The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories

by Lacoste, G. G.

“I felt it.” He smiled. “Well, now you are here. Give me the bridle.” He led the pony in under the trees, and tied it up. Removing the hood of her cloak he kissed her.

  After a while he pushed her away. “You are not Camellia…who are you?” he said moving back a pace or two and drawing his sword.

  “No I am not, I am Francis, Lady Camellia’s maid and I carry a message to you from the good lady,” she said. “I ought not to stay long, the lady will not be able to come tonight so she sent me to inform you.”

  She paused. She had seen the saddle on his horse, the muffled bit. Her hands moved sharply against his chest and his own covered them and held her fast.

  “Aaah,” she said, “I knew. I knew even in my sleep last night that, you my lord lived up to your reputation.”

  “And what is that, pray let me know?” he questioned her.

  “That even at such a tender age, you were a devilish Duke who could drive any maiden mad with lust.” She said.

  “If that be so, why not you?”

  She was silent for a minute. Then all she said was: “I have very little time to spare.”

  “Long enough to make your dream come true.” The young Duke said.

  She did not pretend to misunderstand him. “We have an hour, two, no more.”

  “Long enough, then I too must be gone.” He said

  She said flatly: “You will come back.” Then as he started to speak: “No. Not now, not any more. We have said it all and now there is no more time to waste. I only meant that you take your pleasures on my body and soul, and let me cherish the feeling of sleeping with the man of my dream.”

  “Aren’t you worried that you are betraying your lady?” the Duke questioned her.

  “I know it my lord, I love my Lady but a woman in heat could do almost anything to fulfill her erotic desires.” She hinted.

  “Oh, don’t worry, there will be other times, surely I will come back here if you ever need me.”

  “I know, but you still belong to my Lady.” She said.

  “You mean Lady Camellia. The Duchess?”

  “Yes.” She said in a trembling voice.

  “But…. You know very well that she is wedded to Sir Cedric.” The young duke pointed out.

  “My Lord. I tell you, I know these things. I have the sight, but ever since his accident, Sir Cedric is nothing but a vegetable, it’s just a matter of time before she comes back to you.”

  “It hardly needs the sight to tell me that. I know she may and may not. And then perhaps she and you will listen to me….”

  “No.” She stopped him again, almost angrily. “It doesn’t matter. What does it matter? We have only an hour, and we are wasting it. Let us go in.”

  Duke Ambrose was already pulling out the jeweled pin that held the chambermaid’s cloak together, as he put an arm around her and led her towards the cave.

  “Yes, let us go in.”

  Inside the cave a torch was burning, illuminating the interior. There was a pallet on the ground where the Duke had slept. Francis, the chambermaid, was beside him. She was naked and her hair was damp from having ridden in the mist and she smelled of orange blossoms, from head to toe.

  The Duke gazed into her loving eyes and still couldn’t convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming. Finally, he decided to put her troubled mind at ease.

  “You’re very beautiful and very precious, Francis,” he said, “and I have a great fondness for you. But this is betrayal. Camellia will…..”

  “You presume too much, My Lord,” she said. “I have announced no decision of my intentions.”

  “Yes, you have,” he replied. “Not with your lips, but with your eyes and body. Perhaps you don’t want to admit it yet, but you will. Don’t fight it, Francis, and don’t be concerned about offending me. Welcome what will become of you, naturally, and welcome it.”

  She was silent, then her eyes found his and they were still troubled. He hadn’t helped a bit.

  “That is my problem,” she said. “I love you both.”

  The Duke nodded. He started to tell her about the vast difference in their social standing, about the fact that he would soon be called away on another campaign, perhaps halfway around the country, about the fact that he might never return. He decided to skip all that.

  She kissed his lips and he found his arms going around her back, caressing the soft, sweet-smelling skin. His hand went down to her gently rising buttocks and he felt the erection building magnificently at his middle. This was no dream.

  “Francis, do you know what you are doing?”

