The Virgin at Goodrich Hall by Danielle Lisle Read Free Book Online

his cock. All anyone had to do was ask it of him, and all he would say was simply, “Very well, my Lord,” with a nod, before he went about the request.
    Victor still got hard thinking about the time Smith had fucked Anna and Dicky had taken Smith from behind. The butler held so much restraint while he fucked. No emotion at all crossed his face. What was even more endearing—and frankly, awe-inspiring—was that the man could hold his fulfilment for a bloody long time. In fact, he never gained satisfaction until he was told to.
    That morning, Smith had stood at the chamber door, as Victor had demanded to know Maggie’s true identity. Smith, being the ever-present and loyal servant, had sought her identity in the event she should not maintain their secret. He had informed Victor her hired hack had departed Goodrich Hall well before sunrise, and delivered her to Carrieton House in London.
    Victor had stormed home, sending his man of business out to discover more about the house. Upon the man’s return, Victor learned that Lord Carrieton had only one child, a Lady Margaret—an apparently charming girl with many suitors seeking her hand. Victor’s lip curled in distaste at the idea of another claiming what was his.
    Whatever the girl had done to bewitch him, he knew she had not done it on purpose. She had come for a night of passion before she was to be sold to the man of her father’s choosing.
    It seemed her father was undecided at the current moment, allowing two to court openly—a lord and a gentleman. Both with good connections and prospects, but both were well over twice Margaret’s age.
    What father would not prefer his daughter to become a duchess?
    If any had told Victor he would decide to wed the night before, he would have called them a fool. He could not name when he had decided but, whilst he had demanded her identity from Anna, his decision had only firmed. He would have her as his wife, and it had nothing to do with his need to gain an heir.
    He could not name another time when a woman had enticed him as she did. Her hands, even unskilled as they were, had brought him more fire than he would have thought possible. He needed her, and would have her.
    Bringing the Scotch to his lips, he took a sip, scanning the room, searching for the woman who had worked her way into his very soul.
     
    * * * *
     
    Claire linked her arm with Margaret’s as they moved up the stairs into the large foyer to await the evening’s performance. Lord Belfort walked with them, and her parents were ahead.
    “I am so glad you are here,” Margaret muttered to Claire as they reached the foyer.
    Lord Belfort handed each of them a glass of champagne from a passing waiter before he ordered a Scotch for himself.
    “So am I, though for many reasons,” Claire said and took a sip from her flute. “Do you know this will be my first opera?”
    Her husband growled something under his breath about Claire’s father, causing Claire to reach out and pat his arm in a soothing manner.
    “I had forgotten that,” Margaret said with a sigh. “I shall look forward to experiencing it with you.”
    Claire raised an eyebrow before they both let out long breaths that turned into laughter. How grand it was to be around a true friend.
    “Will you ladies excuse me?” Lord Belfort asked before he moved away.
    “Of course,” Claire said while removing a handkerchief from her purse to wipe away her tears of delight.
    “I must say, Claire, I envy you. The love of a good man is something I crave over all else.”
    Claire sighed and whispered, “You left while he slept. How do you know love was not on his mind?”
    “It was not. Love is not on a man’s mind when he goes to a place like that. Pleasure is, just as it was my only intention as well.”
    Despair filled her, as did the knowledge that love was possible. She felt it, knew it. Disappointment cut deep. The truth of the matter was, her love would never be returned.
     
    * * * *
     
    It was