Page 62 of Deviant Duchess
“We are here,” Cedric announced, his tone holding an edge.
Deborah looked up at him then, and nearly gasped. He had his mask on already, and it brought back the memories of the night she had thought she had failed her sister for good.
“Remember,” Cedric said, his tone a little softer as he pulled off her hat and began putting her matching mask on her face, “You know who is under this mask now. You have nothing to fear from me.”
Cedric’s words helped soothe the anxiety and distrust she felt from that night, and she bowed her head so he could finish tying the mask to her face. She wanted to believe that he was right. A large part of her already did. Still, like Ellen had said, it was difficult to trust safety and happiness after something awful had happened.
“You can lift your head up now,” Cedric told her, and as she did, he put her top hat back on her head, taking care to make sure it disguised her hair completely.
“Remember my rule?” He asked, his hands soothing down the lapels of her jacket and adjusting her cravat.
“I do not leave your side,” she said softly.
Cedric’s hand was quick as it moved from her cravat to grip her masked chin and force her eyes to his.
“You. Do.Not.Leave my side,” he repeated in a commanding tone as his dark eyes bored intensely into hers. “And you do not speak to anyone. Your voice will give you away, and I assure you neither of us will enjoy the consequences of being caught.”
A shiver passed through Deborah’s body; feeling the gravity of the situation she was putting them both in, but she nodded silently.
Cedric continued to stare at her with narrowed eyes for another long moment, and for a second, she feared he was going to change his mind. Then he let out an animalistic snarl as he let go of her chin and shoved the carriage door open.
“Come,” he commanded, “Let us get this over with.”
Sweat trickled down Deborah’s neck as she and Cedric made their way through the thick throng of masked men. The air in the auction house was thick, hot, and tinged with scents of sweat, alcohol, and musk. Her chest ached, begging to take a full breath of fresh, cool air. She had thought that corsets had felt binding; that the wrap around her breasts would be no different. She had been wrong.Very wrong,and now her back and breasts were starting to ache from how confining the wrap was. Trying to ease it, she drew in a shallow breath and was only assaulted by the scent of desperation.
The scent of aroused men was something Deborah had thought she’d grown accustomed to while working in disguise at the auction, but now she felt as if she could barely breathe in her mask. She’d become spoiled by the distance her marriage to Cedric had allowed her. Not only that, but spoiled by the heady, delicious scent he and he alone gave off.
“Watch yourself!” A man scolded as Deborah brushed against something with her shoulder.
She froze at once as he caught her by the assaulting shoulder and whirled her around, forcing Cedric’s grip away from her wrist. Pressing her lips tightly together so she would not speak, she looked up at the man who had hold of her. His white mask hid his features, but she did not need to see them to know that he was both inebriated and angry.
“Well?” The man snarled, giving her a rough shake, “Are you going to be a man and apologize for spilling my drink? Buy me another?”
Panic gathered in Deborah’s chest as the man glared down at her. She could not speak; it was too dangerous, and she could not move to find Cedric because of the man’s tight grip on her arm.
“Say something!” The man boomed, drawing the attention of a few others.
Deborah’s knees began to tremble as her breath came in shorter bursts.
This is it. I have failed again. For the last time. They are going to catch me. They are going to catch me, and then they are going to-
“Apologies for my friend.” Cedric’s deep voice sounded through the malaise.
Deborah’s breath punched out of her with nearly a groan as she heard his voice and felt his hand wrap once more around her wrist; both grounded her at once.
“He is a mute,” Cedric explained, stepping in between her and the man. “Can’t do much but moan and groan, I am afraid. Hence, we are here. Needs a woman he does not have to communicate with, you know what I mean?”
The man appeared startled for a moment as he looked from Cedric’s red mask to Deborah’s; then, with a huff, he released her arm.
“Make him wear a sign from now on or something,” the man remarked, “Many would take his silence for lack of respect.”
“Excellent idea,” Cedric replied, then flipped the man a coin. “For your spilled drink and my friend’s clumsiness.”
The man caught the coin in his meaty fist, nodded, and turned away. Cedric pulled her away, keeping his hand tight around her waist as they pressed through the sea of bodies. When they made it to the bar area next to the stage, where it was a little less crowded, Deborah opened her mouth. Before she could get a word out, though, Cedric whirled on her; his red devil mask startling her. She had forgotten for a moment that he was wearing it.
“Do.Not.Speak,” he warned, his deep voice low and feral as it came through the mask.
She closed her mouth and nodded, thankful for the reminder, and in turn, Cedric let out an annoyed sigh as he looked toward the bar.
