by Lisa Torquay
He stared her for long seconds; put his hand over hers. “I see.” He yielded. “I’ll not keep it from you anymore. Is that fine with you?”
She smiled sweetly. “Yes, of course it is.”
“Good!” He said with finality and they continued their dinner.
That night in bed, they held each other tightly. They’d been sleeping in his huge master bed together every night. Philip wanted her with him. He wanted to touch her and detect the changes in her body. The doctor had told him that he wouldn’t be able to…touch her when she went into confinement. The hell he wouldn’t, he’d thought hotly. Unless he’d harm her. He’d requested Thomas to ask Nell about that, as servants had no such sensibilities of the noblemen. Thomas had come back with the information that peasants had little regard for confinement, as all of them went about their lives as normally as it got. Good news, he thought to himself. There’d be no doctor ruling his life where Selene was concerned.
“I’ll have to travel to London for the final sessions of Parliament.” He said in her ear.
“Is that so?” A little disappointed, he realised.
“Yes.” He held her closer. “Unfortunately. I’ve made some bills and have to be there for the vote.”
“Hm, I see.” She caressed his sleek dark hair and he revelled in it. “When will you be gone?
“Tomorrow morning.” He kissed her forehead.
“So soon?” She snuggled into him.
“Yes. I’ll be back in the end of the week.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Will you be alright?”
“No doubt.” In moments, she fell asleep. She’d been doing a lot of that lately.
Next morning, he disentangled pitifully from her, kissed her on the forehead and left before he changed his mind.
Chapter 20
Without Philip around, the house felt cold and empty, even though fireplaces got lit every evening and the servants circulated the house all the time. Barely two days had passed and she already missed him. She kept busy with her books, her knitting and embroidery. The latter, she endured, as she thought she had not enough skills for it. Running the manor also took a great deal of time.
She sat in the cosily furnished drawing room that morning, alternating between books and needlework. The butler knocked and handed her a letter. After he’d left, she opened it. Her father’s doctor communicated that her father lay ill with a fever, nobody knew if it’d break. Her father obtained medical cares in the Drawbridge house in London. With Charles nowhere to be found, the doctor worried about the old man’s loneliness and suggested her to visit.
Selene would have to go, even if she still held some grudges towards him. Philip would be none too happy with that either. She’d write him. They’d meet in Crompton house anyway. She left directions and instructions with the butler, telling him where she’d go and why. She summoned Nell and prepared for the trip.
Next dawn, brought an agreeable weather, which contributed for them to reach London in minimal time. Selene headed straight to her father’s. She’d go home to Crompton house later. Upon arriving at her father’s, though, she encountered the house in a mess and her father very badly treated. The few staff left wasn’t enough to run the house. She had to use her lady-of-the-manor skill to put an order in all that. Nell helped but it took all day. Exhausted, she decided to overnight in Drawbridge house.
During the night, her father entered in a delirious state, which kept her by his side, trying to cool down the fever. Eventually, she’d have to go to the apothecary’s for more of the doctor’s prescriptions.
Philip sat in Parliament in a state of utter impatience. Already this morning, he wanted to go back to the manor and stay with Selene. Speech after speech, he only wanted to be with her, lie with her, snuggle with her. Whatever it was, he wanted her company for it. It threw him in a torrid state of frustration never felt in his life. Not minding the sideways looks, he stood and left, before he started screaming his impatience in the middle of the deadly quiet room.
In the club, the evening before, Darius had told him the gossip had been merciless where Selene was concerned. That infuriated Philip to uncontrollable point. How dare these people talk against the duchess! It made him even more feverish to go to her and give her his support in whichever way he could.
Already past eleven in the morning, Selene managed to leave Drawbridge house to go to the apothecary. She walked fast and worried, mindless whether someone saw her or not. She walked so distractedly, she didn’t see the man who stopped in front of her and almost collided with him. She lifted her bonneted head annoyed. Cunningham. Oh, dear! This was the least convenient time, place and person.
