Page 4 of In a Rake’s Embrace (Sins & Sensibilities #3)
CHAPTER 4
A gatha braced herself as the Earl of Radbourne turned to face her. His expression was inscrutable, and his gaze was as piercing as ever.
“I will help you.”
She blinked, shock rippling through her. Delight surged, so overwhelming that she nearly asked why he had decided to help her. But she stopped herself—his reasons didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had agreed.
His voice, calm and steady, cut through her whirling thoughts.
“There are lessons you’ll need to learn if you wish to flourish here. To know your boundaries, it’s best to explore them before you find yourself caught off guard, forced to do something you don’t want and something that will hurt you.”
Agatha’s breath hitched as a flood of emotions surged through her. His words showed an unexpected concern for her safety, leaving her surprised and unsettled. She had expected coldness or detachment, but this ... this was kindness, and it disarmed her. Such compassion had been rare in her life, and she wasn’t quite sure how to process it.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said softly.
“There’s no need for thanks,” he replied, his tone firm but not unkind. “Each time we meet, I will test a boundary. You’ll learn how to recognize and hold them. You will also learn how to flirt, how to read a man’s desire, and how to balance your innocence with just the right hint of carnality. Listen to how I speak and pattern my accent. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Agatha swallowed, feeling a strange fascination rising within her. The promise of control—the ability to determine her limits—gave her a sense of empowerment she hadn’t expected or thought about. That she was so na?ve was a cause of mortification, but she wanted to learn. “I understand,” she said, her voice steady as she nodded.
“If at any point you are uncomfortable with something,” he added, his voice softening, “tell me. We stop the moment you feel it’s too much.”
His gaze held hers, the weight of his promise lingering between them. Agatha felt a sense of safety, however fleeting, in those words. The situation was still overwhelming, but for the first time, she felt she wasn’t entirely at the mercy of the world around her and her desperation.
“I agree,” she said, her heart pounding as the enormity of what she had just committed to settled over her like a heavy cloak.
“I will touch you,” Lord Radbourne said, his voice low and steady.
“I know.”
“You will touch me.”
“I know.”
“I will teach you to be comfortable with pleasure but understand—auctioning yourself to a gentleman does not guarantee it will be pleasurable. Let me know if you would rather not learn the difference.”
Agatha hesitated, her mind racing. “Allow me to answer that at a later time.”
He gave a single, measured nod. “Under no circumstances will I put my cock in you. You will, in that regard, remain a virgin for the night of your auction.”
She nodded, her throat tight. She almost asked what a cock was, but the words stuck in her throat, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. His gaze sharpened, and amusement flickered in his eyes for a fleeting moment before he looked away.
“I agree.”
“Good. Some men’s cocks are larger than others, and some men are rougher in their bed play than others. I can use my fingers to ensure your body is used to penetration, and you will not bear too much pain on the night you hand yourself over. Or, if you wish, I will not use them. What do you prefer?”
A most peculiar sensation unspooled low in her belly at the thought of his fingers on her. God, what is this feeling ? “Would … would they know?”
“In my experience,” he said drily, his gaze gleaming. “Many men have no notion of determining if a lady is chaste. However, my touch might rid you of a virginal barrier, or it may not.”
Some of her misery and doubt loosened its knot. “I want to be as prepared as possible to feel less pain on the auction night.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in acknowledgment and his stare unexpectedly felt like a hot, delicate touch kissing over her skin.
“We’ll start tomorrow, Miss Woodville.”
Agatha lowered into a curtsy. “Thank you, Lord Radbourne.”
He made no reply, and she quickly turned, practically fleeing the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and she found herself face-to-face with Madam Rebecca, who was pacing the hallway.
“Did the earl agree?” Madam Rebecca asked, her voice eager.
“Yes,” Agatha said, still trying to steady her breathing.
The madam clapped her hands, delighted. “Miss Woodville, we will have a very successful future working together.”
Agatha met her gaze, her voice firm. “Once the auction is over, I will be leaving. I have a family waiting for me. That is the only reason I am here.”
