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The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories

Page 89

by Lacoste, G. G.


  "Jane,

  I will be coming by your chamber at midnight to discuss the situation. Please do not do anything you cannot undo."

  It is ever so close to midnight as I write this and I am anxiously awaiting the Duke's arrival. While I am firm in my decision to tell the Duchess the truth, there is a small part of me who hopes the Duke and I can rekindle our affair. I know it is ill advised, but I feel as though I love him. Does that mean I do, in fact, love him? Perhaps. I hear knocking at my chamber door. It is surely the Duke. I must go.

  Will write soon,

  Jane.

  Publisher -

  This was the final entry Jane would make in her diary. After this night on February 19th, 1816, Jane Nolan was never seen or heard from again. It is unknown what happened to her, as is the identity of the person who was knocking on her chamber door, though common sense does lead one to the assumption that it was the Duke or an employee of the Duke set on removing the young maid from the world. What we do know for sure, however, is that on the first of March, 1816, another young woman joined the staff at the manor as Jane's replacement. She vanished without a trace three months later.

  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 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.

  Duke by Mistake

  Regency Romance

  By: Rosamund Talbot

  Duke by Mistake

  Chapter 1

  The year 1816 had been a tempestuous one for Kenneth Crawley, the son of a beloved but insolent Duke. It was at the beginning of this year that he turned twenty years of age and was almost instantly faced with a barrage of adult situations and mature challenges to overcome. Firstly, in January of that year - less than a week after celebrating his birthday - he was forced into marriage with an attractive but capricious young woman by the name of Anne Mayors. The wedding came at the behest of the young lady's father, who was so appalled to learn his that daughter had been impregnated by Kenneth outside of wedlock that he briefly considered taking a gun to the young man's house and putting a bullet through his heart. Ultimately, however, Mr. Mayors decided to put Kenneth's heart to better use. Enraged as he was, the elder Mayors was a sensible individual and knew it would be better for his child and grandchild if Kenneth was around to provide for them and so a wedding was arranged before news of the unplanned pregnancy could spread throughout London. Despite the underlining misery which comes along with forcible wedlock, the wedding was a joyous occasion and members of both families made sure to interact with each other and make merry while consuming quite a bit more alcohol than they could handle. Even Kenneth and his new bride derived some sort of enjoyment from the affair and when the words "I love you" passed the young man's lips, they weren't entirely false.

  As January turned into February and brightly coloured leaves began to decorate the previously bare trees, Kenneth Crawley began to settle into married life. It certainly wasn't the wedded bliss he had heard of as a child, but there was something about the modest, rustic ring on his finger, which gave him a great sense of pride. It was a symbol of his status as a provider for his young wife and impending infant. Besides, he could have been forced to marry far worse women than Anne Mayors. Kenneth's satisfaction wouldn't last long however, and it was during an unusually warm spring evening that news of a devastating development was delivered to him; his mother had passed away. Kenneth had always been very close to his mother and her passing nearly caused him to suffer a complete and total breakdown. Fortunately, the grieving son had his wife by his side to comfort him and help him cope with the loss. It was during this time of mourning that a legitimate relationship began to develop between Kenneth and Anne. Her companionship in the weeks and months following that most unpleasant February served to renew Kenneth's sense of hope for the future. Kenneth's father, however, did not have his wife to help him adapt to the loss; after all, it was his wife who had departed. The ageing widower just could not get used to waking up alone every morning. The silence of his once bustling house served as a constant reminder of how empty his days had become, and it was in August 1816 - six months following the death of his beloved wife - that Kenneth's father blew out all the lamps in his house and took his own life.

  The loss of one parent is bad enough but, as Kenneth discovered, losing both parents in the space of six months was nearly too much to withstand. Once again, the only thing that prevented the young man from withdrawing into a world of eternal darkness was the support of his loving wife. By the time his father's passing occurred, Kenneth and Anne had grown rather fond of each other. The expectant father loved coming home to his wife each day and sometimes he was so in love that it seemed like there was nothing the soft touch of her hand couldn't heal; that included the depressing thought that neither of his parents would ever get to hold their grandchild.

  Though the loss of his father came as another devastating blow (albeit not quite as surprising), Kenneth did manage to find a small ray of positivity in the departure. The young man, at just twenty years of age, now held the prestigious position of a Duke and his wife the position of Duchess. He wasn't exactly sure what this meant and he wasn't positive where he stood in regards to the throne (especially during such a bizarre time for the monarchy); but what Kenneth did know was that the position and acclaim could not have come at a better time.

