Chapter 7

Alice tapped her foot impatiently, watching the tapered candlesticks finally go out. Their dinner had been scheduled for ten, as established after she’d last sent word to her husband at eight. But now it was nearly one, and thus far, there had been no sight of him.

When Duncan had first passed out, it had alarmed her greatly, but after the physician arrived and examined him, she was relieved to hear that his state of unconsciousness was more from thirst and exhaustion than the infection from the cut on his leg.

“I have cleaned the wound and dressed it,” the physician, an older man in a frilly shirt and jacket, told her. “He needed a stitch or two for good measure, but he’s had worse, to be sure. I gave him some tonic for healing and sleep, and he should wake up in a few hours.” Then, to someone behind her, he said, “Take Her Grace to her quarters please.”

“No!” Alice had exclaimed, dodging a footman’s hand at the last second. “I want to stay with him.”

“You cannot,” the physician replied matter-of-factly. “Carry her if you must. His Grace needs to rest.”

Alice had been deposited back in her rooms and was not allowed back into Duncan’s rooms after that. She had even tried the door connecting their rooms but was greeted by two guards blocking her path. Shoulder to shoulder, they stood before her like a wall, and would not let her pass.

“Your Grace, I assure you, you will see him soon enough,” the physician had assured her, seemingly struggling to be polite after her last attempt to break in. “You may have your dinner with him later. He will need it. But for now, you must let him be.”

Eventually, she had agreed to do so, but now that Duncan was nearly three hours late, her patience had run out. Pushing herself out of her chair, Alice walked past the beautiful arrays of flowers she’d been so giddy over, now giving them an annoyed glance as if this were all their fault, and opened the connecting door to her husband’s bedroom with gusto.

“What?” she hissed aloud, stepping into the empty room.

There was no one. Not the physician, not the guards, and certainly not her husband. Where had they all gone?

Alice slammed the door shut with force, the thunderous thud temporarily satisfying her anger, and strode out of her room, only to crash into Mrs. Fletcher as she entered the hall.

“Your Grace!” Mrs. Fletcher gasped, the two of them gripping each other’s arms.

“Mrs. Fletcher, my deepest apologies,” Alice replied quickly, mortified.

The old woman was sometimes annoying with her secrets, but she by no means wanted to hurt her!

“Why, you look positively flushed, Your Grace,” Mrs. Fletcher remarked after waving off Alice’s apology. “Whatever is the matter?”

“I was supposed to dine with my husband tonight,” Alice answered, feeling her anger rising again. “Yet, when I went to retrieve him, I didn’t find him in his room. Do you know where he is?”

“Oh, well, he is in his study, I believe,” Mrs. Fletcher replied tentatively. “But I am sure if you could just wait. His Grace will surely be?—”

“That is all I need,” Alice said as she began to walk away, her ice-blue skirts swishing around her legs. “Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.”

There were many parts of the manor she was still not familiar with, but the first places she chose to memorize were where her husband might be. Unlike her first night in Baxter, Alice immediately chose the correct hallway once she made it to the first floor and strolled confidently to his study, yanking open the door before striding inside.

“How dare you,” she snapped, making a beeline for her husband. “We had an engagement hours ago!”

Duncan looked up at her, startled for a moment, before his usual mask of steady calm slipped back on. He appeared much improved since she’d last seen him. Cleaned, dressed, and—had his mask been oiled and tended to? His cerulean eyes had also regained their usual strange brightness. Through her anger, she felt a sliver of relief to see him like this again.

“Alice, I have not forgotten,” Duncan started to say, putting the papers he was holding down on his desk.

“Oh, really?” Alice scoffed, putting her fists on her hips.

Before Duncan could respond, she heard a deep laugh behind her, and as she turned toward the sound, her cheeks turned red in embarrassment as she realized that they were not alone. There, sitting in a high-backed chair by the fireplace, was a handsome man with startling blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

“Oh,” she breathed in embarrassment, suddenly wishing the floor would open up and swallow her.

