Page 32 of The Duke's Pet

Jemima spooned in more broth. Yes, she was here at Hillcrest, but although there was food and warmth, there were also harsh punishments and strict rules to contend with. Not forgetting being humiliated and made to perform as a kitten.

They talked more of her life on the farm. The duke seemed particularly interested in her knowledge of crops. She also explained how she could weave and made reed baskets to sell in the local market. Unfortunately the flood had washed away the reeds, taking with it her last source of income from the land.

He refilled her glass twice and soon her head felt a little foggy and her body heavy. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant and she enjoyed watching his mouth move as he spoke of his estate and his ancestors who’d lived there before him. Shadows danced on his face, the candlelight flickering in a slight draft. His features were strong and defined, and the way he moved, his steady gaze left her in no doubt, that despite his quirks, he was a confident man—a man who expected to be obeyed and demanded the best from the people around him.

She found herself hoping that she could please him, that he would think her worthy of being here as his companion... his virgin.

When I enter another woman it will be because we both want that.

Her mind drifted when he stood and walked to the fireplace to stoke the dwindling flames. Did that mean he wouldn’t take her by force? He wouldn’t throw himself on her and demand she spread her legs and take his cock?

Special.

Could sex that was paid for ever be special?

The duke must think so for he had done that very thing.

“We will retire now,” he said, hanging the poker on its hook. “Mrs. Cook will clear this away.”

She stood and brushed a crumb from her dress.

He glanced down at his own shirt and frowned. “I should apologize for my attire.”

“There is no need to.”

He swept his hand down the right side of his shirt. “The paint, I should have changed for dinner, but...” He shrugged. “I am not used to guests, I forgot.”

“I don’t stand on ceremony.”

He took her hand. “That is good, because neither do I.”

As they walked from the dining room she thought of the secluded life he led at Hillcrest. With just two members of staff he saw rarely, he’d really been cut off from everything and everyone. Was it any wonder he’d hired some female company?

And is it any wonder his mind has wandered down this peculiar route of having a human little kitten?

“My little kitten will sleep with me,” he said.

A bundle of nerves coiled in her belly. Despite what he’d said this was going to be it, she was sure. She was going to lose her virginity.

“I wouldn’t want you to get cold. It is only May; a chill still creeps through the night.”

He set his hand on the small of her back again as they climbed the stairs. The weight and heat of it seemed to scorch her; like before she liked it there, but also it made her nervous now they were rising to the next level of the house.

He directed her to large double oak doors, then opened them.

“This is my bedchamber,” he said. “The views are quite lovely though of course it’s nighttime now so you will not be able to appreciate them.”

The room was large and dark save for a set of four lit candles in the corner of the room, beside the bed. The bed was a lavish four-poster with floral swags. In the recess of a window, the curtains undrawn, were two plush chairs. A tiled fireplace held an unlit stack of kindling.

She breathed in the slightly musty scent and wondered when Mrs. Cook had last wiped her duster around.

“There is a wardrobe here.” He stepped to the left. “You may hang your clothing up and use anything you find within it. I see Mrs. Cook has already brought your basket up, likely when she came to prepare the fire and light the candles.”

“Thank you.” Jemima stepped up to the curtains and pulled them. The window was huge and the fabric heavy; it took her a moment to set them neat and straight.

“You prefer the curtains closed at night?”

“Yes, don’t you?”

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