Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

" Y our Grace, I must apologize for my family's conduct. I know they can be overbearing. They get carried away most times. But they meant no harm, I can assure you."

Lucy's family had finally left, and she wasn't sure about Duncan's disposition. He seemed almost jovial at some points and subdued at others, restrained even as if he was holding himself back. She didn't know what to make of it.

Who was she kidding? Of course, she knew. They had gone too far, especially her father. But it was only the norm. Viscount Pemberton was jovial to a fault. If only Duncan could understand. But he had been quiet, not uttering a single word or even acknowledging her presence. It was a bad sign. The duke was angry. Oh, this was bad.

"I promise, Your Grace, it was unintended. I know they must have crossed some boundaries. They did not intend to make you uneasy. Physical affection is only our way of showing our love for each other. I would make sure to educate them on not overstepping bounds around you. But I am terribly sorry for–"

"Don't apologize."

What? "Your Grace?"

"Do not apologize. There is nothing to be sorry for," his voice deep and reassuring.

"Really? Are you absolutely sure? I could talk to them. It is not a problem."

"Don't. There is no need for that. You have a lovely family, warm and inviting. It is a pleasure to be with them."

Who was this person and what had he done with Duncan? Her boisterous family being a pleasure to be around? It wasn't like she didn't enjoy her family's company. Of course, they were absolutely delightful. She knew that firsthand. But the duke?

"I feel good whenever I am around them. It is something I never did with my own family."

Was she dreaming right now? Oh, it would be such a disappointment. But she couldn't be dreaming. She hoped not. She looked up, catching the sincerity in his eyes. It was rare and struck her heart like a chord.

"Are you certain, Your Grace?"

"I am, Lucy. It was a welcome change." Duncan's lips curled in a rare smile, one that reached his eyes, and softened her features, making her breath hitch.

In that instant, Lucy felt a rush of emotions. It was like the world had shifted, the ground beneath her feet more solid than ever before. Her heart swelled, a disturbing realization settling within her. She was in love.

Oh no.

He had been clear from the beginning. This was a union forged by necessity. She had tried, began to accept it. She had resigned herself to a life of cordial detachment. Yet now, seeing him smile, a genuine smile that softened his entire demeanor, she felt an unexpected warmth spread through her chest.

Her heart pounded, each beat a reminder of her own foolishness. She had promised herself, warned herself not to fall in love; to keep her emotions in check. But as she gazed into his eyes, she felt her resolve crumbling. Here was a rare glimpse into the man behind the title. It spoke of unguarded tenderness, one that made her almost hope against all reason.

A swirl of emotions flooded her senses – fear, anger, longing, hope, and an aching sense of vulnerability. She was drawn to him–not as the duke, but as Duncan–in all his mystery, aloofness, and kindness. The walls she had carefully constructed around her heart had begun to dissolve. They were being replaced by a yearning she could no longer deny.

"Your Grace," Lucy said softly, taking a tentative step closer. Her voice trembled, betraying the storm of feelings within her. "I am glad you felt their affection. It means a lot to me."

"I am glad for that as well," the duke's smile widened, his eyes shining brightly.

The world outside ceased to exist. They stood together in the dimly lit parlor, the air thick with tension as hearts raced. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls, illuminating the rich tapestries and heavy drapes that adorned the room.

She tried, oh, she tried to banish the thought from her head. But Lucy couldn't stop herself from believing, even if for a moment, that their marriage could be more than a mere arrangement.

What if, just what if theirs could be a union of hearts, bound by love and mutual respect? What if she was his beloved, his wife, in every sense of the word? What if?

Duncan's gaze wandered to her lips, his brows furrowing in thought. The tenderness that had illuminated his features only moments ago was replaced by a shadow of regret. And the spell was broken. What could have gone wrong?

"Lucy," Duncan began, his voice low and measured, "I must beg your pardon."

Her heart fluttered in apprehension. "Whatever for, Your Grace?"

His eyes met hers, sorrow further darkening his usually steadfast countenance. "For denying you the one wish you hold dear–to have children." His tone was heavy with disappointment. "I know how dearly you desire it."