“Oh, Lord Cunningham.” She tried to be polite.
“Lady Crompton!” She didn’t miss his jocose tone. “What a surprise.”
“It certainly is. My father is unwell, so I’m helping with his treatment.” She said without preamble. The quickest she disengaged from him, the better.
“Is that so?” He took her hand and bowed over it. “Congratulations on your nuptials.” He smiled knowingly. “It’s not every day that we see a woman twice a duchess.” He mocked and paused for some seconds. “Of the same house.”
“Thank you, my lord.” She pretended to miss the contempt in him. “Now, if you excuse me.” But he held her hand firmly. She faced him with a stony expression in her vivid green eyes, which made him release her.
She walked past him hurriedly. Trying to forget the unpleasantness he made her feel, raced to the apothecary, bought what she needed and rushed to her father’s house. She spent the next hours by his side.
From afar, Philip watched the exchange between bewildered and enraged. Selene and Cunningham? What was she doing in town? She never told him she planned to come. Was she having some secret…thing with the pauper? The Earl had held her hand quite…familiarly in Philip’s opinion. He went home, knowing that she’d stay there if in town. He sat and waited for a long time, but she never showed up. Confused and frustrated, he went to the club.
During that night, the fever subsided, causing Robert to wake up feebly. His eyes surprised on her. She kept cooling his skin, silently. She had nothing to say to him after all.
Weakly, he took her hand in his sweaty, feverish one, giving it a faint squeeze. “If I had known that clearing Charles’ debts would make no difference, I wouldn’t have forced you to marry.” He said simply.
She made herself nod, accepting this apology of sorts. He fell in a deep sleep after that. When the doctor declared him out of danger, she hired a nurse to take care of him and left to the manor.
She arrived in the manor weary and sad. She’d spent the trip ruminating what her father had said and tried to put up with the feelings it evoked. Her dream of a love match. She loved her husband, even if she didn’t know it to be reciprocated. She’d decided to marry Philip so she could at least love and cherish him, however unilaterally. She felt happy. He was the husband she’d dreamed during her debutante years. Not being her place to force him to love her, she would remain at his side as much as she could. Her father had wronged her, for sure. Nevertheless, in her new life, she’d met the infuriatingly attractive new duke. Either the Ton found it right or wrong, she had encountered a certain degree of happiness. She wasn’t about to complain. Even less now that she carried the fruit of their…story.
After soaking in a long bath and managing to eat something, she chose an early night, tucking herself in the master bed. Philip had told her they’d be using only one bed, his. The adjoining lady’s chamber would serve for her clothes and dressing. Her tired mind raced thinking about her trip to London, her father and the brief unpleasant encounter with the Earl.
She must have dozed away, for she woke up startled with a door suddenly opening. “Philip!” She welcomed him in a sleepy voice.
He looked…angry? The sole light came from the fire in the fireplace, throwing light on him in angles. She sat up to better see him.
He closed the door with a dry thud. He
looked sinfully dishevelled, ruffled sleek dark hair, muddy boots, dusty jacket. He seemed like he’d rode hell bent!
“Is the pauper your lover?” His silky rich voice a well of suspiciousness.
“I beg your pardon?” Quizzical eyes, pleated eyebrows, she could hardly think of whence that had come from.
Oh, she looked all cosy and sleepy in his bed! Like she’d always belonged there. But then she had, hadn’t she, being the Duchess of Crompton twice. Rage and desire dwelled in him. He’d rode like a dement, images of her and the pauper harassing his imagination. The further he rode, the angrier he became. He arrived, practically threw his horse bridle to the groom and rushed up, seeing light in his chamber. He’d left London after another deadly boring Parliament session, of which he remembered absolutely nothing.
“Yes!” Her loose rich brown hair and nightgown made his anger falter in favour of his desire. He resisted. “I saw you talking with him in London!”
