Page 20 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity (Ton’s Beasts #2)

“Do you wish to catch up with the ducklings?” Margaret asked as she wiped away the dirt with the sleeve of her gown.

Kitty nodded and looked back at Leo. He stood rigidly as he watched Margaret interact with her. His jaw remained clenched, but he did not come over to scold the girl. Joan caught up to them and took Kitty’s hand.

“Maybe now you will not run from me,” she said.

She nodded to Leo as she led Kitty in the opposite direction from the four adults. It took only a moment for Kitty to forget her folly and laugh as she raced away from her governess toward her sister and the ducklings.

“You are excellent with the girls,” Aaron said to Margaret. “They seem to be quite taken with you.”

“It is only because we have so much in common,” she laughed. “On any other day, it could have been me in that puddle.”

“You do have a way of finding trouble.” Theresa looked fondly at her.

“I remember clearly your antics when we were at St. Agatha’s.

I recall that Mother Superior was often cross with you.

Do you remember the time you hid the baby goat in your chambers for three days before Mother Superior found him? ”

“Only you knew the full extent of my mischief. You were a sister to me,” Margaret said.

As she thought of the days she and Theresa had spent in the convent, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. How lonely she was now that Theresa had gone.

“I am only glad that I do not have to hear you sing anymore,” Theresa laughed, lightening the mood. She turned to Leo and added, “The nuns have forbidden her to sing the hymns, to spare us all.”

“I can only imagine the trouble you got into,” Leo said, snapping Margaret back to the present. “If your behavior here in London is any indication, you must drive the sisters mad.”

Theresa and Aaron stepped toward the path that led to a clearing in the trees. The path was too narrow for the four of them to walk side by side, so the married couple walked ahead of them.

“Do you remember the first picnic we had here?” Aaron asked, just loud enough for Margaret to make out the words.

Theresa laughed and whispered something to him that made him smile.

“You will be alright here with Joan, will you not?” Theresa asked Margaret.

Margaret looked around for the governess and found her just a short walk away. She nodded, but Theresa was already following Aaron down the path, clearly with no intention for Leo and Margaret to follow.

Margaret could not help but be suspicious of her friend. Theresa had been so concerned with propriety, ensuring that Margaret was never left alone with Leo. And here she was now, taking a walk so that Margaret could have alone time with Leo.

“We should take a seat, My Lady,” Leo said, directing her toward a bench to their left. “The girls should not be left alone with Joan.”

“I fear that we may never find them if we do.” She laughed and lowered herself onto the bench.

From her seat, she could still see the girls and their governess, but they were hidden away from most of the parkgoers by a large hedge.

“I believe I owe you my gratitude for our discussion last night. It seems that you were correct about how I have been handling the girls.”

“They do seem so excited to escape Devishire Mansion today.”

She watched as Annie scooped up one of the ducklings. The mother came waddling after her, quacking. Margaret laughed quietly as Annie put the bird down.

“I cannot help but think that they would be better behaved with someone who understood them more,” Leo said. “Someone like you.”

“You brought me here to help. It seems I have already done you a great service,” Margaret teased.

“You have, but I have not held up my end of our deal. You have not told me what you are so afraid of so that I might offer my protection.”

“It does not matter.” Margaret shrugged.

“But it seems that it does. The way you ran out of the opera house yesterday made it clear that you are running from someone. Do you not trust that I can make any problem disappear?”

“You cannot make this problem disappear.” Margaret looked around them to try to avoid his gaze. She could tell that he was looking at her intently from the way her cheeks burned.

“You do not know what I am capable of until you ask.”

“My problem will resolve itself when I take my vows.”

“I thought I told you that you were not to think of that while you are here with me.” His voice was low, making it impossible for even those closest to them to hear. “You are mine while you are here. And I will protect you, even if you do not trust me with your problems.”

“There is no problem that cannot be solved.” She sighed.

“Then explain how you stumbled upon my book club. What were you running from then?”

“Oh, look!”

Margaret turned her head to the side and caught sight of the ripe fruit hanging from the tree. It was enough to halt Leo’s train of thought and distract him from thinking about her problem.

She could not tell him about her grandfather or the promise she had made to her father, but she could ask him to pluck the fruit from the tree.

“My Lady, have you never seen a peach before?”

“I have never had one ripe from the tree,” she said. “Would you pick it for me?”

Leo rose from the bench and walked over to the tree. Margaret was too short to reach the fruit, even on the low-hanging branches, but Leo was much taller and plucked it from the branch effortlessly.

As he reached up to grab it, his sleeve fell a few inches down his wrist, exposing a pattern of scars on his skin. They were raised and pink, from wounds that would have been deep.

Margaret reached out to touch them with her fingertips until she remembered that they were in the center of Hyde Park. She looked around for Joan to remind herself that it was not proper to touch Leo intimately.

Drawing her hand back, she spoke to him in a soft voice. “Where did you get such scars?”

Leo drew his hand back and tugged down his sleeve over the scars. He clearly did not want Margaret to see them, but she would not let the moment pass. She waited as patiently as she could for his reply.

