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The woman was draped with nothing but a
sheet, her hair tumbling around her waist, a coquettish pout on her
lips. "Spirited tonight, hmm?"

Benedict pinched his nose and prayed for patience.
"Listen to me."

She leaned forward giving him a view that
made him ill with disgust.

"If you do not leave within the next five
seconds, I'm going to remove you myself, and I guarantee you there
will be nothing sensual or erotic about it. Now, get out of my bed
chambers."

Maria's smile fell, her eyes narrowed. "Is
this a new game?"

"No!" he yelled. "Get out!"

Slowly, because Maria was provocative about
everything, she pulled back the blankets of the bed, exposing
herself to him. With languid movements, she reached for the nearest
robe, wrapped it around her naked body and, with a seething glare,
slammed the door.

"That went well." Benedict cursed again, then
tumbled into bed. It was too late, and he was too irritated and
upset with himself to deal with the woman tonight. In the morning…
he would fix everything in the morning.

And hire a new housekeeper as soon as
possible.

His eighth in the past two years.

Meaning, he had been going through at least
four mistresses a year, hiring each of them as his housekeeper in
order to keep things…

Convenient.

Their jobs were simple: be available to
pleasure him at all hours of the day and night, and he would not
only pay them a salary, but on their parting terms give them a
special bonus.

He laughed bitterly.

A bonus?

For what?

Sex?

Convenience?

Utterly sickened, he closed his eyes and
tried to sleep. Tomorrow would be the day the Devil came to terms
with his demons.

Katherine woke earlier
than
usual and quickly dressed in a simple white muslin. If
she was to be decorating and surprising Benedict, she didn't need
to wear anything more lavish.

Besides, she would not be making any morning
or afternoon calls. At least not today.

Excited for her idea, she quickly went to
Bond Street and made several appointments for the house
redecorating. Giddy with excitement, she made her way to Benedict's
home.

It was located in Mayfair, much like hers.
But it was big, so much bigger than she imagined it would be.

Nervous, she bit her lip and knocked.

A crisp-looking butler opened the door and
peered down at her through spectacles.

"His grace has enough servants."

Katherine laughed. Did she truly look that
horrendous? "No, I'm sure his grace wouldn't mind for me to visit.
You see, I'm his
fiancée
."

At that, the butler's lips quirked into a
smile and then his eyes darkened. "You poor thing."

"Pardon?"

He sighed. "I'll see if he is receiving
callers. Why don't I show you to the Lavender room? Would you care
for some tea, miss?"

"Lady Katherine Bourne."

"Pardon, did you say Lady Katherine
Bourne?"

"Yes."

"W-well, why don't you have a seat, there,
right there." His shaky hand pointed to the settee. "And I'll have
Ma—" he coughed. "That is to say, I will have someone, anyone bring
you tea."

"Alright." She smiled warmly and leaned back
against the sofa, taking in the beautiful room surrounding her.

It was done up in purples and eggshell
colors, beautiful actually, and not masculine at all. After a few
minutes, she began to feel the need to snoop. After all, he was to
be her husband in a manner of days.

Her eyes fell on the large bookcase at the
far end of the room. Her gloved hand traced the furniture as she
made her way to the books and began reading the titles.

Odd, they were all in strange languages.
Curious, she picked one up.

And promptly dropped it to the floor.

What type of man kept books with pictures
like — like
that
?

She tried another.

Same thing.

And another, until she had looked through at
least ten books. All of them with graphic pictures she would never
be able to remove from her memory as long as she lived.

Carefully, she put them all back, the last
one, however had fallen on its spine causing the first page to
flutter open.

Scrawled across the page were the words,
My love, Maria.

Who in the blazes was Maria?

A sudden commotion took place outside the
doors. A woman's voice. A man's. And then suddenly the door burst
open.

A beautiful woman with dark hair and dark
eyes came into the room. Her uniform was typical of a servant, and
in her hand was a tray with tea and biscuits.

"Hello," Katherine greeted.

The woman glared.

Katherine cleared her throat. "You must be
the housekeeper?" she guessed.

"Yes," the woman answered crisply.

A butler who stuttered and laughed, and a
beautiful exotic woman with the manners of a streetwalker.

Apparently before any decoration was to take
place, Benedict needed a new staff.

"Please, sit." The woman's eyes fell to the
book in Katherine's hands then snapped back up to her face. "Find
anything interesting, my lady?"

"O-oh, this? No, no, it fell, so I was
putting it back." She felt heat rise to her cheeks as she pushed
the book into its rightful place and shuffled back to the sofa
where the housekeeper was laying out the biscuits and tea.

Katherine couldn't help but notice how
striking the woman was. She could not be much older than Katherine
herself. Jealousy surged, but Katherine fought it with everything
in her. Perhaps Benedict was extending a courtesy. After all, a
woman this striking would surely find herself in a house of ill
repute if left to her own devices to survive. Shame washed over her
jealousy.

As the woman made a curtsy to leave,
Katherine reached out the only way she knew how, politeness. "Thank
you… Apologies, I did not catch your name?" Not that it was typical
for ladies to ask such things, but this woman did not need to know
that.

