The Duke's Dilemma

by Fenella J Miller

  Indeed, she realized, as they reached their destination, her knowledge of the vastly unpleasant activities involved in becoming a wife had added to her determination never to marry. When she was with Ralph she became confused. She wanted to know what it would be like to run her fingers through his thick hair, feel his lips on hers, have him caress her.

  Ralph continued to urge her in the direction of his parlour but some instinct made her pause. ‘I think it would be best if we remained here. This is to be our sitting room in future. See, there are two day-beds and several armchairs around the fire; we ‘ll be quite comfortable.’

  She slipped out of his loose grasp and walked purposefully towards a small curved armchair. If she sat in that she would be safe - there was room within its arms for only one. As she reached the rug that had been spread across the scrubbed boards, he was beside her, blocking her path.

  ‘Shall we sit on the chaise-longue, my dear? It’s nearer to the fire and away from the draft of the door.’

  She hesitated a moment too long and before she could refuse she was being guided to the piece of furniture he’d indicated. She had no option, and unless she made an unseemly fuss, she must sit with him.

  She settled gracefully, crossing her ankles demurely and placing her hands in her lap. She kept her eyes lowered, finding his piercing stare unnerving. He arrived next to her but kept a seemly distance, leaving almost two feet between them. Her pulse began to slow, wild thoughts of wantonness dispersed; she was once more in control of the situation.

  ‘Do you intend to leave the shutters closed in the main part of the house or open them each morning to give the impression we are living as usual?’

  He didn’t answer stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles and staring at the toes of his polished boots as if he suspected they had sprung a leak. She waited for a moment, believing he hadn’t heard her polite enquiry and prepared to repeat it. ‘Ralph, I asked if you ...’ The words dried in her mouth as his head swung towards her and she saw the predatory gleam in his eyes.

  He was playing games with her, had sat so far away in order to spring his trap when she least expected it. She sprang to her feet believing she could escape into the safety of her bedchamber. She was too slow. Before she had time to take a step he was beside her, his bulk obstructing the path, solid as a wall.

  It had been her intention to pass by, asking him icily to step aside. But he didn’t touch her, didn’t speak, just stood there, inches away, waiting for her to move. A strange heat spiralled from her toes to her breasts. She had stood as close to gentlemen before, but all she’d been aware of was their body odour, the smell of alcohol or tobacco on their persons, never had she wanted to close the gap.

  She swayed and as she did so his arms grasped her and her feet left the floor as he lifted her until she was on a level with him. All thoughts of protest evaporated under the heat they were generating. Her hands inched upwards, over his chest, until they reached the strong column of his neck. Her thumbs paused under his jaw and his pulse pounded beneath her fingertips – knowing she was the cause of his excitement filled her with elation.

  This released the last of her inhibitions and forgetting all she had been told about the dangers of allowing a gentleman to take liberties with her person, she buried her fingers in his hair, tilting her head to give him access to her lips.

  Her eyes fluttered shut as his mouth burned an imprint on hers; at first the pressure was gentle, his lips firm on hers, but then she was crushed closer, felt something hard pressing into her stomach. Her lips softened and he deepened the kiss; his tongue slid along her lips sending waves of pleasure around her.

  She strained closer, wanting something more, not certain exactly what. With something resembling a groan he twisted his long body on to the chaise-longue bringing her down with him so she lay trapped by his weight against the high padded back.

  Her head was whirling; he removed his mouth and began to trail soft, hot kisses down her cheek, her jaw, and lower still until he was kissing the curve of her breasts. The bodice of her gown was too tight, in fact all her clothes were constricting; she longed to remove them and feel her flesh and his meld together. He was pushing down the shoulder of her gown, continuing his exploration, she thought she’d go mad from the heat that burned inside her.

  Suddenly the stair door crashed back and a hundredweight of jealous canine launched himself across the room, teeth barred, a terrifying growl rumbling in his throat. In one smooth movement Ralph was on his feet and standing behind the day-bed, breathing heavily and backing away from the dog.

