The Duke’s Twin Lust by Lorena Owen

Chapter Fifteen

Ernest looked down at her, surprise rocking his belly. He had never had a woman interested in his life before.

“Why do you look so shocked, Your Grace?” Christiana asked as she glanced up at him.

Ernest shook his head. He knew being surprised at Christiana’s new self was old at this point, but he could not help himself.

“Nothing,” he said, and his grip tightened around her involuntary. He felt her relax against him. Her hair was underneath his chin, tickling the skin of his neck. The motion brought a stirring to his groin.

He shook his head again, trying to clear it and focus on other things. “I do not think you are boring, my lady,” he said. He was as interested in her as she was in him.

“I’d like to hear about you first,” she insisted.

Ernest shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “I grew up in the very manor in which we now live. A lot of dukes talk about how their fathers are overly strict and their mothers gooey and soft, but I’m afraid I had the opposite experience.”

He could feel her looking up at him. “Your mother was unkind?”

“Not unkind,” Ernest said, “But I always had the sense that she didn’t quite want children. My father was the opposite. Although he maintained a distance with the tenants and always seemed quite untouchable, he was a soft-hearted man to his family. Whenever he saw Rebecca in particular, his eyes seemed to sparkle. He treated her like a delicate flower. Of course, he didn’t want me to be overly spoilt and maintained quite an emotional distance with me, but I could always sense his pride.”

“Your father must have been a great man,” Christiana said, and Ernest could detect the trace of a smile in her voice.

“So he was,” Ernest said. “Tell me about your father,” he added.

Christiana sighed. “He was the best man I ever knew,” she said. “He used to bring me flowers every day, one for me and one for my mother. He had a voice like a nightingale, and used to sing me songs every night. My childhood was simply the best,” she said.

“Used to?” Ernest asked, confused. “He is still alive, isn’t he?”

Christiana let out a gasp, and Ernest stared down at her.

“Christiana, is everything alright?” he asked, wondering if she was suffering from the after-effects of her encounter with the horse.

“I’m fine, thank you, Your Grace,” Christiana said quickly. “I just meant he doesn’t do it as much as he used to anymore.”

“Why not?” Ernest asked.

“Well, once he arranged the marriage with you and I responded negatively, we stopped getting along the way we used to.”

Ernest squinted at her. For some reason, she did not sound convincing. Perhaps she was a wee bit tired, he thought.

“You did not want to marry me?” he asked, inserting a teasing note into his voice.

“I did not want to marry at all,” Christiana said in a small voice.

“Why not?” Ernest asked. He knew there were a lot of highborn ladies who dreaded being married, mostly because they did not want to leave the home they had known all their lives, but Christiana did not seem like a shy woman.

“I never thought I could ever truly love a man,” Christiana replied, and there was a trace of something in her voice that struck at Ernest’s heart. “I never thought I would be in a position to meet the kind of man I would want.”

“I do not understand, my lady,” Ernest said. He was slightly confused as to what she meant.

Christiana shook her head. “It does not matter, Your Grace,” she said, and her tone was almost wistful. “Let’s not talk of such things.”

Ernest wanted very much to prod her to reveal what she meant, but he sensed that would make her withdraw even further. And so, he bottled his curiosity and asked, “What was your reaction to the marriage?”

Christiana paused for a moment, and Ernest got the feeling she was thinking hard.

“I was upset,” she said after a while. “I did not want to leave my home and the people I’d known for years. I hated the thought of leaving.”

Ernest gave a slight nod. He understood. “I see,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” Christiana said. “You don’t want to hear me talk of how displeased I was about our marriage.”

“In fact, that is the very thing I want,” Ernest told her. “I want to know everything about you, Christiana. The true you.”

She sighed and snuggled closer to him, and Ernest let one of his arms encircle her. He loved the feel of her against his body. He wanted the ride to go on forever, so they could stay like that, touching each other.

“What was your reaction to our impending marriage?” Christiana suddenly asked.

