My Naughty Minette (Properly Spanked Book 3) Read online

“Brood, or breed?” asked Townsend, setting everyone off into more laughter. Warren shook his head, and then the two babies began to fuss.

  Warren stood to walk about with George, while Aurelia cosseted Felicity, rocking her back and forth to soothe her. Minette was hardly much older when she’d lost her parents. In fact, she knew very little about being a parent, except that one must protect and love the little ones. She noted the way Warren whispered to George to calm him, and the way Aurelia tickled Felicity to make her smile again. She was glad her friends weren’t the sort to banish their children to the nursery, or leave them to grow up primarily in a servant’s care.

  “Georgie always wants to walk about and play,” sighed Warren, “only he’s not capable yet, poor fellow.” He set him on Josephine’s lap, where the baby proceeded to kick his stubby little legs. “Say, Barrymore, play something, would you? Something to amuse the children.”

  “Oh, yes, do,” pleaded the ladies.

  “Of course I will, if Minette will help me. She’s been taking lessons, you know.”

  “From who?” asked Townsend.

  “From me, of course,” August said. “And she’s come a long way from last year, I’ll tell you.”

  “Does that mean you won’t be treating us to Poggle and Woggle?” joked Warren in a drawling voice.

  “The children might like Poggle and Woggle,” Minette pointed out.

  “No, I’ve finished something else. A new piece.” Her husband sorted through the music he’d been working on earlier, and propped open the pages. “It’s called Minette.”

  “Minuet?” She could feel herself blushing again.

  “No.” A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “Minette. I wrote it for you, dear. I was going to call it Wilhelmina, only...”

  Their friends erupted in more laughter as Felicity shrieked and waved her hands. “I believe the young lady wants us to commence with the music,” said Minette. “In fact, she sounds insistent.”

  “You take the right hand. I’ll do the left.”

  They seated themselves just as they had precisely one year earlier. She couldn’t help thinking how much had changed since then, and how far she had come from Flowers of August, and Lady Priscilla’s insults, and heartbroken tears in Josephine’s arms. August didn’t think her a child any longer, and he didn’t dismiss her as a nuisance. He had even written her a song...

  As they began to play the notes together, tears misted her eyes. The song was pretty, even merry, but with an underlying tone of wistfulness that saved it from sounding like some reckless jig. It was a song for her, or about her. Goodness, she’d soon become too teary-eyed to read the music.

  “I like this song,” she whispered to him.

  “I’m glad,” he whispered back.

  “It’s much better than Flowers of August.”

  “Anything is better than Flowers of August,” he replied, hitting an especially resonant note.

  Behind them, the children had quieted, entranced by the marvelous harmonies her husband was so adept at creating. The song rose to a bright and shimmering peak, a burst of happiness just like the happiness she felt in her heart. Her husband was so talented, and so amazing. She put her head against his shoulder. “Thank you, darling,” she said.

  He smiled and patted her hand upon the keyboard, then laced her fingers with his.

  “Minette,” said Josephine behind them. “How far you’ve come in your lessons. You must be very proud.”

  “Indeed,” echoed Warren. Everyone agreed that she was ever so much more talented than before, but Minette thought she was still nowhere as talented as her husband.

  “You must continue to play, so the babies will be entertained,” she said to August. She hoped that would give her some time to compose herself.

  A moment later, she was laughing with everyone else as August launched into a jocular rendition of Poggle and Woggle, silly lyrics and all.

  *** *** ***

  August stayed up with the men for a while before he made his way to the guest chambers. He let his valet undress him and take charge of his clothes, then slipped into a night shirt and crossed to the bedroom.

  He found Minette at the vanity table, brushing out her glossy curls. Her pale pink dressing gown gathered loosely at the waist, so he saw a hint of her beautifully curved bosom beneath her shift. He preferred to see her in pinks and florals, rather than black. After six months they had decided, with his mother’s blessing, to have done with mourning and dress in colors again.

