The Duke's Shameful Demands (Victorian Correction Book 12) by Emily Tilton

Author:Emily Tilton [Tilton, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2019-04-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Clara could not keep herself from feeling the greatest curiosity about the doctor, who she thought must be the sandy-haired man who stooped to examine very closely the cunnies and bottoms of the girls pointed out by the other gentlemen. As she watched, the man who must be the earl, to judge from the bearing of the valet who attended him, and seemed to hold himself aloof from the other manservants, dipped his forefinger between Louisa’s bottom-cheeks. The girl let out a little cry, and the earl laughed and spoke to Doctor Brown, who seemed to pay very careful attention to the nobleman’s every movement.

Clara could not hear precisely what the earl said, but she felt her cheeks burn at the words she could discern. “...tighter than the cunt, I imagine.” Idly the peer of the realm fondled the girl’s punished cheeks.

“Indeed, my lord,” the doctor said, bending to examine Louisa’s backside. “I believe someone has had coitus with this young lady recently. From what I observe, he must have enjoyed himself greatly.”

“The same man who caned her, do you think, Doctor?” asked the earl.

The doctor bent a little closer to Louisa’s bottom. “Though I cannot of course tell whether it was the same man, or indeed whether the identical man penetrated both the girl’s vagina and her anus, I strongly suspect that one man whipped her and another possessed her in coitus.”

Clara frowned, the blood rushing even more hotly to her face as she wondered how Doctor Brown could possibly know that a different man had punished Louisa to the one who had fucked her. Mr. Grenville, who it seemed had also overheard the little dialogue taking place two or three yards from where he, like Clara, stood with the duke and his consort, spoke to the doctor in a voice that struck Clara as rather scornful and almost discourteous.

“How do you reason that out, Doctor Brown?” the tall man demanded. Looking over at him from the safety of Mr. Freshet’s arms, Clara felt a shiver of fear run through her. Mr. Grenville seemed not merely a masterful sort of man, but a cruel one.

The red-haired doctor turned toward the stage, straightening up to regard the man on the stage with icy blue eyes.

“Mr. Grenville, I presume?” the doctor asked.

The blond man frowned, and his head jerked backward in evident surprise. “How do you presume that?”

The physician’s lips turned upward in a quiet smile. “If you mean, sir, to inquire as to my right to address you, I suppose I must assert the privilege of a British gentleman to address any man upon earth. If you mean to request my reasoning upon the matter of your name, I can apprise you of it in a very few words, by informing you that I can see his grace the duke stands beside you, and I find in the manner, as well as in the youth, of the gentleman to his grace’s left, the clear indications that he is the new vicar of Lesterfield, about whom I had letter last week from a friend at Cambridge.

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