Ernest shrugged. “I didn’t attach much thought to it,” he said truthfully. “I needed a wife, and when your father proposed a match between us, I agreed readily. All I wanted was a woman I could be at least cordial with, a woman to bear my children.”

Christiana squinted up at him. “You never wanted a woman to love?” she asked.

Ernest felt laughter bubble up in his throat. “I don’t think love truly exists, not for men in my position.”

“Why do you say so, Your Grace?” Christiana asked. She sounded perplexed.

“Only common people speak of meeting their soulmates and falling in love,” Ernest said. “Noblemen who often meet their partners through arranged marriages have no such luxury. Besides, I have yet to see anything that would suggest love is nothing but a mirage.”

Christiana made a sound of disbelief. “I think you’re wrong, Your Grace,” she said. “I believe in love. My parents’ marriage was proof that love exists.”

“My parents’ union was quite the opposite,” Ernest revealed. “They were always cordial with each other, of course, but I never saw anything that would suggest they were in love.”

“Is that why you don’t believe in love, Your Grace?” Christiana asked. “A number of people have fallen in love through arranged marriages too, you know.”

Ernest shrugged. “I suppose you’re right, my lady,” he said. “However, I didn’t think myself as the kind of man who falls in love easily.”

“You strike me as exactly that kind of man, Your Grace,” Christiana said.

“Do you really mean that?” Ernest asked, slightly amused.

Christiana nodded vigorously. “You’re a kind, compassionate man who cares a lot about other people. You put the needs of your people first and you treat your servants and other lowborn folk with consideration. You are kinder than most noblemen I’ve met, Your Grace,” she said.

Ernest felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He felt a small, secret pleasure in realising how highly she thought of him. “Why, you flatter me, wife,” he said.

“I mean every word,” Christiana said.

He stared down at her. She was looking up at him too, and when their eyes met, she flushed and looked away.

He felt his amusement grow. He had only just thought to himself that Christiana was a shy woman, but he thought he would have to rethink that sentiment.

“Tell me about your mother, Your Grace,” Christiana said.

“Truth be told, she reminds me of you,” Ernest said.

Christiana looked up at him. “Really, Your Grace?” she asked. “How so?”

“Not the way you are now, of course,” Ernest corrected himself. “She reminds me of how you were when you first arrived here. You seemed frustrated, as though you were a bird that was caged in. You seemed eager to fly, to explore. My mother was the same. Although she hid it well, I caught her most of the time staring out the window, as though she sought to delve out and explore the world out there.”

“She did not like the life of a noble?” Christiana asked.

“No, she did not,” Ernest said. “I don’t know why, but I always thought she would make a better commoner. Although she performed her duties as a duchess well, she did not seem to take joy in any of it. She did not like being a mother, either. According to my father, she was quite eager to stop giving birth to children from the moment I popped out. My father wore her down finally, hoping for the customary spare, and Rebecca was born. Afterwards, she insisted she was done with childbirth.”

“What kind of commoner do you think she wanted to be?” Christiana asked.

“Oh, perhaps a farmer,” Ernest said. “When the other ladies were busy at work with their embroidery or knitting, she hung around the fields, staring eagerly as the farmers worked. She used to question them a lot about farming.”

“Farming is hard work,” Christiana said with a strange tone of voice. “Perhaps your mother only wanted to be free, but I do not think the life of a commoner would be very pleasing to her. It’s not pleasing to anyone.”

Ernest stared down at her. For some reason, she sounded like she had intimate knowledge of what she was talking about. Perhaps she’d conversed a lot with the tenants at her father’s estate.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “But I always thought she would be happier as a commoner. She hated wearing gowns. Frilly nonsense, she called them.”

Christiana laughed, and Ernest paused, the better to listen to the sound.

“Do you enjoy being a noblewoman, my lady?” he asked.

“It is all I ever wanted,” Christiana replied, sounding wistful.

“I’m glad you’re happy about being a highborn lady,” Ernest said. “For a while, I thought you were like my mother, despising all things attached to nobility.”