  He walked over to her, taking in the furnishings and the great curtained bed with a rueful smile. “The Townsends have a jolly sense of humor, don’t they? To put us back in this room?”

  “Where else would they put us?” Minette’s laughter rang out in the echoing chamber. “I have many memories of this room, you know. Most of them bad.”

  “Then we shall have to make better ones.” August picked her up, sat down in her place, and deposited her in his lap. They peered into the vanity glass together, her light hair beside his dark waves, her blue eyes next to his hazel ones. The tortoiseshell mirror lay on the table before them. “Thank you for my present,” he whispered. “Although I only ever see myself in you.”

  Minette touched his cheek. “What a poetic thing to say. If you start writing poetry in addition to composing music, you shall become too captivating for words. Honestly, I don’t know how I could ever match up, with my poorly embroidered handkerchiefs.”

  “You’re accomplished at conversation,” he pointed out.

  “Little good that does a person.”

  “Ah, but you’re good at other things too.” He cupped her breast and ran a thumb across her nipple to feel her shudder against his chest. As he fondled her, she lifted his mirror and angled it so both of them could look into it at once.

  “There is an old wives’ tale that if you peer into a looking glass on Hallowe’en night, you’ll see your true love reflected back at you.” She grinned at him in the glass. “If only we’d tried that last Hallowe’en, it would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.”

  “You’re trouble personified,” he said, giving her a pinch. “And you always knew your true love, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did. But you took some convincing. A mirror might have helped.”

  No, nothing would have helped him but to be forced into a marriage with Minette. Perhaps some Hallowe’en magic had been at work, or perhaps they’d always been fated for one another. He put her on her feet and nudged her toward the bed, and went about the room extinguishing candles until it was as black as it had been that night. The fire’s muted glow disappeared completely when they drew the bed’s heavy curtains.

  Minette giggled in the black void and reached out to him, and nearly poked him in the eye. He found her shoulders and drew her close, and kissed her deeply in the darkness. “I can’t see you,” she complained when he released her. “I can’t see a thing.”

  They groped about until they located the edge of the bed curtain, and pulled it open again. As soon as he saw Minette, he forced her back upon the pillows and divested her of her dressing gown and shift while she squirmed and giggled some more. When she was naked in the firelight, she turned her attention to his night shirt and pushed it up over his head. He gazed at her lips as she fondled his cock with maddeningly erotic attention.

  “Taking my measure?” he asked.

  “And an impressive measure it is,” she answered in her adorable, shameless way. “It’s too bad that first encounter took place in the dark. I couldn’t see anything of your remarkable physique, only what I felt with my hands, and I was too shy to touch you very much. I remember so little! I honestly have no memory of how I ended up in your bed.”

  August pulled her closer, burying his nose in her hair. “I remember plenty of things. I remember how soft you were, and how lovely you smelled. If I wasn’t half drunk, I would have realized you weren’t a kitchen maid.”

  “Thank goodness you were half drunk.”
r />   He rolled her over and gave her bottom a spank. “Saucy little miss, aren’t you?”

  “But I can be as naughty and saucy as I like now that I’m breeding. Aurelia and Josephine tell me one of the great benefits of increasing is that they are spanked a lot less.”

  “I’ll spank you whenever you need it. Don’t test me in this, darling. Someone’s got to make you behave.” He caressed her rounded cheeks. “A paddle can impart a great deal of sting with very little harmful impact. So can a hand. Shall I show you?”

  “No, you needn’t,” she said quickly. “I’ll be good tonight, even if I wasn’t on my best behavior last Hallowe’en.”

  “You were very naughty last Hallowe’en. A proper lady would have stopped me. She would have flown from the bed as soon as I began molesting her.” August demonstrated this very same molestation, stroking her damp, hot pussy as she quivered beneath his touch.

  “You didn’t give me much opportunity, if you’ll remember,” she protested. “And you’re the one who insisted again and again that I was naughty, all the while you did terribly naughty things to me. How shocking you were.”