  "Oh, just think of all we can do now that we're royals" Anne would say multiple times a day. For several weeks, she did not bring up the topic of money or ranking out of respect for her husband's loss, but once she felt enough time had passed for them to talk about the inheritance she found it difficult to discuss anything else. "We can have a goose for the baby's first Christmas." Kenneth did not like to consider himself a royal. While he was technically in the bloodline, he had no relationship with the King or Prince Regent. In fact, he doubted either of those men knew he existed. If they did, they certainly didn't make it known during his period of mourning.

  While some renovations were being made to the medium sized estate which Kenneth and Anne were due to move into by 1818, the young couple took a nice temporary house on the centre of London for their home. The thought of a life in a house as close to a palace as one could get, excited Anne so much that she did not care to talk about anything else, even after the mid-wife had been called. The soon-to-be mother lay on her straw mattress, tightly clutching the hand of her husband, and gleefully outlined her plans for parties and elaborate banquets, which she would throw as soon as their new house was complete. The sound of Anne's incessant planning for the future continued for some time until she was interrupted by the sound of a baby crying.

  "It's a girl,” declared the mid-wife before holding the baby up for the new parents to see.

  "A girl" thought Kenneth as his heart filled with admiration for his wife and child, "how absolutely perfect."

  Yes, the year of 1816 had indeed been a tempestuous one, but the birth of Kenneth's first child made up for all he had lost during those bleak months.

  The young man took his newborn daughter in his arms and rocked her back and forth as he looked out the bedroom window to the dew covered grass of his overgrown garden. His eyes filled not only with tears, but also with an unrelenting determination to provide for his family. 1816 had made him a man and 1817 was going to be his year.

  Chapter 2

  Kenneth, unlike many married men of his time, did no
t keep a mistress. He was a dedicated family man and he was perfectly content in his marriage with Anne. The birth of Daisy - which is what they named their daughter - had little to no affect on their sex life. The baby would usually be fast asleep by sundown, leaving the young couple plenty of time to fulfil their carnal urges. How enjoyable were those cold winter nights in January 1817! Kenneth would watch from the fireside as his elegantly dressed wife elegantly undressed, revealing to him the full extent of her beauty. With her soft, delicate skin illuminated by the glow of the flame, Anne would turn her pale back to Kenneth and anxiously await the moment that her husband would come up behind her and cup her breasts in his hands. Anne loved the feel of her husband's powerful hands on her breasts, massaging them and pinching her hardening nipples. Sometimes, he would make Anne moan with pleasure by simply running his tongue down her spine; the sensation of his warm saliva on her skin made Anne's knees weak with delight. If Anne were not sent to her knees by a wave of sexual excitement, the gentle push of Kenneth's hand on her head would let her know it was time to kneel. She didn't mind taking orders such as th0se from Kenneth. The idea of being someone's slave only served to arouse the young lady further. Within seconds of kneeling before her husband, Anne would be making him moan just as he had done when he gently licked her twitching back. Kenneth's heart would beat faster and faster as he felt his wife's tongue slide over the tip of his penis, her expert hands pulling his person at just the right pace until finally he could stand it no longer.

  Clearly, Kenneth had no need for a mistress. The same, however, could not be said for his wife. Anne loved the man to whom she was married but he just could not fulfil her. He could turn her on and make her shake with excitement, but he would always climax long before her; often times he would even fall asleep by the fireside, leaving the young woman to satisfy herself. On those nights, Anne would quietly put her clothes back on before grabbing a cloak and slipping out the door into the cold and indifferent night. The streets of London are rarely a safe place for a lone woman to walk and the dark of the night did not make them any less dangerous. Despite the obvious threats, Anne was never frightened. She had made this journey many times before. It would take her a little over ten minutes to get to the house of Mary Mine.

  Mary Mine was a young woman who poverty had turned into a "lady of the night". She was notorious in London, not just for her occupation, but also for the alleged lesbianism, which she gladly participated in free of charge. The London rumour-mill spoke of a score of different female lovers who would come and go from the small house of Mary Mine, but in reality, the young woman only had one female lover; Anne Mayors. Mary and Anne had been friends from a young age and had begun experimenting with each other sexually at the age of sixteen. Both girls had lost their virginity to each other and it was not until Mary found herself in financial crisis that she spent a night with a man. Anne's first foray into heterosexuality came on that fateful night with Kenneth, during which he made her pregnant. Once learning of her pregnancy and the marriage, which her father demanded, Anne swore to herself that her days (or more accurately, nights) spent with women were over. She wanted to be a loving mother and a loyal wife and did not feel she could do that while continuing her secret affair with Mary Mine. For all nine months of her pregnancy, Anne managed to stay true to her promise and avoided Mary at all costs. However, once her baby was born and she returned to making love on a regular basis, the new mother found that Kenneth was not quite as good in bed as she had remembered him being. No matter how much she had grown to love her husband, Anne was an extremely sexual being and could not spend the rest of her life without experiencing another orgasm; and so she turned to Mary.

