by Regina Darcy
It was a wife’s duty to produce an heir and this could not be achieved through separate bedrooms. Although she was not privy to the secret ways of men and women, she was certain it involved being in the same bed. This marriage had not been by choice, but now that she was wed she had to make it work. A little voice at the back of her mind whispered that her newfound determination might have something to do with actually wanting the Duke, but she ignored it.
She was now a Duchess and the mistress of all that surrounded her. Today she would ponder no more on the events of the past. Instead she intended to explore the grounds. Quickly she put on her riding habit. After a brief visit to the kitchen for some packed sandwiched and scones, she snuck out the manor house towards the stables. The sun had yet to come out as it was not 7 am yet. Georgette adored morning rides though, and according to the butler, the Duke’s stable… actually they were hers as well now she guessed, were superb.
As she walked into the stables, she was assaulted by the familiar smell of hay, horse and leather. But what made her stop in her tracks was Douglas Montgomery, saddling his stallion. Her heart skipped a beat. His ruffled hair, unshaved jaw and dishevelled clothing only made him look more attractive, like a dashing pirate.
“Good morning Your Grace,” she said in a tentative voice.
“Why so formal my lady? This marriage will get very tedious if we insist on addressing each other formally,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye. “Douglas will do just fine.”
“Ok…Douglas,” she whispered and then beamed him a smile.
Douglas almost dropped the saddle. Her smile hit him right in the gut. So this is the way of things. He put the saddle on his horse and started tightening the stirrups.
“I see you are about to venture out. I was looking to go for a ride myself. May I accompany you?” Georgette asked, feeling awkward.
Douglas ran his fingers through his hair, then stared at the hellion that was now his wife. How would he protect himself from the inevitable heartache this union would bring? He had deliberately stayed away from his own marital bed last night. His hands clenched as he remembered his inner struggle. He knew it would likely take some time before she became someone’s mistress. No well-bred English woman would stray from the marital bed prior to providing an heir; still, the very thought of the coming betrayal had him clenching his fists in impotent rage. He took a deep breath and said;
“It would be my pleasure to go on a ride with you.”
He secured their lunch to his saddle. He then helped Georgette up on her mare and then swung himself on to his stallion. Soon they were both galloping down the tree-lined driveway. After a half an hour gallop, Douglas finally slowed down and stopped by a small stream.
Georgette also brought her horse to a standstill.
“This place is beautiful,” she whispered.
Douglas made a sudden gesture and his stallion took the opportunity to nip Georgette’s mare in the neck. She reacted by rearing her hind legs. Her mistress was caught completely off guard, yelped, tried desperately to regain her balance and failed miserably. She instead slid over the back of the horse and was promptly dumped on the ground. Before either of them could react, the mare sat off in a sprint, straight for the house.
“Are you unharmed?”
“Yes.”
Douglas grabbed her arms and lifted her up. She was incredibly light. “Luckily those layers you are wearing served as a cushion,” he commented dryly.
Irritated at his indifference, Georgette dusted off her dress, turned around and started walking back to the manor house.
As he watched her stiff walk off, Douglas swore internally, he would have to ride straddled with her in front of him. That was the only gentlemanly thing to do. Taking a deep breath, he urged his steed to a trot and as he approached the future duchess he grabbed her with one hand. In one fell swoop he had her sat in front of him.
Georgette yelped in surprise. She opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. For some strange reason, she felt comforted and protected in his strong embrace.
Douglas let the stallion run free at a full gallop. Georgette felt the crisp morning air rush across her face. Soon the horse was on a trot. They rode along the stream in amiable silence until they came to a secluded rest area. Douglas helped his wife off the horse and holding her hand started walking along the stream. Georgette was left extremely embarrassed. She had never held a man’s hand before. Sensing her discomfort, Douglas turned to her and said,
“No need to fret little robin. We are wed now. Handholding is perfectly respectable in private.”
“Why do you insist on calling me that silly name,” Georgette asked curious. Douglas raised his eyebrow and replied, “Because you are as delicate and as beautiful as that robin over there. Your hair aflame with vibrancy and life.” As he whispered his last words, he was close enough for her to drown in his dark eyes. She held her breath. But he did not kiss her. Instead he turned around and started pointing out the other wild life species in the area. His breadth of knowledge was impressive. Georgette found herself listening with avid interest.
By unspoken mutual consent, they spent the rest of the morning getting to know each other. As they prepared to depart during midday, neither of them noticed the suspicious characters that had surrounded their secret haven.
They took out Douglas first. As he tumbled to the ground, Georgette’s screams were cut short by the beefy hand that covered her mouth. One of the men approached the Duke, checked his chest and turned around and said to his accomplices, “He is still breathing.”
Overcome by terror, she started to struggle. Taking her assailant by surprise, she managed to get loose. But she didn’t get very far, before everything went dark. She never saw what clubbed her over the head.
Three dirty, bulky men stood over the man and the woman that were laying on the ground.
