The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories

by Lacoste, G. G.

  As the hand of the Duke prepared for another journey to the wealthy head, Edward was snapped out of his semi-drunken haze by the sound of the manor door being opened once again, followed by the tiny patter of a woman's feet echoing throughout the hallway.

  "Katy" he thought as he shot to his feet, "she must have changed her mind." Not wanting to appear too eager - the knowledge that the Duke enjoyed her company would give Katy unwavering leverage - Edward made a conscious effort to appear uninterested and nonchalant as he left the dining room.

  "Who is it?" he asked in his best boring voice. However, the Duke had never been such a great actor and as such he was unable to hide his disappointment when he saw not Katy, but Marie standing before him. She was just at the end of the hallway and about to return to the kitchen when the sound of Edward's voice caused her to turn around.

  "What are you doing back here?" Edward demanded, thrown into another rage, which was a combination of his disappointment upon not seeing Katy and the reminder of what had transpired earlier that day in his own kitchen.

  "I just came back to get my belongings" the former-maid told her former-employer, her eyes still red from crying. She had been banished from the manor so abruptly that she had been left without a moment to retrieve her black leather case from the cabinet in which she placed it every morning upon arriving at work.

  Edward, trying again to control his anger, did not reply to the young girl. Truthfully, he felt a tinge of remorse for firing her when he fired his driver. He remembered once hearing the tale of her difficult life at home and how she was the only person who could earn a living in her family. Marie took the Duke's silence as a failure to forbid her from entering the kitchen and so re-embarked on her trip to rescue her forgotten possessions. The Duke, meanwhile, remained rooted in his spot in the hallway. It occurred to him that he could make any feeling of guilt he was experiencing disappear by simply rehiring Marie as the maid of the manor; then again, doing so could lead to him being perceived as weak or a pushover. He wanted to restore Marie's position in the home, but not as much as he wanted to be respected by his employees. Moments later, the young woman returned from the kitchen with that old leather case in hand. The briefcase's existence had been anything but brief; throughout its many years it had seen many owners and had previously belonged to Marie's late father. In an attempt to honour his memory, the half-orphan always did her best to take care of the case which had been left to her, but it was still tattered and still torn and the leather coating was still peeling off in scraps to reveal the still discoloured material beneath.

  "I am sorry to have returned" Marie said as she tried to hurry past the Duke, "but this case belonged to my father and I just couldn't bear the thought of leaving it behind." She paused for a moment in anticipation of Edward's reply, but no words came from his mouth. He remained standing before her with crossed arms and eyes that first appeared to be full of rage but on closer inspection revealed themselves to be full of a deep-rooted and inexplicable sadness. "Well, I shall be on my way now" Marie said once she finally accepted she was to have no final goodbye with the Duke and Duchess she had spent the past five years of her life working for. Timidly, she slid her tiny frame past Edward, who stepped to the side in order to allow her to pass him without incident. The patter of her feet came echoing once again as she drew closer to the door, which would free her from the manor for the last time.

  "Stay" the Duke said suddenly. The young woman pulled her small hand from the door and turned to face him, hopeful he had experienced a change of heart and replied "Yes, sir?" as if she were still his servant.

  "Tell me about your father."

  "Pardon me, sir?"

  "Tell me about your father."

  Edward could see that Marie was slightly bewildered by his command and he couldn't blame her. He had failed to ever express a true interest in the lives of any of his employees but this time, perhaps due to the high level of alcohol in his bloodstream, it was different. The Duke wanted to hear about Marie's life before she came to work in his manor, he wanted to know what had caused the death of her father and he wanted to hear about whatever strange disease which was about to claim the life of her mother.

  "My... My father was a good man" began Marie, a little wary of the man who had been caterwauling at her not one hour before.

  "What was his name?" asked the intrigued member of the royal family.

  "Sam."

  "Just Sam?"

  "Well, his full name was Samuel; but everybody called him Sam."

  "I see, and what did he do to earn his living?"

  "He did a lot of things. He was assistant to a blacksmith; he used to work as a clerk in an insurance office; I believe he even worked as a debt collector for a time." Marie went on to list a great deal of jobs that her father had performed at one time or another. Though he had always sought to work by legal means, there was a time when providing for his family became so difficult that Marie's father briefly considered embarking on a career as a highway man; however, he proved too honest and noble a human being to engage in such a bloodthirsty activity.

  The sheer volume of jobs that Marie’s father had fulfilled before his untimely death impressed Edward.

  "And tell me," began the Duke, trying to enquire as to the cause of Sam's death in the most delicate manner possible, "what was it that took your father from this world?" Marie shuddered and turned from the Duke to face the door, for as much as she enjoyed talking about her father's life, he hated to discuss his death. However, she was a sensible girl and knew that if she wanted to return to her job at the manor, it would be unwise to refuse the Duke any knowledge of her life.

