31. Chapter (Time Of Great Contempt)

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Travis spent a restless night. Every time he closed his eyes, he became tormented by thoughts of Bella entwined with her lover in various intimate poses, plunging him into a state of absolute madness. As the majordomo went about his duties after delivering his master the answer from his unruly and sinful governess, Travis sought out the lady himself. Standing before her door, he attempted to open it without announcing himself, swiftly discovering that it was securely locked. He jiggled the handle and pounded on the door with rising indignation.

 "Miss Ward, I know you're within — open the door! I wish to converse with you as a gentleman with a lady!" 

At first, the only response was the sound of hurried footsteps before Bella retorted, "There's no conversation to be had, Marquess St. Arcey! Depart!"

"Open this door at once, or I shall employ a skeleton key!" Travis thundered.

"How can you act so reprehensible, you despicable scoundrel?!" Bella exclaimed in disbelief.

"How can you act as if you were a woman of easy virtues? Being a Duke's daughter, no less!"

For a moment, an eerie hush settled, but soon the key jingled in the lock, and the door swung open wide. There stood Bella, her fury palpable in every inch of her presence.

"How dare you shout such indecencies throughout the entire house?!" she inquired with a cutting tone, to which he responded with a disdainful snort.

"It's my residence, and I can express myself in any manner I find fitting. After all, it's not I who engaged in dalliances with my lover by the lake – no need to unnecessarily deny it," he declared with a wry smile. "Tell me, what compelled you to flee from me? Was it perhaps a shame? Or perchance regret? Fears of my reaction?"

Bella first blushed, then regarded him with a disdainful expression.

"You hold too high an opinion of yourself, Marquess. Are you some providential gift?! Why did you pursue me, St. Arcey? What did you anticipate, for heaven's sake?!" 

Travis sarcastically retorted, shrugging nonchalantly. "Verily, I cannot fathom my own actions – I was likely taken aback by the revelation that a woman of your stature had found herself a paramour!"

She scoffed amusedly. "I am a beautiful young woman, Marquess. Perhaps I don't wish to marry and bear children, but certainly, I did not wish to wither away as an old maid. In London or Newcastle, I garnered the attention of men everywhere. One, three, fifty... Perhaps you simply did not consider that intimately engaging with others is not exclusively a privilege for men."

On one hand, she relished in his piercing gaze, in which all the darkness of the world seemed contained; on the other hand, she observed him starting to tremble from suppressed... anger? That frightened her, but she wouldn't let it allow it to manifest.

"You're imagining things—"

With a dismissive shake of her head, she interjected, "I'm not weaving fantasies; you witnessed it with your own eyes. And, as I observe you now, it seems to have rattled you considerably. Aye, aye, St. Arcey... picture Captain Hayes' lips upon mine," she provocatively traced the contour of her lips, "his hands enveloping my bosom," she placed her hands on her chest, "his pulsating cock within my intimate embrace," she gestured towards her lap. "By the devil, at this very moment, his semen might still be coursing down my thighs, and you remain blissfully unaware."

His countenance suddenly softened, yet a feral intensity lingered in his eyes. Stepping towards her, he pushed her into her chamber, promptly closing the door.

"What-what is the meaning of this?!" she asked in disbelief, to which he offered a broad smile.

"I surmised that given your experience, you might not object if I were to join in, whether it be one, three, or fifty. Your history is of no consequence to me, madam!"

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