  For several months, Anne managed to keep her affair with Mary hidden from her husband. She would visit her secret lover only at night, long after her baby and Kenneth had fallen asleep. However, the month of February in 1817 marked the first anniversary of the death of Kenneth's mother and brought with it many sleepless nights for the orphaned son. In the lead up to his mother's anniversary, Kenneth reverted back to a grief stricken state and found himself waking up several times a night; sometimes he would be covered in sweat, once or twice he even had difficulty breathing. On one particular night, after his wife had escaped the confines of their marital bed, Kenneth was jolted awake following an unpleasant dream. It was one of those dreams, which absolutely terrify the subject as they, sleep, but was completely absent from their memory once they returned to the waking world. Kenneth sat up in the bed as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and briefly scanned the room for any hint of disruption or disturbance but failed to find anything amiss. The curtains rested undisturbed against the locked window, the bedroom door was shut tightly and his daughter was still sleeping soundly in her cot at the foot of the bed. Satisfied that everything was as it was supposed to be, Kenneth returned his head to his pillow and turned to face his wife. Whenever he was awoken by a frightful dream or unruly sound, the feeling of his arm wrapped around the beacon of heat that was his wife's body served to send him into a deep and peaceful slumber.

  On this night, however, Kenneth found no such beacon of heat waiting for him. The side of the bed, which usually contained Anne's sleeping body, was completely empty. At first, the sight of the cold space and un-creased mattress confused Kenneth. He was used to his wife always lying next to him and his mind raced as he searched for the appropriate reaction to the situation. At first, he considered the possibility that his wife had gone to brush her hair or perhaps she needed to make a bowel movement. No, both of those things seemed unlikely. There was no sense in brushing one's hair in the middle of the night and Anne was really more of a morning person as far as the latter was concerned. Worried for the wellbeing of his wife but still unsure of what to do, Kenneth left his bed and began to search through the house for the woman who wore his ring. The investigation, lit by a single candle, led Kenneth to the conclusion that his wife was no longer in their house. He also noticed that her long cloak had been removed from its spot on the stand at the front of the door, indicating that wherever she had gone, she had gone wilfully.

  Minutes after he discovered his wife's jacket was missing, Kenneth was standing on his neighbour's doorstep, holding his baby in one arm and using the other to knock loudly and repeatedly on the front door. The woman who lived in the house was an old spinster whom Anne would occasionally spend an afternoon with out of pity and an inexplicable sense of loyalty to the elderly. It was not out of the realm of possibility that Anne had decided to pay a visit to the ageing lady on that cold night; perhaps she had heard a ruckus and thought it necessary to check up on her neighbour.

  For several minutes, Kenneth's knocking failed to garner any response from the woman inside the house. However, the crying of little Daisy (who was not pleased to be awoken from her sleep) did manage to wake the sleeping spinster. Kenneth ceased his knocking once he heard the sound of elderly feet dragging towards the door. The woman spent several minutes fumbling unsuccessfully with the locks before a stroke of pure luck lead to her turning the right nob at the right time in order to open the door.

  "Ms’ Tricks" smiled Kenneth as he greeted the elderly homeowner.

  "Kenneth?" she asked groggily, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  "Yes, it's me, Ms’ Tricks. I just came by to see if my wife is here."

  "Why would your wife be here at this hour?"

  Kenneth stumbled over his words as he tried to respond. He wasn't sure why his wife would be at an old spinster's house in the middle of the night; frankly, he had been hoping the old spinster would be able to answer that for him.

  "I just thought I would check,” explained Kenneth, "you see I woke up and she was gone from our bed."

  "Oh, you had better find that woman soon, my boy,” warned Ms’ Tricks. She had been a great beauty in her day and she knew first hand how dangerous the streets of London could be for an unescorted young girl as pretty as Anne.

  "I know where you s
hould look,” she added suddenly, remembering a conversation she had with Anne during her last visit. "That wife of yours told me once that she is a good friend of young Mary Mine, maybe she went to see her."

  "Mary Mine?" thought Kenneth. Anne had never mentioned any friendship with that woman before. If she had, Kenneth would have demanded she put a stop to it immediately; he did not want his wife to be associated with such and immoral and sinful woman. A large part of Kenneth wanted to believe that his wife had made the journey to Mine's house just to inform the woman of what a shameful existence she was living; then again, it didn't really seem necessary as Mary Mine had enough people telling her that every time she walked down the street. Then Kenneth was struck with a horrible thought; what if Mary Mine and his wife were business partners? What if the birth of Daisy had put more financial strain on his family than he thought and Anne had been forced to take to the streets just to earn some extra money? If that were the case, Kenneth doubted he would ever be able to look at his wife again. His infant daughter must have sensed her father's discomfort, as it wasn't long after he had these thoughts that Daisy began to cry once again.

 

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