Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

" T is is a glorious day," Lucy sighed wistfully. If anything, the past couple of days had been glorious. It was nothing short of a dream. It was all she wanted and more. And the joy and peace in her heart were overflowing.

She had never been this happy before. In all her life, she never thought such happiness could exist. She had seen it with her parents. It was a different thing altogether seeing it happen to her. No wonder Mama and Papa were always in good spirits! She was so happy. She felt so light. And free!

She was grateful to experience this. She could have had a similar fate to Theodosia's. She could have ended up in a loveless marriage. Not like it didn't happen anyway. But by the heavens, they had come so far. And she was grateful for it.

"Tis indeed, Duchess. What a glorious day. And a glorious view."

Lucy blushed furiously, her face getting uncomfortably warm. She didn't miss the meaning behind his words. She couldn't even if she tried. Duncan smothered her with his intense gaze.

Getting flustered, she averted her gaze. It truly was a beautiful day. The morning sun bathed the estate in a golden glow, casting a soft light over the rolling hills and blooming gardens. They had taken a much-needed walk after being cooped up in Duncan's bedchamber for days. She was sure the servants were beginning to talk.

Now, Lucy and Duncan stood by the stables, the scent of fresh hay and the sound of horses neighing in the air. Duncan was saddling his stallion, a proud, ebony steed, while Lucy prepared her mare, a graceful, chestnut beauty when a thought popped into her head.

"Shall we take a ride, Your Grace?" Lucy asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Duncan looked up, a playful glint in his eye. "Indeed, Duchess. The day is perfect for it."

They mounted their horses, the cool morning breeze brushing against their faces as they set off down the winding path that led around the estate. The rhythmic clopping of hooves on the gravel was soothing, but she couldn't deny it – the air between them was charged. It was a newfound intimacy that shook her to her very core.

As they rode side by side, Duncan glanced at her, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was as if he was a different person altogether. Who would have thought that behind that austere personality was a caring, passionate, and attentive lover? And even better, jovial and playful? It was a refreshing change. And she was happy and proud to have been part of the reason for the change.

"I see you've still got that blush on your face, Duchess. Care to indulge me on what you must be thinking about?"

Oh, the nerve of the man. As if he wasn't the cause of it all. "It's just a sunny day, is all."

"Are you absolutely sure, Duchess?" Duncan cocked a mischievous brow.

"Most certainly, Your Grace."

"I must admit, Lucy, there is something quite exhilarating about riding with you."

She laughed, the sound light and joyful. "And what makes it so, Duncan?"

They were trotting at a peaceful pace now, and he leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. "The thought of what I might do to you once we return."

A furious blush crept up Lucy's cheeks again. She thought she might explode. She still wasn't used to this naughty, playful side of Duncan.

"Is that so? And what might those things be?"

He smirked, a devilish glint in his eye. "Oh, my dear, the list is rather extensive. But rest assured, each one is designed to bring you the utmost pleasure."

Her breath hitched at his words, the boldness of his admission sending a thrill through her. Memories of their nights assaulted her. She could already feel a warm buzz coursing through her. Duncan knew just the right things to say to get her off. And the accuracy with which he knew her body was scary at times.

Determined not to be outdone, she lifted her chin, a competitive spark igniting within her. "Well then, Your Grace, what say you to a little wager?"

Duncan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A wager, you say? Do elaborate, my dear."

Lucy's eyes twinkled with mischief. "A race. If you win, you may do as you wish with me."

He laughed, the sound rich and filled with genuine amusement. "And if you win, Duchess?"

She leaned in, her voice a sultry whisper. "If I win, you must confess your deepest desire to me."

Duncan's smile widened, his eyes darkening. "Very well, Duchess. You have yourself a wager. But be warned–I do not play fair."

Lucy grinned. "Then you might make a worthy opponent."

Her competitive spirit flared. Oh, she would give this husband of hers a challenge he wouldn't forget anytime soon.

They urged their horses forward, the beasts leaping into a gallop. The wind whipped through Lucy's hair, her laughter echoing in the open air. He could swear she was a vision sent from above to torture him.

Duncan rode alongside her, his stallion powerful and swift. They raced across the fields, the landscape blurring around them, neither man nor wife wanting to give up. Duncan pulled ahead, his stallion's hooves thundering against the ground. Lucy urged her mare on, lessening the gap between them. They rode hard, neck to neck as the horses' hooves thundered against the earth.

Duncan glanced at Lucy, his heart swelling at the sight of her laughter, her face alight with unbridled joy. "You're quite the rider, Duchess," he called over the wind, his voice filled with mirth.

