For the Heart of a Roguish Duke by Harriet Caves

Chapter Three

Alexander watched her leave the library trying to dress. His fingers touched his lips where she had kissed him, the burn of lust not gone. He still tasted her sweet seductive nectar and felt the softness of her breasts against his chest. Oh, how he wished he could do it all over again.

He sat in the dim library for a while to make his want calm down. He was in no hurry to go home, for he wanted to cherish this moment and smell the fragrance she left behind.

And then he would leave. Alexander knew this woman would haunt him until he found her again. He touched his crotch and sighed in the pain of his desire. He could not dismiss his longing for her and wished she would have allowed to let him to take her there and then.

But who was this beauty that made me feel this way like no other woman ever had? Why have I not met her before? Well, whoever she is, I will find her before anyone takes her to be his wife.

Alexander finally was able to leave the library. He left silently so as not to arouse anyone’s attention and was lucky to find the path to his carriage clear. “Take me to Lord Thomkins’ residence,” he told the driver, and settled down in his seat. He did not feel like going back to an empty Manor.

As the driver drove down the dark road, with only a lamp to light the way, Alexander closed his eyes for a few minutes, only to be woke by the driver as they reached Horace’s residence.

* * *

“It is a little late for visiting, isn’t it?” Horace grumbled as he walked into the drawing room with Alexander following behind at the hour of two in the morning.

Horace was dressed in his nightclothes. “For you it is, apparently,” Alexander grinned. “Are you surprised to see me, my friend?”

“I normally welcome any friend before nine and not after. You know I like to retire to my bed early now,” Horace yawned. “Well, when did you arrive? And why didn’t you write to me of your return, I would have come to meet you in when you disembarked. I presume it was Southampton?” Horace and Alexander sat at the table.

“You are correct, it was Southampton. But I didn’t write because I was preoccupied about my father’s passing,” said Alexander. “I missed his funeral. It was hard to read about it in a letter sent to me by my dear old uncle.”

“That is unfortunate. Let’s have a drink to your father,” Horace went over to the drinks cabinet and poured them both a glass of port.

“Not that unfortunate, we didn’t really get along. I don’t wish him any bad even where he is resting now. I just don’t feel the grief that comes with death.”

“Grief is different for many people, I have heard. It affects some badly and some people not at all. I believe that you do love your father somewhere in your heart and you only need to find it.”

“Can we talk about something else tonight?”

“All right, I see how uncomfortable you are. Tell me then, how was your tour and where did you go? I am so jealous, I wish I was able to accompany you,” he said. “But work called me to stay here.”

“Quite. I wish you to come the next time I leave. But let me tell you it was quite an adventure and most pleasurable too. I visited Norway and Sweden. I fell in love with the mountains, the fresh alpine air, much cleaner there than here in England. The mountains were great giants, much taller than the ones we have here.”

“I don’t believe we have mountains, are they not merely hills over here?” Horace laughed.

“Yes, in comparison to the Scandinavian mountains I suppose you are correct. Do you know, I befriended a man who was traveling alone and as he had been on a tour like this already, I decided to go with him.”

“That could have been dangerous, my friend. You were lucky he was not an undesirable. And then perhaps I should come along with you next time. You have had more excitement than I have, that is true,” said Horace.

Alexander put his glass down, and Horace filled it again. “How is your mother, I forgot to ask,” Alexander crossed his leg, and drank some more.

“Very well, she likes to keep busy with her activities and visiting the other ladies of the ton. As long as she doesn’t bother me, I am content.” Horace put a pipe in his mouth and lit it. “Mother now helps as a volunteer at the charity orphanage. It keeps her occupied.”

“How very gallant of her,” Alexander said. “You must be proud of her.”

“Yes, of course I am. But, I want to hear more of your adventures since I am now wide awake. Were you entertained by any women over there?” Horace took a puff.

Alexander smirked, relaxing into his seat. “I did, quite a bit. We stopped at taverns and brothels along the way, but it was few and far in between. Harmless fun, I say.”

As Alexander finished his drink, he took out a pipe from his pocket and lit it. “Although I had those women, they were nothing as exciting as who I nearly had tonight,” Alexander said mysteriously.

Horace stopped his pipe midway. “Now this sounds intriguing.” He leaned toward Alexander. “Don’t delay to speak, dear friend!”

“All right. I met a woman in the library tonight, you see.”

