Page 16 of Legacy of Succession

“Ladies, as my son’s property, only he is allowed to touch you intimately. You have no say in the matter, and it’ll serve you to learn that lesson quickly. The courtesy is also extended to me as the ruler of the society. The others at the table are allowed to touch you but not between your thighs, unless expressly given permission.”

I snort quietly. If any of them try to touch me, I’ll break their bloody hands.

“Miss Hamilton, do you have something to say?”

Shit!

“No, Your Grace.”

“Oh, come on,” he chuckles. “I’m sure the entire table would love to hear your feelings on what’s wrong with the world.”

“The world’s fine. It’s the people in this asylum that have lost the plot.” Me and my stupid mouth. Why won’t it be quiet? Shush, I tell it. We want to escape so we need to behave.

“You feel my household is suffering from some kind of insanity.” He pushes his chair back and comes toward me. Keep your goddamn mouth shut, I tell myself. Of course, it doesn’t work.

“Well, I’m pretty certain normal people don’t buy and sell girls.”

The Duke stands in front of me now.

“I think you’ll find that it was your household that did the buying and the giving away. What am I supposed to do with five pretty girls? I’m just following the natural law of things.”

“You’re a freak who will get his comeuppance one of these days.”

The Duke reaches out and grips me tightly around the throat. The plinths are low, so I’m at the perfect height for him to grab. I can barely breathe as I feel his strong fingers squeeze tighter around my slender neck and lift me off my feet.

“Your Grace.” Nicholas pushes his chair back with a loud scrape on the tiled floor.

“Sit down, boy.”

“She’s mine to punish, not yours.”

The Duke drops me, and I tumble back down onto the plinth, gasping for breath. He turns to his son. I can’t see the look on his face, but I can feel the tension in the air.

“Sorry, I got ahead of myself for a moment.” The Duke faces me again and holds his hand out. I reluctantly accept it and allow myself to be pulled to my feet. Big mistake. The Duke pulls me toward him with a caress to my breast. I want to tell him to get off me, but the look on Nicholas’ face distracts me. The pain is back, and there is jealously intermixing with it. He wants to stop his father, but he knows, on this, he can’t. This is all a game between him and the Duke. I’m just a pawn in the middle. Can I use that to my advantage?

I step quietly back onto the display stand. I hold my body straight. Years of deportment lessons come in handy. The Duke goes back to his seat at the table, and the entrée is brought in. Elizabeth, Amelia, and I stand there while the food and wine flows at the table. The chatter of the men fills the room. I can here talk of conquests with ladies, discussions about business deals, and I take it all in, learning everything possible, so that I can prepare my fight. I’ll not submit to these people without starting a war between them all, if necessary.

The main course is cleared away, and several of the men, now a few glasses of the finest claret down, turn their attention to us ladies. I want to cut their eyes out with the cheese knives that are being placed in front of them, on the table.

“Gentlemen, you may inspect my son’s acquisitions if you wish. It’s in the rules that you can touch them. Just remember between the legs is off limits.” The last words the Duke speaks are said with a snide smirk at his son.

I brace myself as the men slide back their chairs, causing as eerie scraping sound from the floor. Stay calm, I tell myself — you can get through this. Hell, who am I kidding? I’ve never been naked before a man in my life, and now, I’m in front of forty plus men looking at me as if I’m a popsicle on a stick.

One of them, a man in his fifties with a comb over and greasy appearance, steps forward toward my plinth.

“Her tits are far too small. Nothing to play with.” He flicks his hand over my breast and pinches the nipple. I ball my fists at my side, knowing I can’t move. If I do, I’ll hit him, and I’m actually too scared to find out what the punishment for that would be. Someone runs their hand over my backside.

“This is pretty good though.” He pinches a cheek. “Nicholas, I bet she takes it great up the ass.” He calls over to the Duke’s son, who’s sitting forward in his chair. His whole body is rigid with tension, and, it appears, he can’t bear to look our way. Prick!

The man runs his hand around the lower half of my body. I feel sick, sitting at the back of my throat, but I’m pretty certain that if I hurl on him, it’s going to cause problems. He stops his hand just inches from the ‘v’ between my legs. All of a sudden, he’s pulled aside.

“Too close,” Nicholas snarls at him.

“I wasn’t going to break the rules, My Lord.”

The bell rings to signal the next course. The man who had his hands all over me returns to his seat. Nicholas looks up at me.

“Turn around,” he snarls.

I go to open my mouth but think better of it and spin on the plinth.

“You two as well,” he orders Elizabeth and Amelia. He stomps back to his seat, and the cheese course is served. I don’t know if not facing the men is better, or not. I can feel my body shake. What kind of hell is this? Will I survive it?

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