She turned to him, her eyes sparkling. "And you, Your Grace, are not as slow as I expected," she teased, a playful challenge in her tone.

The thrill of the race coursed through Duncan's veins, a heady mixture of speed and adrenaline. For the first time in years, he felt unburdened, as though an enormous weight had been lifted off him. The wind whipped through his hair, the world a blur of vibrant colors and the intoxicating scent of blooming flowers.

Lucy's laughter was like music to his ears, her happiness infectious. She urged her mare forward, the horse responding with a burst of speed. "Come, Duncan! Do not fall behind!" she called, her voice filled with glee.

Duncan grinned, spurring his stallion onward. "I shall catch you, Lucy. Do not think you can outrun me."

The sheer joy of the moment was overwhelming, a rare and precious gift. Duncan felt lighter than he had in years, as if the shadows that had long haunted him were finally dispelled by the sunlight.

But then, in an instant, everything changed.

Lucy's mare stumbled on a patch of uneven ground. Her laughter turned to a gasp as she struggled to maintain her balance. His heart lurched as he watched her teeter, her arms flailing.

"Lucy!" he shouted, his voice thick with panic.

Time seemed to slow as she was thrown from the saddle, her body twisting in the air before hitting the ground with a sickening thud. The sound of the impact resonated in Duncan's ears, drowning out all other noise.

"Lucy!" Duncan's voice was a roar of panic as he reined in his horse, dismounting swiftly with a speed borne of sheer desperation.

"Lucy!" he cried again as he sprinted to her side. His heart pounded in his chest, fear gripping him like a vice. He dropped to his knees beside her, gathering her limp form into his arms.

"Lucy, speak to me," he urged, his voice choked with fear.

Her eyes fluttered open, pain etched across her face. "Duncan," she whispered, her voice weak and strained.

He cradled her head, his hands shaking. "Help! Someone, fetch the valet! Now!" he bellowed, his voice raw with desperation.

Memories assaulted him — Gertrude, lying pale and still in his arms, her life slipping away, the profound grief. He could not lose Lucy too. The thought was too unbearable to contemplate. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his mind a whirl of dread and helplessness.

"Stay with me, Lucy," Duncan pleaded, his voice breaking. "You will be all right. I promise."

But his eyes betrayed his words, wide and frantic. She was the only thing that kept him going, the only thing that gave him hope. She was so fragile, it terrified him. He brushed her hair back with trembling fingers, his touch gentle despite the fear coursing through him.

"Hold on, please.

"I…I'm here Duncan," she muttered weakly with a wince as she smiled. More like grimaced. Footsteps pounded towards them as the valet arrived in a flurry of movement.

"My goodness! What happened?"

"Where the bloody hell have you been, Robert?" Duncan snarled.

"I apologize, Your Grace. I came as fast as I could. Your Grace, what happened?" he asked, eyes wide with alarm.

The valet nodded, moving quickly to assist. Together, they lifted Lucy with as much care as they could muster, her body limp in their arms. Duncan's mind raced, fear tightening its grip around his heart like a vice.

"Everything will be all right," Duncan chanted, more to himself than to Lucy. "Everything will be all right, you'll see."

Who was he pretending to? Everything was not all right. And he wasn't sure it would be. It was all happening all over again. It was just like before. And in his mind's eye, he was no longer Duncan Elkins, the Duke of Northwick. He was little Duncan, with his little sister in his arms again. He could not unsee it, despite how hard he shook his head to rid it of the thought.

Terror plagiarized him. His hands trembled furiously. His brain felt foggy. He could swear he was walking on air. None of this felt real. But he couldn't deny the gash on Lucy's forearm that was dripping bright red blood.

He felt lightheaded. Unsettled. The contents of his stomach threatened to make their way back to the surface. His breaths came out in shallow spurts. All he saw was red. And all he saw was Gertrude.

Focus Duncan! This isn't about you. Get yourself together.

Yes. He had to get himself together. His wife needed him. This wasn't about him. This was about Lucy. And he needed to get his head straight.

"Your Grace?" The valet's voice grounded him back.

"I'm fine, Robert." But try as hard as he could, he was not fine. He held her hand tightly, fear clouding his eyes. "Unhand her," he instructed his valet, who immediately obliged. Duncan gathered her in his arms, resting her head on his chest as they hurried back to the manor.

"Fetch the doctor, Robert. At once!"

Duncan laid her gently on his bed as Lucy groaned. He knelt beside her, clutching her hand tightly as if his very life depended on it. He watched her, his heart aching. How had he let this happen?

