Carnal Pleasures (6 page)

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Authors: Blaise Kilgallen

BOOK: Carnal Pleasures
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Griff followed the countess up the stairs to the second storey. “You and I will speak later,” Agina said to him, glancing over her shoulder and dismissing him, letting the door to her bedchamber snap shut behind her.

Phew!
A reprieve,
Griff thought, feeling relieved and much happier that the wench had finally shown up.

After the countess shut the door to her suite, Griff immediately went to his room. Yanking the door open roughly, he was still aggravated by Agina’s mauling. He needed a drink, something to calm him. He stripped off his dress sword and red uniform tunic and threw them on the bed. His top boots clicked across the uncarpeted section of oak flooring in his bedchamber. A decanter and glass sat in readiness on a side table next to a leather armchair. He poured himself a good dollop of what tasted to him like smuggled French brandy.

Easing into a comfortable chair, his balls still on fire with the hard-on from the countess’s irksome teasing, Griff spread his thighs and hoped soon his damn cock would shrink to normal size. Massaging his balls didn’t help. He was almost ready to stick his dick in a keyhole and get release. Griff stared glumly into the unlit fireplace until something took his mind off his arousal. He thought he heard a low growl coming from somewhere nearby. Did the countess keep a watchdog in her bedroom? He had seen her fondling and cooing with two cats earlier that day.

Now he sat up and listened harder.
Damnation! Am I hearing things?

He swallowed another mouthful of the potent liquor, letting it burn its way to his stomach and leaned back again. His hearing remained on alert, but he heard no more growling, so he put the idea of a dog anywhere in the immediate area out of his head.

While he mused and sipped his brandy, he digested the information he had gleaned from the episode with countess last night. So, the witch has a stepdaughter. She had never mentioned family to him before, until she made up a convenient nephew. Catching on, he realized Dulcina must be the earl’s daughter by his first wife. Now Griff pondered his options. How old was the stepdaughter? What did she look like? Not that it mattered that much to him, but the countess said she was plain. How plain? He would wed a cross-eyed, buck-toothed scarecrow if she had money—and lots of it. He was also very curious as to how large her dowry was. The countess never said how much he would be entitled to when he married the girl.

Griff took another swallow of brandy. He hoped he didn’t have to keep his eyes shut and hold his breath to fuck this one, too.

 

Chapter Six

The dressing bell was rung, waking Dulcie from her short nap. The balmy eve faded into purple and orange shades of twilight. The lamps in the hallways above and belowstairs were swiftly attended to by a score of servants bringing light and warmth to the elegant town house’s decor. When a maid tapped on Dulcie’s door, Simon growled low in his throat. His hackles rose. He was nervous and protective because someone unfamiliar was outside in the hall. He ceased when Dulcie ordered him to be quiet.

The young maid gasped and took several rapid steps backward when the large, black dog, pink tongue hanging out, and showing dangerous-looking fangs to the maid’s fearful eyes, appeared when Dulcie opened the door.

“It’s all right,” Dulcie cautioned, leaning down to hold Simon’s collar as she patted his head with her other hand. “You needn’t be afraid of him. He’s a little nervous because he’s in strange surroundings. He doesn’t know anyone here, and it makes him uncomfortable. I’m afraid we are both a bit undone since we arrived in London, but we’ll be fine tomorrow.” Dulcie smiled sweetly at the rosy-cheeked, timid-looking maid.

“Oh, Miss … Lady Dulcina … I mean. Lawd, he did give me a fright, he did.” The girl’s blue eyes popped wider as she spoke, and she froze like a statue, unmoving.

Her anxiety was quite evident to Dulcie. Some people were fearful of large dogs. She knew the girl’s heart was probably beating fast beneath her snowy apron.

“He won’t bite you,” Dulcie promised, coaxing the girl to come inside while pushing the door wider. “Now,” she asked, “have you come to tell me that my stepmother wishes to see me?”

“Er, no, milady, I was told to help you get dressed. Supper is in a half hour. I’m to unpack your belongings and see what you wish to wear down below.”

“Oh. Well then, do come in. What is your name?”

“Marnie, milady.”

“Can you give me a hint as to what I should put on?”

Keeping one eye on Simon, and moving slowly, Marnie approached the bed. Her eyes blinked several times as she noted Dulcie’s single portmanteau lying open, packed with what seemed a few wrinkled, colorless gowns. She hummed in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” Dulcie asked.

“No … ’tis only that…”

“What?” Dulcie continued, still puzzled.