“Morgan,” Duncan stated wearily, his eyes lingering on her before turning eventually toward the other gentleman. “Might I introduce you to my wife, Alice Banfield, the Duchess of Baxter. Alice, this is my ally and close friend of many years, Morgan Greene, the Duke of Granthill.”

Morgan all but bounced out of his seat like a puppet on strings, and a big grin spread across his face as he opened his arms and came toward her.

“Good evening,” he greeted in a surprisingly chipper tone.

To her surprise, the man walked right past the hand she extended to him and scooped her up into a hug, even giving her a small spin. Before Alice could decide what to do, he lowered her back to her feet, his arms holding her body steady as she swayed a little.

“My! You are going to be good for our dear Duncan, aren’t you?” he asked excitedly. “You know, after I heard how the two of you met, I knew you would be.”

“Morgan,” Duncan warned, his voice so gruff that it made Alice jump. “That is quite enough.”

Alice turned back to her husband and saw that he was staring at her intently.

“Alice, I do apologize for being late, but Morgan and I have just a few more things to settle. Please, go back to your rooms and wait for me. I shall be there as soon as I can.”

“Good heavens!” Morgan shouted, then barked out a laugh. “Do my ears deceive me, or did the Dark Duke just apologize? What a feat! Alice, darling, you simply must sit and have a drink with us.”

“We have work to finish,” Duncan urged, shooting him a threatening glare through his mask, making him look all the more menacing.

If Morgan was fazed by Duncan’s glare, Alice saw no sign of it. Instead, he merely strolled up to her husband’s desk, picked up his quill, and began to scribble on several papers.

“There,” he stated happily, tossing the quill down. “It is done.”

“You said you weren’t happy with this draft,” Duncan argued as Morgan walked toward Alice with hands behind his back and a smile on his face.

“Well, now I am,” Morgan replied, keeping his eyes on Alice. “All you need to do is sign, and the deal is done. And with business concluded, I think the three of us should have a drink. What do you say, Alice darling?”

“No,” Duncan insisted.

Alice cast a glance at him, and he shook his head subtly. For a moment, she thought of obeying him, but as she felt her anger rise again, she smirked, looked up at Morgan, and smiled brightly.

“Why, yes,” she replied sweetly. “I would love to.”

Duncan felt his annoyance grow as he watched Morgan make Alice laugh with his perfectly timed anecdotes. On some level, he understood Alice’s little act of defiance. His meeting with Morgan, however sudden and unavoidable it may have been, had made him break his promise, and there was a certain punishment that came with that.

But, as Morgan’s behavior grew more flirtatious and Alice’s laughter grew more affectionate, he became less comfortable with the two of them being so comfortable with one another. He could not have Alice, it was true. But he would be damned if someone else did.

“Let me tell you this other story,” Morgan said between his laughter as he poured Alice another glass of whiskey.

He had laughed at her as she had her first sip and nearly spat out her drink, not used to the bitter taste, and Duncan had nearly punched him right then and there. Now, what was he trying to do? Get her foxed?

“I think not,” Duncan declared, not able to take it anymore.

He leaned forward and snatched the glass out of Morgan’s hand before Alice could take it back. He then stood up, downed the glass in one swallow, and took the bottle from Morgan’s hands.

“I believe I have kept my wife waiting for dinner long enough,” he added, ignoring his friend’s amused expression. “Thank you for everything these past for days, and for coming by this evening, but it is time for you to go.”

Morgan gave him a fox-like grin, as if he knew something Duncan didn’t, but he conceded with a nod and rose to his feet.

“It is late,” he agreed, straightening his jacket. “And you newlyweds certainly have better ways to spend your nights than this. I shall leave you to it.”

Duncan felt another stab of guilt as his friend left, watching Alice’s laughter-filled eyes suddenly dim with disappointment at his friend’s remark. Morgan was just being Morgan with the suggestive comment, but it was obvious it cut his wife deep.

