Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

BENEDICT

I study Augusta as she sits side saddle, her lips screwed up in concentration. Is it discomfort? Honesty, I cannot tell, and it drives me to distraction. What happened last night cannot and will not happen again. I came far too close to ripping every shred of honor from her luscious body.

Even now, as I close my eyes, I can see her writhing before me, her mind so far gone from the pain I inflicted on her. Have I ever rendered a woman such? Normally, I stop before my ministrations are damaging, and to my knowledge, not one of my ladybirds has ever slipped into a such a state where time and place has no meaning.

Peering at the young omega as she tosses her head, flashing glances at all the men we pass by, I can't help but wonder if she remembers any of it. When I took her home last night, she promptly fell asleep. The chit didn't so much as stir when I removed her dress, leaving her to sleep in her shift.

And when she looks at me… There's not even a hint of recognition. True, she shifts about on her horse and grimaces ever so slightly. But her gaze does not hold me in contempt. Granted, she did rather earn the punishment part of last night.

Maybe she's so filled with remorse that she doesn't remember me fucking her arse with the ginger as I forced her to come for me. That has to be it. Any other innocent like her would be all blushes and bumbling speeches. Not her. Not Augusta.

In some ways, I admire her plucky spirit. In others, I feel bad for the poor chap who ends up with her. She has an insatiable curiosity and an unquenchable thirst for life. It will certainly keep him on his toes.

How I wish to write to Lord Hardon and explain the situation, telling him why I must step back from watching his sister. But to do so would reveal what has passed between us. Best to get these next few balls done with so the men can come preening over her.

I lied when I told her the men have other omegas to consider. Though she may not be considered a diamond, her beauty outshines even the omega the queen granted her favor toward. Though Augusta may not have all the grace and refinement many of the Alphas are looking for, she makes up for it with her quick wit and bright spirit.

A man would have to be deaf, blind, and mute not to notice her. My balls tighten as I watch her navigate the mare while holding a conversation with her aunt in the landau beside us. Such perfection. Such beauty. Such innocence.

Seeing her break for me, her mind scattered as I tormented her, is a memory I will hold dear in my heart forever. But knowing her fragile mind cannot take my level of affection, even as a form of punishment… It was the last piece to the puzzle needed to firm my resolve.

I cannot take a wife who cannot even remain conscious in the midst of my punishments. For a bit there, I thought maybe I could take her. Maybe I could fashion her into both the duchess and the whore. But it's not to be. Better I found that out last night than in our wedding chambers.

Leading the two back to the entrance, I escort them home, my mind buzzing with the ramifications of tonight's ball. Now that the men of the Ton have seen Augusta again, they will no doubt be clamoring for her hand in a dance. It's up to me to make sure only those suitable to her delicate predisposition toward sex be the ones to actually make an overture.

Even now, I watch as Lord Harhall dips his hat as she rides by, his lips twitching with a devious smile. I'll have to keep my wits about me now that he's caught her scent. For him to catch her eye would be most unsuitable indeed.

"It's an absolute crush," some omega cries to her friends, her voice lifting in the air as we enter the ballroom.

Behind us, more names are announced, drawing glances at each turn. Thankfully, their eyes are off of Augusta and onto the next debutant. My cock pulses as I stare at the dusky pink dress, almost the exact shade as the petals guarding her quim. Did the chit somehow plan that?

Based on her bored expression as the other girls simper and laugh around her, I think not. If she had, I'm sure she'd be preening and thrusting out her large breasts, showing it off to anyone who would see. Instead, she seems almost like a wallflower.

"Is this ball not to your liking?"

She blinks up at me before looking out over the crowd. "I suppose I didn't realize just how far from society my family kept me. I fear I know no one at all."

"That's not true," I scoff, pointing out Norhaven and Redleigh.

"Yes, but they are your friends. Not mine."

"Do you not consider Miss Cynthia Campbell to be a friend?"

She follows my gaze, a soft smile teasing her lips. "I feel as though we can become friends. But our time has always been too short."

The woman in question walks over with her mother and gives a soft bow. "Miss Hunt, don't you look exceptional tonight?"

I lean in, anxious to hear her response. This will confirm or deny the irrational thoughts running through my head in an ever-widening loop.

"Thank you," she says, far more demure than I expect. "Aunt Amelia gave her specifications. I merely stood there for measurements." But then, her lips widen into a wide, possibly genuine smile. "It's certainly not as beautiful as your stunning gown."

Miss Campbell blushes and turns toward the crowd. "Quite a crush."

"Indeed."

I roll my neck on my shoulders as the two cackle on, exchanging pleasantries. This is the part of the balls that I cannot stand. Normally, I'd be with the other men, but with the way the others circle, I cannot part from Augusta's side for even a moment.