“So this is the trollop,”
“Looks mighty ladylike,”
‘Tis how them rich birds are like, all posh on the outside but dirty on the inside,” the second man muttered, his voice dripping with insinuation.
The men laughed knowingly.
“What we doing with the man?”
“Leave him where he is. The Desdemona woman only paid for the abduction and delivery of the woman.”
The third man bent over and sniffed a lock of the woman’s hair.
“She smells like juicy melons, guvnor,” he muttered, while caressing the hair strand. The man that was in charge gave him a swift kick in the ribcage.
“The lady is expected unharmed!”
CHAPTER 8
The Duke of Staffordshire was in hell.
He woke up in the field, hours after the assault on him and the Duchess, alone. He then walked for over three hours to get home. During that entire time, his mind was beset with horrific images of what Georgette’s kidnapper had in store for her. Terror like nothing he had experienced before gripped him.
Who would be so bold as to kidnap her, whom? As he racked his brain, no obvious culprit emerged.
When he reached the residency, he found the whole house in uproar. Distressed by the unknown whereabouts of his Master and Mistress, Jenkins had contacted the Viscount of Wiltshire. Nathaniel was in the process of organising a manhunt.
“Douglas, for God’s sake man, you had us worried to death,” he exclaimed, upon seeing his friend.
“Where is the Duchess?” he asked looking perplexed.
“Taken,” Douglas replied, ice in his voice.
“What do you mean taken?” Nicholas asked. “By whom?”
“I don’t know,” Douglas replied clenching his fists in frustration. “But when I get my hands on the culprit, heaven help him.”
But before either men could start giving suggestions for where to start searching for the Duchess, the butler walked briskly into the room waving a piece of paper.
“An urgent message Your Grace!”
Douglas frowned and grabbed th
e paper. As he read it quietly, he went pale.
“Monty, what does it say?” Nathaniel asked.
“It identifies the whereabouts of the Duchess. Grab your sword and your pistols,” he replied grimly.
The Duchess of Staffordshire woke up with a headache the likes that she had never experienced before. Her head throbbed like she had hit it somewhere. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. She knew that whatever trouble she was in now, was much worse than the scandal of her marriage. The only thing that kept her anchored was the knowledge that her husband was alive. Oh Douglas!
Until she had seen him knocked cold by their assailants, she hadn’t realised that her heart was already lost. The Duke had played a high stakes game by marrying her and he had won. Gritting her teeth, she got up and inspected the room she was in. She would have expected a dirty cellar, but instead she was in a room whose opulence could rival Netherfield House. On tiptoe she walked to the door and tried the handle. It confirmed her suspicion. Despite the opulence, she was indeed a prisoner. She turned around and walked towards the window. Her heart sank. She was several feet above the ground. Any fall would surely kill her instantly.
Logically she assessed her situation. Apart from her bump, she was intact. The fact that she was in a luxurious bedroom meant her abductors had no ill intentions in the immediate future. She took a deep breath.
As she stood by the window of the manor house where she had been brought, her eyes were dry and her heart determined. She would not let these ruffians soil her without a fight. She gulped. Hopefully all they wanted was money and not her virtue.
When the door swung open two hours later, Georgette stood at the ready, a vase held in her trembling hands. If she could, she had every intention of fleeing. The minute the person walked into the room, she smashed the vase on his chest. He was too tall for her to get to his head. All she accomplished was to wet the frock of her abductor.
Puzzled, her jailor looked at her, annoyance colouring his features. It was the Earl of Chesterton. He did not look pleased.
He frowned as he took the remains of the vase from her hand. “Duchess, I would be most appreciative if you refrain from further assault on my person.”
Georgette scooted backwards, holding on to her skirts. “I would have appreciated not being assaulted and dragged here. I guess we both have to live with our disappointments,” she spat. “You, sir, are a villainous cad. Unworthy of your title or the right to call yourself a gentleman.”
“My lady, I beg of you, do not indispose yourself. You have nothing to fear from me or my servants. They did not abduct you,” the Earl explained exasperated.
“Then why am I here?” she asked, confused.
“All will be made clear in a moment,” the Earl explained, “I have someone here who will bring light on the matter. Please follow me.” With no further ado, he turned around and started walking away.
Georgette was left confused by the turn of events. Reasoning that she had no choice but to find out what her jailor had in store for her, she plucked up her courage and followed him, her head held high.
CHAPTER 9
Douglas raced to the Earl’s manor fully intending to make him pay for harming even a single hair on his wife’s head. But once he arrived there, the Earl was not in attendance. He had taken his butler and fled the coop. Before panic could set in the housekeeper offered to bring him to his spouse. As they got closer to the reading room, where the duchess was held, he heard loud voices. Georgette was clearly in good health as there could be no mistaking the anger with which she was chastising some unknown man.
It sounded like full on war.
“What is the name of all that is holy, is that ruckus? Nathaniel asked perplexed.
“I believe it is my wife,” Douglas replied, shaking his head in disbelief. There were more noises of items crashing.
“Who is the poor chap she is with? She sounds angry enough to bring the house down.”
