Theirs to Train: A Victorian Menage Romance by Samantha Madisen

Author:Samantha Madisen [Madisen, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2020-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

“She is quite surely a virgin,” Doyle said, before even sitting down. He poured himself a drink and looked pointedly at his longtime friend. “Have you considered that the girl’s story is true? For even if she exceeded the bounds of decency with this gentleman—”

“The wheels are in motion,” Blackstone said in his typically curt fashion. By this, he meant that Laroui was already en route to England, but Doyle knew him very well; he was thundering like this for he had some doubts himself.

“Pity,” Doyle commented, after taking a sip of whiskey and arching an eyebrow at Blackstone. “She is everything we might have wanted. While she is spirited, she is aroused by submission and discipline. It shall be a mere trick to make her yearn for it, and yearn to please us.”

“Laroui,” Blackstone said sharply, at the same time that Doyle said “us.”

“She’s very beautiful,” Doyle insisted.

Blackstone said nothing.

Doyle took a sip of his whiskey. “I believe her,” he continued, setting the glass down. He looked up at Blackstone. “About the young gentleman. She has never changed her story with regard to her behavior.”

Blackstone frowned more deeply and said nothing. He was sitting beneath a reading lamp and the scarred side of his face was visible to Doyle, from whom he did not hide it. Doyle, after all, had been the one to rescue him, and attempt to repair the damage from the accident.

The scarring was not terrible. It marred somewhat the striking, intense beauty of the man, but he was far from hideous, and in some ways, it gave his ethereal beauty a more masculine edginess than he had previously possessed.

But Blackstone did not hide from the light and the sight of society in order to keep his scar hidden; that was merely the story they had concocted. Blackstone hid in the shadows to hide the unmistakable beauty, and recognizability, of his countenance.

Now, he pressed his fingertips together and closed his eyes.

“An opportunity,” Doyle pressed, delicately, “like this one is most unlikely to occur again. Should you not consider—?”

“Doyle,” Blackstone said quietly, but in a tone of voice that was laced with the dangerous side of his personality. “I have naturally ‘considered’ everything you speak of.”

Doyle waited. Blackstone was a stubborn man. It would do no good to press him further, not at this moment. He was also certain that if the lovely Miss Blanchet had not yet worked her charms on Blackstone, it would not be long before she would, and then, surely, he would see the error of his judgment.

Laroui would be a problem, but Laroui was a mercenary man who surely could be placated with money.

Which Blackstone had a great deal of, provided that Laroui kept his secret.

Doyle guarded his silence, and Blackstone brooded for so long that Doyle was almost unsure what he referenced when he said, at last, “Perhaps.”

The comment hung in the air, and then Blackstone inhaled deeply and rose to his feet. “Shall we go to dinner, then, my good friend? We shall see how obedient the young Miss Blanchet has been.

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