And so the plan was made and the Duke gathered his belongings in clumsy preparation for the escape. Marina, who had nothing with her but the clothes she had slept in, had no choice but to travel in her rather rigid, uncomfortable and expensive clothing. Her outfit would surely be destroyed, but the Duke promised to purchase her a great deal of clothes the very second they arrived at their destination (which he had not decided on yet). With two suitcases in hand, Jasper bade goodbye to Earl and blew a kiss up the staircase, bound for the chamber of his sleeping wife. Although there was nothing sexual between the Duke and Duchess, he was certainly going to miss her company. He was fond of her and her personality. She was lively and made him laugh during every meal they shared together. And, perhaps, he still loved her. He must have loved her at one point, he was married to her, and love does not fade. However, he was in love with Marina and loved her quite a bit more than he loved the Duchess; which meant he would be going with her.
The cold of the winter morning took the Duke and Marina by surprise when they stepped outside. Although they had slept far later than they should have on that morning, it was still far earlier than either of them was usually awake and so they had not experienced such icy cold morning air in many years. The dew that covered the grass seeped through their shoes as they crossed the garden. Even the finest shoes in those days could not hold up against a slight degree of water. The damp grass turned into thick, wet dirt as they drew further to the forest. Thankfully, the manor grounds and the forest were not separated by a fence or wall. For years, the Duke had been planning on hiring some manual labourers to construct a fence between the manor and the forest as he was tired of racoons and badgers and foxes coming onto the grounds and ruining his lovely garden. Now, of course, he found himself thanking his lazy, procrastinating self for neither he nor his mistress would have to expel any energy attempting to jump over such a structure. This would have been particularly difficult for the well-dressed Marina.
Both the Duke and Marina felt as though a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders when they crossed the line of dirt, which divided the manor grounds and the forest. They were free. Finally, they had escaped the manor together, leaving behind all responsibilities and connections. From that moment, they were bound to nothing but each other. Jasper took Marina's hand tightly in his own and squeezed it as they walked. She was slightly ahead of him, her right arm dragging behind so she could still hold his hand. Watching her as she moved so elegantly through the forest, so full of hope for the future, the Duke was overwhelmed with affection. After all the young girl had been through, after having to withstand so much pain and suffering, she was still able to walk into the future and smile as she did so. Jasper respected her. He admired her. But most of all, loved her.
Back in the manor, the butler was preparing himself to clean up the mess created by the Duke. Later in the day, he would have to break the news of the man's "disappearance" to the Duchess, but before he did that, he would have to confront Franklin Peers. Earl feared for his life just as the Duke had feared for his own. Franklin Peers was clearly an unstable, unpredictable animal and it was not entirely unlikely that he would be thrown into a fit of rage upon learning of the Duke's departure and turn his gun on the butler. Reaching for the door handle, Earl reminded himself that he did not know for a fact that Franklin Peers was on the other side of the door. It probably was him, but the butler found a degree of comfort in the idea that it could be somebody else. He took a deep breath, turned the door handle and pulled back the door. To his extreme surprise, Earl did not see Franklin Peers standing on the doorstep.
"Carl Ferguson," Earl said, "what brings you here?" Earl knew Carl Ferguson quite well. He was, rather ironically, servant to Franklin Peers four out of seven days a week. Butlers talked. Carl, who regularly complained about Peers, was flustered.
"Earl, my goodness, Earl."
"Calm down, man. Whatever is the matter with you?"
"This morning I arrived at Franklin Peers' home to report for work and I found..." He did not so much pause as he did lose the ability to speak. He was in shock. "I found his body. He was lying in a pool of his own blood with a bullet through his head."
"Good lord, how did such a thing happen?"
"Mr. Peers was a terribly irresponsible man. He compulsively cleaned his gun yet never took any precautions. He has, in the past, accidentally fired it while cleaning. However, the bullets usually wound up hitting a picture frame or some other ornament. Today, I fear, he was not so lucky after accidentally firing his gun." Earl could not believe what he was hearing. What luck.
"What brings you to this manor?" he asked Carl, who would not have known anything about the duel.
"I came to break the news to his wife. It is well known that she spends a great deal of time here. Go and fetch her." Earl looked Carl dead in the eyes; he knew there was little to no chance of Marina and the Duke ever being tracked down now. Besides, even if they could be found, the butler did not want to ruin their perfect happiness.
"Carl," he began, "I am afraid you just missed her."
THE END
WARNING: This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This ebook is for sale to adults ONLY
Please ensure this ebook is stored somewhere that cannot be accessed by underage readers.
Copyright 2015 by Kirby Publishing - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Copyright 2015 by Rosamund Talbot - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Maid for Mischief
Regency Romance
By: Rosamund Talbot
Maid for Mischief
Chapter One
"That was surely one of the most disgraceful performances I have ever been witness to,” declared Hannah as she entered the parlour, followed by her husband Frederick; the Duke of Kent and Strathearn. The couple had just returned to their manor after an evening at the theatre and the Duchess was not at all pleased with the actions of Joseph Grimaldi, the great clown and star of the show.