“Let’s find out.”
They entered the room. The scene that presented itself in front of them was most extraordinary. Stephan Danford was corned next to a bookshelf, his hand held up to protect himself from his sister’s endless assault, with what looked to be an edition of Aristotle’s musings.
Seeing how his brother-in-law did not look like he was about to lift a finger against the new duchess, her husband decided to stay by the side-lines and watch events unfold.
“How could you!? You blackguard! Cad! Swine!”
“Calm down Ettie!”
“Don’t you dare Ettie me!”
“How could you? We could both have been severely hurt.”
“Countess Desdemona offered to help get you back. How was I to know her men, were going to go about it less delicately than I expected?” her brother whined. The Duchess threw the book at his head. He ducked.
“But it all worked out!”
“I’ll be the judge of that. I have yet to set eyes on my husband. If your stupid folly has led to his harm I will strip off your hide myself!” She picked up another book and swung it at him. He quickly stepped backwards.
“How was I to know you actually wanted to stay married to him? After all, he practically abducted you,” Stephen whined.
“Did he now? Refresh my memory, but it seems you gambled me away!” she shouted, taping her foot indignantly.
The two men who were watching the confrontation unfold, looked on in amusement.
“Maybe we should alert them to our presence,” Nathaniel whispered. Douglas held up a hand to quiet him down.
“Not yet old friend. I am curious, to the reason for the Duchesses’ unseemly display of emotions.”
Stephen Danford managed to squeeze past a shelf and dart behind the bureau. “That was a mistake, I was only to look as if I had gambled our inheritance away.”
“What do you mean ‘look as if’?” his sister asked, anger momentarily forgotten.
“We needed to make the Earl look like the worst of scoundrels to cement his villainous reputation.”
“Whatever for?”
“I cannot tell you, suffice to say he is on his way on a secret mission for the Crown in Paris.”
“You ruined my reputation, so you could help the Earl play spies!” Georgette picked up the nearest vase and slung it at her brother. He ducked just in time.
“I thought you said you loved him,” he shouted.
“I do. Will all my heart, until my last breath,” she shouted back. She picked up a dictionary and threw it. “But that,” she threw a second book, “is neither here”, a third book went flying “nor there!”.
Douglas had heard enough. Before his wife found something else to throw at her brother, he came up behind her and took her in his arms. She started struggling until he whispered, “Now, now, that is no way for a duchess to behave whilst she is being saved from a rascal by her husband.” Georgette stilled in his arms.
Stephen looked at the intruders and started gazing around the room for an escape route.
“Stephan, Nathaniel, leave us,” Douglas said, still holding his wife. As his cowardly brother in-law passed by, Douglas looked at him sternly and said, “I will deal with you later.”
He waited until both men had departed before slowly turning his wife around. Shyly she stared at her feet. Douglas put his finger under her chin and lifted her face, so she was gazing in his eyes.
“I have heard a rumour Duchess, that you have feelings for you husband? Is this true?” he asked. Although he had witnessed her passionate declaration of love, his heart longed to hear it from her lips again.
Georgette blushed from head to toe. Unable to break eye contact, she answered honestly, “Yes.”
“Well, you will be happy to hear that the Duke is completely mesmerised by his wife. Some say his love for her has brought him to his knees,” Douglas continued.
“They do,” Georgette whispered, her heart beating wildly in her chest at the joy she was feeling. She dared not move, least this all
turned out to be a dream.
“Yes.”
Douglas caressed her face. It had been but a few days and they had been apart for but a moment, but she was the keeper of his heart and he was grateful for it. She was a jewel among women and he now knew she was his wholeheartedly.
“There is nothing for it. The Duke is a very possessive man, I do believe he intends to not only stay true to his wedding vows but shower the new duchess with all his affections,” he whispered.
Those were the last words Georgette heard before his lips captured hers and she was lost to all but the embrace of her husband.
“Let’s go home my darling.” Before she could protest he lifted her up in his arms and started walking towards the entrance hall. Georgette curled up in his embrace. Truth be told, she was perfectly content where she was.
The End
BONUS CHAPTER 1:
Winning the Viscount’s Heart
CHAPTER 1
As make-believe as fairy tales are, they give pretty young women a sense of vanity while in good fortune, and hope while suffering. Raised on the dreams of poetry and make-believe, Emmeline Knight had received a fair share of both. Despite being a gentleman’s daughter, she held herself loftily above the flirtations of those who shared her rank—and of those flirtations there were many. She instead dreamt of a prince charming, or at least a wealthy peer, who would sweep her off her feet into a world of more lavish living.
She had spent the entire evening in the centre of revelry, passed from one gentleman to another, until she had torn herself away for a moment to breathe. Bodies were packed close together and potential lovers stole furtive glances at one another as the music continued to swell. Her dearest friend, Miss Lucy Grove, pulled her behind the crowd.
“Well now, Emmeline, are your feet sore yet?” she teased. “You have hardly found a moment’s rest since the night began. Quite popular among the local prospects, are we?”