Alexander imagined her now, she was naked and asking for him, being quite flirtatious. Her dark hair was fanned out on the soft rug, the fire was burning high, its flames reflecting in her seductive eyes. Her breasts were large and pillow like but her pink, hard nipples were what made his arousal stronger.

Oh, if only I was in your bedchamber with you, I want to kiss you, to taste you.

“So, you met a woman in the library,” Horace prompted. “What happened next?”

“We kissed of course and flirted a little. I believe I frightened her, poor thing, because she ran away,” Alexander sighed, rather regretfully.

“You old devil! Why, this is more exciting than going to the brothel. Don’t leave me in suspense, you must tell me more,” Alexander’s friend prompted. “That cannot be all.” Horace did look disappointed.

“I’m afraid it is all, old friend. I don’t know who she is, although she did look familiar. I can’t think where I could have seen her. But Horace, her beauty is like that of an angel, and she was so soft and delicate.”

“My old friend, did you have her in the end? I quite like the idea of having it in an improper setting such as the library,” Horace chuckled. He poured himself and Alexander more port.

“No, like I said, she fled like a rabbit does in the middle of the night. I must find out who she is, Horace, and I must have her as my own or I believe I will go mad. I imagine I have fallen in love?.” Alexander leaned into his seat, feeling the soft leather against his back.

“Or I believe you have fallen in lust,” Horace chuckled. “So, you don’t know who she may be?”

“No,” groaned Alexander.

“What does she look like? That must be clear in your mind, certainly. Am I right?”

“From the light of the low-burning fire, I saw her eyes were the color of sapphire blue and her hair, auburn. Her smile was stunning, and she had a delicacy about her.”

“You make her sound like a dessert.”

“She is more than a dessert,” said Alexander dreamily. He looked sad.

“I have an idea to stop your woes. Let’s visit the brothel, you will forget about this woman as quickly as you saw her. You know I believe women are nothing but trouble. You must forget about her.”

But Alexander was not ready to forget about her. There was something about her he truly liked.

“I don’t feel like going to brothel, not tonight, my friend,” he said.

“But Alexander, this cannot be you talking. You and I always go to brothels. It is what we do! I must say I am disappointed and yet, also surprised, my friend,” Horace stated in a tone that was neither approving nor disapproving.

“I feel like staying here, just talking and drinking. If that is all right with you. Or I can just go home to a sad, quiet Manor.”

“If that is what you want,” said Horace. “I am happy where I am. And if this suits you, then it suits me. We will visit a brothel another night.” And so it was, Alexander and Horace drank the night away, with Horace falling asleep just as the sun came up.

“I think I will sleep for a while in the guest room, Horace,” Alexander was drunk, but not enough to forget the woman he had been talking and thinking about all night.

“I will retire too,” said Horace, waking up.

Two footman came forward and took the men to their rooms. As Alexander began to sing, the footmen sniggered.

“You may laugh,” said Alexander, “But I am in love, my friends. And no amount of mocking can change that.”

“We apologize, Your Grace, and please forgive us,” said one of the footman.

“He is quite drunk, don’t mind him, he is not really in love,” laughed Horace. He hiccupped. “I believe I am a little too drunk too.”

“It’s quite all right,” Alexander’s pitch was slightly higher than normal. “Oh, I don’t believe I feel so well.”

The footmen hurried to get Alexander in the guest room and Horace into his, which thankfully was just next door.

* * *

At one in the afternoon, Alexander woke up, remembering the night before. He smiled for a second, and then he remembered who was coming to his Manor at three.

“Oh dear, I will be late for the solicitor.” Alexander dressed with the help of the valet. He then hastily wrote a note to Horace.

“Please give this to Lord Thomkins. I will have to leave now.”

“Very good, Your Grace,” the butler said. “I can assure you this letter will reach him.”

Alexander was never one to rush home. When he came home after University, he made a decision to stay away from his father as much as possible. And with his companion, Horace, they visited brothels as a drunkard would visit a tavern.

But today was important. The Will of his father was to be read by the Solicitor. It would tell him what his future would hold, and what he should be doing. His father would not be one to leave such details out.

* * *

Scarlet did not have a peaceful sleep, and the only person she could blame for that was herself. She had those dreams, of the man who made her swoon last evening in the library. She wanted him last night, although she didn’t know who he was.

