The Duke’s Twin Lust by Lorena Owen

Chapter Five

The manor was huge.

Amelia had never been inside such a house before, and she had not been sure of what to expect, but she had to admit that the place where Lady Gillingham lived was a formidable one. It looked like it had stood for centuries, and Amelia held her breath as the doors flew open and she and Mary rode through the gates.

“Your Grace, it’s good to see you again,” the groom said.

Amelia raised her head as high as she could, before she gave a curt nod. She hoped it was similar to one of Lady Gillingham’s.

“Those are the stables,” Mary said, as she pointed towards a low building beside the house walls. “We’d best leave the horses there before we go in to see the duke.”

At the mention of the duke, Amelia felt her heart miss a beat. The last thing she wanted was to meet the man she was going to have to fool for the next few months. But she swallowed and nodded. She would find a way to get out of this, but right now she had a job to do.

She nudged her horse forward, and the horse trotted in the direction of the stables. Amelia looked around as she rode. The manor was the biggest place she’d ever been in. She could not believe she would have to livethere. Lady Gillingham had been right when she’d talked about how living in this estate would be a dream come true for Amelia.

A stable boy came out of the low building before their horses reached the stable.

“Your Grace,” he said, collecting the reins from Amelia.

Amelia got down from the horse, forcing her movements to be as graceful as they could be, but aware that she had gotten down clumsily. She felt her heart seize as she looked at the stable boy—had he noticed anything? But the boy was busy with the horses.

Mary slid off her horse and moved over to whisper in Amelia’s ear. “The boy is named Joseph. You don’t like him because he drinks a lot.”

Amelia nodded. Turning to Joseph, she said. “Good morning, Joseph. Still drinking?”

The boy gave a laugh. “No, Your Grace.”

Amelia heaved a silent sigh of relief. She could not help feeling like she had passed the first test.

“Christiana,” said a voice.

Amelia whipped around. Coming out of the stables was a blond-haired man dressed in dark breeches and a white shirt. His shirt was open at the neck, and Amelia could see the blond hair dotting the area at the top of his shirt. He was lean, with broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms. His face was angular, with high cheekbones that almost recalled feminine features. He looked down at Amelia with his piercing blue eyes.

Amelia swallowed again. Why, he was one of the handsomest men she had ever seen.

“Why are you back so late?” His blue eyes spoke of concern.

“Erm, I-” Amelia started, unsure of what to say.

“Your Grace, we were attacked by bandits,” Mary cut in smoothly. “They took everything but our horses.”

Amelia looked up at the man. Your Grace. This man was the duke, the man she was supposed to be married to?

Amelia felt a ball in her throat. She had not thought the duke would look like this. She had expected an older, senile man. And she had not expected her instant attraction to him as well.

“Bandits?” the duke asked, and his eyes flashed with anger. “We must do something about those outlaws. They didn’t attack you, I hope?”

Amelia found herself tongue-tied as she looked up at her new husband. Mary had to cut in again. “We suffered no personal blemishes, except upon our dignity, I’m afraid,” Mary said.

The duke gave a tight nod. “You are well, I hope?” He was looking at Amelia, and she forced herself to spill out a few words.

“I feel fine, Your Grace,” she muttered.

“Perhaps a warm bath and meal will get the duchess feeling like herself again,” Mary suggested.

The duke nodded. “Tell the servants to start preparing lunch,” he told Mary, and she set off at once towards the manor.

Amelia watched her go. It was all she could do to stop herself from crying out, telling Mary to come back. She felt naked without the old maid.

“What happened?” the duke asked.

“Erm,” Amelia said. Looking up at him made the words in her throat dissolve into nothingness.

“Christiana, I understand you’re still upset about what happened,” the duke said. “But you’re safe now. You have to believe that. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His eyes were full of liquid care, and Amelia looked away. It was only the first day, and she was already feeling sharp pangs of guilt about deceiving this man. She wondered again why Lady Gillingham was doing this. Her husband definitely cared about her, and yet here the lady was, running away from her marriage. Even the story of her secret, forbidden love for a stable boy did not justify her actions to Amelia. It made no sense.

