Epilogue

Samuel

The Society of Sin.

A fascinating but fitting name for the company he now found himself in. He'd gained entrance by way of introduction to its leader, the Marquess of Hartford—more commonly known to the ton as "Rex." He was certainly the king of this society, where he reigned supreme with his marchioness, the woman who had tamed the lion, by his side.

Though Rex might be less wild after marriage than his former reputation indicated, the whole of the Society of Sin certainly was not.

Lady Greywood's home was the current locale for the evening, and it was filled to the brim with debauchery and depravity. Everywhere Samuel looked, there were people enjoying themselves and each other in a multitude of ways.

He was no prude, but he'd never seen anything like this before.

Whips, ropes, floggers, paddles, multiple groups of people, as well as couples, all fornicating with abandon—although some of them were merely caressing or even cuddling. It boggled the mind. Certainly not the usual tonnish event, though he recognized many lords and ladies. To his surprise, the wealthy but unlanded were also well represented. He was far from being the only businessman present.

Several of his contemporaries gave him a knowing nod if they recognized him, which he returned. They likely assumed he was here for the same thing they were—pleasure.

But Samuel was here for one reason and one reason only—or rather, one person.

Lady Catherine Cross.

He hated thinking of her title and married name because it was a constant reminder that he had not been enough. She had bowed to her parents and married Lord Cross. Samuel could not even hate the man because he seemed to have taken good care of Catherine, then obligingly left her a widow before Samuel had married another.

Truthfully, Samuel had nearly decided not to marry at all.

He'd been away on business when Lord Cross died. It had taken time for the news to reach him. Time for him to wrap up his affairs, then even more time to travel across the ocean back to London. Then he'd needed to settle in and prepare himself to see her again.

Opportunity had beckoned when they were both invited to the Marquess of Camden's wedding. He'd called in a favor after all the information he'd provided Camden with over the years during his travels and managed to secure a seat beside her.

Seeing him had unsettled her. He'd realized it immediately. Even enjoyed it a little. As much as he wanted to be understanding about the choice she'd made—the decision not to defy her parents and Society and risk becoming a total outcast by running away with him—he still held some bitterness in his heart.

Though, as he walked around watching the various activities the Society of Sin engaged in, he was getting some ideas about how to overcome that…

Especially because seeing her again had confirmed that his feelings had not gone away. They were both older, different, yet the moment he'd set eyes on her, he'd felt like he'd stepped backward in time. She'd changed, grown, and was as beautiful as ever. Maybe even more so. He'd felt like a fumbling young man again before he'd recovered.

He wanted to see if they could make things work now that they were older and wiser.

Pausing to watch one of the gentlemen spanking his lady, her moans and sobs filling the air as their audience grew, he felt his cock stir. Yes, he could think of several ways Catherine could make things up to him. And since she was already a member here, his suggestions could hardly shock her.

"Very nice," murmured the gentleman next to him. He was not talking to Samuel, though, but to the gentleman on his other side.

"She's taking it well." The other gentleman glanced at the clock on the far side of the room. "Lady Cross should be starting soon."

Samuel just barely managed to keep from jerking in reaction to Catherine's name. Of course, he'd known she was supposed to be here this evening, but it still startled him. The fact that the other two gentlemen were apparently awaiting her arrival made him bristle.

He'd realized, of course, that she'd likely had lovers after her husband's death. If he'd doubted it, the point would have been driven home the moment he'd walked into tonight's event. But he did not care how many lovers she'd had in the past. He was no hypocrite.

However, he did strenuously object to her taking another lover now unless it was him.

He did his best to appear relaxed as the two gentlemen beside him continued to observe the scene in front of him. When they left, he would follow. Presumably, they would lead him to Catherine.

And then what?

Would he be willing to watch her with another gentleman?

See another man turn her over his knee… and more?

Samuel took a long, deep breath, letting it flow out of him as he forced his muscles to relax. She was not his yet. He had no claim on her. However, he would do whatever he had to in order to court her again, and that included watching her with another man tonight if that's what it took. Though, he vowed to himself, it would be the only time such a thing would occur.

He was determined to win Catherine over, to stake his claim in a way that he had been unable to before. Now that they were older, she had her title and did not need her parents' permission to marry him.

She might not want to, anyway.

Marrying him would mean losing her title, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Marriage was not a necessity, just a preference. The important thing was having her in his life, in his bed, where she'd always been meant to be.

