Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  “Samuel, you coward,” said the Duke, recognising the man. “You have done well to save your life. However, you have forgone your honour.” He turned to the men behind him, “One of you stay behind to watch over him.”

  “The Earl be alone, Duke,” muttered Samuel, looking at the floor, “he be alone in his parlour with that wench and that servant of yours.” He then looked up and sneered at the Duke, “Why not you go alone, eh Duke? Settle this like gentlemen?”

  The Duke looked at Samuel and then his loyal men around him, deep in thought. “Don’t listen to him, My Lord,” said James, “the man is surely lying. It must be a trap.”

  “I see no falsehood in his eyes, James,” said the Duke, “he speaks correctly. You men stay here; I’ll handle this.”

  The man tried to protest, but the Duke held up one hand to silence him. He then walked towards the doors of the parlour at the end of the hall. He waited outside for a moment, listening intently through the thick wooden doors. Hearing nothing, he gently pushed open the doors and slipped inside. The room was dimly lit. His eyes first fell to Tobias, his trusted friend and advisor, who lay at his feet, barely conscious, and then to his beloved Abigail, who knelt by the fireplace, looking at him with her eyes brimming with tears. His heart broke and then filled with rage.

  “Horace!” he exclaimed, “how dare you commit such atrocities?” The Earl suddenly appeared in his line of vision, standing a bit to the side, holding a pistol pointing straight at his chest.

  “Lord Edmund Arundell, is it,” he sneered, “tragedy, dying at such an early age. Leaving behind no progeny or successor. What will become of Northumberland? Perhaps I shall take control of the mines. How delightful is that possibility?”

  “You sound addled, Horace. You dare not threaten me,” replied the Duke confidently, “I have not come alone. The men with me will arrest you, and you will have to face the Crown’s justice if they do not decide to wet your carpet with your own blood right here. I am taking my friend and my beloved; back down this instant, Horace, and the consequences might not be so severe.”

  With that the Duke moved towards Abigail, his hands outstretched. “Stop!’ screamed the Earl, “I challenge ye to a duel, Edmund. Settle this like a man with a knight’s blood.”

  The Duke helped Abigail to her feet and held her against his chest as he said in a dignified tone, “I decline your challenge, Horace. I do not wish to duel with an invalid. Back down, and you may be allowed to keep some of your holdings.”

  “I am fine, My Lord,” whispered Abigail into the Duke’s chest as the Earl went red with rage and embarrassment, “I fear Mr Tobias requires your attention.”

  She gently urged the Duke towards the barely stirring body of Tobias Harding, and as he walked towards him, the Earl, overcome with anger and madness, suddenly turned the barrel of his weapon towards Abigail, “If I can’t possess her, neither can you,” he raged.

  Abigail let out a shrill scream as she heard a loud gunshot echo from the bare walls. The sound left her dazed as she looked around for the origin and target of the shot. Another loud thud seized her attention as the Earl suddenly fell to his knees while the Duke lowered a smoking gun.

  Chapter 20

  Abigail had stood there watching the entire scene in horror. She hated to have been the cause of trouble and distress to the Duke and felt herself presently immersed in overwhelming guilt at having caused the confrontation. As the lifeless body of the once-great Earl collapsed to the floor, she stood there motionless. Her perplexity had affected her vision so much that she could see the Duke approach her but could make out very little besides his form. As he drew closer, she felt herself inadvertently fling on him, weeping desperately.

  “Calm yourself now; it was all but necessary. We must return to our lodgings.”

  He then turned towards the door and called for James who immediately entered. “James, look to the matters here. Have Tobias’ wounds nursed. Write to the magistrate and inform them of the circumstances, and write to Lord Harold Blakemore, the Earl’s brother and next in line. He shall be buried with the ceremony that an Earl is worthy of.”

  Abigail was swiftly led to the carriage with her hand clasped closely by the Duke. Once they were seated and their journey commenced, the Duke turned to Abigail whose miserable condition was evident in the tears that streamed ceaselessly down her cheeks.

  “Now, now my dear. I understand how distraught you must be. Circumstances have been harsh, and your melancholy is justified.”

  “No, My Lord. No reason can justify my lack of sensibility and the undeserved pains I have caused you. How unfortunate and wretched am I to have wronged the one who has loved me so greatly, without condition or warrant.”

  “Ills of the past are best buried under the sands of time. If the past is allowed to live on, it will threaten to spoil the pleasantries of the present. Let us put our grievances behind us and walk towards a future where we are united in love, merriment, and matrimony. If you accept the humble offering of my love, it would be your kind bestowment and my blessed fortune.”

  “It is the fortune of none but mine, My Lord, and it is with great gratitude that I consent.”

  “Heaven’s blessings and mercy upon us.” The Duke sighed heavily, his eyes gleaming as he drew Abigail into an embrace.

  As Abigail’s heavy eyelids blinked to consciousness again, they had already entered the stone pathway that she instantly recognised to belong to Northumberland Castle. She finally felt herself unwind after days of miserable wandering; she was finally coming home. As the horseman called out to announce their arrival, she looked towards her Duke and their smiles spoke adequately of their contentment.

