The Hunt Club Chronicles Bundle (38 page)

She moved behind him, set her hands to his shoulders and squeezed. “You must be very angry to leave his side at such a time. He is careless with his affections. I do not understand why he looks elsewhere when he has you. I know I would not.”

Francis sighed as her hands kneaded his tense muscles. “As I’ve told you before, the duke does not see me that way. But his behavior worries me more every day. He grows bolder when he should take greater care. The club has made him feel invincible.”

Gads Marinari’s hands worked magic. Tension fled under her determined assault. He closed his eyes to savor the short moment of simple pleasure.

Her breath tickled his ear. “Yet he does not dabble here. He goes elsewhere when any one of us would welcome him with open arms. He is said to be a man of large appetites and wicked passions. The others are disappointed that no one has ever come close to tempting him and can tell us if the tales are true.”

Francis moved his head, lest she attempt to kiss him as she had once before. “He has his rules, many of them. He will not dabble with a servant who is dependent on him for their livelihood. Perhaps he should, and then I might not have to perform surgery on him so often. What am I going to do with him? I cannot watch over him every second of every day.”

“Perhaps it is time you forgot
your
caution. Would the duke’s life be safe from harm if he dabbled with you instead of those frivolous lords and ladies he favors?” Her arms wrapped tight about his chest and held him in place. “Perhaps you should seduce him and keep him in his own bed with you.”

She laughed against his neck and Francis fought against the restraint and suggestion. But Marinari was very strong. She would not release him. Her breath tickled his ear, her lips pressed to the skin of his jaw. Regardless of how practical her suggestion sounded, he had no idea how to go about seducing another man, let alone the duke.

He shook his head.

Marinari laughed at his denial. “I think you could entice him easily enough. Do you see how straightforward it can be to get a man to rise? You harden for me because I am touching you. Yet you do not find me the least bit attractive under normal circumstances, do you?”

“I don’t.” Francis confessed. He did not find a man in women’s clothing worthy of more than his surprise. It wasn’t his business who did though. But his prick had thickened enough to cause a disturbing bulge in his trousers. Perhaps there was something to her words. The only man that effected him was the duke, and no other before this. “Release me.”

Her deep chuckle barked through the room. “I imagine the duke would not say that to you. He may try to hide it but his gaze follows you. He lusts for you and I saw the flare of jealousy in his eyes the last time he was here when he found me alone with you. I think you should do something about him before he rejoins society. What better time than when he is injured and confined to his bed.”

Seduce a patient? “That’s a despicable suggestion.”

Marinari’s arms slid from Francis and she circled the chair to meet his gaze. “Is the duke worth it? You know his tastes, and he is fond of you. You will never know if you do not try. Just be sure to relate all the particulars when you are done. I like to keep a log of gentlemen’s dimension.” Her eyes dipped. “I should like to judge yours, too.”

Francis battered her hand away as she reached toward the placard of his trousers. The minx was not touching him. The only man allowed would be the duke. He heaved a weary sigh. Marinari’s suggestion was very tempting. But could he give the duke what he needed? He’d never know until he tried, he supposed. The same as with everything in life.

He stood, suddenly uncomfortable with his thoughts. “I’ll check on Felicity and be on my way.”

Marinari sauntered to the door. “Good luck. I’ll leave a little package for you in here before you depart. You may find the contents useful in the days to come.” She wriggled her fingers at him and swept out.

Alone again, Francis heaved a sigh and dismissed his brief moment of madness. He would not be seducing the duke this night or any other night. There was no point considering the notion. He collected the few things he needed and made his way toward Felicity’s chamber door. He tapped lightly, heard a deep voiced murmur, and barged his way in. “I said no visitors.”

Mr. Banks sat cross legged on the end of Miss Felicity’s bed, cards and a handful of coins piled between them. Felicity looked to be winning. He quirked a brow.

Felicity subsided to her pillows. “Good evening, sir.”

“Miss Felicity. I do hope you’ve been resting.”

Her eyes strayed to the young man climbing from her bed. “I’ve followed your instructions to the letter, and your colleague, Mr. Hibbert, should have told you I was, too. But Mr. Banks is determined to entertain me with cards during my recuperation.” Her fingers slid through the pile of coins but her gaze followed Banks with an appreciative smile.

“Very good. Mr. Banks, if you wouldn’t mind making yourself scarce I should like to examine the patient.”

“I’d rather stay,” he scowled and Francis was shocked by the possessiveness he displayed.

He put his bag on the end of the bed. “Banks, by all means stay, if Miss Felicity wishes you to do so. But this is a medical examination. I should only be a few minutes.”

Felicity giggled. “Oh, do go out, Mr. Banks.
Redding
here has never shown an interest before this and we have been alone many a time.”

Grudgingly, Banks slipped out.

Francis quirked a brow at Felicity’s wide smile and pulled the sheet down the bed. Her gown had already risen to her thighs and he pushed the flimsy material away. “How have you been?”

“Only a little uncomfortable, sir. Is that good?”

