Page 110 of Duke with a Deception
Wonderful. It would seem that all the world, including his own friends and servants, delighted in telling him how awful he looked.
“I expect I look wretched for other reasons as well, but that would be one of them,” he conceded. “I’ll hold the little rogue if you like.”
He reached for the pup, and Ophelia surrendered him with a sigh. “Thank you. He is such a scamp, this Samuel of ours. My hands are quite full, as you can imagine. Will you sit?”
One of the pups—he wasn’t sure if it was Charlotte or Christina—squatted on the Axminster and relieved her bladder, leaving a little puddle in her wake. Then she barked and raced away to hide beneath a Louis Quinze chair.
“Mary, you minx,” Ophelia scolded. “How many times have I told you that you must go to the door?”
He had been wrong. Charlotte and Christina were still biting each other’s ears and rolling about. Henry leapt on them both, before comically lolling to the side on his back.
“I’ll have to ring for a maid. The poor dears are likely growing tired of cleaning up after this lot.” Ophelia sighed. “This is the thanks I get for allowing the children to take in a dog. As it turned out, there was a reason sweet Bitsy was so plump. Five reasons, in fact. Thank heavens nearly all the pups are spoken for.”
Samuel cuddled against King’s chest and began licking his ear. “Is this young lad spoken for?”
“Not yet.” Ophelia’s eyes brightened. “Would you like a new pup? He is already weaned and can go home with you today.”
King swallowed hard. Emma would adore a puppy; he was certain of it. He glanced down at Samuel, who stared back at him with soulful brown eyes. “I’ll take him.”
“Excellent.” Ophelia clapped lightly. “The children won’t be happy, but they have already reconciled themselves to the fact that we cannot possibly have six dogs running about in our household.”
“How are the children?” he asked.
Ophelia had a son and a daughter. Her marriage had been vastly unhappy, but she was an excellent mother, and she was fiercely proud of her progeny.
She smiled. “They are both doing quite well. Thank you for asking.”
“I am pleased to hear it.”
Samuel nibbled at King’s earlobe, dog breath falling hot across his neck. It felt so damned good to hold a pup. He was going to have a devil of a time training the little fellow, he had no doubt. But it would be worth it. And perhaps having a distraction from his misery would be just what he required.
“Would you care to sit?” Ophelia asked. “I presume the purpose of your call is not to relieve me of a sharp-toothed scoundrel, though I am very happy to see you taking Samuel under your wing.”
“That would be lovely.” He stepped over the exuberant pile of pups, which the hiding Mary had just rejoined, and seated himself in a chair opposite Ophelia’s.
Samuel settled nicely in his lap, happily chewing on the lapel of King’s coat. He noted that Ophelia had forgotten to ring for the maid to sop up the puddle Mary had left on the Axminster, but it hardly seemed to matter when Henry did the same nearby.
“Naughty lad,” Ophelia said, arranging her blue silk skirts. “Truly, I despair. This household has been mayhem for weeks. I think I shall sleep for an age when the last of these pups has found their homes.”
He chuckled, watching whilst little Mary toddled over to Ophelia and took up a mouthful of her hems, tugging. “Then you owe me a favor for taking one of these scamps off your hands.”
Ophelia shook out her skirts, admonishing the puppy before turning back to King. “I sense the true reason for your call is coming.”
“It is.” He paused as Samuel crawled up his chest and nibbled on one of the buttons of his waistcoat. “Are you familiar with the Wicked Dukes Society?”
“I cannot say I am.”
The pile of puppies on the floor barked and raced about.
“It is a secret club founded by myself and the dukes of Brandon, Camden, Whitby, Richford, and Riverdale years ago when we were all angry young rakehells. There is a subscription involved. Membership is selective and discreet. On several occasions throughout the year, house parties are held at Wingfield Hall by invitation only, where members are free to do as they like without fear of repercussions.”
She arched a brow. “Dare I guess that the house parties are scandalous in nature?”
He nodded, noting that Samuel had left a sizable mark of drool on his waistcoat before moving on to his sleeve. “They are, hence the secret nature of the society. Over the years, membership has grown and become sought-after. The funds that come from the subscriptions are quite lucrative as well.”
He knew that Ophelia’s husband had left her in uncomfortable financial straits, burdened by debts. The gown she presently wore was outmoded by several years, and there was evidence throughout the town house of her reduced circumstances. The income would likely be a much-needed advantage for her.
“Why do you tell me this?” she asked.
