The Duke’s Twin Lust by Lorena Owen

Chapter Seventeen

Gently, Christiana released herself from Ernest’s embrace and moved away from him. “No, Ernest, I can’t,” she said pleadingly. Her voice said one thing, her body said another. He could see her hardened nipples peeking through her chemise. Passion was a flame that threatened to erupt from inside him and consume everything around him. He had experienced feelings of passion, but none were half as intense as this.

“Christiana, we both know you want this as much as I do,” he said, his voice husky with desire. His smouldering eyes burned with passion.

“I don’t think we should,” she whispered.

Ernest sighed. He had never wanted anybody as much as he wanted her in that instant. He ached to tear off her chemise and explore every limb and crevice of her body. He could tell that she felt the same way. Desire that mirrored the look in his eyes was pooled in her own eyes.

“I cannot afford to let you think,” in one deft movement, he lifted her out of the water and carried her to the banks of the stream. Thoughts of insects and animals around them ran through his mind, but he gave no second thoughts to them. All he wanted was his wife right now.

“No…” She sighed deeply against his lips, warm and full.

Shifting his head, he ran kisses along the line of her jaw.

“Oh my,” she said, and he saw her close her eyes. “That is not at all conducive to rational thought,”

“Good.” His lips continued exploring her body. He moved down to the column of her neck to the base of her throat. His mouth slid lower, kissing between her breasts.

“Oh God, Ernest, yes…”

Slowly, he pulled the chemise from her and flung it aside, scarcely giving it a second thought. He could see her pink nipples were still hard from desire. He held her with one arm, and cupped her free breasts with the other hand. He took the other nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly, while stroking the first nipple with his thumb. His tongue and his teeth teased and toyed until she grabbed at his shoulder to steady herself. Desire pooled in his stomach and stiffened his manhood.

She moaned softly, and he started to tease and toy the other breast with his tongue and teeth, all the while stroking the second breast with his fingers.

She sighed, raising no further protest.

His hands moved around her, over her and he caressed her buttocks. Her moans were driving him crazy. Slipping a hand between her legs, he made to explore the inside of her thighs, moving higher. She was so warm, and there was a stickiness between her thighs. He moved slowly. Deliberately. He could see she was tense with anticipation, and he deliberately delayed to torture her. At last his fingers brushed over her so lightly, and she let out a gasp. Looking at her face, he saw that her eyes were closed and she was lost in the throes of ecstasy. He wanted much from her. Much, much, more. She started to break away, but then Ernest bit her bottom lip, soothing it with the tip of his tongue.

He made to bury his head in the crevice of her thighs. He took a deep breath to inhale the scent of the places his hands had recently stroked. God, she smelled of spring, spices, and treasures that could not be given a name. Treasures that had never been discovered in the history of mankind.

All of a sudden, she pulled free from his touch. He was surprised. She seemed to be enjoying it, and her putting things to an abrupt end frustrated him intensely.

“What is it, Christiana? Have I hurt you in any way?” he asked, knowing she had given no indication of pain. Perhaps she could no longer bear the discomfort of the hard ground.

“Ernest, we can’t. Not yet,” Christiana said with a sad look on her face.

Ernest reached for her and took hold of her hands. “Christiana, I want you to know I would never do anything to hurt you.” There was desire on her face, but mixed with the look of desire was one of fear, which tore at his heart. He wanted her, and he knew she wanted him, but he was not going to do anything until she surrendered herself to him willingly.

He didn’t know how, but he knew she would be worth the long wait. He had been searching for a companion, but he found much more than that. Who knew that the Christiana he’d always hoped to avoid was the one who would make him smile and stiffen with desire?

“I know, Ernest,” she replied with an earnest nod. He was not going to push it further. He had heard gossip of how nobles would have their way, sometimes violently, with wives who refused to give in to them, as it was within their spousal rights. But Ernest was not like them. He would never do anything to cause Christiana pain.

He watched as she pulled on her chemise and went to the stream, washing every part of her body.

“Ow!” she suddenly cried out. Her face was contorted in what seemed to be misery.

“Christiana, what is it? Are you okay?” he asked with concern. They had been at the stream for hours. As he ran to her, he cursed himself for not suggesting they leave the stream a long time ago. Of course, she must be tired. She was a lady, not a housemaid or stable boy.

Suddenly, Christiana scooped up a handful of water and hit Ernest in the face. “I believe you just got tricked, Your Grace!” she said, laughing with mischief in her voice and hurrying away before Ernest could retaliate.

The look of shock on Ernest’s face was replaced with one of amusement. God, his wife had lots of energy. She still didn’t appear tired, after all. He had no idea Christiana was this physically fit.

“You dare to fool the Duke of Roxburghe?” he said with mock anger in his voice as he advanced towards Christiana.

“Yes, I do. If I may ask, what is the Duke of Roxburghe going to do about it?” she asked with nonchalance in her voice, laughing. Hearing her laugh did unfathomable things to him. It was all Ernest could do not to grab her again. He scooped two handfuls of water and flung them at her in quick succession.

“Ow!” Christiana shrieked. Before she could return the onslaught of water, Ernest sent two more in her face. Soon, she was able to get some into Ernest’s face. They continued this game for a while before Ernest suggested they return back to the estate.

Christiana looked up at the sky. “I didn’t realise it was so dark,” she said. Ernest nodded in reply. He had been so engrossed with Christiana he had not seen the world darken around them as well.