  Led out of the carriage, she followed the Duke. Night had grown dark and weary, and the new sun would be promise of days of joy.

  “Welcome, My Lord. The Estate has impatiently awaited your arrival,” the butler greeted them in.

  “Ah, Alfred. I hope all has been well behind me. Go ahead and declare that the Lord has arrived with his Lady. Make arrangements for us to dine.”

  “Surely,” he responded and walked away to his duties.

  With all these necessities addressed, there was one last order to be given, “I wish not be disturbed tonight.” He then turned to Abigail and whispered, “For the night presents opportunities for hearts that seek to consummate their love.” Smiling, they made their way to their chambers.

  As soon as the heavy door swung shut, the Duke bolted it and said, “At last, my dear Abigail, I have you to myself.”

  Abigail’s chest heaved with anticipation as a blush crept across her face. “My Lord,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “what shall you do with me?” She looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes, cocking her head to one side playfully.

  The Duke crossed the chamber in one long stride and stood before her, cupping her pretty face in his hands as he said, “What I have dreamed of doing for too long a time.”

  He brought his lips to her soft rosy ones, and she fluttered her long lashes before she closed her eyes and let out a soft moan, letting him know that she desired him as much as he desired her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, pressing her little body against his as he continued kissing her. She brought her own hands up to his neck, and before she could do anything else, the Duke pulled away long enough to spin around and bend her over the bed.

  “My Lord!” She gasped, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

  He began to quickly and nimbly undo the buttons along the back of her gown, slipping it off her until she was clad only in her corset and underskirt. He pressed himself along her backside, pushing his now-erect member against her rear. He kissed her bare shoulders, snaking his arms around her tiny corseted waist. She gasped with pleasure, and the Duke turned her around again, taking in the sight of her perfect breasts pushed up by her corset.

  “Kneel,” he instructed, and after a moment of confused hesitation, Abigail dropped to her knees. She lo
oked up at him with her large eyes as he unbuckled his trousers, letting them fall to the floor, revealing his large stiff member protruding from the nest of crisp dark hair. Loose tendrils of hair fell on Abigail’s face, and her lips parted as she widened her eyes with understanding. Without any further instruction from the Duke, Abigail opened her mouth and brought her face to the Duke’s loins, closing her mouth around him as he closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.

  When Abigail stood back up, she fingered the hem of the Duke’s shirt before lifting it off his head. She stared at the marvellously sculpted chest and torso, running her hands gingerly along the defined lines of his abdomen. The Duke stood before her completely in the nude, letting the girl touch and admire him, his nether regions stirring once more as he prepared himself for more pleasure. After all, they had all night, and it had just begun.

  He reached out, letting his hands brush against her neck, her collarbones, and the soft skin above her chest. He reached behind her, and with deft fingers, undid the knots of her corset. Abigail bit her lip and gasped as the corset loosened and eventually fell off, revealing her rounded white breasts, heaving with desire and anticipation.

  The Duke gazed longingly at her, tucking his thumbs into the waistband of her underskirt before pulling it down her creamy white thighs. She stood naked before him, a vision of ringlets and soft skin – she was a goddess in his bedchamber; Venus herself had risen that night, and the Duke would have her.

  He couldn’t take it anymore, and before she knew what was happening, the Duke had lifted her off the ground and up in his arms, carrying her over to the large bed. He dropped her gently onto the mattress and bent over her, his face hanging a few inches from hers, his hair flopping down. Abigail smiled and reached out to pull on a lock of hair, and the Duke was taken by surprise.

  A small slow grin spread over his face, and he lowered himself onto the bed, straddling her and bending over to kiss her deeply. As she kissed him back, the Duke thought of how she had transformed from a sweet and innocent maid who stole glances at him and was afraid to even breathe too loudly in his presence to a saucy seductress who now reclined naked in his bed and worked magic with her tongue.

  He smiled, and she cocked her head to one side and said, “What are you thinking?” He shook his head and kissed her again, but she broke away and said, “I am so very curious to know what happens inside that serious brooding mind of yours.”

  He smiled and said, “Well, if you must know, I was thinking of the first time I saw you, right outside this bedchamber – and I was thinking that back then I had not an inkling of how I would come to feel for you, my dear.”

  A sly look spread over Abigail’s face, and she said, “And how is it that you feel about me now, My Lord?”

  The Duke laughed and grabbed Abigail’s wrist, guiding her hand to his rather stiff erection and said, “How do you think I feel about you?”

  Abigail pulled her hand away and pouted as she said, “So that is all? I am another conquest to you? Am I just another wench to bring in your bedchamber and discard of soon enough?”

  The Duke furrowed his brow and said, “Would I have done what I did today for just any other wench? You know exactly how I feel about you.”

  Abigail smiled and said, “Yes – but a girl does like to hear the words every so often you know.”

  The Duke smacked his lips and said, “Well in that case,” he stopped to kiss her on her lips. “I think,” he moved down to her neck, “that you are …” he ran his tongue across her breasts, “the most incredible,” he moved lower to her stomach, “most beautiful,” he moved lower still, “woman I have ever laid eyes on, and I wish never to be parted from you.” With that, he plunged his tongue between her legs, and Abigail nearly screamed with pleasure.

