The Duke’s Twin Lust by Lorena Owen

Chapter Nine

Amelia walked out of the gardens, Mary on her heels.

“Are you sure the duke wouldn’t mind being interrupted?” Amelia asked Mary.

Mary had an enigmatic smile on her face when she replied, “Once, perhaps. But the duke might not mind as much now.”

“Why?” Amelia asked, confused.

“The duke seems happier since you’ve arrived. It seems he is warming up to you.”

Amelia could not help the blush that creeped up her cheeks. “Do you really mean that?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Mary nodded. “You are acting quite different from Lady Gillingham. I know the duke has noticed your different behaviour.”

Amelia sighed. She knew she had promised to exude Lady Gillingham’s cold exterior. But Amelia couldn’t bring herself to be cruel to people who were nothing but kind at heart. Even Rebecca, who was as yet still cold to her, did not seem like a bad person. There was no reason for Amelia to be continue to be mean to them.

Mary appeared to have read her thoughts. “Lady Gillingham might be displeased,” she said.

“I cannot pretend to be as cold as she is,” Amelia replied. “I don’t know how to.”

Mary nodded. “I understand. But it shall be truly strange if she returns to the manor and starts to behave the way she always has.”

Amelia felt her belly twist in discomfort. For a moment, she had quite forgotten all of this was temporary. It was easy to get used to this, her beautiful chambers, the stunning gowns, and the duke’s smile.

She felt a pang. She had thought she’d just needed to slide in, do what Lady Gillingham wanted, and slide out again. But somehow, she felt herself getting attached.

And what she cared most about was not finally living in a manor or having good food to eat or pretty gowns to wear, but the duke.

From what she could glimpse, Lady Gillingham had treated her husband very horribly indeed. The duke seemed a nice man, and did not deserve any of that. When Amelia left, he was going to have to deal with his unloving, cold wife once more, and Amelia’s heart went out to him.

But it was not her business, she thought. Highborn problems and frivolities had nothing to do with her. All she had to do was make sure she did her job, and did it well.

“Mary,” she asked. “Do you think it is necessary to act the way Lady Gillingham acted? If we do not want to be discovered, that is.”

“It’s hard to say,” Mary said. “The duke seems to be none the wiser about the switch. Perhaps he simply thinks your incident has changed you and made you into a kinder person. If that is so, it is quite unnecessary to be mean to him.”

“But you just admitted it would be strange if Lady Gillingham returns.”

Mary sighed. “I know. It will be, that I am sure of. But I know you are a kind person at heart, and trying to force yourself to fit into the duchess’s thorny character might make the duke realise he has been taken for a fool faster than acting like yourself.”

Amelia nodded. “I see what you mean. But what shall we do about Lady Gillingham’s displeasure?”

“I can handle that,” Mary said confidently. “Anyhow, the duke has started to warm up to you. The more he starts to like this new behaviour of yours, the less likely he is to suspect something is wrong. You might want to keep acting like this, at least for a couple of weeks more.”

Amelia nodded. Acting like this came naturally to her, she thought. It was easy to be nice when you had everything you could ever want. But, again, she wondered why Lady Gillingham did not share her point of view.

They had left the gardens and walked across the grounds, and now Mary was leading the way into a small dark room across from the stables.

“Are you sure he would not mind?” Amelia asked in a whisper.

“I’m sure he would be very pleased to see you,” Mary replied, and Amelia blushed again.

The dark room had only one source of light, a misshapen window high up on the walls. In the middle of the room, on a raised dais, the duke was battling with a man Amelia had never seen before. Boxing seemed a rather painful sport, Amelia thought, and even though the duke swung out of the way of more blows than he was receiving, Amelia felt her heart lose a beat when the few punches hit.

The duke had not seemed to notice them, and Amelia used this to her advantage, letting her gaze run over the duke’s body. He was beautifully formed, she thought. She had not seen a lot of men’s bodies, but she did not think any of them could take her breath away, not in the way the duke’s had.

The muscles of his arm were bulging as he fought the other man. His chest was broad, and the muscles on them appeared to fit him like a glove. His stomach was flat and toned, and Amelia could feel a sigh escape her by just staring at it. His entire body was glistening with sweat, and the sight made Amelia’s heart lose another beat.

She wanted to go to him and press her fingers against those firm muscles, to catch a little of his sweat on her fingers. Already, she could feel a warmth between her legs, and Amelia started to blush yet again. It was quite obvious that she was very unexposed to men, she thought, because it did not seem normal for the mere sight of a man to cause such a visceral reaction in a woman.

Mary curtseyed before she walked away, leaving Amelia quite alone. But, for once, Amelia did not mind. She watched the two men box each other, noticing how the duke seemed to get better as time went on. At first, he had merely been on the defensive, trying to avoid the blows headed in his direction, but now, he was swinging back, pushing against the other man.

“Good,” the other man grunted as finally, the duke managed to land a blow on his abdomen. Amelia’s eyes widened. The man did not appear to wince at all.

The duke nodded. Amelia noticed he looked stern and serious, quite different from the duke she knew, the duke that had kissed her back in her chambers just hours ago. She felt another wave of wetness between her thighs as she recalled their kiss.

This was strange, she thought. It was strange to have these unladylike thoughts concerning the duke. She was nothing to him, just a commoner who was impersonating his wife. And, if he found out she was not who she said she was, he would be no less merciful.