Lucy's heart ached with his words. She had longed for children, dreamed of filling her home with the laughter and light only a family could bring. Yet, Duncan had been resolute with reasons she could only hope to understand.

He didn't think it was possible to hate himself more than he already did. He hated to be the cause of her crestfallen face. But he kept going. He had to.

"I believe that our marriage ought to remain uncomplicated." He thought he heard the self-reproach in his voice. "I thought it best not to entangle our lives any further." Yes. That was the right thing to do. The sensible thing. So why did he feel like he was doing something wrong? Why did his chest feel so hollow?

"I know how deeply this desire runs within you. But I am sorry I cannot fulfill it." He wanted to stop talking, but he could not.

"Why, Duncan? Why? It is not yet too late. We can still–"

He shook his head, a melancholic smile gracing his lips. "It is not merely a matter of time, Duchess." If only she knew.

"Why, Duncan? Why would you subject me to such torture and pain? Is it not enough that you deny me the pleasure of your touch? Now you deny me the joy of motherhood."

"Lucy–"

"No, Your Grace. No."

Lucy and Duncan stood close, the air between them nearly suffocating him. The silence that had once felt comforting now crackled with tension.

"Your Grace. I have seen certain things, subtle signs that trouble me. I need to understand."

Duncan stiffened, a cold dread creeping up inside. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked, unable to keep the defensiveness from creeping into his voice.

She met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. "I see you. I see how you never go about without your gloves. I see how you recoil at the touch of someone. You can't even stand my touch. On our wedding day, you had your gloves on. I see it all."

Duncan sucked in a sharp breath, his teeth grounding silently. "You are mistaken, Lucy."

"No, I am not. I may be perplexed but I am not blind. You are my husband and I wish to share your burdens. I will stand by your side, no matter what. You only have to let me in. Let me share your burden. Please…" her voice trailed off.

His jaw tightened and he turned away, his posture rigid. "There is no need to concern yourself with such matters. It is not your burden to bear."

"Duncan," Lucy pressed on, "I am your wife. If something is troubling you, I wish to know. Please, let me in. I beg you."

He shook his head, the walls around him fortifying. "Some things are best left unspoken. And I will have you remember that you are my wife in name only. Nothing more. You need not trouble yourself over my matters."

Her face fell and his heart clenched. He would bear it. It was better than the alternative. How could he let her know? What would she think? That she married a weakling? He couldn't bear to imagine. It was better this way. He would continue to bear his greatest shame.

He did not need anyone to share his burden, least of all his wife, no matter how tempting that was. No matter how much he wanted her. "It is no matter of your consequence. Let it be."

Her heart ached at his words. Just moments ago, she had thought they were making some headway. How she wanted to believe it badly. But this? She didn't know what to make of it. He was unyielding. And back to his old self. She wanted so badly to reach out to him, to touch him. But she restrained herself.

"You do not have to face it alone. Whatever it is, we can confront it together. You cannot stand the feel of me? Is that it?"

Duncan whipped around with a ferocity that scared her. She didn't miss the storm in his piercing blue eyes. He cupped her face in his face, his touch gentle yet firm. A jolt of electricity coursed through her.

"Lucy, know this—I have no issue touching you." She felt the warmth of his hands, the intensity of his gaze. But she could see the conflict in his eyes. She would be blind not to.

"Yet, you still do not claim me," Lucy challenged, frustrated. "Why do you hold back?"

His eyes darkened and he drew her closer. His grip on her waist tightened and the warmth of his body enveloped her. "There is nothing I want more than to take you, to make you mine completely."

His voice was a rough whisper, gathering a pool of warmth in her belly. His words ignited a fire within her. "Then why do you hesitate?"

The silence stretched between them. His eyes bore into hers, a tumultuous blue that threatened to consume her. And consume he did as he closed the distance and kissed her with a fierceness that zipped shock right through her.

She stood frozen at first, shocked to the marrow, but then succumbed to his kisses, melting against him. Oh, how wonderful it felt to be in his arms. And if she didn't stop, she could pretend he loved her.

He kissed her deeply, their lips meeting in perfect sync. She felt all the anguish that was in his soul. His hand slid down her arm, capturing her hand in his and hooking both their hands in the small of her back.