He drew her knees apart and squinted at her quim. “Very good. You’ll be back to your tricks in no time.” He pulled the night gown over her knees. “Do not let the gentlemen rush you.”

“No chance of that. Mr. Banks has already reserved me for my first engagement and will wait happily until I am well again.” She set her hand behind her head. “What is his reputation,
Redding
? What sort of man is he outside of the club?”

The glow in Felicity’s face as she talked about Mr. Banks was a new one. If he didn’t know her better, he might think she was smitten. “A decent sort, and one of the duke’s closest acquaintances this season. Do not engage his heart in your escapades. He is very young still.”

She winked. “That was not the part I wished to engage. He has so much potential as a lover that I cannot wait to recover my strength.”

Francis shook his head at her brazen words and took his leave. Banks rushed past him to return to Felicity. Young love, or lust. Had he ever felt that way? He couldn’t remember doing so but supposed he likely had at some time in the past.

His chamber was empty of Marinari but a cloth wrapped bundle lay hidden under his hat. Slowly, he unwrapped the gift and found a jar of oil and a small marble dildo in his palm. The thought of that cold marble and the obvious place he should put it made his heart pound with fear, lust, and anxiety. He had never tried one before, but the duke had a large collection and chose them personally for the club so Francis was aware they came in all sizes and thicknesses. This one was for a novice. Could he fit it himself?

Francis shook his head and stuffed both items deep in a drawer and closed it again. The duke did not want him that way and it was high time he set the matter from his mind. With his duties done here, he would return to his other patient and pretend those kisses from the morning had never happened, or that the duke had turned away so resolutely after.

He walked the long distance home again, worry turning his stomach in knots over the chances of retaining his employment. But he had no choice but to return to the duke’s service, even if he had overstepped his position. He had nowhere else to go but home to his brother’s house and backbreaking farm work.

The housekeeper smiled hesitantly as he passed through her domain. Usually the woman was happy to see him. Not so this afternoon, it seemed. It was very likely that the other servants had overheard him shouting at the duke and his son and would rightly be waiting for him to be dismissed from service today.

The short climb to his chamber had never seemed so long. He slipped into his small room, locking the door behind him as he considered his options. But he couldn’t think of any. He was the duke’s man. Had been since age ten. What else was there to do aside from farming on his brother’s land? His back ached at the thought of ending his life in manual labor, the very thing his father had been adamant he escape.

Francis slipped off his clothes—he stank of sweat and fear—and quickly ran a soapy wash cloth over his skin before changing into the fresher, finer attire required to be worn in the duke’s service. He had grown spoiled by his easier lifestyle. He didn’t relish a change.

When he was ready, he headed for the duke’s chamber and, after a deep breath, tapped on the door.

“Get in here, Red,” the duke called immediately.

He set his hand to the door and pushed it open. The duke still lay in his bed, almost as Francis had left him, but Lord Bracknell paced the room. Francis closed the door quietly and warily approached the pair, unsure of his reception.

The duke smiled. “How does the club go on today?”

“Very well.” Francis didn’t say anymore, even if he should report Miss Felicity’s improvement. Such conversations were forbidden within Lord Bracknell’s hearing.
Bracknell
wasn’t allowed inside the club or to know what went on there. He skirted the duke’s son, and checked the duke’s appearance carefully. His eyes drooped as if he were weary, his skin was pale. His hands were curled into the sheets, however, and that indicated he was in some pain.
Bracknell
should have noticed this himself, but as usual, the duke’s son only thought of himself.

Yet after his earlier outburst, Francis held his tongue from asking him to leave so the duke might rest. He did not wish to be dismissed out of hand, at least until the duke was well again.

“Rupert knows about the club, Red. About all of it,” the duke murmured, eyes lifting to stare at him.

Francis pressed his lips together over a curse. At least that explained why Lord Bracknell paced and the duke appeared anxious. But why today, of all days? The duke’s son would prove difficult about it all and likely cause his father additional distress. It was the worst time possible for this conversation to have happened. The duke was too weak to make a good argument.

Francis peeked at
Bracknell
as he passed to fetch wine for the duke’s pain. The man appeared completely rattled by the news his father ran the most decadent and corrupt bawdy house in
London
, even if larger society had no clue about the goings on there.
Bracknell
looked about to tear his hair out.

On his way back to the duke,
Bracknell
caught his arm in a tight grip. “I owe you an apology. I know you worked hard to save my father. I should not have questioned your loyalty to him or the family. Especially not now.”

“None required.” Francis shook off the grip and moved to the duke’s side. A half-hearted apology at best, but still a surprise. He held the glass to the duke’s lips.
Staines
lifted one hand and set his fingertips to the back of Francis’ to steady the glass. After the conversation with Marinari, his heart pounded wildly at the contact.

The duke’s head fell to the pillow, a tired smile twisting his lips. “Thank you for coming back.”

Francis swallowed hard. “My place is here.”

The duke’s smile brightened. “It is. Red,” he swallowed, “can you get me out of these damned clothes soon? I feel ridiculous lying here half dressed.”