Christiana put on her dress, and they headed to their horse tethered to the tree nearby. Ernest freed the horse and seated her on the animal, before he swung up on the saddle and retook his seat behind her, her buttocks nudging against his groin. Her body was still wet, and her scent made his groin ache. He knew she was also aroused because he felt her stiffen. The tension between them was so palpable, it was like a hot knife sizzling through butter. Giving his horse a kick, he nudged it forward. The horse started to trot towards the manor.

Christiana and Ernest fell to talking, as they were wont to.

“Do you go hunting often?” Christiana asked. It was customary for nobles to go hunting.

“Not quite. It is not one of my favourite activities,” he replied.

“And why is that, Your Grace?” she asked.

“To me, the killing of foxes, pheasants and other animals seems needless. When I was a child, my father made me go on one of his foxhunts. I killed a fox and was smeared with the blood, as was customary. I distinctly remember my father beaming with pride, as I was one of the youngest boys to ever kill an animal. Meanwhile, I had nightmares of being ravaged by a pack of wild animals and couldn’t quite eat well for weeks,” he said with a grimace on his face.

Christiana let out a small chuckle. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Thank you, Christiana. I only go in the first week of November, and in the company of other nobles. I fail to see what is so interesting about the killing of animals for sport, and I suspect these hunts are just an excuse for some of these nobles to drink, without any show of shame. At least I no longer have to be smeared with the blood of foxes,” he said. “What about you, Christiana? What outdoor activities do you enjoy?”

“I’m not one for outdoor activities. I am content to sit with one of my favourite books and read all day.” Ernest did not believe this. To Ernest, Christiana had seemed like the sort of person who did nothing but stare vainly in mirrors, change her dresses everyday and visit the upscale fashion shops in London. However, he wasn’t so sure if he still felt that way about the woman who sat so closely with him now. There was so little he knew about this wife of his.

“Who are your favourite authors?” he asked, trying but failing to keep the scepticism out of his voice.

“Percy Bysshe Shelley, Sir Walter Scott, Susan Ferrier, Maria Edgeworth, and Jane Austen. Of all the authors mentioned, Jane Austen is my favourite. Sense and Sensibility is a favourite book of mine. I have read it countless times,”she said.

“I also love Jane Austen,” he replied.

“You do?” Christiana asked, the shock evident in her voice. Ernest knew this was strange for a nobleman to say. Nobles spent their time gambling, whoring, getting drunk, and fighting duels, but most men did not quite like to sit still and read—particulary a book by a woman author.

“Growing up with no brothers and a sister who was interested in nothing but the latest embroidery styles and the latest dresses was boring for me. So I took to reading books. My father didn’t quite care about that, as long as I was the dutiful son who went on hunts with him. Sense and Sensibility is also a favourite of mine,” he said. He hoped this confession of his wouldn’t reduce his esteem in his wife’s eyes.

Apparently, he need not have bothered, because she remarked, “I am glad we share similar interests.”

“So am I,” he replied with a smile, and genuinely meant it. “I know Rebecca is having a hard time accepting that you have changed," Ernest continued. “Please be patient with her, Christiana. You weren’t what we expected when you came back home.” He’d had a great time with his wife today, and the prospect of a verbal war between Christiana and Rebecca threatened to sour his mood.

“I know. I have caused Rebecca a lot of pain, so it will be hard for her to believe I have genuinely changed. I only hope she will forgive me some day,” she said with a contrite look on her face. Ernest’s hopes of avoiding a war this evening rose.

He expertly reached down from the horse to pick some sunflowers growing nearby and presented them to Christiana.

“Ernest, why are you giving me sunflowers?” she asked with amusement in her voice.

“The sunflower represents a new beginning. A beginning of companionship, hope, and the good things of life. It symbolizes the end of conflict and the beginning of sweet things in our marriage,” he said.

Christiana grinned, taking the flowers. “These are lovely,” she sighed contentedly. “Thank you.”

“We should go see a play in London,” he suggested as they continued towards the manor.

“I would love that,” Christiana replied. “I’ve never been.”

“What would you like to watch?” he inquired curiously. He was not a fan of plays, but it was one of the many things he wanted to try, with Christiana by his side.

“You should be the one to choose.”

“How about one of Shakespeare’s?” the duke offered.

“Which of them?”

“Macbeth, Hamlet, The Tempest?”

“Oh, how about The Tempest?”,she replied with a glim of excitement in her eyes.

“Pray, do tell my lady, would you rather be a Miranda over a Lady Macbeth?” he asked, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I’d sooner be a beautiful damsel whose father encourages a romantic relationship between her and a man than a woman who spurs her husband to murder. Surely, you wouldn’t want me to make you murder the king and other people!” she commented, grinning wickedly.

“How scandalous of you, my lady! Of course, I wouldn’t want to murder anyone, and I’m sure you wouldn’t make me a murderer either,” he replied with mock horror on his face.

They could see the manor’s gates in the distance now, and the conversation quieted as they finally approached them.

A stable boy came forward to open the gates for them. “Welcome, Your Grace,” he said with a bow.

“Thank you,” he replied.

As Ernest walked into the manor, he noticed there was an air of gloom. Servants huddled around in groups and dispersed when he came close. It wasn’t until Mary came out that he knew something bad had certainly occurred.

He waited as his wife’s maid approached, dreading what news she brought.