  Hester felt the hot wet tongue of her pet on her nakedness and the heat of passion evaporated. ‘Get off, you stupid dog. Get down, let me adjust my clothing.’ She heard a door further along the hall slam shut. He had retreated to his bedchamber; she wasn’t sure if she was angry or relieved by Jet’s sudden intervention.

  However, as her head cleared she realized they both owed the animal a debt of gratitude. They had been making love in public; anyone could have come upstairs and caught them; her good name would have been besmirched and Ralph’s honour gone, even marriage would not have removed the stain.

  Such things were only supposed to be done between married couples and then only in the privacy of their bedchamber. It was as though an icy pail of snow poured over her head; shamed by her wanton behaviour she scrambled to her feet and ran to the bedchamber she was sharing with Birdie.

  Jet flopped down outside the bedroom door presumably content he’d done his duty and saved his beloved mistress from disgrace.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hester lay still staring up at the sloping ceiling unable to think where she was. Then there was a flicker of candlelight and she knew.

  ‘Birdie, is that you?’

  A soft chuckle greeted her comment. ‘It is indeed, my dear, who might you be expecting at one o’clock in the morning?’

  ‘Goodnight, Birdie, I’ll talk to you in the morning.’

  An hour passed and she tried to suppress her overwhelming desire to empty her bladder. Eventually she accepted the inevitable, she would have to get up and find a chamber pot if she wished to sleep any more that night. There was one placed discreetly behind a lacquer screen in the far corner of the room, but she couldn’t bear the thought of using that with Birdie in the other bed. No, she would have to venture outside her bedchamber and find somewhere else.

  She slipped out, then pushing her feet into slippers and taking her robe in one hand, she crept towards the door. There was sufficient light from the glowing embers in the fireplace for her to see her way. She pulled open the door and hesitated.

  Her toes bumped the recumbent form of her dog stretched out like a hearthrug across the door. Thank goodness she hadn’t stepped straight out or she’d have tripped over him and roused the entire household. After pulling the door behind her she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  The large grate on the far side of the room had been replenished with coal and she crossed to the fire. Removing a candlestick from the mantelshelf she lit it from the embers. Jet, was happy to have company; he padded after her, nosing her thigh and making a low rumble of greeting in his throat.

  ‘Shush, silly boy. I can hear you. I have to go downstairs - I suppose you’ll come with me, and I shall be grateful of the company.’ Hester knew the best place to look for relief would be in the main part of the house. It would mean first finding her way in to the freezing grand hall and then to a small anteroom in which she was certain there was somewhere suitable.

  Descending the stairs was no problem and she was glad the dog was close beside her, the nearer she got to the bottom, and the further away from the others, the more nervous she felt. Remembering what had happened the last time she’d emerged unexpectedly from similar stairs she stopped, pushed on the door and sent her pet ahead.

  He bounded through and stood head to one side, tail wagging, waiting for her to join him. The passage wasn’t cold but she knew ventu
ring in to the main part of the house would be decidedly unpleasant.

  On impulse she slipped along to the boot room and removing a cloak, slipped her feet into the nearest pair of clogs. Her candle flickered and wavered on the shelf as she tied the ribbon at the neck and pulled the hood over her head. The dog watched her with growing excitement. ‘No, I’m not going outside, not in the middle of the night. You’ll just have to wait until the morning.’ She reached down and stroked his head. ‘I suppose if you must you’ll find a corner somewhere.’ She smiled to herself knowing it would be more sensible for her to relieve herself the same way.

  After picking up her candlestick she walked along the passage to the door that led into a main thoroughfare. On pushing it open an icy gust of wind tore past her extinguishing her candle.

  Paralysed by fear she flattened herself against the wall, believing she was in the presence of an evil spirit. What else would create such a blast when all the shutters and windows were closed?