"I found it quite entertaining" replied Frederick as he brushed the delicate drops of rain from the shoulders of his evening coat.
"But the disrespect shown by that clown, Frederick" his wife began, "imagine having royalty in the audience and not even acknowledging them."
"Well what would you have liked him to do?"
"He should have alerted the rest of the theatre-goers to our presence and taken a knee."
"Taken a knee?" asked the Duke, almost in disbelief. "My dear, the great Grimaldi is not just a clown. He is a social critic, and a reminder that nobody should take themselves too seriously. After all, even we, as royalty, are mortal."
When Frederick first met his wife nearly a decade before this conversation, she had been a sweet young girl, made generous by her humble beginnings. Her family never had a lot of money, but neither her parents nor her siblings let that stop them from enjoying life. This was why the Duke had fallen in love with her in the first place; she was almost a complete contradiction of the kind of women his bloodline had exposed to him. She was free and full of life and just a joy to be around. In the years that followed their marriage, however, Hannah began to grow too fond of the riches and adoration, which accompanied being married to be
a well-respected Duke. The bashful and carefree girl Frederick had once been so in love with was soon replaced by a snobbish, impatient woman who absorbed love and exuded a toxic sense of entitlement, which rendered her almost unrecognisable to the man who had once been so willing to pledge his life to her. With each passing day, Frederick found himself falling more and more out of love with his wife; or, more accurately, the person his wife had become.
Criticising Grimaldi was a new low. Nobody dared to criticise the beloved clown and nobody wanted to. He was beloved by everybody in the Kingdom, perhaps even more so than the King or Prince Reagent and Frederick was not at all insulted by his failure to bow. Such a gesture would have interrupted the show, which was a performance the Duke felt privileged to be a part of. Hannah, of course, did not share these feelings and had spent the entire duration of the show with the same sour expression on her face which had by now become the signature move of her facial muscles. Now, back at the manor, Hannah's face still bore that same expression and Frederick found himself resisting the urge to remind his wife that none of what she had experienced, that night or any other night in the past ten years, would have been possible had she not married him. The love of the public, which she so craved, did not belong to her; it belonged to Frederick. The praise and recognition, which she received, were merely excess positivity, which he, as one man, could not hold.
"Frederick" came the voice of his wife, interrupting the Duke's fantasy of defending Grimaldi, "enough of this bickering, it's time for bed." Frederick knew what this meant. For the past six months, bedtime entailed a brief and unimpassioned session of love making, insisted upon by Hannah. The Duchess had become intent on bearing a child for the Duke, as she mistakenly believed it would make her a more valued member of the royal family. Her desire to give birth did not come from a place of love or the usual maternal instincts, which invoke the desire in most women; she just wanted to do something, which would place her in the favour of the Prince Reagent and guarantee several days of celebration in her honour. However, Frederick and Hannah's attempts to create a child were consistently unsuccessful and lead to Hannah berating her husband on a regular basis for his failure to "fulfil his duties as a man". However, what Hannah did not know, and would not know, was that Frederick was not the problem. Unbeknownst to her, she was barren, as it would have been described at the time. Nevertheless, Hannah demanded, night after night, that her husband take her to their chamber and try once again to fill her womb with a (preferably male) child.
On this night, the crackling fire on the right wall of the chamber did little to change the icy cold atmosphere in the room. Frederick was in no mood to satisfy his wife's lust and he resented her all the more for forcing him to comply. Unenthusiastically, he stripped her of her gown and began the preliminary procedure of massaging her shoulders. This had become a dull and lifeless task and Frederick's mind began to drift as he pulled her skin away from her shoulders before pushing it back. He remembered the night of their marriage, during which nothing could have torn him from the body of his wife. It was in pristine condition and required intense worshipping before it could be entered. Her skin was soft to touch and at times felt so delicate that even the slightest point could rip through it. Of course, Frederick found this wasn't the case when he took the skin of her neck between his teeth and obeyed her commands to bite harder and harder. As he sank his teeth into her like some mythical beast ravaging a young maiden, he gently rubbed the glorious area between her legs. His left hand moved in a circular motion over the freshly shaved entrance to her womb, making her moan with pleasure and wet with desire. Frederick's right hand tugged on the auburn hair, which flowed from his the head of his wife and whispered unspeakable things into her ear. With his penis, hard as stone, pressing into the small of Hannah's back, Frederick described what he was going to do to her, not excluding a single detail, right up to the point of her orgasm. It was only a matter of time until Hannah, trembling with sexuality, was begging her husband to cease describing all of the things he would to do her and do them.
It struck Frederick how different his marriage had become in the space of just a few short years. There was no passion left. No longer did he bite his wife's neck or whisper into her ear the deepest secrets of his desires. The hands that had once pulled him to the very edge of pleasure now only served to beckon him to the bed where he was expected to get in and out with the least amount of emotion possible.
