Benedict drew close just as one of the men snaked an arm around the young woman’s waist and pinned her to him, her back to his front. His other hand was on her bottom, squeezing and kneading. Benedict brought his gaze to the maid’s eyes. They were huge and filled with terror, and she was looking at him as if he’d just dropped fully formed from the sky. “What have we here?” he asked. “Just a bit of sport,” Cavender chortled. “My parents were kind enough to hire this prime morsel as the upstairs maid.” “She doesn’t appear to be enjoying your attentions,” Benedict said quietly. “She likes it just
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