The Duke's Dilemma (13 page)

‘Do you intend to leave the shutters closed in
the main part of the house or open them each morning to give the impression we
are living as usual?’

He didn’t answer stretched out his legs,
crossing his ankles and staring at the toes of his polished boots as if he
suspected they had sprung a leak. She waited for a moment, believing he hadn’t
heard her polite enquiry and prepared to repeat it. ‘Ralph, I asked if you ...’
The words dried in her mouth as his head swung towards her and she saw the
predatory gleam in his eyes.

He was playing games with her, had sat so far
away in order to spring his trap when she least expected it. She sprang to her
feet believing she could escape into the safety of her bedchamber. She was too
slow. Before she had time to take a step he was beside her, his bulk
obstructing the path, solid as a wall.

It had been her intention to pass by, asking
him icily to step aside. But he didn’t touch her, didn’t speak, just stood
there, inches away, waiting for her to move. A strange heat
spiralled
from her toes to her breasts. She
had stood as close to gentlemen before, but all she’d been aware of was their
body
odour
, the smell
of alcohol or tobacco on their persons, never had she wanted to close the gap.

She swayed and as she did so his arms grasped
her and her feet left the floor as he lifted her until she was on a level with
him. All thoughts of protest evaporated under the heat they were generating.
Her hands inched upwards, over his chest, until they reached the strong column
of his neck. Her thumbs paused under his jaw and his pulse pounded beneath her
fingertips – knowing she was the cause of his excitement filled her with
elation.

This released the last of her inhibitions and
forgetting all she had been told about the dangers of allowing a gentleman to
take liberties with her person, she buried her fingers in his hair, tilting her
head to give him access to her lips.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his mouth burned an
imprint on hers; at first the pressure was gentle, his lips firm on hers, but
then she was crushed closer, felt something hard pressing into her stomach. Her
lips softened and he deepened the kiss; his tongue slid along her lips sending
waves of pleasure around her.

 
She
strained closer, wanting something more, not certain exactly what. With
something resembling a groan he twisted his long body on to the
chaise-longue
bringing her down with him
so she lay trapped by his weight against the high padded back.

Her head was whirling; he removed his mouth and
began to trail soft, hot kisses down her cheek, her jaw, and lower still until
he was kissing the curve of her breasts. The bodice of her gown was too tight,
in fact all her clothes were constricting; she longed to remove them and feel
her flesh and his meld together. He was pushing down the shoulder of her gown,
continuing his exploration, she thought she’d go mad from the heat that burned
inside her.

Suddenly the stair door crashed back and a
hundredweight of jealous canine launched himself across the room, teeth barred,
a terrifying growl rumbling in his throat. In one smooth movement Ralph was on
his feet and standing behind the day-bed, breathing heavily and backing away
from the dog.

Hester felt the hot wet tongue of her pet on
her nakedness and the heat of passion evaporated. ‘Get off, you stupid dog. Get
down, let me adjust my clothing.’
 
She
heard a door further along the hall slam shut. He had retreated to his
bedchamber; she wasn’t sure if she was angry or relieved by Jet’s sudden
intervention.

 
However,
as her head cleared she realized they both owed the animal a debt of gratitude.
They had been making love in public; anyone could have come upstairs and caught
them; her good name would have been besmirched and Ralph’s
honour
gone, even marriage would not have removed the stain.

Such things were only supposed to be done
between married couples and then only in the privacy of their bedchamber. It
was as though an icy pail of snow poured over her head; shamed by her wanton
behaviour
she scrambled to her feet and ran to the
bedchamber she was sharing with Birdie.

Jet flopped down outside the bedroom door
presumably content he’d done his duty and saved his beloved mistress from
disgrace.

Chapter
Thirteen

Hester lay still staring up at the sloping
ceiling unable to think where she was. Then there was a flicker of candlelight
and she knew.

‘Birdie, is that you?’