“Talking?” She sat straighter. “Since when this is proof that he’s my lover?” She inquired hotly.
Hotly as his body got at the sight of her. “You went to London in secret; didn’t stay in Crompton house, rushing back to the manor, I presume.”
She stood up from the bed, barefoot, beautiful. She approached him, fury on her vivid green eyes. “My father got sick. There was nobody to take care of him. The doctor wrote me!” She breathed hard. “I wrote you before I left. Didn’t you receive it?”
After seeing her with Cunningham, he became so blind with jealousy he didn’t check the mail at Crompton house. “No.” He said drily.
“My father’s house was such a mess, that I had to stay there to manage everything!” She stopped three feet from him. “I spent the nights caring for him. Nell helped. Ask her!” Her hands flew to her waist, the very goddess of war! “When he emerged from the fever, I left as fast as I could to come to the manor and wait for you.” She pointed her finger in his direction in a blunt, resolute way.
An immense relief washed over Philip. His Selene had been having a hard time, but not betraying him. Guilt followed. He almost chocked in it. And he solely thought the worse of her and accused her without hearing the facts. He was a damned hot-headed, possessive, lust-driven devil!
“What reward do I get for it?” She continued, her chin lifting higher. “Your suspicion and mindless accusation!”
Her petite figure stood like a righteous queen before him. He ought to apologise, naturally. But the sight of her was so overpowering, he wanted to gather her in his arms and never let her go. She gave him no time for that, though. She wrapped herself in her robe, opened the connection door, and left, locking it from the lady’s chamber side.
He raked his hand through his hair, desperate pacing to the connecting door. “Selene.” He called softly. No answer.
Bloody hell! What a stupid ass he was! He definitely put his foot in it this time. His indomitable goddess wouldn’t make it easy for him. Damn, damn. Damn it! He ordered some brandy and crumbled on the armchair in front of the fire in deep regret. That’s what happened when one didn’t think with the proper sensibleness! He was her husband and he must trust her above all. This is what marriage meant. Jealousy would be justified solely if the betrayal came with proof, you possessive wretch! He’d made a serious mistake here. He only wished he could mend it. Needless to say his night became a hell of guilty feelings.
Selene fell on her belly in bed, enraged tears falling on the coverlet. How could he think such a thing of her? Didn’t he know that, since she lay eyes on him, the simple idea of another man touching her was utterly repulsive? The self-conceited scoundrel! Oh, but things wouldn’t remain like this, no! Her blood boiled with rage and hurt. Action had to be taken. At once. Or he’d make a habit of that.
Early next morning, Selene rang for Nell. Together they made a bag for her. She picked her mare and left without Nell. The lady’s maid insisted in not letting her alone, but to no avail. She’d have to get away. Give herself some space. Allow him to reflect on what he did. It didn’t matter it was a decision made in the heat of the moment, of the row. In her guts, it felt right. She wouldn’t hesitate with second thoughts. Newlyweds needed to establish thriving precedents that would guide their relationship.
Selene’s mare was of a placid temperament, being this the reason she decided to ride in her condition. If this wasn’t the case, she’d not done it. She arrived safely in the woodcutter’s cottage, presently vacated, as the manor used wood cut by some of the tenants. Nevertheless, the cottage stood in good condition, even supplied with firewood. It consisted of a bedroom, with a coarse bed, a sitting room that served as kitchen, too. The rustic furniture lent an air of fairy tale to the place. The woods around bloomed with the new greenery of spring and flowers popped everywhere around the tall centenary trees.
She’d carried food and drink from the manor’s kitchen; it’d last more than a week. Keeping those in the larder under the kitchen, she took her bag to the bedroom. She’d have to take care of her mare herself. Luckily, she’d got used to doing that before she became a married lady. When she had been done, she went for a walk in the woods around. The woods always evoked in her the fairy stories she used to hear as a little girl. The nature around made her feel calmer.
