she paused to catch her breath, but her lungs refused to expand. She placed one hand on her chest, where her heart was pounding so hard that she was sure everyone could hear it. Big gulps of air eventually filled her lungs, but she felt no sense of calm.

What if he followed her out?

What would she do if he cornered her?

There were no book clubs for her to escape to, and she did not know this part of the city. She scanned the horizon, trying to form a plan to escape without having to involve her friends.

She would not let Theresa get swept up in whatever the Earl had planned for her. She would not give her grandfather the chance to exact revenge when Theresa had found her happiness in London.

“Margaret.”

At the sound of her name, she pivoted and scanned the crowds frantically. She spotted Leo, the crowds parting around him as he walked toward her.

“Come this way.”

He led her back to the stables, where she dove into their carriage without a second thought. The carriage would shelter her from the prying eyes of the operagoers, and it would be the last place her grandfather would look.

Leo sat beside her and waited patiently for her to catch her breath. When her breathing returned to normal, Margaret realized that he had saved her once again. She realized that he was holding up his end of the deal, that he was protecting her from something he was not even aware of.

Maybe there was a way she could thank him for his services.

Tentatively, she leaned toward him. When Leo did not rebuff her attempt at closeness, she grew bolder. She tilted her head and pressed her lips to his just as he had done to her the night before.

She was surprised when he kissed her back.

He parted his lips beneath hers and cupped the back of her head in his hand, pulling her deeper into the embrace. She gasped for air, but it was no longer from fear.

She could smell the scent of his soap on his skin, blotting out the night air. Despite the slight chill, his warmth seeped into her, not just her lips but also everywhere they touched.

Margaret tried to focus on the emotion she felt as he kissed her, but could not name it.

Kissing Leo made it hard for her to think of anything but him.

She did not want to think of anything but him.

She relished the feel of his jacket underneath her hands, pulling him closer even as he pressed his lips fervently to hers. His mouth was hard but somehow still tender. She could taste the punch on his tongue, could feel herself becoming intoxicated by it.

When he pulled away, she leaned in until she almost fell forward.

“Please,” she breathed. “Make me feel something other than fear. I cannot tolerate this feeling. Not any longer.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Margaret bit her bottom lip. She desperately wanted to tell Leo everything: the way her grandfather had tried to force her hand years ago, how she had run from him, how he was now auctioning off her hand. But everything seemed distant now that she was in the carriage alone with him.

She could not bring herself to tell him the whole truth. Though she doubted it, a part of her worried that he would not be able to protect her from this fate.

No matter what he promised her.

“You know I can make anything go away. I can make anyone go away. All you need to do is say the word.” Leo held her hand, his gaze never wavering from her face. He studied her in a way that made her blush.

“Why would you do that for me?”

“I do not know.”

Margaret appreciated his honesty. She could not pinpoint why she allowed him to get under her skin so much. However, there was very little time for her to contemplate what was going on between them, why he was willing to risk his safety for hers.

Leo’s lips were on hers again, as if trying to banish the thought that she might have something to fear. Unlike her tentative kiss, his was so hungry that it heated her from somewhere deep within her. She felt it not just on her lips but also between her legs.

She leaned into him, which only made the kiss more intense. He parted her lips with a deft flick of his tongue, and she welcomed him in. As his tongue ran along the length of her own, a moan tore from her throat. It was a sound she did not even know she was capable of making.

His lips trailed from her mouth to her cheek, then to her jawline. Margaret tilted her head back, offering up the sensitive skin of her neck to his caresses and touches. As his teeth nipped the side of her neck, she knew that she had to have more of him.

If this is what she would be missing out on as a nun, did she truly want to be a nun at all?

“If you do not like this—” Leo started to say, pulling his mouth from hers.

“That is not a problem,” she murmured, angling her head back so that he might continue his exploration of her neck. He traced a line with his lips to her collarbones.

Margaret wanted more from him, but she did not know what to ask for. Briefly, she pictured the scenarios in those books and wondered how it would feel to have a man touch her that way.

Did all those ways bring pleasure the way Leo’s touches did?

She never thought that a simple kiss could feel so wonderful.

Leo reached beneath the hem of her skirt and put a hand on her knee. Margaret kissed him harder, her teeth nibbling on his lip. She bit him hard, and he gasped, but his reaction was not what she would have expected.

Instead of pulling back, he slid his hand further up her leg. Now, his hand was on her thigh, and she squirmed with anticipation of what might come next. She had never felt this slickness between her legs, the heat that pooled in her core.

“Shall I show you what was in those books?” Leo whispered, his warm breath tickling the shell of her ear.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Leo brought his lips back to hers and slid his warm hand even higher until he was touching the folds between her legs. He stroked them with one finger for a moment, and it nearly took her breath away.

She threw her head back, unable to continue kissing him while she felt pleasure that intense. Thrusting her hips toward him, she leaned back on her hands on the carriage seat.

“Do you like this, little nun?” Leo asked, pausing his ministrations.

“Please,” Margaret panted. “I will not know what to do with myself if you stop.”