And why shouldn’t I want him? I have not liked anyone, and he seems to be quite the rake. I am a woman now and I should be finding myself a suitor. But who could this man be?

So, when her lady’s maid woke her up, she was quite vexed. “I do apologize, My Lady,” her lady’s maid, Anne-Marie, seemed alarmed. “Are you not well?”

“No, it’s not all your fault. I am weary, that’s all. How early is it?”

“It has just gone seven, My Lady.”

“All right, I should be up then.” As her lady’s maid set to get her ready, Scarlet’s thoughts drifted to that man again. The mysterious one who lured her to his charm, and who dared to touch her, seduce her.

“My Lady, you are smiling. Do you have any good news from yesterday?” asked Anne-Maria, as she slid a petticoat over Scarlet.

“I didn’t realize I was smiling,” said Scarlet. “I suppose I had a pleasant time at the ball. It was good for me to leave this Manor and be among other people.” Even as she said this, she remembered how horrible Daisy had been.

I suppose I do have to thank her for her dire actions, for if she hadn’t upset me I wouldn’t have gone to the library, and I wouldn’t have met that man.

“My Lady, Mrs. Williams would like to see you. She says it is important.” Mrs. Williams was the housekeeper.

“Thank you, Anne-Maria. I will see her as soon as I am ready.”

Scarlet wondered what the urgency was. It did sound rather important.

* * *

“Mrs. Williams, Anne-Marie tells me you wanted to speak to me?” Scarlet found the housekeeper in her sitting room. “Oh, there is no need to stand,” Scarlet said when the housekeeper went to stand up. She noticed Mrs. Williams winced a little.

“My Lady, you should have called me upstairs. You needn’t have come down.”

“It wasn’t a bother, truly. I like to visit down here, it gets so lonely upstairs. Mrs. Williams, are you quite all right? You seem to be in some sort of pain.”

“It is nothing, just some pain in my back. Don’t be worried about me. Now, we had a letter yesterday from the Solicitors and I am not aware if you have seen it?” said Mrs. Williams.

“No, I don’t recall it.” Scarlet thought about it, and then something triggered in her mind. She did see an important-looking envelope. “Yes, I did see an envelope. I didn’t see fit to open it as it was addressed to the new Duke.”

“Quite,” Mrs. Williams said. “However, in the absence of the new Duke, I opened it. I was certain he wouldn’t mind, as it was from the Solicitor. You and His Grace are required to attend a reading of the late Duke’s Will at three today. His name is Mr. Johns, and he will read and direct the pair of you as the Will says.”

“Is His Grace aware of this?” asked Scarlet.

“He was made aware when he came in yesterday from his tour. I believe you were at the Spencer’s ball at the time.”

“So I was. Well, thank you Mrs. Williams. I won’t take up more of your private morning time. Can I see the letter?”

“I’m afraid it is in the possession of His Grace, My Lady. I assume it would be in the study.”

“Very well.” Before she left the sitting room, Scarlet noticed Mrs. Williams wince again. She didn’t look well at all, she would inquire about it later.

She thought about the Will, and the Duke. She had not seen him since they were children. Would he have changed much? Of course, he was a man now, and he may not be as nice as his father. Doubts and fears crept into Scarlet, and she felt uneasy of what her future would be now.

The Duke would have his own thoughts on how to run his Dukedom, and it may not necessarily be the way his father did. But would he be happy to have her as his Ward, or would he cast her off the Estate now that his father was not here?

Scarlet looked at the clock. It was still very early. How would she pass the time until three? It seemed like a very long time to wait.

I will do some needlework, and read a little in the library, and I have some letters to answer. That should take some of my time.

As she walked back to her old room, she thought of a time when she and Alexander would sit by his father, who would read a children’s tale from his chair. Alexander’s mother would be sitting on another chair, not far from them. She would be smiling while working on a picture.

Scarlet loved the stories of Cinderella, and Beauty and the Beast. The books were still in the library, and she would go there just to sit with them. She would turn the pages slowly and carefully. Sometimes she read them again. She was not quite Cinderella, and neither could she compare herself to Beauty, but she felt a kinship with both characters.

How I wish you could be here today, Your Grace. I do miss you so.

Scarlet sighed woefully. Uncertain of her future, she picked up her needlework and continued with the picture that she sewed. She waited for the hour of three to arrive quickly.