Page 33 of Duke of Eccess (Seven Dukes of Sin #4)

Her stomach twisted. Enveigh was giving her a way out, a solution to her problems. She knew that, and that was very honorable and noble of him—very gentlemanlike—but she didn’t think he really loved her.

They had known of each other for years, but they hadn’t spent enough time together for that kind of deep affection, and she certainly didn’t love him.

She couldn’t take a husband to avoid another husband.

No, she had to pray she could make it through until Christmas Day without letting her stepmother get hold of her.

But it wasn’t even that. Deep in her heart, Temperance knew there was no place in her soul for anyone except for Octavius, the Duke of Eccess. She couldn’t be so cruel as to accept this kind man’s proposal but never love him and think only about his best friend.

“I thank you so much. You honor me, Your Grace?—”

“I am a duke. You will have the highest protection.”

“Why does she need protection?” asked the Duke of Eccess sharply.

Enveigh ignored him and Temperance tried to steady her frantic breathing.

“I am very honored by your offer, Your Grace,” she said, “but I will never marry anyone. I’ve decided a while ago I will be a spinster forever.”

He nodded, looking crushed as he stood up from his knees.

Temperance couldn’t stand seeing someone rejected and in pain. She needed to leave the room as soon as possible. Enveigh shouldn’t have proposed.

Without looking at anyone, she excused herself. “Please, forgive me, I must return to Sophie.”

The rest of the day, Temperance wasn’t herself. The unexpected proposal had her mind reeling, distracting her. She was with the children, but she couldn’t focus on the books, their tasks, on her lessons.

She couldn’t throw off the furious, hurt look on the Duke of Eccess’s face.

Perhaps Enveigh was wrong to propose to her, but it had made one thing clear: she never wanted anyone else but Octavius.

Temperance’s heart hammered against her ribs as the truth settled over her like a warm cloak.

And even though she’d never be anyone’s wife, would it be so wrong to stop denying herself the pleasure that marriage brought to man and wife?

The very thought made her skin flush with heat.

She pressed her hands to her cheeks, feeling reckless and alive in a way she’d never experienced before stepping into that pleasure room.

Unlike other women, her virtue held no currency in the world that awaited her.

Her reputation was already in ruins as the Mad Heiress.

What more could society take from her? Her life stretched before her with only three possible paths: the asylum, marriage to Bartholomew, or blessed independence.

In none of those futures would her innocence matter one whit. That meant this moment, this choice, this man could be hers. Just hers.

In eleven days she’d be gone from this house and out of the power of its ruler. But tonight she could choose something for herself.

If she did nothing, she’d always wonder how it would feel if the Duke of Eccess had continued what they’d started in the kitchen, what pleasures he could show her in that sensual bedchamber.

Unlike what she’d been taught her whole life, Temperance wouldn’t regret knowing a man’s touch outside of marriage.

She would regret it if she didn’t.

That evening, when the children were asleep and the night footman had settled into his chair by the front door, Temperance sat at the small writing desk in her chamber.

Her hand trembled as she dipped the pen in ink and began to write.

When she finished, she folded the paper, heart hammering so loudly she was certain it would wake the entire house.

She stepped as lightly as she could as she made her way through the darkened corridors. Every creak of the floorboards beneath her feet shot through her. At her employer’s door, she hesitated for one moment, then slipped the note underneath.

Paper whispered softly against wood.

She knocked to draw his attention to the note, then walked quickly down the hall, disappearing around a corner before he could open the door. Her fate was sealed; there was just one thing she wanted—his pleasure room.

Returning to the room that had filled her with such curiosity and excitement, where she had become Aphrodite for a few glorious minutes, Temperance waited, her heart thumping in her throat.

When the door opened a short time later, she whirled around, and there he stood in his dressing gown.

The Duke of Eccess looked her over, his gaze like warm honey. “You’re full of mysteries, Miss Fields. Sending notes? You wanted to see me here—you had questions?”

Her throat was dry. “I did.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, no. This is the exact place I want to be.”

“Why did you refuse Archibald?” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “He is a duke. A woman of any status would jump at the opportunity.”

“I told you why not,” Temperance said as she leaned into his touch, tingles racing through her skin. “I’m never going to marry.”

“That is unusual for a woman,” her employer murmured as his finger traced down her neck.

“Perhaps I’m an unusual woman.”

“What are you doing here, Miss Fields?”

She met his eyes and immediately started sinking in the beautiful brown depths, soothing and calming. She tried not to stare at the other parts of him that drew her in—his muscular arms, his broad chest, his tall body that could swallow her whole. “This time I don’t want you to stop, Your Grace.”

He blinked. “You don’t want me to stop?”

“Yes. Show me what you didn’t show me before. Only for tonight.”

He shook his head, his eyes half dazed. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do. I don’t want a husband, but I do want a lover with no consequences or obligations,” Temperance said, hardly able to believe she was speaking so boldly.

“I will not demand marriage from you. I will not hold this over you. I just want you to take me, to use those ivory phalluses on me and show me what the whole fuss is about when it comes to pleasure in the bedchamber.”

The Duke of Excess closed his eyes, and a growl escaped his throat. So low he sounded like a boar.

When he opened his eyes, there was a hard resolve, but also molten desire. “Believe me,” he choked out, “I want nothing more—but I can’t.”

Temperance stepped backwards, rejection stinging her like the crack of a whip. “Why not?”

Octavius’s eyes were so dark, they were almost black. “Because it would be dishonorable to ruin a governess under my employment. You don’t know what you’re asking for, and I cannot risk having you walk out—especially not now.”