  She closed her eyes and lay back, stretching her arms over her head as the Duke moved his tongue in circles around her innermost parts. His hair brushed against her inner thighs, and she propped her feet up on his shoulders as she writhed and moaned uncontrollably. He reached out and held her by the waist, holding her down as he moved his tongue like a cat lapping up a bowl of milk.

  Abigail began to move and jerk violently under him, and he looked up at her from between her legs and licked and sucked on her until she scrunched up her face and began to take shallow and laboured breaths, arching her back. The Duke finished her off and resurfaced, collapsing next to her. She was still recovering from the intense pleasure she had just experienced, and once her breathing returned to normal, she turned to him.

  “I didn’t know that was something I could enjoy so much.”

  He smiled and said, “I was the one really enjoying it my dear; if you only knew what you tasted like. The sweetest honey cannot compare.”

  Abigail was quiet for a moment before she said, “Is that really what it tastes like?”

  The Duke grinned slyly and said, “See for yourself,” before he pressed his mouth to hers and plunged his tongue inside. Abigail tasted herself on his mouth, and she closed her eyes and wrinkled her brow.

  “I don’t think I like that very much,” she said, wiping her mouth.

  The Duke let out a booming laugh and then said, “That’s quite alright – you leave the tasting to me.” He reached out and started to massage her mound with his fingers, and she gasped.

  “You’re teasing me, Your Grace,” she moaned, arching her back once more.

  He kissed her neck slowly, making his way to her breasts, and he spoke in a voice muffled against her skin as he said, “Well, that’s exactly my intention, my darling Abigail.”

  Abigail pushed her fingers into his hair and said, “Perhaps I’m tired of the teasing, my Lord–” she dropped her voice to a whisper and said, “Take me.”

  Without warning, the Duke flipped Abigail over on her back, caressing her smooth back and eventually letting his hands come to rest on her perfectly rounded bottom. He gently ran his hands over the swell of her rear before lifting his hand and bringing it down swiftly, a loud smack sounding through the chamber. Abigail gasped but did not protest.

  “Did you like that?” he muttered in her ear, and she nodded vehemently. He raised his hand again and brought it down harder. Abigail wriggled, and he stopped, not wishing to cause her actual pain.

  “Again, My Lord,” she begged, and the Duke smiled to himself before he spanked her again. She raised herself on her elbows just slightly, and the Duke lowered himself on the bed until his mouth was inches away from the swell of her bottom. He kissed her smooth cheek and then sucked on it until there was a purple mark on it, contrasting sharply against her otherwise flawless, white skin.

  Unable to bear it any longer, Abigail moaned, “Please … just take me.”

  The Duke pried her legs open, and she lifted herself on her hands and knees as he moved behind her, he too, on his knees. He positioned his member against her womanhood and slowly, holding onto her waist from behind, he slid himself into her.

  She gasped as they were joined, and once he had slid his entire length into her, he began to move. Slowly at first but picking up pace steadily, sliding in and out. Abigail began to moan and gasp, her entire body shaking back and forth as the Duke rhythmically pushed his tall and stiff manhood deeper into her. She turned her head and over her shoulder, she begged, “Kiss me.”

  He leaned forward, brushing her hair away with one hand while keeping the other firmly on her bottom as he continued to thrust into her. He bent all the way forward until his lips were able to meet hers. She moved, and he pulled out of her, and she rolled over, lying underneath him so she could face him.

  He kissed her fiercely as he slid into her again, this time from the front. She opened her mouth and closed her eyes, throwing back her head in agony. The Duke ran his tongue along the length of her neck, his hands sliding up her firm nubile body until they reached her breasts. He squeezed them, and Abigail moaned. He squeezed them harder and pushed deeper into her. Abigail threw her arms around his neck and looked up into his
eyes, her gaze meeting his directly.

  As he made love to her and stared into her eyes, he knew that she was the woman of his dreams, and he never wished to leave her. She knew that this man was hers and that the dream she had dreamed when she was nothing but a humble maid serving the great Duke had come true – she now lay in his bedchamber after he had so fiercely protected her and brought her back from the clutches of an evil man.

  They moved together, creating a perfect harmonious rhythm until the Duke emptied his hot seed into her, and she convulsed under him until hot liquid gushed out of her. Satiated and fulfilled, the two of them lay side by side holding each other’s hand until the early hours of the morning; exhaustion and sleep consumed the two of them, and they drifted off to sleep with their arms around each other, tangled up in a mess of limbs and bedcovers.

  Abigail’s eyelids fluttered one last time before she fell into a deep sleep, and the last thing she saw that night was the Duke’s peaceful face as he slept beside her. She snuggled closer to him, thinking about all that they had been through, and all the events that had transpired for them to finally lay together side by side once more. She thought about what lay in their future and found herself filled with happiness as her eyes closed, and she was carried away by sheer exhaustion and joy into a land of dreams, which tried as it might but could not be as beautiful as reality itself.