A soft chuckle greeted her comment. ‘It is
indeed, my dear, who might you be expecting at one o’clock in the morning?’

‘Goodnight, Birdie, I’ll talk to you in the
morning.’

An hour passed and she tried to suppress her overwhelming
desire to empty her bladder. Eventually she accepted the inevitable, she would
have to get up and find a chamber pot if she wished to sleep any more that
night. There was one placed discreetly behind a lacquer screen in the far
corner of the room, but she couldn’t bear the thought of using that with Birdie
in the other bed. No, she would have to venture outside her bedchamber and find
somewhere else.

She slipped out, then pushing her feet into
slippers and taking her robe in one hand, she crept towards the door. There was
sufficient light from the glowing embers in the fireplace for her to see her
way. She pulled open the door and hesitated.

Her toes bumped the recumbent form of her dog
stretched out like a hearthrug across the door. Thank goodness she hadn’t
stepped straight out or she’d have tripped over him and roused the entire
household. After pulling the door behind her she waited for her eyes to adjust
to the darkness.

The large grate on the far side of the room had
been replenished with coal and she crossed to the fire. Removing a candlestick
from the mantelshelf she lit it from the embers. Jet, was happy to have
company; he padded after her, nosing her thigh and making a low rumble of
greeting in his throat.

 
‘Shush, silly
boy. I can hear you. I have to go downstairs - I suppose you’ll come with me,
and I shall be grateful of the company.’ Hester knew the best place to look for
relief would be in the main part of the house. It would mean first finding her
way in to the freezing grand hall and then to a small anteroom in which she was
certain there was somewhere suitable.

Descending the stairs was no problem and she
was glad the dog was close beside her, the nearer she got to the bottom, and
the further away from the others, the more nervous she felt. Remembering what
had happened the last time she’d emerged unexpectedly from similar stairs she
stopped, pushed on the door and sent her pet ahead.

He bounded through and stood head to one side,
tail wagging, waiting for her to join him. The passage wasn’t cold but she knew
venturing in to the main part of the house would be decidedly unpleasant.

On impulse she slipped along to the boot room
and removing a cloak, slipped her feet
 
into the nearest pair of clogs. Her candle flickered and wavered on the
shelf as she tied the ribbon at the neck and pulled the hood over her head. The
dog watched her with growing excitement. ‘No, I’m not going outside, not in the
middle of the night. You’ll just have to wait until the morning.’
 
She reached down and stroked his head. ‘I
suppose if you must you’ll find a corner somewhere.’ She smiled to herself
knowing it would be more sensible for her to relieve herself the same way.

After picking up her candlestick she walked
along the passage to the door that led into a main thoroughfare. On pushing it
open an icy gust of wind tore past her extinguishing her candle.

Paralysed
by fear she flattened herself against the
wall, believing she was in the presence of an evil spirit. What else would
create such a blast when all the shutters and windows were closed?

She clenched her jaw to stop her teeth from
clattering. Then a cold nose pressed impatiently into her hand and her breath
hissed through her teeth. ‘I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I? If there was anything
supernatural in the house you would be the first to detect it.’ Reassured by
the dog she gathered her wits and tried to visualize how far it was to the
grand hall where she might be able to relight her candle. Her mouth curved a
little, she already had the perfect guide.

‘Come along, old fellow, you lead me to the
hall.’
 
She twisted her fingers in to his
ruff and pressed close to his side. He seemed to understand and immediately
moved forward. She kept at his side, letting him take her along the inky
corridor to where she would find what she so desperately needed.

 
After a
few minutes she thought she saw a flicker of light ahead - good, the fire must
still be burning, the tree trunks alight. She shivered as another icy draught
swirled around her feet. She was pleased she’d had the forethought to add an
extra layer to her night clothes; this side of the house was freezing, her face
was unpleasantly chilled.