“The bandits came upon us suddenly,” Amelia said. “We had no choice. We had to surrender everything.”

The duke nodded. “Those people have to be found and brought to justice,” he said.

Amelia’s head shot up. “I would rather not, Your Grace.”

The duke’s eyes narrowed. “And why not?”

How could she explain that there were no bandits, after all? “I mean, they would be difficult to track, would they not?”

The duke shook his head. “Anyone fool enough to attack a duchess and make off with a fancy carriage and a truck full of jewels will not be difficult to find.”

“Ah, well…”

The duke leaned forward and took a hand in his. For a man so large, his touch was surprisingly soft. Amelia felt tingles run down her spine.

“Not to worry, my lady,” the duke said. “I’ll have some men search the area. They will not get away with this.”

Amelia nodded, her throat tight.

The duke surveyed her hands with a frown. “You’re not wearing your ring,” he said.

Amelia’s heart missed a beat as she looked down at her bare fingers. The duchess had refused to part ways with the ring.

“The bandits took it too,” Amelia lied.

The duke’s frown deepened. “I will make sure it is recovered. For now, the servants must have drawn up a hot bath for you. You need to get rid of the dirt from the road,” the duke said.

Amelia nodded.

Suddenly, a woman in a pale pink gown appeared from nowhere. “Lady Gillingham,” she said.

Amelia felt her heart seize in fear. The woman looked highborn, with her pretty dress and her black hair done up in a fancy hairstyle, but Amelia had no idea who she was.

“I know you have arrived late, but I’d hoped you would come later,” the woman said, frowning at her. “I thought we’d be spared the pleasure of your company for a few more days.”

Amelia looked at the woman. “We got attacked,” she said measuredly.

“You don’t look attacked,” the woman said.

“They took all we had.”

“But they left you?” the woman said, her lips twitching.

What had Lady Gillingham done to offend this woman so? Amelia forced a tight smile and turned back to the duke. “I should go and see myself changed into fresh clothes, Your Grace.”

Before the duke could reply, the woman cut in, “You should tell us more about your attack, Your Grace. I’m certain it would make a riveting story. I, for one, would like to know who was fool enough to attack the Duchess of Roxburghe.”

“Bandits aren’t the brightest men, are they?” Amelia said. It seemed like the woman was trying to get a rise out of her, and Amelia did not know how to stop her.

“I’m surprised the famously tart Lady Gillingham had no response to bandits. I would have been certain that your tongue would send them running for their lives.”

Amelia forced a laugh. This woman, whoever she was, really hated Lady Gillingham.

“My tongue is not useful for all situations,” Amelia said. “I’ve found it best to keep quiet under some circumstances.”

“If only those circumstances could arise within this manor, I’m sure we would all be happier.”

“Lay off my wife, Rebecca,” the duke said.

Now Amelia knew the woman’s name, but she was no closer to figuring out who she was.

“It’s all jests, brother,” Rebecca said. “This is how your wife and I spar—with our words. Although it seems your wife’s sword has lost her edge since her attack.”

Amelia stared at Rebecca. She was the duke’s sister? Her mind flashed back to what Lady Gillingham had said about the duke’s family being dreadful. Had she been referring to Rebecca? Or, were there other members of the duke’s family swarming around the estate? Amelia felt seized by trepidation.

This was going to be harder than she thought.

Pulling herself to her full height, she gave Rebecca a sardonic smile. “Of course, Rebecca. I am a little tired, as you can see, but I’m sure I’ll be up to form if you give me a little more time.” Before Rebecca could reply, she turned her back resolutely on her. “Your Grace, I must leave now,” she said, before she turned and walked away, towards the direction of the manor.

* * *

Inside, Amelia met Mary beside a huge granite fireplace.

“Mary, thank God,” she whispered, going over to the woman. “I had no idea who the duke’s sister was, and you weren’t there to help.”

“I’m sorry,” Mary said. “I couldn’t disobey the duke, but I lingered near because I had a feeling something like this would happen.”

“Why does Rebecca hate me?” Amelia asked.

“Oh, the both of you are always at loggerheads. Lady Gillingham can’t stand her.”

