Page 73 of Dukes All Night Long

His thumbs kneaded the folds of her dress by her hips and curved around the swell of her bottom.

He murmured in her ear, “But I don’t want to think about Miss Butters or what my uncle wants.

All I can think about is you. Since that kiss earlier tonight, all I’ve thought about was you and this.

” He squeezed her bottom and she squealed.

He kissed her again, deepening the touch as he trailed his fingers up and down her back, sending little shivers down her spine.

She moved against him, quite enjoying being pressed against the wall, and turned her head to the side.

As he covered her neck with kisses, she let out a contented sigh as he worked his way down to her chest. She arched her back, giving him more space, and he kissed the top of her chest.

He growled, “These clothes are constricting. I do not like them.”

She laughed.

“Are you a maid?” he asked.

He was asking if she was still pure, she realized. “Yes. I don’t wish to change that, not now.”

Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the secret passage, and she looked at him. “But I’m not averse to a stolen kiss or two,” she said shyly.

And it was true. She felt sure he was a rake and their encounter would probably not last longer than this evening, but she also felt safe and secure with him, and throwing her logic and reason and good breeding aside, her body was quite happy being in his arms.

“I’m not always so wanton,” she admitted, “but I am a maid.”

He murmured, “I like the sound of that. My lady midnight, my wanton maid.” He kissed her again, which made her heart sing. Her chest lifted for joy.

Even for just these few stolen moments secreted away together in a passage, she was happy, truly, completely, even blissfully. Especially when he slowly raised her skirts, bunching them up by her waist, and licked his fingers. “May I?” he asked.

“Pardon?”

“I won’t take your maidenhead. Don’t worry. But if you will let me, I would like to pl—”

She parted her legs for him. Pinned against the wall, there was nowhere for her to go, and she liked it that way. Her stomach clenched in anticipation.

“Yes,” she said, giving her consent. “I trust you.”

He kissed her and slowly dragged his fingers along her thighs, feeling the silk stockings and the garters that held them up. His fingers were soft and he tickled higher, tarrying by her small triangle of hair, and without another word, he slipped his fingers into her most sensitive part.

She gasped and tried to stifle a moan as he teased her, feeling her wetness.

She was slick and tight around him. He tickled her recklessly, keenly, until a wave of pleasure came over her, and she cried out as he continued mercilessly until she pushed him back with a gasp.

She didn’t have to see his grin in the darkness to know it was there.

Her head lolled to the side. He sucked his fingers, tasting her.

She looked at him through half-lidded eyes, feeling lazy and sated. “I wonder if this is what taking drugs is like,” she said.

Falstaff laughed. “I think that’s probably the nicest thing a woman has ever said to me.” He pulled her into a warm, lingering kiss, and she could taste herself on his lips.

He helped rearrange her skirts, and they fixed each other’s hair and masks in the darkness. “What about you?” she asked, feeling awkward. She didn’t know what to do, as she’d never been with a man before. What did young ladies of quality do in return for such wild attentions? “Can I…?”

“Not tonight, my lady midnight, but if we meet again, then I may just take you up on the offer. If I can stop thinking about you.” He kissed her impulsively, and she laughed.

Then he paused. “What was that? Did you hear something?”

“No.”

“I did.”

“Maybe it was the wind?” she said.

He looked her over. “Stay behind me.”

She did as he asked, when they heard a voice cry out, “The duke’s cufflinks! They’re gone.”

*

Falstaff gritted his teeth. The Ton thief was here. Of all the times. Why now?

It dawned on him that he hadn’t actually expected the Ton thief to show up. But then he hadn’t expected to fall for the delectable and mysterious Lucy Potts, either, his wanton maid. He appreciated the secret passage for a new reason, but now he’d gone and done it.

Here he was seducing young women in passages when he should have listened to his uncle.

He’d been playing a game and only now realized how serious the stakes were.

He pressed a lever and opened the bookcase, only to see Miss Butters and Miss Adeline there, a candle in Miss Butters’s trembling hands.

Miss Butters’s face fell at the sight of Lucy behind him, and her mouth twisted.

“I thought I heard a noise. While you were showing that woman the secret passage, someone stole your uncle’s cufflinks.

” Her eyes were dark, her voice tight with anger.