They were almost into the hall when she
stopped. It was too cold - there could be no fire burning here. Her skin
prickled. If the fire was out, what was the light she had seen?

She whispered to her dog. ‘Jet, do you think it
safe? You’re not growling, your hackles are down, so have I nothing to worry
about?’ The dog nudged her and the sudden movement almost made her lose control
of her bladder. She had to find a retiring room such, she would worry about the
light afterwards.

 
Not
pausing to light a candle, just using her excellent sense of direction, she
turned towards the door and, with one hand trailing across the
panelled
walls, continued round the hall until she came to
the door she needed. ‘Wait here, Jet, I’ll only be a moment.’

Inside it was so dark, far worse than being in
the stairwell. She recalled there was a tinderbox and candlestick inside the
door. Could she manage to do this by touch alone? Eventually she created a
spark and the fluff burnt brightly, long enough for her to relight her candle.
She lit a second candle and placed her own next to the privy.

Her clothing readjusted, comfortable at last,
forgetting about the icy blasts and the strange light, she stepped out,
remembering to snuff out the spare candle. She expected her dog to be waiting
but he wasn’t there. The single candle failed to illuminate the area and as
there was no red glow coming from the massive grate she only had a single
flickering flame to guide her back.

‘Jet. Jet, where are you? Come here, boy.’ Her
voice sounded loud in the emptiness. There was no response. Should she call
again? She leaned against the wooden walls and her candlestick wavered in the
darkness.

Would it be sensible to wait for Jet?
Unexpectedly the sound of the dog barking as if he was trapped inside the very
walls echoed around the deserted hall. Grabbing her skirts she fled. Her mind
was racing, wild thoughts of ghosts and hobgoblins uppermost. Her beloved dog
had been taken this time and trapped forever in the fabric of the building. Hot
tears trickled down her cheeks, but she ignored them, just wanting to reach
Ralph and the sanctuary of his arms.

*

The frantic tapping on his door dragged Ralph
from a fitful slumber in which he had been chasing his love through the mist
and no matter how fast he ran she always remained out of his grasp.

‘Ralph, Ralph, let me in, please let me in. Jet
has been taken. The ghosts have got him.’

Christ in his Heaven! What disaster had
occurred this time? In one fluid movement he rolled out of bed and threw open
the door. Hester fell into his arms.

‘What is it sweetheart? You’re shaking. Come
in, quickly, before you wake everyone.’

Leaving the door fully open, his wits had not
quite forsaken him, he gathered her near, loving the feel of her wet face on
his naked chest. He stroked her back, murmuring soothing nonsense to her until
she calmed.

‘Ralph! You’ve no clothes on.’

‘And you, my love, have on far too many.’ His
passion fuelled brain cleared as the significance of her garments registered.
‘Why are you in clogs and a cloak? Good God! You’ve not been outside?’

She wriggled free and stepped across to stand
in front of the fire. ‘Of course not. I went downstairs to … Well I needed to
go into the hall and Jet came with me.’ Her voice faltered and there were fresh
tears in her eyes. ‘He’s vanished, Ralph. The ghosts took him. One minute he
was there the next I could hear him barking in the walls. He’s been spirited
into the fabric of the house to bark and growl for eternity.’

If she hadn’t looked so wretched he would have
laughed at her nonsense. ‘I’m sure there’s a rational explanation, my love. Sit
by the fire whilst I make myself presentable, then you can explain exactly what
happened.’

He pulled on his breeches and shirt, hastily
pushing in the tail, then grabbed his boots and rammed his bare feet straight
in. He smiled grimly - the last time he’s had to dress in such a hurry had been
in Spain
when his brigade had come under attack form a bunch of renegade
Frenchies
.

Decent, he turned back to face the young woman
who had been watching his every move with obvious interest. He felt a second
surge of desire but forced it down. There would be plenty of time when things
returned to normal.

‘Tell me, darling girl, what frightened you?’