“Where is she?” He almost shouted at Nell, having invaded the lady’s chamber upon hearing the duchess had left.
Scared and wide eyed, the lady’s maid let the dress she had in hand fall on the carpet in a heap. “I-I don’t know, Your Grace.” Her tiny voice trembled.
“Of course you do! Do not lie!” He paced menacingly to her. She drew back.
“N-no, Your Grace.” She swallowed dryly. “She didn’t tell me because she knew I’d tell you.” She added meekly.
“What did she take?” Philip tried to slow his temper.
“Just a bag, Your Grace.” She twisted her hands. “She couldn’t carry much on her mare.”
“Mare?” He raked his hand through his dark hair. His deliciously belligerent wife left mounting? If something happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
“I begged her not to, but she wouldn’t listen.”
Of course, she wouldn’t, the stubborn woman! Thanking the girl, he turned, leaving the room for the stable.
Philip rode for hours on end around the estate. She couldn’t have gone far on horseback. The vast estate didn’t favour swiftness though. He kept riding; he’d not give up, not until he found her. How pig-headed could he get? The worse being that he always put his foot in it when he felt jealous of her! Since they’d met. He had to cease this behaviour. It sprouted from the uncertainty about her feelings. The easiest way would be asking her! Stop fuming and start thinking, he admonished himself. A woman like her wouldn’t put up with his caveman behaviour…well…not out of bed, at least. He gave a lopsided smile at the memory of how both ignited each other. Seriously, he had to change this pattern or he’d spend half of his marriage exercising his predator’s skills. Once or twice was stimulating; it couldn’t become a habit, though.
That’s when he spotted her mare grazing near the woodcutter’s cottage. There she hid, then! He urged his stallion faster. She seemed to be well, after all. He dismounted, tied the horse and headed to the front door. And raised his hand, intending to knock.
Chapter 21
The door opened before the knock. A haughty, angry Selene came out; her vivid green eyes shooting daggers at him. She dressed a bright green dress that made her eyes even flashier. She’d heard his horse’s hooves.
“Will you forgive me?” He pleaded simply.
Slowly, she paced to two feet from him and stanched, never leaving his eyes.
“Why did you have to accuse me?” Her voice came out dry.
“Because I am a jealous bastard.” He made a helpless gesture. “And I cannot think clearly where you’re concerned.” He only wanted to cover the distance and take her in his arms.
“Don’t you know the mere notion of someone else
touching me is utterly disgusting?” Her ramrod straight petite figure continued defying him.
“It’s the same for me.” He admitted, pride be damned!
She felt glad that he thought that. “Don’t you know I love you like there is no tomorrow?” If he knew about her love, maybe he’d love her a little in return.
He stared at her, a foolish smile forming in his sensuous thin lips. “You love me?” He asked as if it would be the last thing she’d do.
“Of course I love you, you blackguard!” She ogled him from under her lashes. “Why do you think I married you?”
He didn’t contain himself anymore. He covered the distance between them, took her in his arms and spun her in the air. “Oh, Selene, love of my life!” And they twirled some more.
“You love me too.” She murmured pensively after he put her back on the ground. She looked up at him, holding his broad shoulders.
“Yes, I love you like a desperate, jealous, crazy fool!” He lowered his head, coming closer to her.
“Good. Because I intend to give you a hard time from now on!” She said mutinously.
“You’ve been giving me a…hard time since forever!” He held her closer to prove his point.
She breathed a husky smug laugh, pulling his head down for a kiss. They kissed voraciously until they had to come up for breath. He took her into the cottage, kicking the door close. He leaned her up against the door, she felt so soft, at ease in her dress. In his hunger, he tugged it down to gain access to her luscious breasts. She moaned with the caress, her head falling back. His stubbed lips grazed her skin in search for the other breast, as he pressed her further to the door, his hands hovering anxious over her.
“Selene.” He murmured on her skin.
“Hm.” Her fingers merging in his sleek dark hair.