He was so lost in thought, he almost did not notice when the gentlemen began to move. Thankfully, he was not that far gone in his head. Waiting a moment to make it less obvious he was following them, Samuel casually turned and trailed behind them.

They seemed to know exactly where they were going, and they led him to the library, where a space had been cleared.

In the middle of it was Catherine and another gentleman… wait… was that?

The Duke of Kent. One of the dukes unaffected by the recent tragedy. And he was stripped down to his underthings while Catherine remained fully dressed, standing beside him with a tawse in her hand.

What is happening?

Samuel blinked in confusion, hanging back behind the gentlemen he'd followed in, so Catherine did not see him immediately. Which had not been his original plan. He'd wanted her to see him, to know he was there, to be aware of his presence… but now, he wanted to know what was going on. This was not what he'd expected to see. A small, niggling suspicion stirred in his chest—one he was not yet ready to acknowledge.

She was entirely focused on Kent, as if the audience was not present.

"Your Grace, would you like to tell everyone what you're doing here this evening?" Her voice lilted up at the end, as though it was a question, but her tone made it more of a command.

The man sighed heavily and lifted his head. Grief and guilt etched the man's face, making it clear why his bearing was so heavy.

"I was supposed to be on that trip. I should not be here right now." No one needed to ask what trip he meant. "I was supposed to be… there."

Dead. He meant that he was supposed to be dead.

Catherine shook her head.

"You are exactly where you are supposed to be," she said gently but firmly.

"But if I'd been there, maybe I could have prevented…" He wrung his hands in front of him.

"Or you would be dead, too. We have no way of knowing what happened." Still gentle but even firmer in her tone. Rumors were running rife through the ton, but nothing had been confirmed. The Crown had announced it was investigating, of course, but so far, there had been no official announcements or conclusions, which meant the theories became wilder with every passing day.

"I just need to feel something." The fervor with which he said the words struck something in Samuel's soul. He could practically feel the emotions emanating from the grieving man, the desire to scream and cry and the utter inability to do so.

It was how Samuel had felt when Catherine chose to bow to her parents' wishes.

"Now that, I can certainly help with," Catherine said, reaching out to rub the man's shoulder. A small dart of jealousy struck Samuel, but considering the man's emotional state he could hardly begrudge him the offered comfort. "Hands on the desk."

Kent moved forward, bending at the waist to place his hands on the desk that was just off to the side of where he and Catherine were standing. The suspicion in Samuel's chest was growing and blooming as he watched, making him feel increasingly uneasy.

He knew where this was going.

He just could not believe it.

But he could not deny what he was seeing when Catherine got into place behind Kent and lifted the tawse, swinging it to land across Kent's buttocks.

The sound of leather against Kent cracked through the room, making Samuel's body jerk at the impact, as if he was the one receiving it.

Kent groaned, the sound caught somewhere between pained and relieved. As if it hurt him, but he was also getting exactly what he needed. Catherine paused for a moment, reaching out to run her hand over his lower back. Her expression was one of both concern and confidence, and something about the entire scene caused something new to stir inside Samuel. Something he had never felt before, and he was not sure what to call it.

Then she stepped back, and the tawse came down again.

And again.

And again.

Kent groaned each time, panting between the blows, hanging his head until he finally cried out and began to actually cry. A murmur went through the audience, full of sympathy and concern. Catherine paused again, stepping forward and putting her hand on Kent's lower back, bending down to his face.

They exchanged some words, far too low for Samuel to hear. Some of those closest to them might have been able to discern what was being said, but if they did, none of their expressions changed. After a moment, Catherine nodded and stepped back. Lifted the tawse again.

One of the gentlemen in front of Samuel sighed, leaning toward his compatriot. Despite their low tones, he was close enough to overhear their conversation again.

"She is so good." The man sighed again, a heartfelt expression of longing and regret. "I was hoping to engage her this evening."

"Kent needs it more."

"I know. Perhaps next time."

Their words confirmed the suspicion that had bloomed in Samuel, making his heart sink. This was not a one-time thing for Catherine. She was not looking for a man to put her over his knee for discipline. Or for punishment. She was the one who meted it out.

Bloody hell.

Through the light fabric of Kent's underthings, Samuel could see how his skin glowed red from the tawse. He felt as though he'd been struck in the chest.

He wanted Catherine.

He did.

But at what price?

How far was he willing to go?

Could he do this?

******