One by one, the men approach, filling in her dance card. Most of them seem to cower before my stern gaze, the pencil trembling in their grasps as they dare steal a number. Augusta simply smiles at them in her coquettish way, encouraging them all to take one or two.

At least the girl won't be bored. Heaven forbid she actually becomes bored.

Harhall makes his way toward us, his cocky grin affixed to his face. Pulling Augusta closer to me, I whisper into her ear. "When he asks for a dance, you will politely tell him your card is full."

Her eyes widen as she blinks up at me, her face a study in innocence. "But, Your Grace, it is not. I still have a few dances needing a partner."

"No, you don't. Your card is full enough as it is."

"But see here there are several-"

"He is unsuitable."

"Why?" Her tone sharpens as she stares me down. "This is an elite gathering. Surely-"

"I know things you do not and shall not. Will you do as I command?"

"If it is as you say…"

"It is."

Her lips purse together as she runs her closed fan along her palm. Hopefully she'll do as I demand.

"Portswell, so very good to see you again." The baron makes his way into our circle, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"And you, Lord Harhall. How are the shipping tariffs finding you?"

His smug face falls for a fraction of a second, far too swiftly to notice unless looking. "The votes have not been completely in my favor, but I have a feeling things will turn around." He lowers his voice as if imparting some grand secret. "They always do. But enough about business around these lovely ladies."

"Lord Harhall, I present to you, Miss Hunt, sister to Lord Hunt, Viscount of Hardon."

He drops into a bow over her offered hand, keeping his lips just out of reach… only just. My spine bristles as he makes an obvious overture, gazing into her eyes as he comes back up.

"If I may be so honored as to have a dance with so beautiful a lady."

His praise sends a flush up her face. Surely the chit can't be buying into his effusive words. No doubt he's said as such or more flowery to the last prospect.

"Forgive me, Lord Harhall," she begins, allowing the band to loosen just a touch. Seems she can do as she's told without the threat of violence. "It seems as if all I have is a quadrille. But if you would be so willing."

Before I can say a word, he picks up the card and scribbles his name, winking to me before standing upright. "I shall be delighted to claim my dance."

"Are you hard of hearing? Or just hard of listening?" I hiss, grabbing her elbow.

"Seems as if I'm in want of a more thorough explanation than just no. No matter. I will find out all while dancing with him. 'Twould be unseemly to break his heart."

"Most unseemly," I grumble as she yanks away and steps toward the girls.

They exchange giggles and peeks at the other's dance cards, not understanding the enormity of these interactions. It matters not. I shall ensure that he only dances with her as promised then they are separate for the remainder of the evening.

Grabbing a glass, I tip back the contents, allowing the burn to soothe my nerves. Not only do I have her aunt in attendance, but Norhaven and Redleigh as well will help me keep an eye on her. Thankfully, those they traveled with are not here with us, allowing them to navigate the room, watching out for anything suspicious.

My heart continues to pound as I pace the floor, watching her talk with one gentleman and the next. Off to the side, Lord Harhall watches her, his eyes trained on her every movement. Unfortunately, until he steps out of line, nothing can be said or done.

Besides, if we three were looking to get married, we would no doubt do the same. I just wish he'd put his attention onto some other girl and not the one I'm supposed to be watching after. These men don't know him like I do. They don't know how his tastes run similarly to mine.

On the surface, he's an upstanding pillar of his name. Back in the recesses of The Rose and Thorne, he's a completely different animal. Though I am not one to judge, I do know my desires at least run in parallel with the girl's wants and needs. His wants and needs are only about himself.

For Augusta to end up with someone like him is just unconscionable. Damn my honor. Damn my pride. Damn the fact that I find myself caring for this girl.

"Your Grace," Miss Campbell murmurs, her face trained to the floor. "You seem ill at ease. Is everything well with Miss Hunt?"

"It is kind of you to inquire, but she should be all right. It's merely my responsibility to do well by her in the absence of her brother that has me on guard."

"I see. Is there anything I should worry about for me? Or my friends even?"

I give her a gentle smile, not wishing to scare her away. "As long as you keep your wits about you, all will be well."

She gives a light giggle before looking out over onto the dance floor, her demeanor sobering as she watches Norhaven take to dance. "But then," she murmurs. "Is that not true of every soiree?"

"Indeed it is." A heavy sigh drifts from my lips as I lock eyes onto where Augusta is once more. "Indeed it is."

If only my stomach would stop churning. If only I could tell myself, it's just one more ball. If only…

But I can't. From the instant we stepped foot into this place, something deep inside has demanded we leave. But for the sake of honor, I have forced myself to stay.