Her body arched closer to his. His chest was as hard as a rock. Her bosom felt heavy. And deep in her belly was a heat that promised to swallow her whole.

He bit gently at her lower lip, urging her to open up to him. She obliged, feeling his tongue collide with hers in a sensual battle of mouths. They kissed and his every breath, every stroke of his tongue caressed his soul like a soothing balm.

"I need you," Duncan whispered harshly as his chest rose and fell.

Her body tingled all over. "Then take me. I am all yours."

And he scooped her up in his arms, wasting no time in getting her to his chamber. He laid her gently as one would handle an egg. She felt every bit as fragile as he made her feel. Taking an eyeful of her, he kissed her again, trailing his mouth down her neck.

His breath was hot against her skin, his tongue lapping and tasting her. They spoke not a word, only gazing into each other's eyes as Duncan unfastened the ties of her nightdress, loosening it as he slid it down her body. The fireplace was lit, illuminating the bedchamber and chasing the night chills. Yet, she shivered.

His eyes were heavy on her. Overcome with shyness, she hid herself, covering her breasts with her small palms.

"Don't," Duncan growled. "I want to see you, every inch of you. You will not deny me that, will you?"

Oh, she wanted this. How she had waited for this. But she preened under his intense gaze. It was her first time, after all. And he looked at her, his stormy eyes piercing her being as if looking for something only he knew.

And she knew when he knew, watched the exact moment realization dawned on him.

"You have not done this before." It was no question. It was a statement. She nodded, words failing her. And if it was possible, his eyes grew darker.

His hands caressed her breasts, stroking the sensitive buds. His thumbs teased lightly on her nipples. He stilled his hands and gazed up at her. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned and took her nipple in his mouth.

She wriggled against the silk sheets, heat flashing through her, threatening to burn her. "Duncan," his name left her mouth in a breathless whisper. His mouth was hot and moist against her. And she nearly melted when his tongue began to flicker against the swollen bud. She whimpered, arching her back and driving her breast deeper into his mouth.

He plagued one breast with his mouth while his hands worked magic on the other. His hands trailed to her hips and drew her to him and her thigh brushed against his hard length. Without a word, he slid off her and stripped off his pantaloons, ridding himself of every piece of clothing.

Her breath hitched at the sight of him; tall, muscled, and naked. His chest was broad and defined with a sprinkle of dark hair. And that beautiful chest narrowed to his waist, leading down to his manhood. She swallowed at the sight of it. He was a beauty to behold.

His skin glowed in the golden light of the candles. She wanted him. Needed him. She did not look away. His eyes were deep and dark and sensuous. And his lips descended on her again, demanding and giving.

Their bodies clung together. His ragged breathing sent a thrill of pleasure shooting through her. Her heart raced. And a wet warmth pooled between her legs. She lay, open and ready to receive him. And he slid into her silken heat, bit by bit.

Lucy gasped, adjusting to the foreign feeling. And when at last, she welcomed him fully into her, she marveled at the fullness she felt. She tried the dull throbbing and was rewarded as Duncan captured her lips, kissing her thoroughly. And finally, be moved, rocking her until she found her rhythm.

They moved together in a partnership, their breaths ragged and bodies slick with sweat. She was all too aware of this moment, this man. Duncan filled her senses, filled her body. She felt the remaining walls around her heart collapsing.

"Duncan," Lucy gasped, not quite understanding the sensations going on in her body. And then, she exploded, white-hot pleasure consuming every inch of her. "Lucy," Duncan growled. And she reveled in the warmth of his seed spilling into her.

His body buzzed with energy, a myriad of thoughts assaulting his senses. Lucy lay in his arms, her soft breaths slapping against his chest. It felt good. It felt right. How he had held off from her for this long was a surprise to him. He gazed at his bare hands, digesting the fact that he felt good. He felt no negativity. And he knew there was no going back.

"Duchess?"

"Yes, Duncan?" Hearing her call his name sent waves of pleasure rocking through him. Her soft voice and very naked body pressed against him sent all the blood rushing south.

"Mayhap, we should try for an heir. What do you say?" Duncan grinned mischievously.

Lucy paused, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Most certainly, Your Grace.