“Come,” Duncan commanded, unable to take the look of disappointment on her face anymore. Taking her hand before he even realized it, he led her to the door. “Let us go have our dinner.”

“Are you angry with me?” Alice asked, unable to take the silence anymore.

After they’d returned to her rooms, she had asked him how he was feeling, but aside from a grumbled response she couldn’t understand, he’d not said a word.

“I am not,” Duncan stated, keeping his eyes on his plate as he continued to eat.

That was the only comfort Alice had been given thus far—watching him eat. She was relieved that he was doing so but still worried about him despite her anger. He was a large man, and it felt somehow forbidden to see him so weak.

“Then why will you not speak to me?” she asked, setting down her fork. “I have every right to know what happened to you while you were gone. Especially after you returned the way you did!”

Duncan suddenly put down his cutlery, finally shifting his gaze away from his plate. Alice waited for him to finally look at her again, but instead, his gaze only turned to the two footmen standing in the corner.

“Some privacy, please,” he demanded, his tone polite.

Alice watched her husband in silence as the servants quickly left the room, waiting for him to explain. Finally, when she heard the door close, he looked up at her, and she was shocked by his cold gaze.

“When I said you had freedom, I assumed that you understood that there would be certain limits to that,” he said gravely.

Alice looked back at him, confused. Was he still upset about the ladder?

“I am not following,” she admitted, which only earned her a scoff.

“Morgan is quite charming, is he not?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “I’ve seen him woo many women, so I suppose I cannot fault you for falling for his tricks. But I must inform you, wife, that I will not tolerate you taking a lover. Especially someone whom I consider a friend. The only one who will be touching you is me.”

Alice felt her jaw drop, unable to believe what she had just heard. How dare he! Was he not the one constantly avoiding her?

I would touch you if you let me.

“I have no interest in your friend,” she stated coolly instead, keeping her temper in check. “Nor any lover, for that matter. But if you are to put this mandate, husband, then I must insist you do the same.”

She expected him to laugh, but he only stared back at her as if trying to sort her out. Did he really think she wanted another man?

“Apologies,” he said at last, seemingly deciding to believe her. He stood up and slowly walked around the small table to come to her side.

Alice felt a shiver of desire run through her as he came closer, but she held herself in check.

“I can become?—”

“Obsessive,” she offered.

Duncan kept his eyes on hers as he nodded. “But only with things I care about.”

“You care about me?” Alice asked, genuinely surprised.

She watched as his brow furrowed and his jaw ticked.

“I am… responsible for you now,” he answered slowly, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. “It is my duty to keep you safe. Setting sofas on fire is not safe. Climbing ladders by yourself is not safe,” he added with a light laugh before his eyes grew serious again. “Morgan is not safe. He is my friend, but he is not safe.”

“I do not want your friend,” Alice repeated calmly but firmly, feeling her body fill with heat as he pulled her close. “But if you do not want anyone else to claim me, then you will have to do so, husband.”

“Claim you?” Duncan murmured, his hands sending pleasure through her bloodstream as one began to stroke her back and the other caught a fistful of her curls.

“Mhmm,” Alice breathed, nodding slowly as she met his arousal-filled gaze.

“You do not want to be claimed by someone like me, Alice,” he replied honestly.

“Because you are already claimed by someone else?” she asked, hurt shining in her eyes.

Duncan took a steadying breath and slowly shook his head. “No, I am not. For good reason.”

Alice’s relief was evident, but he did not want her to get her hopes up. Just because he was not with another did not mean that he should be with anyone.

“Why?” she asked, her voice dipping to a husky tone.

Duncan shifted on his feet, hating how just her voice could arouse him. “Because,” he admitted, silently pleading with himself to stay in control. “I take things far.”

A whimper escaped her lips as he said this, and his hand tightened on the nape of her neck.