  She shushed him with a fragrant finger across his lips. “I know,” she said. “No talk. Only love.”

  All right. He had tried. He had turned away from the pleasures that this girl had offered him. He had felt noble about his intentions, about his abstinence. Well, there is a time to put all that music behind you. That time was now.

  Days of frustration and abstinence and temptation had built up a tremendous drive inside him. His erection was more than an erection. It was a budding, blossoming, flowering instrument of sex and love and lust and frustration. Francis found the hardness and enclosed it with her hand.

  There were no more thoughts about what would happen to Francis when this was over. There were no more thoughts about whether she belonged to Camellia or to him. There were no more concerns for whether she was still a virgin by the flesh or by the soul. The future had no place in his mind, or his body. The need of the flesh and the soul were so intense, so ready, for each of them that they shut out past and future and plunged helter-skelter into the present.

  The Duke started gently. She seemed to like it. He rose up and gazed at those erect, ripe breasts that had tantalized him from the very first moment he set eyes on her. He kissed the nipples, tenderly, then with more purpose. He sucked and she arched he back and raised her pubis to him.

  The young Duke laid his hardness along the mound and gently massaged until she let out a moan and bit his ear.

  “Enough gentleness, my Lord,” she said gasping, chewing on his ear. “Take me now and let me know the pleasure of losing my virginity to one I love. Oh, my Lord, love me for now, for now only.”

  When he entered her, she was ready, she climaxed almost instantly and he thought it was over. She took a few seconds of respite and then the passion grew in her to a newer and higher level. She swallowed him up, rising and falling, plunging and withdrawing. She climaxed a couple of more times before it finally happened to the Duke.

  He had been holding back, savoring it, wanting it to go on forever. …or, at least, for the next couple of hours. But nothing lasts forever. She responded by climaxing again, for the fifth time. He had always envied women that capacity, but he wouldn’t have traded that one gigantic climax for all the little ones in the world.

  Spent, sated, they lay on the pallet with a thin layer of perspiration coating their naked bodies. The maid’s arm lay across his naked chest. She was silent for such a long time that he thought she was asleep. She wasn’t.

  “You will think me strange,” she finally said, “but I did this as a gesture of farewell.”

  “Farewell?”

  “Yes. In two weeks, I will marry Sir Cedric’s personal aid and join his people. Now I must hurry, my lady will be anxiously waiting for my arrival.

  The Frustrated Duchess.

  Camellia, the Duchess, entered the east tower of the Manor House, where she spent most of her spare time, knowing perfectly well that nobody would dare to disturb her. The Manor house had been, in times past, a vast country-house belonging to some Saxon notable who had owned and farmed the land for several miles each way along the river valley. Beyond that was a thick forest and a hidden cave which very few people frequented.

  The main part of the Manor house still stood though badly scarred by time and war, and by at least one disastrous fire, which had destroyed one end of the tower and of a wing. The old slaves’ quarters were still intact round the courtyard where the serfs worked, an
d the bathhouse patched and plastered.

  The Duchess was pacing the floor, highly tensed, anxiously awaiting the arrival of her most trusted friend and chambermaid, Francis, who had undertaken the risky task of taking a message from the Duchess to her secret lover. She felt both dread and exhilaration. It would be draining noble ethics, because her secret lover wasn’t going to like what she had to tell him.

  She knew that personally the sexual tension between them was undeniable…. but she also knew she could not give in to the attraction. The morals instilled so strongly in her by her late parents, along with her own sense of guilt, ran too deep.

  Camellia had been waiting in the tower for 15 minutes when her chambermaid came in.

  “My Lady.” Her voice was welcoming, yet intense.

  She returned her smile. “Francis, it’s good to see you. It’s been too long.”

  She seated herself behind her loom, a wry grin playing around her eyes and mouth.

  “You see to that, don’t you, my Lady? Always so.” Her tone was teasing, but subtly underlined with something deeper.