“Have the rest of your things been left downstairs, milady? If so, I’ll find Robert and have him fetch your trunk up right off.”

Dulcie frowned. Obviously, the maid was confused. “This is all that I brought with me.”

Poor Marnie turned the color of beets.

“I don’t own anything fancy,” Dulcie went on, spreading open her portmanteau and pulling out a dull, green gown with little trimming or any prettiness to excite a man’s interest. She shook out the folds. “This will do if you can press out the wrinkles for me. Perhaps, you’ll be kind enough to help me with my hair, too. I’m afraid it’s in quite a tangle.”

“Yes, milady.” Marnie cautiously scurried out of the room to do what she was bid, the plain gown draped over her arm.

* * * *

The little maid is quite solicitous, Dulcie thought, as the girl carefully brushed and fussed with Dulcie’s hair. When she held up a hand mirror to show what she had accomplished, Dulcie slipped on her spectacles, her eyes gleaming with pleasure behind the lenses. “My goodness! You’re a wonder, Marnie,” she said. “I never looked so fine.”

However, Dulcie’s expression soon dimmed. “Unfortunately, you must take my hair down again. What I’m wearing doesn’t match the coiffure’s elegance.” She smiled ruefully. “I am simply a country mouse come to goggle at London’s world and what goes on here in the Metropolis,” Dulcie explained. She began pulling hairpins out of her hair. “You must brush it out again, Marnie. I’ll simply tie it back with a ribbon.”

“Oh, milady, what a shame!”

“You can dress my hair after I purchase a few fancier gowns.” She glanced back at the girl, who wore a distressed look on her rotund, freckled countenance.

“Oh, I do hope so, milady. It did look very nice on you when I did it up.”

“We’ll see.”

After the maid did as she was asked, and tied a ribbon around Dulcie’s tresses, Dulcie rose from her seat in front of the vanity and smiled. “I expect it is time to go down to supper.”

Simon yipped when the dinner gong rang a second time. He trotted toward the door of Dulcie’s room and sat staring up at it. She realized the dog was anxious for another outing.

“I will finish your unpacking while you are at supper, milady, but I hope you’re not leaving, er, the dog here with me. I-I’m still a bit nervous with the animal. You see, the countess never allowed a dog in the house, and…”

“Not to worry, Marnie. Simon will go down to supper with me.”

“Oh, my!” The girl’s eyebrows jumped a notch higher on her forehead.

Dulcie attached the dog’s leash and smiled at her maid. “Direct me to the dining room, will you? I’m afraid I don’t know my way around the house.”

“’Tis to the left and toward the rear of the foyer, milady, but…”

“I’m sure the countess will accept Simon’s presence.” As she left the room, Dulcie held tight to her determination that the dog was to accompany her wherever she went.

The young maid watched, a worried frown creasing her forehead. She peeked from the doorway as Dulcie started down the hallway, leading the dog, and descending one of the curving staircases to the foyer.

Dulcie hesitated on a bottom step, wondering if she should take Simon outside before going into supper. While she was making up her mind, a deep, male voice captured her attention, and she swiveled her head toward him. “Lady Dulcina?” A tall footman approached her. “Er, milady, may I be of service?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, gifting him with a smile. “I suppose you can.”

Simon sniffed curiously at the liveried servant’s shiny, buckled shoes and white stockings, then sat on his haunches next to Dulcie.

“I’ve been summoned to supper. Can you tell me what door leads…”

“Follow me, milady,” he replied quickly. ”Shall I hold on to your animal for you?”

“No, Simon is coming with me.” Dulcie ignored his surprised expression when he raised his eyebrows at her.

Rearranging his countenance, Joshua, the footman, said, “As you wish, milady. The countess awaits you in the blue parlor.” He threw open the double doors with an air of hesitancy. “Lady Dulcina … er, and her
dog
,” he announced and quickly shut the doors behind Dulcie and Simon.

Dulcie started to approach the countess with Simon at her side to greet her stepmother.

“Dog!” The countess screeched from where she sat and rose immediately to face the doorway. “Was it you who brought that dirty animal into this house?” Agina exclaimed, seeing the pair drawing near. “Dulcina, get rid of that animal this minute! I don’t allow dogs in my house.”

At the sound of her strident tone, Simon rumbled deep in his throat.

Dulcie stooped and stroked his head. “Shush. Good boy.” When she straightened, Dulcie held herself ramrod straight as if she had a metal poker up her spine. “Mother, Simon comes with me wherever I go. If you forbid his presence here, then he and I shall simply turn about and return to Bonne Vista.”

