Page 128 of Their Master

Smith had looked nonplussed. “She asked for it?”

“She requested I continue to groom her and it would be far easier with the table, sir.”

“Oh. Of course, she should have it,” Mr. Smith had said. “I’ll have it sent over tomorrow.”

Something else had occurred to Luke, something his mistress hadnotasked for. “And perhaps she might have the piano?”

Smith had stared at him, not speaking.

The hair on Luke’s neck had stood on end as he’d endured a look that had burned through his skin.

“Has she engaged a new tutor?” Smith had finally asked.

Luke took a deep breath and told his master what he’d long ago guessed. “I believe she plays rather well, sir. I think she did so before moving into your house.” He’d felt increasingly uncomfortable as Smith had continued to stare at him. “I believe it might give her something pleasant to do on the days she cannot go out,” he’d babbled.

Smith had stared for a moment longer, and then nodded. “I will have both sent over.”

Luke didn’t know if his requests had made the other man angry. But what he did know, was that his master had bound and whipped him that night, a treat Luke had only enjoyed once before.

He suspected there was a connection between asking for the table and piano and then receiving such a savage beating and fucking, but he’d decided not to examine it too closely.

If Luke had wondered whether he was doing the right thing by asking for the piano, his mistress’s reaction had assured him that he’d done well.

When it had been delivered she’d clapped her hands and looked as gleeful as a young girl on Christmas morning.

“Oh, thank you, Luke. I know Smith sent the piano, but he would only have done so at your urging. I wanted to write him and ask for it, but”—she’d broken off and shrugged.

Yes, Luke knew why she hadn’t asked. She was afraid of his response—not that he’d deny her the piano, but that he wouldn’t respond to her letter and just send the instrument with no message.

The piano had made the days with bad weather more bearable for her. She really was an excellent musician and all the servants agreed it was divine to live in a house where such music was free to enjoy.

“Luke?”

He realized he’d closed his eyes and opened them. Somehow, his hands had slid beneath Moira’s chemise. Somehow, they had slid higher than her belly. Somehow, they were resting just beneath her breasts.

He jerked his hands back. “I’m terribly sorry. I’m not sure what—”

“I liked it.”

Luke’s erection throbbed at the look that accompanied her words, his lungs freezing in his chest.

She gestured to his tented placket. “I didn’t know—well, I thought—”

“You thought I did not like women.”

It was her turn to swallow, and she nodded. When he didn’t speak, she went on, “All those times you groomed me and I was aroused.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You were not the only one.”

“But you never—”

“You belonged to Mr. Smith.”

Belonged.The word clanged like a spanner tossed onto a tile floor.Belonged.

She took his hand by the wrist and lowered it over her sex. “I no longer belong to anyone.”

Luke could restrain his curiosity no longer. “Will you tell me what happened that night, Moira? Why he sent you away?”

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