"Think of Alice" Frederick told himself in an effort to get himself sufficiently hard for the Duchess. Alice was a friend of his wife's and had been a bridesmaid at the couple's wedding. Back then, Frederick couldn't deny that she was extremely attractive, but she was not as alluring as the woman he was to marry. As far as he was concerned, Alice was the second most beautiful woman in the world. Of course, these feelings changed with time and Frederick now considered Alice to be the one undisputed beauty of the Earth. With her bountiful bosom and golden brown hair, Alice could make Frederick's mouth go dry and his knees go weak with a simple stare. In fact, she did so on a regular basis; almost anytime Hannah had to leave the house for more than an hour, Alice would come by for another bout of fiery sex with the Duke.
"Think of Alice" the Duke told himself again as the blood began to flow to his member. It continued to thicken as he envisioned the flawless behind of his mistress, bent over the bed, just waiting for the feeling of his nails dragging across it. Frederick imagined the texture of Alice's nipples in his mouth as he grew and reminded himself of all the two had done together over their year long fling until, finally, he was ready to enter the body of his awaiting wife.
"Come on, Frederick" said his wife, making no effort to appear sexual or attractive, "I won't stay this young forever."
"I should hope not,” Frederick thought as he climbed onto the bed before climbing on to his wife.
Chapter Two
The night passed, void of love and void of conception, and soon the sun shone through the shutter of the chamber of the Duke and Duchess. Frederick awoke the instant a ray of light hit his eye and rolled out of the bed without the inner-conflict most of us have between the voice inside us, which wants to stay in bed a little longer and the sensible voice, which knows things must be done. Hannah, on the other hand, would not open an eye until Rose, the maid, brought in the morning platter of sweet chocolates. This was the routine of most mornings, Frederick would be up and about and halfway through his errands by the time the Duchess broke her fast.
Two hours or so after Frederick had departed from the bedroom, the thin hand of the prematurely ageing maid clasped onto the handle of the door and pushed it down, all while balancing the large tray of chocolates in her other hand.
"Madame" Rose said as she entered the room, "the morning is upon us and it is time to awake". Hannah groaned and tossed onto her left side, like a spoiled child on a school morning.
"Your chocolates are here and awaiting your palate" added Rose, in an attempt to rouse the Duchess, who acknowledged her presence with a slightly louder groan before beginning to drag her carcass upright.
"Judging by the sun in the sky, I believe it to be a quarter past seven, Madame,” mentioned Rose. The ability to tell the time of day based on the position of the sun in the sky was a talent Rose had inherited from her father, of which she was fiercely proud. Unfortunately for the maid, she was nowhere near as talented as her father and had never once accurately indicated the time. In fact, she was rarely ever even within the correct hour. The actual time at that moment was half past eight, though it did not have any real bearing on the life of the Duchess. There was nothing that she needed to be on time for and therefore she could, and would, spend the rest of the day believing herself to be an early riser.
"Have you prepared my clothes for the day?" Hannah asked as she reached for the first of twenty high-priced chocolates, which were carefully laid out in four rows of five on the silver platter before her.
"Yes Madame, they are waiting for you behind the
dressing screen in the lavatory."
"Why is the dressing screen in the lavatory?" demanded Hannah, seemingly disgusted that the maid expected her to prepare for the day in such an environment.
"Well you said you wanted it to be removed from the bedroom every night" replied Rose nervously.
"Yes, that is true; but I would like it returned to my chamber before I awake in the morning. It is exceedingly difficult to sleep with that thing in the room."
"Yes Madame, it is" agreed the maid before promising to see the dressing screen would be there to greet her upon her rise the following morning. Hannah continued to eat her morning chocolates throughout the conversation with the maid. Though it may be considered rather unladylike to eat such a food for breakfast, the Duchess made sure to eat them in a way that reflected her sophisticated personality. She would eat each small piece of chocolate in two bites and would never take the second bite before her mouth was empty of every trace of the first bite.
Once she had ever so carefully devoured her breakfast chocolates, Hannah took herself from her bed to the lavatory to prepare for the day. Her afternoon was free of obligations and so she had planned to pay a surprise visit to her sister, with whom she maintained a varying degree of contact despite the fact they lived not one half hour removed from each other. The sister of the Duchess had inherited the home of her parents following the death of her widower father and had also been left virtually everything that remained in the house. Upon Hannah's marriage to Frederick, the father of the two women made sure to edit his last will and testament in order to ensure the poorer of his daughters received the greater share of his possessions. Though she had no financial troubles and had more than enough jewels for her lifetime, Hannah was not pleased to learn of the lack of her name on her father's will and so secretly harboured a deep resentment for her sister. This resentment stewed within the Duchess all year round, although it would occasionally go into remission and she would find herself longing for the company of her younger sister. Today was one of those days and so once she had dressed herself in her finest cloth and decorated herself in her most valued gold, Hannah left her manor and took a carriage to see her dear sister.
The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories Page 13