  She clenched her jaw to stop her teeth from clattering. Then a cold nose pressed impatiently into her hand and her breath hissed through her teeth. ‘I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I? If there was anything supernatural in the house you would be the first to detect it.’ Reassured by the dog she gathered her wits and tried to visualize how far it was to the grand hall where she might be able to relight her candle. Her mouth curved a little, she already had the perfect guide.

  ‘Come along, old fellow, you lead me to the hall.’ She twisted her fingers in to his ruff and pressed close to his side. He seemed to understand and immediately moved forward. She kept at his side, letting him take her along the inky corridor to where she would find what she so desperately needed.

  After a few minutes she thought she saw a flicker of light ahead - good, the fire must still be burning, the tree trunks alight. She shivered as another icy draught swirled around her feet. She was pleased she’d had the forethought to add an extra layer to her night clothes; this side of the house was freezing, her face was unpleasantly chilled.

  They were almost into the hall when she stopped. It was too cold - there could be no fire burning here. Her skin prickled. If the fire was out, what was the light she had seen?

  She whispered to her dog. ‘Jet, do you think it safe? You’re not growling, your hackles are down, so have I nothing to worry about?’ The dog nudged her and the sudden movement almost made her lose control of her bladder. She had to find a retiring room such, she would worry about the light afterwards.

  Not pausing to light a candle, just using her excellent sense of direction, she turned towards the door and, with one hand trailing across the panelled walls, continued round the hall until she came to the door she needed. ‘Wait here, Jet, I’ll only be a moment.’

  Inside it was so dark, far worse than being in the stairwell. She recalled there was a tinderbox and candlestick inside the door. Could she manage to do this by touch alone? Eventually she created a spark and the fluff burnt brightly, long enough for her to relight her candle. She lit a second candle and placed her own next to the privy.

  Her clothing readjusted, comfortable at last, forgetting about the icy blasts and the strange light, she stepped out, remembering to snuff out the spare candle. She expected her dog to be waiting but he wasn’t there. The single candle failed to illuminate the area and as there was no red glow coming from the massive grate she only had a single flickering flame to guide her back.

  ‘Jet. Jet, where are you? Come here, boy.’ Her voice sounded loud in the emptiness. There was no response. Should she call again? She leaned against the wooden walls and her candlestick wavered in the darkness.

  Would it be sensible to wait for Jet? Unexpectedly the sound of the dog barking as if he was trapped inside the very walls echoed around the deserted hall. Grabbing her skirts she fled. Her mind was racing, wild thoughts of ghosts and hobgoblins uppermost. Her beloved dog had been taken this time and trapped forever in the fabric of the building. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks, but she ignored them, just wanting to reach Ralph and the sanctuary of his arms.

  *

  The frantic tapping on his door dragged Ralph from a fitful slumber in which he had been chasing his love through the mist and no matter how fast he ran she always remained out of his grasp.

  ‘Ralph, Ralph, let me in, please let me in. Jet has been taken. The ghosts have got him.’

  Christ in his Heaven! What disaster had occurred this time? In one fluid movement he rolled out of bed and threw open the door. Hester fell into his arms.

  ‘What is it sweetheart? You’re shaking. Come in, quickly, before you wake everyone.’

  Leaving the door fully open, his wits had not quite forsaken him, he gathered her near, loving the feel of her wet face on his naked chest. He stroked her back, murmuring soothing nonsense to her until she calmed.

  ‘Ralph! You’ve no clothes on.’

  ‘And you, my love, have on far too many.’ His passion fuelled brain cleared as the significance of her garments registered. ‘Why are you in clogs and a cloak? Good God! You’ve not been outside?’

  She wriggled free and stepped across to stand in front of the fire. ‘Of course not. I went downstairs to … Well I needed to go into the hall and Jet came with me.’ Her voice faltered and there were fresh tears in her eyes. ‘He’s vanished, Ralph. The ghosts took him. One minute he was there the next I could hear him barking in the walls. He’s been spirited into the fabric of the house to bark and growl for eternity.’

