Her Gift, The Duchess

Charlotte, a recent widow, sets out to find the perfect man with whom she can have a single night of pleasure. Little does she know, however, that the man knows more about what she needs than she does. Charlotte is surprised to find a maid named Mary in the duke's chambers, but Mary is more than she seems when she sets out to seduce Charlotte.

This is not a full length novel. It's a short, erotic tale that includes a man as a side character, rather than a hero. The duchess, on the other hand....

Excerpt:

When they came to what she assumed was the duke’s chambers, he stopped, opened the door and stepped to the side. “Mary will be along to assist you,” he said.

“Assist me with what?” Charlotte asked as she stepped into the room. Instead of answering, he closed the door. She wanted to run after him. To bring him back. He obviously knew more than Charlotte did. Charlotte laid her forehead against the door with a heavy thump and muttered, “What do I do now?”

“I believe he means for you to dress,” a silky voice called from the corner of the room. Charlotte spun quickly, relieved and not relieved all at the same time to find a young woman standing in the corner beside a steaming tub of water. The full bath rested before a crackling fire. “His Grace sent me for your pleasure,” she said with a smile. Charlotte stopped short. She didn’t look like a servant. She looked like a lady. One of odd circumstance, but still a lady.

“You are Mary?”

The lady laughed, a soft sound that moved across Charlotte’s skin like satin. “May I help you disrobe?”

“May I ask what your position within the household is?” Charlotte squeaked.

“I am not a member of the household staff,” she said, shaking her head. Her silky blonde curls danced across her shoulders. “I am here for your pleasure.” She had a voice like a siren and a smile that could sink ships. All gracing the most perfectly proportioned figure.

“Yes, you mentioned pleasure,” Charlotte murmured. “Do you also attend to the duke’s pleasure?” She pretended to pluck at an errant string on her sleeve. The words sounded waspish even to her own ears.

A tinkling little laugh was the lady’s response. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

Did she? Probably not.