When Amelia looked up again, pushing away her confusing thoughts, she saw that the blows had subsided.

“Very good, Your Grace,” the other man said. “We should practise again soon.”

“We will,” the duke said.

The man turned away. Climbing down the dais, he strode towards the direction of the door. The room was so dark he didn’t see Amelia.

Ernest watched the man go, and then he sighed, running his hands through his blond hair. He stepped off the dais too.

Amelia cleared her throat.

The duke turned to her, his eyes squinted. “Christiana?” he said.

“Your Grace,” Amelia said, curtsying.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

Amelia felt her stomach squirm. He did not sound displeased, but she had been hoping for a trace of delight in his voice when he asked that question.

“I thought I’d come see you, Your Grace,” she muttered, her gaze on the floor.

“Ah,” the duke said, as he pulled off his boxing gloves and flung them back onto the dais. “How are you doing, my lady?”

“I’m well, Your Grace,” Amelia said, slightly embarrassed. Perhaps she should not have come.

He stared at her, his face impassive, and Amelia wondered what he was thinking. She felt her embarrassment increase under his gaze.

Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

* * *

Never, ever, in the weeks since they had been married, had Christiana ever suggested taking a walk.

Ernest stared at her in confusion. “A walk, my lady?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Why?” he asked. It was strange in itself that she had come to find him, but wanting to spend some time with him made him even more concerned, particularly after the way she had shut herself off from him that night.

God. That night.

Ernest had to admit he had thought of little else but their kiss since it had happened. Thoughts of Christiana had filled his head all day, making it hard to concentrate at his boxing lessons. It was the first kiss he’d shared with her, and the fact that she’d initiated it made him feel like they were making great progress in their marriage.

But then, she had refused his offer to spend the night with him.

He would not hold that against her, he thought. She was perhaps still shy. Maybe she would come to open up more as months went by.

Only, Ernest did not have months to spare.

They had to start making heirs, and soon. It was expected, and it was normal. Ernest had given a lot of leeway, more leeway than he could afford to spare, and now that they were getting close to their two-month anniversary, he knew he had to bed her, and soon.

He would deal with that later, he thought, as he looked down at his wife. He had to get her to open up to him more, and then he could broach the topic of making heirs again.

“Is it unimaginable for a wife to crave the attention of her husband?” Christiana asked, startling him.

“No,” he said, slightly amused. “But if the said wife has never given her husband the time of the day in the past, it is usual for the husband to be taken aback.”

For a moment, Christiana looked put off, but then she raised her chin defiantly. “Well, the wife is requesting a stroll now.”

Before he could reply, she took his arm and steered him towards the direction of the door.

Ernest could not help himself. He let out a chuckle.

His wife paused, looking up at him.

“What is it, my lady?” Ernest asked, mildly concerned.

“It’s just… I’ve never heard you laugh before,” she said, the surprise evident in her voice.

Ernest felt a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I don’t laugh often,” he told her.

“I would assume you have not had a lot of reason to,” she said.

When he stared down at her, he saw that she looked slightly guilty.

He took her gloved hands in his. He was aware of how much he wanted to pull her to him and have her scent overpower his nostrils, of how he wanted to kiss her again, but he kept a tight lid on his emotions. It would not do to scare her away.

“I understand being in a new home has been difficult for you, my lady,” he said. “I would not hold your former behaviour against you.”

She looked slightly relieved. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.

Ernest let out another chuckle.

She looked confused as she gazed up at him. “Did I do something amusing, Your Grace?”

“You sound like a child when you apologise,” he said. He found it alluring as well, he realised.

She looked up at him, mock anger on her face. “Are you calling me childlike, Your Grace? I take offense to that. Perhaps I shall call your boxing instructor to give you a lesson or two in being nice to your wife.”

Ernest could not hold back any longer. The laughter tore out of him, amusing him in its intensity. He laughed for a long time, bent over and holding on to his midriff.

He had not known he had such a hilarious wife.

When he looked up at her, Christiana was giggling too.

“You laugh like a child, Your Grace,” she said.

He looked down at her, still amused. “You would find that I would school my boxing instructor far better than he would school me,” he said.

Christiana raised her brows. “Well, then I must have imagined all those punches you took.”

“Yes, you must have,” Ernest said. “I’ve been training with Seamus for years, and I think I have thought him a thing or two.”

Amelia looked slightly amused. “It didn’t seem that way,” she said.

“I was going easy on him,” Ernest replied. “I was rather distracted.”

“By what?” she asked.

By you, he wanted to say. He had been distracted by the thoughts of their kiss, and he was aware of how an outsider would think that he was on the losing side of this particular battle. He was usually able to hold himself against Seamus better than how he’d done on that particular day.

“Your Grace?” his wife called.

“Yes, I had a lot of things on my mind,” he said.

She nodded. “Perhaps I can offer some relief.”

He raised his brows at her, and she blushed. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.

Ernest let out another chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t.”

“I just meant… I could offer a good listening ear. I’m a rather good listener, or so I’ve been told.”

Ernest raised his brows. From what he knew of Christiana, she liked to talk and talk, never to listen. She was really changing in pleasant ways, he thought.

“My concerns might be quite boring for you,” he said.

“I doubt it, Your Grace,” she said. “Your concerns are my concerns. We are husband and wife now, if you recall.”

Ernest smiled. “You might be right about that.” He took her arm, feeling a pleasant shiver run up his own arm. “Let’s walk,” he said.