  “I was shocking?” He pressed a finger inside her, then another. “Have you any idea how I felt when I woke up and found you in my arms? It was the shock of my life. And then your brother came strutting in and—”

  Minette burst into laughter. “Strutting in? I hardly remember it that way.”

  “Because you were busy falling off the back of the bed as I was trying to put you to rights. Which was a damned waste of time, considering you’d bled all over the linens.” In the end, he had to laugh along with her. “What a nightmare it was.”

  “Perhaps,” said Minette, gazing into his eyes. “But somewhere along the line, it turned into a dream, don’t you think?”

  He didn’t answer, only gathered her close and showed her how much of a dream it was every moment she was near. He kissed her belly where their child grew, and caressed her in all the places she most liked as she trembled beneath his touch. Then he covered her with his body and pressed inside her with aching slowness until she begged and clutched at him for more. He’d never been good with words, like Minette, but he could give her his love and longing, now and forever.

  Minette was his song, his savior.

  She was the music that had finally healed his heart.

  THE END

  A Final Note

  I hope you enjoyed book three in my Properly Spanked series. If you’ve been following along, Aurelia had her grasshopper in Training Lady Townsend, Josephine had her tiger in To Tame A Countess, Minette had her swan in this book, and of course there’s one more heroine (and animal) to come—the Duke of Arlington’s Welsh bride, in Under A Duke’s Hand.

  I’m so grateful for all the readers who have read these new books and recommended them to others, especially those who don’t normally read historicals. As always, your thoughtful reviews mean the world to me, as do your comments on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. This journey is made more special because I’m sharing it with you.

  As for the last book in this spankalicious world, you can learn more about the Duke of Arlington’s upcoming story in the teaser below. You can also subscribe to my newsletter at AnnabelJoseph.com to keep up to date on book releases. For more frequent updates, follow me on Twitter (@AnnabelJoseph) or Facebook (if you like, shoot me a friend request!)

  As always, I would like to thank my tireless beta readers, GC, Janine, Doris, Tasha L. Harrison, and my friend Tiffany, who pitched the whole “best friend’s sister” storyline to me many months ago. Thanks also to Audrey, and Lina Sacher, my trusty and patient editors who provide invaluable help book after book.

  Coming Soon from Annabel Joseph

  Under A Duke's Hand, the final story in the Properly Spanked series

  A duke as wealthy and powerful as the Duke of Arlington requires, by matter of course, an elegant, perfectly pedigreed bride. Unfortunately, he must settle for the king’s choice: Miss Guinevere Vaughn, the rough-edged daughter of a border baron. She’s pretty enough for a Welsh hellion, but she hasn’t the necessary polish to succeed in London society. When Aidan explains that she’ll need to improve her manners—and her disposition—he finds himself locked in a vexing battle of wills.

  Gwen never asked to wed a duke. Her new husband is haughty, inflexible, and demanding, and makes no secret of his disdain for her upbringing. No matter how hard she tries to please him, she’s never good enough. He disciplines her with an iron hand, and then expects her to submit to his vile whims in bed. Not that his whims are…completely…vile…all of the time. It’s only that her husband doesn’t love her, and she wants him to love her.

  If only her feelings were not so complicated.

  If only life was not so difficult Under A Duke's Hand...

  Coming soon: A steamy bodyguard romance from Annabel’s alter ego, Molly Joseph

  PAWN, book one in the Ironclad Bodyguards series

  High stakes chess competition has always been a man’s game—until Grace Ann Frasier topples some of the game’s greatest champions and turns the chess world on its ear. Her prowess at the game is matched only by her rivals’ desire to defeat her, or, worse, avenge their losses. When an international championship threatens Grace’s safety, a bevy of security experts are hired to look after her, but only one is her personal, close-duty bodyguard, courtesy of Ironclad Solutions, Inc.

  Sam Knight knows nothing about chess, but he knows Grace is working to achieve something important, and he vows to shelter her from those who mean her harm. In the course of his duties, he realizes there’s more going on than a simple chess match between rivals, and his fragile client is all too aware of the stakes. When she leans on him for emotional support, attraction battles with professionalism and Sam finds his self-discipline wavering. Soon the complexity of their relationship resembles a chess board, where one questionable move can ruin everything—or win a game that could resonate around the world.