Christiana gave a nervous chuckle. “Of course not, Your Grace,” she said.

“Do you like it here?” Ernest asked, trying to sound casual, but quite interested in what she had to say. Even with her changed behaviour, he could not tell whether she liked it or not.

“I love it,” Christiana said simply, and Ernest could not help the smile that spread across his face. “Everyone around here seems so nice and helpful. I’ve never been in a place like this before.”

“I’m glad you’re adjusting,” Ernest said.

“It’s difficult to not like it here,” Christiana said. “I had not thought I would make a good duchess, but I’m beginning to think I was wrong about that.”

“Why would you think so?” Ernest asked.

“I just never thought I’d be one,” Christiana said.

Ernest squinted at her. “What, you didn’t think you could ever be married to a duke?”

“I didn’t think I would marry at all,” Christiana said. “I thought I would end up an old maid, alone forever.”

Ernest looked away. Her words reminded him of Rebecca.

Christiana seemed to realise what she had just said. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t mean to make you think of your sister.”

Ernest shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said. “But I am quite interested in knowing why someone like you would think they wouldn’t get married.”

“There was no reason in particular, Your Grace. Or, perhaps it was because I simply thought I was not good enough to get married,” she said.

Ernest felt a slight surprise. Perhaps he would not be too astonished to learn that the former Christiana thought that way, but there was no reason for the present one to ever think that way.

“I think you would find out that you are wrong, my lady,” Ernest said. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”

When he gazed down at her, he saw she was blushing again. He smiled to himself, slightly amused.

Suddenly, the horse snorted, and, looking up, Ernest saw they had come to a lake. He pulled on the reins and stared. It was a marvellous sight, the body of water surrounded by lush green vegetation, out in the middle of nowhere.

Christiana sighed, and Ernest knew she was enraptured by the sight as well.

An idea suddenly came to Ernest. Holding Christiana steady, he climbed off the horse.

“What are you doing, Your Grace?” Christiana asked.

“I would like to have a bath,” he said, looking up at her.

“You would not want to ride back to the manor in wet clothes, Your Grace,” Christiana said in warning.

“Who said anything about wet clothes?” Ernest asked.

Before she could say anything else, he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off him, ridding himself of his hat along the way.

“Your Grace,” Christiana whispered, and he heard her gasp as she looked down at his body. She seemed arrested by the sight, and it was a few seconds before she realised what she was doing and looked hurriedly away.

“I do not think this is wise, Your Grace,” she said, still looking away.

Ernest felt his amusement grow. “You are my wife, Christiana. During the course of our marriage, it is expected that you see me naked at least once. Even if you haven’t yet.”

Christiana let out a sound of disbelief. She was still turned away from him.

Ernest shrugged. “Alright then,” he said. “Have it your way, my lady.”

He pulled off his shoes, one after the other, before he reached for his breeches.

When he looked up, Christiana had her eyes on him, and she was blushing furiously.

“Your Grace,” she muttered. “Please… don’t.”

Ernest chuckled. “You can turn away if you so wish, and open your eyes when I’m in the water.”

Christiana let out a gasp. “You really don’t mean to go into the lake wearing nothing,” she said.

“Why, I very much do,” Ernest said.

“I just didn’t think dukes did things like that,” she said.

“I’d like to think I’m quite different from the average duke,” he said, smiling.

With one single, fluid motion, he pulled off his breeches.

Christiana gave a strangled yelp and buried her face in her palms.

Ernest burst into laughter. “Why,” he said in between fits. “I had no idea you were so shy, Christiana.”

She let out a sound like a growl, her face still buried in her palms.

Turning away from her, Ernest ran for the water and dove into the depths. The water was pleasantly cool, and it hit him like a soothing salve. He swam for a while, enjoying the feel of water on his skin, before he turned to Christiana again.

She was looking at him now, her entire face flushed. “Your Grace,” she whispered. She seemed unable to form any other words.

Ernest smiled up at her. “You seem in need of a bath as well,” he told her. “Would you join me?”