  If she hadn’t looked so wretched he would have laughed at her nonsense. ‘I’m sure there’s a rational explanation, my love. Sit by the fire whilst I make myself presentable, then you can explain exactly what happened.’

  He pulled on his breeches and shirt, hastily pushing in the tail, then grabbed his boots and rammed his bare feet straight in. He smiled grimly - the last time he’s had to dress in such a hurry had been in Spain when his brigade had come under attack form a bunch of renegade Frenchies.

  Decent, he turned back to face the young woman who had been watching his every move with obvious interest. He felt a second surge of desire but forced it down. There would be plenty of time when things returned to normal.

  ‘Tell me, darling girl, what frightened you?’

  ‘I already told you, I went downstairs and Jet vanished, only his ghostly barking left behind.’

  He attempted to hide his smile and failed – she was not pleased by his levity.

  ‘Sometimes, Waverley, I wish I’d never made your acquaintance. It’s no laughing matter; my dog’s gone and all you can do is snigger.’ She tossed her head and her eyes flashed.

  In two strides he was beside her. Forgetting the reason she was there he lifted her in to his arms and closed her mouth with his. For an instant she resisted but then melted against him and he was lost. Her gentle pressure on his chest forced him to release her.

  ‘Ralph, you cannot keep doing this. There are more important matters for us to attend to.’ She gazed at him, her lovely face flushed with passion and he ached to consummate their love, forget the danger and lose himself in her. She saw his expression change and understood.

  ‘No, Ralph, this is neither the time nor the place. I shall wait outside for you.’ Wisely not remaining to hear his response she stalked out giving him vital minutes for his passion to subside. He doused his face in cold water from the jug on the night stand and pulled on his top-coat.The make-shift sitting room was ablaze with candles, she hadn’t been idle these past minutes.

  ‘Hester, I must beg your forgiveness, yet again, for …’

  She raised her hand. ‘I’m as much to blame as you. Now I’m here, safe with you …’ Her lips twitched as she said this and he felt his groin responding. ‘I think I might have over reacted and there must be a sensible explanation, although I cannot think what it might be.’

  ‘Go back to bed, sweetheart, I’ll wake the rest of the men and well search downstairs. You’ll come to no harm whilst I’m here, I promise
you.’

  *

  ‘Next time, perhaps you’ll overcome your scruples and use the facilities in here,’ Miss Bird said wryly as Hester climbed back in bed.

  ‘I know, it was foolish of me but I didn’t want to wake you. Jet has been stolen away and it’s my fault.’ She blew out the candle and pulled the comforter over her head hoping her companion would offer no comment.

  ‘Whatever you might think, my dear, however much the evidence points to the contrary, I’m not convinced these mysterious disappearances have anything to do with the supernatural. Think about it, no one has actually seen a ghostly presence; there have been no white shapes floating in the air, no moaning and clanking of chains, have there?’

  ‘No, I suppose not. But my dog has vanished and I heard him barking but he couldn’t get to me.’

  The bed creaked as Birdie settled down again. ‘But it’s far more likely that he’s got himself shut into a cupboard. Don’t fret, my dear, Waverley will discover him, if not tonight, then tomorrow when it’s light.’

  In sombre mood Hester accompanied her friend downstairs at dawn next morning. The two girls were also unusually quiet. Perhaps the missing dog was upsetting them too. No-one had had much sleep and all were ready to start at the slightest sound.

  ‘Meg, get the range burning and I’ll make us a hot drink. Polly, finish off the bread and get it into the oven as soon as it’s hot enough,’ Birdie said.

  ‘What shall I do, Birdie? It’s too dark to go outside and I don’t wish to stand around idle whilst everyone else is busy.’

  ‘If you must do something, my dear, take the candle down to the root cellar and fill up the basket with a selection of vegetables for today’s meals.’

  Hester wanted to refuse; having no wish to go into the dark on her own after all that had happened. Knowing this was irrational but she wasn’t entirely convinced their problems were caused by anything mortal. She sighed. Everyone else was busy – there was no choice, all must do their part today.