  "I don't wish to intrude,” he added upon seeing her reaction to his question, "I just feel it is appropriate for me to be aware of the events which brought you into my employment." With her head pressed against the door and tears forming in her eyes, Marie did her best to be brave (just as her mother had thought her) and reveal just what had caused the passing of her dear father.

  "When I was eighteen," she began, "my father held two jobs; one as the carriage driver for a wealthy entertainer and one as a clerk at the Bank of England. One evening, as he drove the entertainer home after a successful performance at the theatre, the carriage was stopped by a highwayman who demanded my father and the entertainer empty their pockets and turn all of their possessions over to him. The entertainer, like all entertainers, was stubborn and refused to be bested by the highwayman and so the thief shot him through the heart with the pistol he kept by his side. My father was fearful of his life and mindful of his wife and two children who depended on him, so he brought the whip cracking down on the back of the horse and shot off in such a hurry that the highwayman did not even realise he was gone until it was too late. The following morning, safe and sound, my father arrived at the Bank of England to begin his second job. While he did not enjoy his job as the driver of a carriage, my father was quite passionate about his job at the bank; it gave him a sense of purpose and allowed him to perform a duty, which would benefit the residence of the country he loved. However, on this morning he became so engrossed in his work that he failed to notice a man carrying a pistol enter the bank and approach his desk. The man had originally planned to demand money from the safe of the bank and go on his way, but that was before he recognised the wrinkled face of my father. You see, the bank robber was the same man who had murdered the entertainer the previous night and had remembered the face of father, swearing to himself that he would kill him if he ever encountered him again. Before my father even had the chance to talk sense into the criminal, he raised his gun and..."

  Marie began to sob silently to herself when she reached this part of the story. There was less than a sentence left to be told but she doubted she could make it that far. That didn't matter, the young girl did not need to finish the story; the Duke knew what the gunman had proceeded to do and could understand the tears which fell from Marie's eyes despite her attempts to contain them.
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br />   "I am sorry, sir" she said through her tears, "but I do not think I can bring myself to finish this story." Now the guilt Edward had been feeling for firing the young woman was replaced by a feeling of guilt for making her relay to him the events that led up to her father's death. He had not imagined it would be such a terrible story; at the very most, the Duke had braced himself for a tale of suicide.

  "No Marie, I am the one who must apologise,” said Edward as he approached the door that the maid was leaning against, her face pointing towards the ground. He placed his firm hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around so he could look her in the water-covered eyes. Though his forefinger bore a degree of dry and rugged skin, it felt soft against Marie's face as he used it to brush away a tear that was trickling to her cheek.

  The maid, still crying for her lost father, rested her head against Edward's shoulder and clutched the back of his shirt tightly with her left hand. He wrapped his strong, cotton covered arms around her and stroked her back. There was nothing sexual about the way he loosely guided his fingers up and down her spine, it was simply a pleasant act, which would comfort the girl and help her compose herself. However, when Marie turned her wetted face from his shoulder into his deck, the Duke could not help but feel there was something greater still to come. The feeling of her eyelashes brushing against his neck as it was engulfed by the warm breath that poured from her mouth made Edward's the hand - the one which had been stroking the woman's back - ball into a fist. His heart began to beat at that pace we all experience when wondering anticipating a kiss with someone we are attracted to. The Duke had never been attracted to Marie in the past, but that was because he had never viewed her as a viable candidate for his love. Of course, now that she had already succeeded in turning him on, Edward could see that the maid who had served him for the past five years was actually an extremely attractive young woman. With her flowing blonde hair sprawled over his shoulders and the icy tip of her nose pressed into his neck, the lord of the manor did not know if he would be able to control himself much longer.

  It was at this moment that Marie began to raise her head to look at the Duke. She wanted to be able to look him in the eyes and apologise for engaging in the act of slandering his name along with Maxwell; he was being so good to her in her time of discontent that anything less than a completely earnest apology seemed ungrateful. With her head lifted from his shoulder, Marie locked eyes with her employer and, almost immediately, all thoughts and intentions in her mind escaped and made their getaway to the pit of her stomach, where they cleverly disguised themselves as butterflies. The Duke had deep, soulful brown eyes, which had clearly seen a lot of trouble. Members of the royal family had long been rumoured to harbour dark secrets regarding the inner-workings of the country and the history of the bloodline; but no matter how hard anybody tries to hide what they know, the troubling facts will always manifest themselves in the subject's eyes. Marie could tell pained eyes when she saw them. After all, she encountered a pair everyday of her life: in the shine of a recently washed floor; in the tint of a glass, in every mirror she ever looked in. Now, however, it seemed that her weary eyes had finally found their perfect match. Without fully realising what she was doing, Marie titled her head ever so slightly back, and without fully realising what he was doing, Edward lowered his head ever so slightly down. The pair of Duke and maid continued to draw closer to each other until, finally, their forlorn lips met.