Madam Rebecca hesitated for a moment, then gave a slow nod. “As you wish.”
Just then, a young servant girl hurried down the hallway, her steps quick and efficient.
“This is Molly,” the madam said with a wave of her hand. “She will be your lady’s maid. She’ll style your hair and ensure you’re dressed suitably for your lessons. Molly will show you to your room.”
Molly curtsied briefly, her gaze warm and polite. “This way, Miss Woodville.”
Agatha followed the young maid up the grand staircase to the fourth floor. As they ascended, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her life had taken an irreversible turn tonight. She felt thrilled yet equally dreadful, knowing her life would change in ways she could barely imagine. But there was also something else—a strange sense of anticipation that she hadn’t expected. For the first time, she felt she might hold the reins of her own fate.
At the top of the stairs, Molly led her down a long, dimly lit corridor until they reached a door at the end. The maid opened it, and Agatha stepped inside, her breath catching in surprise. Her chambers were far more luxurious than she had expected. Tastefully furnished, the room was elegant without being overly ornate. The delicate robin’s-egg-blue wallpaper was complemented by drapes of the same hue, adding a softness to the space. A large bed, draped in rich fabrics, dominated the room, while a vanity with a gilded mirror stood against one wall. An armoire was in the corner, and by the fireplace, a chaise longue invited relaxation. A soft fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room.
Agatha stood in the center of the room, momentarily overwhelmed by the unexpected beauty and comfort. It was nothing like the sparse conditions she had grown accustomed to.
Molly hovered by the door. “Is there anything you require, miss?”
Agatha shook her head, offering the girl a small smile. “No, thank you.”
After a polite curtsy, Molly left Agatha alone in the quiet, dimly lit room. She stepped over to the vanity, her fingers brushing over the smooth wood as she tried to gather her thoughts. The sheer gown Madam Rebecca had provided earlier felt far too revealing now, even though Agatha had become somewhat accustomed to its feel against her skin. A small part of her wanted to change into the cotton nightgown she had brought with her, to wrap herself in something familiar and modest.
But she dismissed the thought almost immediately. No. I need to get used to scandalous things . Agatha slipped out of the sheer gown and laid it carefully over the back of a chair. Then, with a deep breath, she climbed onto the bed, the cool sheets brushing against her bare skin. Lying naked, she stared up at the canopy, her mind spinning with all that had happened and what lay ahead.
Have you ever played with your pussy or touched it?
Her heart squeezed. She took a steady breath, her hand drifting to rest lightly on her abdomen, fingers inching lower with an unhurried curiosity. Her heart tapped insistently, and an unfamiliar, tantalizing ache pulsed low in her belly, settling between her thighs. Agatha frowned, letting her fingers pause atop the delicate curls that shielded her sex, acutely aware of a sensation she’d never experienced—a restless, almost aching need.
The earl’s words hinted that ladies sometimes touched themselves for reasons beyond mere necessity. She bit her lower lip, and a quiver stirred through Agatha’s belly as she lowered her fingers, slipping past the soft barrier of curls. She touched her sex gently, gasping—a soft, startled sound that felt foreign, as if it had escaped from someone else.
An almost intoxicating warmth unfurled, coaxing her hand into a slow, exploratory glide over her folds. Each delicate touch seemed to provoke an awareness that set her nerves alight. The ache in her belly deepened, and it felt like a sharp pull, almost pleading for more. Her heartbeat quickened, and her breaths grew shallow. Then, after a trembling pause, she let her hand fall to her side, rolling onto her belly. Her nipples brushed against the sheet, the subtle friction awakening her senses anew, leaving her both astonished and curious by this discovery.
I will touch you .
The low murmur of the earl’s words teased her. Was this how he planned to touch her? Agatha’s body flushed, and she buried her face against the pillow.
This is just the beginning .
Agatha would do what she needed to do, and she would learn. She would survive. She would save her family and provide well for them. She would allow the earl to touch and explore her body, doing whatever wasnecessary to teach her the art of seduction. There was no fear at the notion but a deep sense of curiosity, one that both terrified and thrilled her.