  “Nonsense, Francis,” The Duchess tried to dismiss her remark. “While I admit you took a tremendous risk, I must declare that you seemed to like taking that risk. Besides I do have other matters to attend to, let alone a staff to maintain.”

  Francis smiled. “You look beautiful, as always.”

  The Duchess, flushed. Beautiful was not a word she would use to describe herself. She did not know how to respond and found she could not meet her gaze.

  Francis watched her across the loom, Duchess Camellia, did not think of herself as beautiful, she could tell, but she was. Her high cheekbones, generous mouth, and slim but feminine figure made her beautiful, and if she doubted it she had only to look into the eyes of any man who saw her for confirmation.

  Camellia remained silent. Francis knew the compliment had distressed rather than pleased her. She sighed inwardly. She had given her no real indication that she was attracted to her, and until she did she had no right to press her case. Her voice was resigned as she asked, “Have you had time to complete your study of your latest problems?”

  Camellia took a deep, relieved breath. She dreaded the day she would voice her feelings...she wasn’t sure how she’d handle it. For a minute or two, when she’d looked at her with her dark, hungry eyes, she almost met her gaze.

  She pulled the chambermaid close to her and said, “This old Manor has no miracles, Francis. But I do have some solutions that are viable, if you put them into practice.” She addressed the maid seated across the loom, “Your farm people should already have these figures and a few of this latest farming decisions, but I have written and brought them anyway. And, yes, you do have problems and I doubt you will avoid more labour trouble and bad labour action unless you start hiring more farm hands, especially women.”

  She rubbed her hand across her forehead. She suddenly looked tired. She had an enormous job for a woman not yet 20. The Manor House employed some 2,000 serfs, and staffing problems were an automatic part of such a giant Dukedom. Like most major Dukedoms Manor House had diversified into every conceivable type of farming. The diversity was staggering, and as chambermaid and the Duchess most trusted friend, Francis was responsible to see that each division was fully staffed and operative. She also had to keep the

  Manor current with all new hiring regulations, an area in which Camellia’s management had been particularly helpful.

  Francis’s voice was serious. “My Lady, you know my position on workers’ rights and equality; anything less is intolerable to me. I think you also know I fight for what I believe in.” She sighed. “But this Manor House functions under one system...Sir Cedric’s. There’s no way he’ll ever go for it.”

  Camellia shrugged her shoulders, causing the light lavender silk of her blouse to ripple sensuously. Lord Cardel, known as The Arch Duke, was the head of the Manor. And all the lesser nobles reported directly to him. He was a tyrant with an ego beyond measure. He ran the Manor as if it was a one-man show and he was that one man.

  Camellia knew Francis cared about human issues, she was a fair-minded trusted maid, but facts were facts.

  “Then if he won’t accept the name of reason, he’d better do it in the name of the serfs of the county, or in the name of humanity. Put any label on it you wish. But it has to be done. You are facing more than labor action; you are facing several rebellions and boycotts.”

  “Do you have any likely job candidates?” Francis asked.

  “Francis, I’ve had three of my personal aids working on this full time. And, yes we have found some impressive candidates.” She handed her a slip of paper. “This should give you a head start.”

  Francis thanked her. “Now all I have to do is deal with the Arch Duke.” She leaned forward to light the torch that was getting dim on the wall, frowning as she did so.

  “When are you going to give up this filthy habit of spending your time in semi darkness?”

  Camellia accepted the light and grinned. “When I can go and live on a desert island where the air I breathe isn’t pure smoke.”

  She remained leaning across the loom, looking at her, “If you could settle for a few days on that island, I could arrange for you to use the Manor villa in Cod Bay.”

  Francis restrained herself from adding how much she’d like to join her on that island, but Camellia had seen the desire in her eyes. She thought of warm, sensuous sunshine, carefree days, and balmy nights. Francis was undeniably attractive and she was becoming more vulnerable with each day her marriage floundered.