“How dare you answer me that way? Have you no manners? Your impertinence is particularly unwise of you, although I seem to recall you’ve always been flippant, unruly, and rag-mannered. You should have learned by now how to behave. I’m not surprised, though,” Agina grumbled. “You have run wild without any real discipline for far too many years.” The countess glowered at her. “Well, we shall see about that. I won’t stand for your tart remarks, Dulcina. I expect an apology from you this very minute.”

Dulcie hadn’t expected such a furious scold from her stepmother upon entering the parlor.

“Keep that filthy animal way from me!” Agina exclaimed louder, hurriedly looking around. “Griff, catch hold of that beast. Don’t let him anywhere near me.”

Dulcie could scarcely suppress the laughter bubbling up into her throat. Simon was the most gentle, trainable dog she knew. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. And he had always been clean. But her stepmother was afraid of him! She wondered if together, she and her dog could manage to get them sent back to Surrey where they belonged, quicker than she had hoped. Holding out a hand for the dog’s leash, the fair-haired stranger strolled toward Dulcie.

Simon wagged his tail when the man came close, sniffing up and down his booted legs from toes to knees. Seeming satisfied, Simon lay down flat, his nose stuck between his big paws.

Dulcie glanced up to meet the man’s eyes. She recognized amusement shimmering in his gray-eyed visage. “I once owned a dog like this one,” he said very low, his melodious baritone tinged with good humor. “Perhaps, that is why he is friendly toward me. I did hear him growling a little earlier, however, and wondered where the sound came from. You must occupy the room next to mine.”

“Simon only growls if he is in strange surroundings. Or, if he is in the company of people he isn’t sure of or doesn’t like,” she whispered, throwing a quick glance toward the countess.

With his back toward Agina, Griff slowly winked at Dulcie and said, almost under his breath, “Ahh. So perhaps he’s not terribly fond of your stepmother. But I believe you had better apologize to her just the same.”

Dulcie handed Simon’s leash to the stranger and went to stand in front of her frazzled, scowling stepmother. “Yes, it was quite rude of me, Mother, to speak to you that way. I forgot my manners.”

But you were just as rude,
Dulcie thought
. You weren’t here to welcome me even though I did my best to get here as rapidly as you demanded.

“I am sorry, but I will not send Simon away. I’ve raised him up from a pup. He is very well behaved.” Dulcie’s lips twitched into a smile unconsciously. “He is probably better behaved than I am. I am totally to blame, so forgive me. I assure you Simon will be no trouble to anyone while he is here. I will keep him out of your sight as much as possible.”

The countess stared at her stepdaughter and read the determination in the girl’s eyes. “What of my darling cats? I know he will terrorize them!”

“I don’t believe so, Mother. Simon is quite fond of cats and they get along fine. We have several at home at Bonne Vista, and he has never hurt them.”

“Very well, then,” Agina released an annoyed huff but gave in because it was necessary for her to do so if she were to get the hoydenish chit married and hang onto the luxuries she enjoyed in life. “See that you watch him, Dulcina. He’s not to torment my babies. If he does, I shall do something worse to him.”

Shifting her attention elsewhere, Agina said, “Griff, take that … animal out to the hallway and give him to a footman to care for. I won’t have that detestable beast in the same room with me. Then return to us, and we’ll go in to supper.”

Dulcie said to the stranger, “You might ask the footman to take Simon for a brief outing. It’s time, I think. Thank you.” She smiled as Simon trotted nicely beside the person her stepmother had called Griff.

The countess turned to her stepdaughter again. “Well, then, let me look at you, Dulcina.”

Dulcie stole another sideways glance at her stepmother. The countess was still lovely, her golden hair unadorned by a widow’s cap. The shiny tresses coiled into a loose knot at the back of her head. A pair of magnificent blue eyes dominated her oval face. Dulcie saw one reason why her father fell under the woman’s magical spell. It had to be because of her angelic beauty, certainly not her warm, charming manner.

Agina eyed her stepdaughter’s appearance. Dulcie knew her stepmother was seeing all the detrimental things about her—her unexciting looks, her slightly robust physique, and her dowdy clothes. Even
she
knew she was plain-faced. Nor did she assume her figure was the least bit attractive. Her breasts were too generous and her hips were too wide. But she did know her legs were long and shapely from all that walking. She had inherited large, brown eyes and an unruly abundance of wavy hair from her mother’s side of the family. When Marnie had showed her what she could do with it, Dulcie was surprised that a hairstyle could so change one’s appearance.

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