The woman gave a hollow laugh. "Maria, his
grace's seventh housekeeper in two years."

Odd. "Does he have trouble keeping
housekeepers, Maria?" Katherine asked with amusement tickling her
voice.

Maria turned cold eyes to Katherine. "Let us
just say his grace has a variety of tastes."

Benedict awoke with a
start.

His butler, Marsail, hovered over him, worry
etched in his every feature.

"What the devil are you doing in my
room?"

Marsail cleared his throat. "A young lady is
here to see you, your grace. I thought it best to keep her away
from other parts of the house, but I fear…"

"Who? Who is it?" Benedict demanded.

Marsail began to perspire. "She claims she is
your
fiancée
, but that is a ridiculous notion, is it not?"
He patted his forehead with a handkerchief.

Benedict reached for Marsail's coat and
pulled him close. "Tell me that Maria is no longer here. Tell me
that Lady Katherine has been locked in the very room you put her
in."

Marsail looked away. "Maria stole the
key."

"How does a tiny woman steal a key from
you
, of all people?"

Marsail began to shake.

"Never mind." Benedict cursed and pulled on
his clothes in rapid fashion. His valet rolled his eyes when he
strolled into the room, but aided in making him presentable,
mumbling something under his breath that at least his grace was
choosing to wear clothes after such a late evening.

Benedict chose not to comment.

He raced down the stairs and pushed open the
doors to the Lavender room with such urgency he could have sworn
they were going to fly off their hinges.

Katherine sat prim and proper, tea in hand,
but her eyes were distant.

"Katherine?"

She licked her lips. "I shouldn't have come."
She placed her tea on the table and rose.

"No, don't." Benedict reached out to her, but
she pulled away.

"Benedict."

"Yes?" His voice felt shaky. Devil take it,
he was nearly trembling with fear, shame… all of the above.

"Why have you had seven housekeepers in the
last two years? Why would a man need that many replacements…
unless…"

She was assuming the worst, not that he
didn't deserve it. "You should sit back down."

"I don't want to sit back down!" she yelled,
her arms clenched at her sides. "Explain to me why you would need
so many housekeepers." Her eyes pleaded with his. It was as if she
was begging him to lie, to tell her that her suspicions were not
correct.

He looked down at the floor. He couldn't bear
to look at her, not now.

She walked toward him then. He saw her shoes
beneath her dress, and slowly raised his eyes to meet her face.

"Tell me," she said.

"A man doesn't need seven housekeepers in two
years, not unless he's the absolute devil. Not unless he hires them
to be his live-in mistress. Not unless he's so deranged that he
values convenience above all else."

"Alright." Katherine bit her lip. "Alright."
She repeated, her head nodding up and down as if she was trying to
make sense of the information.

"But…" Benedict grabbed her arms and pulled
her against him. "I'm not that man anymore. I cannot be that
man."

Katherine said nothing.

"I-I…" Benedict ran his hands through his
hair. " Damn it, I promise you, I had every intention of getting
rid of Maria last night when—"

"When?" Katherine's eyes narrowed.

"When I was in his bed," Maria's voice
announced from the entryway. "Isn't that right, Benedict?"

Katherine jerked back in horror.

"You are a witch." Benedict glared at Maria.
"Leave my house this instant."

"But what about your promise?" Maria tilted
her head.

Benedict groaned.

"Promise?" Katherine asked.

"Yes, you see, his grace here is so brilliant
in the way he hires mistresses. We live and work here, and then
when he cuts us loose, as he's doing this moment, he settles us a
grand sum of money for our troubles. I take it…" Maria looked
Katherine up and down. "…that you will be housekeeper number
eight?"

"That's it!" Katherine yelled and surged
forward. Benedict didn't stop her, mainly because he knew he
deserved whatever physical blow she would deal him.

But it wasn't him she was charging after.

Nor was it him that she hit, repeatedly.

He really shouldn't be amused. It wasn't the
time to laugh, but seeing Katherine claw at Maria was a proud
moment for him.

Maria screamed until finally Katherine
relented and pushed her. "If you ever speak of me in that way
again, I'll kill you."

Benedict wanted to add how truthful she was
being. After all she had nearly killed him, how many times by
accident now?

Katherine continued to push Maria until she
was out of the room. "And if I ever see you here again, I'll not
hesitate to shoot you. His grace will stay true to his promise. He
will give you the money you deserved, spreading your legs like a
whore. But know, this man," she pointed back to Benedict with fire
in her eyes, "is mine. Do I make myself clear?"

Maria nodded several times before gathering
her skirts and running out the front door.

Katherine's whole body shook.

Benedict couldn't comfort her, couldn't touch
her, not after everything. Never had he felt so dirty, so debased.
To see his innocent
fiancée
yell at his former mistress
after revealing so much about his affairs. He could not bear it.
Could not fathom it.

He truly was the Devil Duke.

"Benedict," Katherine said without turning.
"You will still marry me."