“Didn’t the stories about the ton’s Beasts tell you?” His voice was bitter as he bit out each word. It sounded almost cruel, and Margaret had to remind herself that his anger was not directed toward her.

“The war,” she said sadly.

She reached out to him, no longer caring who saw them. Her touch was not inappropriate and did not hint at the things they had already done together. She merely wanted to comfort him when he was so clearly pained about his scars.

“I am sorry for what happened to you,” she said quietly.

She felt the warmth of his skin beneath her hand and wished that they were alone at Devishire Mansion. She wished she could comfort him the way he had comforted her at the opera yesterday.

“Your fruit, My Lady,” he said, holding the peach out to her.

She understood that this was a peace offering. Leo did not wish to discuss the war with her or elaborate on how he got his scars.

Margaret took the fruit from his hand and pressed it to her nose. She inhaled its lovely scent and then pressed it to her lips. Leo did not take his eyes off her as she felt the fuzz on her delicate lips.

She opened her mouth slowly and sank her teeth into the ripe flesh. Juice filled her mouth and dribbled down her chin.

Leo wiped the juice from her chin with his thumb.

“You make quite a mess,” he murmured.

He lifted his thumb and licked the juice off it. Margaret could not help but stare at his mouth and wonder what the fruit would taste like on his lips.

You are in the middle of Hyde Park. It would not do for a nun—even a nun-to-be—to kiss her host.

She leaned toward him and offered the fruit to him. Leo took it from her hand and rotated it so that the place she bit was facing him as he took a large bite.

When the juice beaded on his lips, Margaret reached out her thumb and wiped it away. She relished the feel of his lips against her skin but resisted the urge to swipe her thumb along them again.

It was all she could do not to lean in and taste the peach on his lips.

“How does it taste?” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Leo stared at her intently, as if he could feel the same tension within her. “Not half as good as your lips,” he said.

His gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth.

A kiss does not ruin a woman of the cloth.

She wished she did not have the thought that she could have Leo now and still take her vows in a few days. Something about him beckoned to her and made it impossible for her to remember why she had to take her vows, why she had to run from London as fast as possible.

“And how do they taste?” Margaret leaned in, closer than she should have.

“Sweeter than this peach. Sweeter than the moment I found you in my book club,” he said.

He reached out to run his fingers along her cheekbone, but his sleeve slipped up to his arm.

Margaret remembered that not only were they in Hyde Park, but she also did not know this man as well as she thought she did.

“I have those, too, you know,” she said, looking down at the scars on his forearm.

Leo pulled back, the tension that had built between them suddenly broken. His gaze traveled over her body, as if he could pinpoint her scars. As if he could make them go away with a mere look.

“You? Scars? Why?”

“I was never good at following the rules. I bet Theresa has them as well.” Her gaze drifted to the spot where her friend had disappeared on the narrow path to the clearing.

“You mean the nuns…?”

“They do not like it when people think for themselves. At least, that is the case at the convent where I live.” She shrugged.

Margaret had come to terms with the way the nuns punished her for her headstrong ways a long time ago. She and Theresa were always up to something, but now it was just her.

Alone, the punishment meted out by Mother Superior felt so much worse. She had no one to help her apply a poultice to her wounds and no one to tell her that things would be alright. It was a lonely life ahead of her, which brought tears to her eyes.

Unable to think about a lifetime of discipline in the convent, she turned away from Leo and headed back to the path.

He did not follow her, but reached out and grabbed her hand to stop her from getting too far away from him. Seeing that he would not allow the moment to pass, she met his gaze.

Leo’s expression was serious. Anger clouded his features and deepened the lines on his face. She remembered the stern expression he had on his face when she stumbled upon his book club, and this expression mirrored it.

Only this time, his sternness was not aimed at her.

“Why would you want to go back there then?”

“It is safer for me in the convent,” she replied.

Leo was getting close to the core of her problem. She did not wish to tell him exactly what she was running from, but he would not drop the issue.

“Safer than where? Here in London?” His brow creased as his eyes searched her face for the answer that she would not disclose. He stared into her eyes, daring her to tell him the truth. “I cannot help you if I do not know what the problem is.”

Margaret opened her mouth to object, to tell him that he did not need to worry about her safety. After all, she would return to the convent in a matter of days, and he would no longer be responsible for her.

But she could not force the words out of her mouth before she heard the voice behind her.

“If it is not my lovely granddaughter.”

Margaret froze, ice running through her veins.

How long had he been there, watching them in the park? Was she too far from the carriage to run, to escape the old man? She knew she could outrun him, but he now knew she was with the Duke of Devishire. It would take him no time at all to find her.

Leo looked between Margaret and the Earl, realization dawning on his features. He stepped between them , a man of action even in the midst of duress.

He must have been an excellent soldier.

Margaret’s gaze flicked back to the Earl.

What should she do to preserve her freedom, to convince him that he had the wrong person? There was only so much she could do in public. Frozen, she looked away from the old man and found some comfort in Leo.

The look in his eyes told her that he would protect her, even if he did not know what he was shielding her from.

Margaret would have to tell him the full story now. But first, she had to think of a way out of this situation.