  She caught herself up short. She doused the freshly lit torch, but not before she saw the look of hope in Francis’s eyes; she knew she had almost weakened. Instantly she was in control again. “Thanks, it sounds heavenly, but I couldn’t accept.” She rose gracefully. “It’s late I’ve got to get back to the chamber.”

  “Let me help you my Lady,” Francis said rising and leading the way to the chamber where Lady Camellia’s giant sized bed was.

  Making all necessary preparations for her lady to rest for the night, she still remained standing, watching the Duchess changing to go to bed.

  The Duchess rides a Brazen Maid.

  “You still have a trim body my Lady, if I may say so.” Francis declared in awe as she watched Camellia’s naked body. “There’s not a single layer of fat in you anywhere.”

  “Oh, really?....Come Francis and give my body, which you appreciate so much, a good rub down” Camellia said reclining on the giant bed.

  In the next half hour or so, while massaging the Duchess, Francis studied the silk smooth body of her lady. She was, as usual, impressed by the thorough massage she had done. Her experienced dainty fingers worked with deft as the Duchess moaned and turned around. Involuntarily the Duchess grabbed her maid’s hands and guided them to her soft rounded breasts.

  Francis caressed her Lady’s breasts gently with utmost care until she felt Camellia’s soft breasts harden and the cherry pink nipples pouted like two ripe cherries. Impulsively Francis nipped the nipples with her fingers as Camellia moaned once more and closed her eyes.

  A certain amount of passion and desire was building up in Francis, in the process of her massage she gently cupped both her hands on Camellia’s right breast and lowered her mouth to feel the pouting nipple with her tongue.

  The Duchess grabbed the maid’s head and pressed it hard against her breast. “Oh, my God, take it Francis, suck it, enjoy it,” she moaned aloud.

  It was for this moment that Francis was waiting. Releasing the breasts for a brief moment she started to strip her own clothing.

  “Don’t take so long, Francis, come to me quickly.” The Duchess moaned in ecstasy.

  Francis started on her breasts very gently, sucking them with delight and then slowly she moved her mouth down to her belly kissing and licking her navel. From there she moved further down to the Lady’s crotch. Spreading her thighs slowly Francis started teasing the Lady’s clitoris
with her fingers.

  Spreading her thighs wider and arching her buttocks up and down Camellia let her maid probe her deeper and deeper as she experienced repeated orgasms.

  “Climb up Francis, let me feel your body too,” the Duchess invited her in a trembling erotic tone.

  Francis stretched herself on top of the Duchess, taking her breasts in her mouth once again, sucking and licking her. The Duchess moved her arms around the maid’s buttocks, grabbing her voluptuous buttocks tight she rolled over and pinned the maid down.

  With the maid pinned down she started chewing her mouth first, then moving down she sucked her breasts, her belly and then her moist clitoris.

  “Let’s do it together, my Lady,” Francis moaned getting the Duchess to switch her position so that the Duchess had her own clitoris over the maid’s mouth while she dipped her tongue deep into the maid’s clitoris. They probed each other with their tongues erotically until they experienced several orgasms. Sated with their sex act they rested in each other’s arms.

  “My God, Francis, it has been such a long time since I had a sexual encounter like this.” The Duchess declared as Francis rose from the bed and started dressing.

  “Well, what about Sir Cedric or the young Duke?” Francis asked.

  “You know very well that after his accident, Sir Cedric is a virtual vegetable, below his waist he is lifeless and as for the young Duke I have only met him a couple of times, except for a few pecks on my lips we have never gone beyond.” The Duchess sobbed softly.

  “Oh, my poor Lady,” Francis grabbed Camellia’s head and resting it against her breasts she tried to console her. “If ever you want me, tell me and I’ll be there for you.”

  “You know Francis, however much I do it with you, it’s not like doing it with a man.” Camellia said.

  It continued to amaze Francis that Camellia could have such luxuries’ and yet suffer sexually. No, Camellia wasted no time. What she wasted was her own self, a situation Francis found tragic. She had expected an aggressive female trying to get by on her sex. She had, in short, expected anything but Camellia.