Amelia nodded. It seemed Lady Gillingham could stand only a few people.

“Let’s go and have your bath,” Mary said.

She led Amelia up the stairs into a huge corridor lined with polished wooden doors.

“Where are we going?” Amelia asked, nodding to a maid as the girl curtseyed to her.

“To your chambers, Your Grace,” Mary said.

She pushed open the last door on the left, and Amelia felt her heart miss a beat again. She had lost track of how many times that had happened that day.

Lady Gillingham’s living quarters were… impeccable.

It was a huge room, with a yellow fire crackling in a large fireplace and beautiful silk curtains hanging over the windows. The closet seemed huge, and Amelia could only imagine what it had to be like for Lady Gillingham, living in a place like this. The bed looked to be six times bigger than Amelia’s regular bed, and, as Amelia pressed her fingers into it, she saw that it was the softest bed she’d ever laid eyes on. She looked around. To be in here, to live like this, it was just too much.

“You need to take off your clothes, Your Grace,” Mary said, gesturing to the huge tub at the other end of the room.

With Mary’s help, Amelia stripped off her clothes. She gingerly entered the tub, naked. The water was pleasantly warm, and as she sat down, the warm water caressed her joints, massaging away the pain that riding had thrust upon her.

Mary started to wash her with a sponge, drawing it in circles down her back, across her arms and legs, and on her stomach. Amelia felt herself relaxing despite it all. It had been a frightful day, but she had to admit she was enjoying the care she was experiencing.

After the bath, Mary dressed her up in a robe. She sat her down in front of the table, brushing her wet hair.

“What caused Lady Gillingham and Rebecca’s initial tiff?” Amelia asked. It had been bothering her all this time. It seemed a little strange that Lady Gillingham was not on good terms even with her sister-in-law.

“No one can say,” said Mary. “They’ve hated each other since they first set eyes on each other. It’s one of those things.”

“Will Lady Gillingham expect me to be mean to Rebecca as well?” Amelia asked.

Mary gave a short laugh. “Of course. One of the characteristics that defines the duchess to these people is her disregard for everyone, including her sister-in-law. It would be more than a little strange if she all of a sudden started to be nice to everyone.”

Amelia sighed. Being mean to people was not her strong suit. She’d had a problem keeping up with the charade of saying mean things to Rebecca just minutes ago, and she was certain she would keep losing at this game if it kept being played. However, there was nothing else to do. She had to keep up the charade.

There was a knock at the door, and Amelia froze.

Mary shared a worried glance with Amelia before she said, “Come in.”

It was the duke. He was still dressed in his white shirt and black breeches, but the shirt was plastered to his skin with sweat. Amelia’s heart missed another beat. Seeing him like that made unladylike thoughts pop into her head.

“Has the duchess taken a meal?” the duke asked.

“Yes, Lord Gillingham,” Mary said, curtsying.

“Well then, leave us,” he told Mary.

Mary glanced at Amelia before she departed. Amelia felt her stomach crumble up with worry. She hated being alone with the duke.

The door closed behind Mary, and he turned to Amelia.

“My lady, I trust you are well,” he said.

Amelia looked up at him. She could not help noticing he sounded a little stiff, a lot different from the caring man who had grabbed her hands at the stables and asked if she was well. Had it all been a show? Amelia did not know what to think.

“I’m fine, Your Grace,” she said.

“You can address me by name, you know,” he said, a frown playing at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, Ernest,” Amelia said. The name sounded strange and foreign to her lips.

“You seem better than before,” he said. “When you had no words for my sister, I worried that the bandits had taken my wife and replaced her with a different person.”

Amelia forced out a laugh. If only he knew how close to the mark he was.

“I need to talk to you, Christiana,” he said, his brows furrowed.

Amelia nodded, her eyes on the floor. She could not look at him, however much she tried.

The duke moved closer to her. Amelia felt her breath catch in her throat. She fought the urge to take a step back from him. He was so close to her, too close. She did not like that one bit.

“Wait a minute,” the duke said, his voice taking on an edge.

Amelia felt her head snap up. “What is it, my lord?” she asked.

“Why are your hands so dark? These do not look like hands that belong to my wife.”