“I hope you’re happy, Falstaff. Your party is a grand success.

” She stomped out, leaving them all in darkness.

Miss Azalea simpered, whispering, “Oh, my,” and walked out after her.

Falstaff ran a hand through his hair but hit his mask. He tugged it off and crumpled it in his hands. “Magistrate?”

There was no answer.

“Blast him,” Falstaff swore. “He was supposed to be here.” He turned to Lucy. “You should return to your mistress.”

He did not meet her eyes, promptly returning through the hallways to where guests congregated as the rumors spread like wildfire.

“The Ton thief is here,” one guest said.

“No one’s valuables are safe,” another guest said.

“I knew the old duke was mad,” Mrs. Godalming said. “Such folly to throw a party. Of course the Ton thief would be here.”

At Falstaff’s approach, the guests came to him. One, a woman dressed like a butterfly, asked, “Did you know The Ton thief was here?”

“Of course not,” he said.

One guest said, “I’m leaving.”

Another, this one dressed something like a pirate, added, “Yes. Call for my carriage at once.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to worry,” Falstaff said, trying his best to present a calm and confident demeanor. “As it so happens, I have a plan.”

“A plan? What plan?” a peacock-like noble asked. Others looked at Falstaff, awaiting an explanation.

“Just wait and see. All will be revealed at midnight.”

“Wait a minute,” said the peacock. “You planned for this? You invited the thief?”

“No, how could I? I didn’t know they would be here,” Falstaff said.

He felt a rush of exhilaration. His plan had worked. The Ton thief had come. Now he just needed to catch them.

He walked quickly to the room where the duke’s cufflinks had been on display.

The duke stood in a corner and put a hand to his head.

“I don’t understand what happened. One minute the cufflinks were here, and the next, they were gone.

I came in here to find out why the lights had gone out, and they were gone. ”

Falstaff went up to the magistrate, who looked grim. “Did you see what happened?”

“No, I came in but hid myself away when others entered. I wanted to catch the thief in the act.” He grunted. “I left to use the privy.”

A fat lot of good you did , Falstaff thought sourly, but he did not say so. “Who came in?”

“I came in here at 11 o’clock, and between then and now, they were stolen.” The magistrate looked pointedly at the grandfather clock that ticked away in the corner of the room.

Falstaff checked the time. That left a thirty-minute window during which he had been seducing the maid in the secret passage and the duke’s cufflinks had been stolen.

The magistrate added, “I had one of my men watching the door. In that time before the lights went out, after the first crowd of people viewed the rubies, only six people entered this room, not including yourself, sir.”

“Go on.”

“They were the older woman with the silver hair in the gray-and-pearl dress,” the magistrate started.

Mrs. Godalming , Falstaff thought.

“—a young man in red, dressed like a fox; a woman in all pink; and a lady dressed as a goose or a swan, it might be. And Miss Clara Butters. Oh, and the young lady in blue, the one you pulled into the passage behind the bookshelf. Highly useful feature that, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“It is truly,” Falstaff agreed, wanting to change the subject.

He didn’t feel comfortable with anyone knowing about his dalliance with Miss Potts in the secret passage.

It was no one’s business but theirs. The problem was he knew all the people who had entered the display room.

Each of them had been on Miss Butters’s list of people he simply must invite.

At least one had been a victim, and one of them was the Ton thief, but who?

Falstaff instructed the magistrate and a few footmen to order any carriages the nobles wanted but to delay those of the six people in question. He then asked a footman to show the lady in pink into the room where he and the magistrate waited and to not let in any others.

Miss Skye, the only guest dressed in head-to-toe pink, entered. “Oh my, this is most exciting. The Ton thief, here! I shall have to tell Mother about this. It’s the most exciting thing to happen to me in ages.”

“Did you happen to see anything, Miss Skye?” Falstaff asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. I walked in with the others to see the rubies, of course.

Mr. Fox made a funny remark, though. He said what a funny thing it was to have the cufflinks on display like that.

And wouldn’t it be funny, or rather unfortunate, if someone took them?

I laughed at the very idea of it, but Mr. Fox seemed to think it quite possible, and now they’re gone.

He really was right. I say, were they really stolen? ”

“It does seem that way,” Falstaff said sadly. “Whom do you think might have taken them?”