‘I already told you, I went downstairs and Jet
vanished, only his ghostly barking left behind.’

He attempted to hide his smile and failed – she
was not pleased by his levity.

‘Sometimes, Waverley, I wish I’d never made
your acquaintance. It’s no laughing matter; my dog’s gone and all you can do is
snigger.’ She tossed her head and her eyes flashed.

In two strides he was beside her. Forgetting
the reason she was there he lifted her in to his arms and closed her mouth with
his. For an instant she resisted but then melted against him and he was lost.
Her gentle pressure on his chest forced him to release her.

‘Ralph, you cannot keep doing this. There are
more important matters for us to attend to.’ She gazed at him, her lovely face
flushed with passion and he ached to consummate their love, forget the danger
and lose himself in her. She saw his expression change and understood.

‘No, Ralph, this is neither the time nor the
place. I shall wait outside for you.’ Wisely not remaining to hear his response
she stalked out giving him vital minutes for his passion to subside. He doused
his face in cold water from the jug on the night stand and pulled on his top-
coat.The
make-shift sitting room was ablaze with candles,
she hadn’t been idle these past minutes.

‘Hester, I must beg your forgiveness, yet
again, for …’

She raised her hand. ‘I’m as much to blame as
you.
 
Now I’m here, safe with you …’ Her
lips twitched as she said this and he felt his groin responding. ‘I think I
might have over reacted and there must be a sensible explanation, although I
cannot think what it might be.’

‘Go back to bed, sweetheart, I’ll wake the rest
of the men and well search downstairs. You’ll come to no harm whilst I’m here,
I promise you.’

*

‘Next time, perhaps you’ll overcome your
scruples and use the facilities in here,’ Miss Bird said wryly as Hester
climbed back in bed.

‘I know, it was foolish of me but I didn’t want
to wake you. Jet has been stolen away and it’s my fault.’ She blew out the
candle and pulled the comforter over her head hoping her companion would offer
no comment.

‘Whatever you might think, my dear, however
much the evidence points to the contrary, I’m not convinced these mysterious
disappearances have anything to do with the supernatural. Think about it, no
one has actually
seen
a ghostly
presence; there have been no white shapes floating in the air, no moaning and
clanking of chains, have there?’

‘No, I suppose not. But my dog has vanished and
I heard him barking but he couldn’t get to me.’

The bed creaked as Birdie settled down again.
‘But it’s far more likely that he’s got himself shut into a cupboard. Don’t
fret, my dear, Waverley will discover him, if not tonight, then tomorrow when
it’s light.’

In
sombre
mood Hester
accompanied her friend downstairs at dawn next morning. The two girls were also
unusually quiet. Perhaps the missing dog was upsetting them too. No-one had had
much sleep and all were ready to start at the slightest sound.

‘Meg, get the range burning and I’ll make us a
hot drink. Polly, finish off the bread and get it into the oven as soon as it’s
hot enough,’ Birdie said.

‘What shall I do, Birdie? It’s too dark to go
outside and I don’t wish to stand around idle whilst everyone else is busy.’

‘If you must do something, my dear, take the
candle down to the root cellar and fill up the basket with a selection of
vegetables for today’s meals.’

Hester wanted to refuse; having no wish to go
into the dark on her own after all that had happened. Knowing this was
irrational but she wasn’t entirely convinced their problems were caused by
anything mortal. She sighed. Everyone else was busy – there was no choice, all
must do their part today.

The stone steps to the cellar were cold and she
wished she’d thought to put on clogs for her indoor shoes had thin soles were
not suitable for this task. The cellar was icy – the bitter wind
spiralling
through a gap in the external
trapdoors. Placing her candle on the shelf she unhooked the basket from its
nail and began to rummage amongst the vegetables. The pile was mountainous and
in the feeble flickering light she couldn’t tell a potato from a mangel-wurzel,
whatever that might be. The sooner this unpleasant job was over, the quicker
she could return.