  Chapter Three

  The kiss quickly turned from a soft, ill-advised meeting of lips to a sexually charged embrace and soon both Edward and Marie found themselves powerfully slamming against the walls of the hallway as they allowed common sense to be replaced by the uncontrollable desire which consumed them both. Marie came to rest against the large marble beams of the staircase. She was out of breath and in love. Her body was alive with lust and her hands trembled as she thought about all the things she wanted the Duke to do to her. Wishing to be close to his body once again, the maid stepped away from the staircase but was quickly pushed back by Edward who grabbed the back of her hair as he approached her. He pushed her lips closer to his while pushing her light body away from him, pushing it further and further until it her back was firmly against the staircase of the manor. Marie followed the actions of her commander and placed her hand behind his head before pushing his lips closer to hers, despite the fact they were already forming a tight seal together. Being so close to Marie, Edward's diligent nostrils could not help but pick up on the smell of dust and ash, which emanated from her uniform. However, beneath the unpleasing smell, there was quite a pleasant aroma. It was the perfume of the young girl and it smelled of strawberries and daffodils. The smell of the perfume combined with Marie's naturally sweet scent undid any damage to his perception of the maid that the stench of her uniform may have caused.

  "Take that off" said the Duke as he tore himself away from the arms of Marie, "I want to see you naked."

  "Yes, sir" she replied and she raised her right foot so she could unfasten the strap on her shoe. Edward watched on in anticipation, he could feel himself getting harder as Marie tossed her shoes aside and began to remove her stockings. She did this slowly, sensually. She knew the Duke was watching her and she wanted to give him a show; she had heard the stories and was aware that he liked his women to be elegant. Once she pulled her stockings from both legs, Marie slowly ran both hands up her right leg. There was something about touching her own smooth legs that sent a shiver down her spine and made her all the more eager for a man to take her delicate body and make her, his own. Her left hand dropped to her side as she reached the top of her leg, but she allowed her right hand to travel a little bit further and linger between her legs for just the right amount of time. Seeing the maid touch herself like that made Edward even harder and he could not resist joining in on the self-pleasuring. He unbuttoned his outrageously expensive trousers and took himself in his hands. Marie also busied herself in the task of unbuttoning as she undid the six buttons, which sealed her body from the world.

  Edward ceased massaging his penis when he saw Marie's uniform crack open. He could not quite believe his eyes when he saw that beneath the black cloth of her work clothes, she was totally naked.

  "Do you always work like that?" he asked, swallowing mid-sentence to dispose of the lump in his throat.

  "Only during warmer months'" Marie replied with a smirk, "sometimes, if nobody is home, I like to work completely naked." With this, the youthful seductress slid her arms from the maid's uniform and allowed it to drop to the ground with a gentle thud, the kind made by clothes with heavy, metal buttons. If the Duke had not already been rendered speechless by what he had just heard, the sight of Marie's naked body would have taken away every syllable in his vocabulary. She just seemed so perfectly formed that he could not find a suitable adjective to describe her. Her skin was snow white, with the exception of the red patch on her neck, which had been left by Edward's teeth. Her breasts were not particularly large, but they were firm and well rounded and fit perfectly within the outline of her body. The wide-eyes of the Duke travelled from Marie's breasts to the perfect curves, which served as pillars to her already moist vagina. He looked on, excited and anxious, as the maid brought the dainty fingers of her hand to that most precious spot between her legs and began to slowly rub it. With her free hand, she clutched the banister as she gyrated her body against the staircase. "Come take me now" she urged the Duke.

  Edward had somehow managed to remain clothed throughout this whole ordeal and so he very quickly slipped his feet from his shoes and stepped out of his already-unfastened trousers. Having been anticipating a sexual encounter with Katy that morning, he too had not donned any undergarments at the beginning of the day and so as soon as he removed his pants, his throbbing manhood was visible, though it was partly covered by his un-tucked cotton shirt. Of course, it did not remain obstructed for long as Edward wasted little time in tearing the shirt from his body as a soldier tears a bandage from a heale
d wound. The second Edward was out of his inhibiting clothes, Marie launched herself from the staircase to his body, her momentum carrying both her and her lover to the parallel wall. Their lips met once again, somehow even more intense than before.

  With one hand firmly grasping the bare buttocks of his maid and lover, Edward snatched a handful of Marie's hair and pulled her head back. Though she was now facing the ceiling and unable to see what was going on, the young woman quivered when she felt the wetness of the Duke's warm tongue on her neck. It moved up and down the space between her sternum and her jaw, making her skin glisten with saliva. Slowly, Marie felt Edward's tongue leave her neck and retreat back into his mouth. She was a little disappointed to no longer feel the warm yet cooling sensation of his spit being spread over her neck, perhaps even a little nervous that the Duke had stopped because he realised their encounter was inappropriate. However, all these nerves and apprehensions were put to rest when Marie felt Edward's mouth return to her neck, more forcibly this time, and his sharp, white teeth dig into her flesh. Though she was not exactly a "pure" woman, Marie had never been with a lover as intense and as animalistic as the one she was with at that moment. His teeth sank deeper and deeper into her skin, turning the echoing hallway into a concert hall for her symphony of moans.