Page 9 of The Duke's Pet

“You’ll do,” Madam called from the door of her room.

“Aye, she scrubbed up, didn’t she?” Emily grinned and added a dot of rouge to Jemima’s lips. “Press.”

Jemima rolled her lips in on themselves.

“She did.” Madam nodded, then using the door frame as a prop, she turned.

Jemima’s nerves felt as though they were being singed. Although she’d slept in a warm, dry bed, her thoughts had pinged around the way a bird trapped in a shed might.

What will the duke be like?

What will he expect of me?

What if he’s a wicked man with a sharp tongue and fast fists?

Worry and anxiety had become her new companions as the night had stretched on and dawn approached, and now, here they stood next to her, almost as real as Emily.

“My friend.” Emily cupped her face. “Do not look so vexed.”

“It’s hard not to feel that way.” She paused. “And I won’t get a penny for it.”

Emily’s lips tightened. She glanced over her shoulder then leaned close to Jemima. “Which I agree, doesn’t seem fair at all, but...”

“But?”

“You know.” She waggled her fingers.

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh, Jemima. Think about it, you’re going to be in one of the richest houses in Yorkshire. It’ll be full of treasures and trinkets. You really think he’ll notice if a few fall into your pocket or basket?”

“Emily... I can’t. Stealing is wrong. It says so in the Bible.”

“You need to forget about what they taught us in Sunday school now, Jemima, this is about survival.” Again she looked back at Madam’s room. “Take a few shiny little things to sell when you get back, at least a pound’s worth. You’ll make a wage then, you won’t be there for nothing, spreading your legs and pandering to all his kinks.”

Jemima’s mind was spinning. “Kinks? What have you heard about him?”

She shrugged.

“Emily?”

“To be honest, not much. He’s a recluse, ain’t he. So stands to reason no one knows much about him. I’m just guessing that he’s got kinks, that’s how these loners are.”

“So he could be a monster?”

Emily slipped her hands to Jemima’s shoulders and gripped them. She gave her a small shake. “Don’t go thinking that way. What good will come of it? Just think about what I said, only don’t get caught, or you’ll have hell to pay with the duke and Madam.”

Don’t get caught.

Jemima gulped and glanced down the stairwell.

Outside the town clock finished striking twelve.

“Listen, men are not that complicated,” Emily said. “They like to feel important as much as they like to feel a woman’s pussy around their cocks.”

Jemima swallowed, her mouth drying.

“And,” Emily went on, “they like to be obeyed, certainly a man of his standing will.”

---