Free Mastering the Marquess by Lavinia Kent

ceiling.
    “I am waiting.” He could hear an edge of impatience in her voice.
    Good. That was far better than tears.
    What to tell her? He was tempted to lie, but sensed that only the truth would work.
    “My family all think I am a prude,” he began.
    “That is impossible.” The pillows shifted a little more and he could see a few stray dark curls peeking out.
    “No, it is quite true. My sister has told me so to my face—in fact, more than one of them has. The youngest has even said I am a stick-in-the-mud. They don’t believe I have fun.”
    “I still don’t see how …”
    “I am not like the rest of my family. I’ve always been the odd one out, and they delight in telling me so, again and again.”
    “You don’t seem like a prude to me.” Her toes edged out from beneath a huge white pillow.
    “I daresay I don’t, but let us say I have never showed this side of my nature to my family.”
    “I should hope not.” A bit of ankle—and over there he could see a full shoulder.
    He lowered his voice. “You are right, but they only see me as the man who keeps the accounts, tells them they are spending too much, and tries to counsel them to better behavior.”
    “Is your father dead then?”
    Again he considered lying. His family was rather unusual and he didn’t want her to know too much. But he kept to the truth. “No, but he is the worst of the bunch. I took over managing the estates when I was thirteen and it took him two years to notice.”
    “I can’t believe that.” He could see the top of her head now. He’d be able to see her eyes if it weren’t for the damn blindfold. He wished he could see them, could get a hint of her thoughts.
    “It is true. Although the estates are rather large, so perhaps that is the reason.”
    Her full face emerged. The blindfold was pushed up on one side and he could see more of her cheek. He would have reached out to stroke it, but was afraid of frightening her off.
    He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “He is not a bad man, merely a little scattered,with no conception of consequence. He has always felt above public opinion.”
    She edged nearer, one delicious breast appearing from her nest of pillows. “I understand how one would not like to be seen as a prude by one’s family, but that does not sound so embarrassing. And surely others know, and yet you still have your eyes.”
    “No, I have not reached the worst of it.”
    “Oh.”
    “But you must come closer so that I can whisper. I can barely even say the words aloud.”
    Some hesitation, but then she wiggled completely out, revealing herself inch by inch—all creamy skin and gentle curves. There was still some space between them, but only a little.
    She reminded him of a wild animal being tempted nearer with offered food.
    “My father got me a whore for my birthday. He wanted to free me of my virginity.” There, he’d said it.
    “Is that all? That does not sound so bad.”
    “Not so bad?” He had to work to keep his voice in check.
    “I do not know much, but I believe my little brother has mentioned such things. I actually think he hoped my father would do such a thing for him when he reached sixteen.”
    “I was thirty.”
    “Oh.”
    “He found it shameful that I was thirty and had never known a woman.”
    A giggle. Only a slight one, but a definite giggle.
    “And apparently my brothers agreed. They had all discussed the matter. They thought if I had a good fuck I might loosen up. I actually walked into my father’s study to talk and found a naked doxy sitting on his desk. She asked if I had problems getting it up.”
    Now that was a real giggle. “How could they ever think that of you?”
    “I do not know. I will admit that I never lingered with the maids or the village girls. And even the local tavern wenches are not to my taste. I have always valued discretion and privacy.”
    “Still …” She snorted.
    “I do not know how they came to that conclusion. I have always frequented