  Enjoy angsty, romantic intensity and hardcore alpha Masters?

  You should be reading my Cirque Masters series:

  Cirque de Minuit (Theo’s story)

  It’s no easy feat transitioning from the disciplined arena of competitive gymnastics to the artistic whirl of the Cirque du Monde. Kelsey Martin finds secret inspiration in Theo Zamora, a dark, taciturn trapezist—until his partner dies in a tragic accident and he decides to leave the circus for good.

  Theo doesn’t understand why Kelsey reaches out to him, only that she compels him with her unique combination of innocence and recklessness. Before long the two are collaborating on an aerial silks act for a new production, the Cirque de Minuit. Theo’s impatience with Kelsey’s naivete is matched only by his passion for her, and the two soon become embroiled in a tempestuous, consuming romance.

  But some still blame Theo for his partner’s accident, and danger wraps up the two performers as inevitably as the scarlet silk of their act. Theo and Kelsey must find a way to connect and trust one another as he leads her deeper and deeper into a dangerous world of control and desire.

  Bound in Blue (Jason’s story)

  At a small, struggling circus in Ulaanbaatar, a fearless trapezist fascinates Cirque du Monde talent scout Jason Beck, until he realizes, halfway through the act, that he already knows this exotic, blue-eyed beauty. Intimately. If he’d known she was part of the act he was here to recruit, he never would have done such basely carnal things to her the night before!

  Torn by professional and personal desires, Jason invites Sara to Paris. She’s thrilled to join Cirque du Monde, but her trapeze partner, Baat, is less cooperative. When tensions threaten the future of Sara and Baat’s act, she finds solace in a sexy, consuming Master/slave relationship with Jason. His strict requirements match perfectly with Sara’s desires to submit, to do whatever it takes to please her Master. Soon they’re barreling toward deeper commitments, even love.

  But circus life can be chaotic. Perilous. Cirque CEO�
��and brutal Master—Michel Lemaitre develops an uncomfortable interest in the submissive trapezist, and Baat becomes increasingly difficult to control. Fears and secrets, jealousy and uncertainties threaten to undo everything Sara and Jason have built in their intimate BDSM sessions. Hurt by lies, rocked by shocking revelations, the two must battle to remain bound together in love.

  Master’s Flame (Lemaitre’s story)

  In the sexually charged world of Cirque du Monde, CEO Michel Lemaitre reigns as king of depravity. He’s a stringent, brutal Master who selects his slaves based on their ability to cope with strict handling and pain. He exerts rigid control over his chosen partners and they submit to him in all things—that is, until fiery Italian acrobat Valentina Sancia enters his life.

  Valentina’s known as La Vampa, the flame of Napoli, and her tempestuous personality and wild libido soar as high as her circus tricks. Michel finds himself drawn to the red-headed firebrand even as he tries his hardest to resist her. It doesn’t help that the sensual beauty idolizes him and tempts him at every turn. He finally engages her in a one-month, no-holds-barred Master-slave relationship to prove their incompatibility.

  And that’s when the circus really begins.

  The two become wrapped up in bondage, cages, physical ordeals…and an emotionally fraught battle of wills. He’s never had a slave burn so bright, and Valentina’s heart is set on pleasing her Master, no matter the torment and trials she must endure. Is there such a thing as too much passion? Michel’s convinced there is, and he’s determined to tame a billowing love on the verge of blazing out of control.

  The Cirque Masters series is available wherever ebooks are sold.

  About the Author

  Annabel Joseph is a multi-published, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling BDSM romance author. She writes mainly contemporary romance, although she has been known to dabble in the medieval and Regency eras. She is recognized for writing emotionally intense BDSM storylines, and strives to create characters that seem real—even flawed—so readers are better able to relate to them. Annabel also writes vanilla (non-BDSM) erotic romance under the pen name Molly Joseph.