He should never have agreed to the race. He should have talked her out of it. They should have never gone to the stables in the first place. The guilt gnawed at him with relentless torment. A wave of helplessness washed over him.

"Lucy, stay with me, please. I cannot lose you too."

Too? What was he on about? Why would he lose her?

"Duncan, I am right here. I am going nowhere," Lucy reassured him, but she could tell she wasn't doing a good job at it. His eyes were glassy as if he were staring at a ghost. She wondered if he could see her at all.

"Duncan, look at me. I am here with you." She ground her teeth at the pain that racked through her.

"I need you to be all right."

Duncan pressed his lips to her uninjured hand, her heart breaking at the sight. There was definitely more to this than her injuries. It was a mere scratch. It looked worse than it was. She wouldn't deny that she felt out of sorts though. But that was to be expected. She did take a tumble from the horse.

"I'll be fine, Duncan. Do not fret." But he only looked worse. She was troubled but she could only do so much.

"Your Grace, the physician," the valet announced.

"Your Grace," the balding older man greeted.

"Please, save her," Duncan implored. "My wife took a tumble from the horse. Do whatever it takes." Duncan moved aside, still not letting go of her hand. Lucy could only stare at him with wide eyes. Looking at Duncan, one would think she was going through the rigors of childbirth.

"It is not so much as His Grace makes it to be, really…"

"George, Your Grace," the physician told her.

"It is only a little cut on my arm and a nasty headache, is all."

"It is to be expected, Your Grace. I shall see to them immediately." He turned to Duncan. "If you don't mind, Your Grace, please step out of the room." Lucy stilled, watching with bated breath as Duncan's eyes turned to a stormy blue.

"You dare command me in my manor?" Duncan's voice was deceptively calm but she didn't miss the thunder in his eyes.

"N–no, Your Grace. I was only suggesting because–"

"I will not move an inch. Now get to work."

"Of course. As you wish, Your Grace."

The room was silent save for the murmur of quiet instructions and Lucy's labored breathing. The physician worked with careful precision, tending to Lucy's injuries as Duncan hovered nearby. She drifted in and out of consciousness, but she didn't miss the tremble in his hands, nor the way he stared at them. It was disturbing and she felt ill at ease, but was helpless to alleviate it.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the minutes ticking by with agonizing slowness as he felt weaker and weaker. The darkness called to her, but she fought it. Thoughts of Duncan weighed heavily on her mind.

Finally, the physician stepped back, his expression reassuring.

"She will recover, Your Grace, but she must rest."

Duncan merely nodded as the physician gathered his tools and left, leaving him alone with Lucy. He knelt beside her, clutching her hands in his. Her eyes widened in alarm as they still trembled.

"Duncan?" she muttered weakly.

"You must rest, Lucy."

"But–"

"Shhh," he breathed, squeezing her hand gently. "I was so afraid."

She tried to smile, to offer him some comfort. "I am here," Lucy said softly, though her strength was fading. "It is nothing to worry about."

"Rest now. I will be here when you wake."

It was all she needed to hear as she gave in to the darkness that consumed her immediately.

When Lucy woke again, the light had changed, casting long shadows across the room. She blinked, her mind slowly clearing from the haze of pain and exhaustion.

"Duncan?" she called softly, but the room was empty.

She struggled to sit up, wincing at the pain that shot through her body. "Duncan?" she called again, louder this time, but there was no response.

Panic began to creep in. She needed to see him. He needed to see that she was all right. With great effort, she reached for the bell pull beside the bed, summoning a maid.

The door opened, and a young maid entered. "You called for me, Your Grace?"

"Where is the duke?" Lucy asked, her voice edged with worry. "I need to speak with him."

"I do not know, Your Grace. He was here earlier but has since left." Dread settled in her gut.

"Left to where?"

"I'm afraid I do not know."

"What do you mean you do not know?!" Lucy near-screeched. Noticing the scared look on the maid's face, she called herself to order. "Have you seen my husband around?"

"No, Your Grace." Lucy exhaled a long breath.

"Ask everyone. There must be someone who knows of his whereabouts."

"I shall do just that. Do you need anything else, Your Grace?"

"No."

The maid scurried off to do as she was asked. With slow movements, Lucy struggled to sit up, wondering if she could get up to go look for Duncan herself. A knock sounded on the door and the maid trailed in again.

"Your Grace, I'm afraid no one has seen His Grace. I asked everyone but no one seems to know where the duke went."

Lucy's heart dropped. Something was terribly wrong.