“I want you to show me,” she breathed, her eyes on his. It was a plea. A yearning to understand.

He shouldn’t. It was wrong. But Duncan’s mouth possessively came down on hers as his resolve wavered. He immediately felt her body melt into his embrace before returning the kiss with just as much fervor.

Pleasure and desire lanced through both of them as his mouth worked hers needily, the kiss far more personal and branding than the first. His hands, as well, seemed to paw at her as if she were going to disappear from his arms at any second.

“Alice,” Duncan groaned into the kiss, their fervor growing as he sat down in a chair and pulled her into his lap.

Alice gasped as her legs were spread over his knees and her sex slid tightly against the rigid line that had formed beneath his trousers. The feeling sent a shot of primal urgency to her womb.

Wanting more, she wriggled her lower half again. This time as she did it, Duncan growled, and after tightening his grip on her, he began to move her back and forth over his lap, rubbing his clothed manhood against her sex.

“Duncan,” Alice panted between their kisses, feeling a strange frenzy building in her belly.

His only response was to kiss her harder, deeper, as her bundle of nerves rocked against his hardened length, until her moans grew longer and her body began to vibrate with growing tension. He would not take her. But damn it if he wasn’t going to let himself have something, and he knew exactly what he wanted.

With one hand, he pulled her skirts up and ripped her undergarments, letting her bare, dripping mound settle over his clothed, hard, aching shaft. Alice gasped as he did this, but immediately bucked her hips for more. His hands gripped her backside over her dress, and as they kissed, he helped her work herself over the edge.

It was all Duncan was allowing himself. Just this one little thing. To feel Alice’s orgasm seep into the fabric of his trousers and coat his cock. That wasn’t too awful of him… was it?

She cried out his name, her tone letting him know she was close, and it nearly drove him mad. How easy it would be to free himself and thrust into her…

“Oh, God!”Alice screamed against his lips as her orgasm overtook her.

Duncan held her tightly, caging her to his chest as she trembled and whimpered. He brushed a kiss against her temple, unable to help the small act of tenderness, but when he felt her breathing start to even out, he pushed her off his lap and got to his feet.

His entire body trembled with unquenchable need, and he needed to go before he lost control.

“Have a good night, Alice,” he said, hating how cold it sounded.

Pain and embarrassment flashed in Alice’s sleepy, confused eyes, and Duncan felt guilt rip through him as he walked away from her. To his surprise, she was in front of him in an instant, blocking his path.

“Why must we stop?” she panted, searching his eyes as an emptiness consumed her.

She might not know much about love, but she was beginning to recognize lust rather well, and she could tell by the way that Duncan was looking at her that he wanted to stop as much as she did.

“It is late,” Duncan rasped, bringing her palm up to his lips. “We both need much rest.”

“Come to bed with me then,” she implored quickly.

Duncan’s eyes, once soft with emotion, suddenly hardened, and he shook his head. “You still have no idea what you are asking of me,” he told her.

“Then tell me! Please, do not just disappear on me again,” Alice pleaded as moved around her and went to the door.

“Goodnight, Alice,” was his only reply before he disappeared into his room.

On the other side, Duncan leaned heavily against the closed door that separated him from his wife, and willed himself to stay put. He was coming apart at the seams because of this woman, and it was showing. How had he allowed this to happen? From the kiss all the way up to now? He was not soft. He was barely kind to his friends. But Alice made him compromise himself with almost every interaction.

It had to be because he found her so irritatingly attractive. It was the only possible reason. With her ample curves, nipped-in waist, and big, glowing eyes that seemed to unlock every dark thing he kept chained up, he was constantly losing his wits to his deeply erotic thoughts of her.

The way she somehow challenged him while being so adorably sweet was driving him mad as well. It was quite difficult to get truly angry with someone you would rather prefer to coddle. It was far, far too confusing, and therefore, there was only one thing to do: stay away from her.