Page 74 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

It hurts my heart knowing she had to hide such mundane things as a bit of porcelain or silver. The letters from secret crushes years back make sense, but still, I know my sisters would have kept such things on their dressers. Not quite out in public view, but not hidden away like this.

When my fingers brush a stack of folded papers, I grin as I open them, wondering what moon-eyed words would spill out on the page. Only, it’s not words at all.

Drawings and sketches of all kinds line the pages. Some are good, and some are not, but it was clear she was learning and doing her best. As I go down the pile, they become better until my heart nearly bursts with how good her craftsmanship is.

I never knew she was so keen to pick up a sketching pencil. Now that I know, I have one more gift to procure for her before the wedding this afternoon. Any passion she has, I will do my best to pursue it.

That is until I get to the final pages. My eyes grow so wide I worry they might fall out of my skull. Phalluses. Several depictions of phalluses with some containing only bits and pieces of the anatomy. Balls, a knot or two, all seemingly trying to understand the male form.

For a moment, a tinge of anger fills my soul at knowing she’s seen some man in so intimate a state until I turn the sketches at an angle and peer down. Though I am not a connoisseur of the male anatomy, the length, girth, and detail look very familiar.

And that’s when it strikes me. My intended drew pictures of me. Sitting down on my arse, I can’t help but laugh hard and long as I continue to look at them. No doubt these were from that first night when she worried for the state of my knot, fearing that it was a tumor, one like she’s seen on goats.

Flipping back, I take in her other sketches and laugh all the harder. The goats. Of course. She has so many pictures of them in all states of being—sleeping, eating, frolicking. No wonder she was so keen to make sure I was in good health.

Startled by my outburst, Robert charges in and looks about before seeing me on the floor. “Have you gone mad?”

“No,” I laugh. “I am quite well. My soon-to-be wife has simply amused me beyond any recognition.” Hiding the naughty sketches behind the appropriate ones, I gather a box and put everything inside and close it up. “I am to marry today. It is the best day of all days.”

Robert gives me a rare smile and claps his hand on my shoulder. “You deserve every bit of happiness, my friend. Every bit.”

“Come. Let us away so that I might make sure all is well before time to wed. That, and I must procure one final gift.”

As we both descend to the main room, I take note of Harriet, who thrashes about as William holds her down. Off to the side, Edward stands between them and a furious Baron of Kirden.

“You have no right to treat us like this,” he seethes. “This is not your house, nor your things.”

“No,” I agree, handing the box off to Robert. “But these things do belong to my betrothed, who is my property now. What is hers is now mine. Be grateful we only take this and nothing else. We have the kind ear of the crowned price and queen omega. It is merely by the sake of being Miss Campbell’s father that I do not cast you on the street for the things this waspish creature said to her.”

“Every word was true,” she screeches. “You are befuddled with her heat. You’ll see. Once you are wed, you will regret every moment.”

I stride over to her only to have Robert lay a hand on my arm, holding me back from doing something I shouldn’t. “The way I see it, Kirden. You have two choices. Throw this woman into Bedlam and make your amends, or I tell the palace how my wife has been treated. The choice is yours.”

Turning on my heel, I grab the box, walk back out the door, and motion for the servants to go gather the rest of her things. Edward and William stay behind while Robert manages the entire affair. With those three at the helm, I know my betrothed’s belongings will be safe.

I take several deep cleansing breaths as I make my way to Saint George’s. Still so many things to do and time is running thin. Thankfully, I had already set the maids to task at turning my bedchamber into a room fit for a first heat.

“Just hold on, my precious Cynthia. You will be in my arms soon.”

Chapter 38

Cynthia

I pace the floor as I look at the dress lying on the bed. Pale lavender. Plain. A dress fit for the daughter of a baron. Next to it, the gems shine and gleam in the sun, flashing at each turn. The dress feels much like it belongs to a pauper in comparison, but it’s all I could afford.

My lips tilt in a small smile as I look at my reflection in the mirror. Charles will still love it. I’m sure. At least, that’s what my heart says. My mind, however, cannot slow down.

I tug at the covers as I wait for the maids to bring in the water for my bath. Already I ache from head to toe as warmth seeps from my skin. An odd scratch plagues my arms, and I do my best not to fuss with it. The last thing I need is gashes as I go down the aisle.

Grabbing the bit of metal and the vial of oil, I slip into the privy and work it into me as best as I can without making a sound. If I get it in now, I won’t have to worry about finding time later.

I bite down on my lower lip, holding back the whimpers as that white-hot pleasure slides up my spine and nearly melts my brain. It must be the heat. There’s no other reason this should feel this good. I don’t know what to do. I have no way of quelling it.

As I grip at a bit of wood to brace myself, I continue to push it in with the other hand. Somehow, it goes in a bit easier today. No doubt wearing it yesterday helped my body acclimate. I nearly squeak with surprise when the last hump slides in with very little coaxing.

By the time I come out, my fingers tremble as I pace the room again. Bucket after bucket of hot water comes into the room to dump into the copper basin.

A nice, hot bath. If only I had time to enjoy it. As it is, I fear we’re lingering far too long as it is. Already has the morning passed, and now, we near the afternoon. Only a few more hours before I’m handed off to Charles.