Bertrice Small - The Duchess

"I'd like to love you," Hawkins said slyly to Honor.

"When you do your duty better," Honor said, "we'll see if I let you walk out with me."

"Didn't say nothing about walking out," Hawkins replied.

"Then you'll not be loving me. I'm a proper girl, Hawkins, and best you understand that right now," Honor answered him. Then with a flounce of her skirts she was off.

***

In the little drawing room Allegra wrote her note to Caroline and Eunice. She dispatched it with a footman, and returned upstairs to where her husband lay. Supper was brought. Cook had followed the duchess's instructions. There was a thick, rich soup which Allegra fed to her husband, sitting on the side of the bed as she spooned it into his mouth. Then she coaxed him to eat a bit of capon with some bread and butter. And finally the cook had provided a silken egg custard that the duke very much enjoyed. And when her husband had been fed, Allegra sat down at a small table and ate her own supper as Quinton watched, slowly sipping a glass of ruby port as he did so.

A footman came, and cleared the dishes away. Then Honor helped her mistress to prepare for her bed. When she was washed and in her nightgown and cap, Allegra dismissed her maidservant for the night. Wrapping a lacy shawl about herself she sat down by the fire.

"Come to bed," the duke said softly.

"Shortly," she replied.

"Why do you sit by the fire?" he asked her.

"So I may have the privacy to say my prayers," Allegra responded. "I pray each morning and each evening, Quinton."

"Who taught you to do that?" he wondered aloud. "You had no mother."

"Papa taught me. He said that one day I would have children of my own, and it would be my duty to teach them to pray to our creator. Didn't your mama teach you and George to pray before she died?"

"I think I remember her with me, but George was too young," he replied.

For several minutes the room was silent but for the crackle of the fire. Finally Allegra arose, and snuffing out all the candles in her bedchamber climbed into bed next to her husband. "There," she told him, snuggling into his arms.

"What do you pray for?" he asked her, curious.

"For us. For you. For our family. For children," she said. "We must strive harder, Quinton, for our children."

"Madame, I am more than willing to answer your prayers," he said with mock seriousness.

She giggled. "Do not be sacrilegious," she tried to scold, but she suddenly found herself being kissed as he cradled her beneath him. "Ohh, Quinton!" She sighed, and kissed him back fervently.

Lilacs. She always smelled of lilacs, and it intoxicated him. His hand caressed her heart-shaped face. "Whatever made me believe I would not fall in love with you, Allegra? How could I not love you, my darling?" His silvery-gray eyes devoured her. "I have learned that I could not live without you, Allegra. You have become the very reason for my existence." His lips descended upon hers again, and he felt her melting into his arms. His fingers undid the ribbons on her nightgown's neck, loosening it, and his hand slipped between the fabric and her skin as he moved to cup one of her small breasts in his palm. He fondled her, and felt her heart beat more quickly.

She loved him, Allegra thought as his hand aroused her passions. Oh yes, she loved him, but when she tried to tell him she could not quite manage the words. Oh, she had said it to him once, but she wanted to tell him more, except her tongue became tangled. He could not live without her? She could not live without him. She could not even imagine her life without Quinton Hunter. Allegra pushed her thoughts aside, and concentrated on the wonderful feelings that he could kindle within her. She sighed, and moved against him, letting him know that she loved everything that he was doing to her, and that she wanted more. For a moment she struggled from his embrace, and pulled off her nightgown and cap. Then she lay back against their pillows, her look inviting.

He responded in kind, drawing his own nightshirt off, then leaned forward to kiss her adorable breasts. One hand kneaded her while his mouth attached itself over the other nipple and he suckled. She writhed and murmured beneath him, stoking his passions until he knew exactly what he wanted from her tonight. Something he had never dared to do with her, but he needed to initiate her completely into this passion. Raising his dark head from her milky white breasts he said, "I don't want you to be afraid, Allegra." Then his head dropped again and he began to kiss her body.

His lips moved slowly, slowly over her torso. Sometimes his tongue snaked out to lick at her warm flesh. She murmured with pleasure. The dark head moved lower and lower down her lush young body. He cupped her dark mont in his palm. The thick dark curls were soft against his palm. Releasing her from the intimate grip he fingered her nether lips, teasing, and playing with her until she began to squirm slightly and grow moist beneath his touch. The ball of his forefinger found the tiny bud of her sex. He caressed it until she was moaning aloud. He slid his large body down until he was firmly between her open thighs.

"Quinton?" Her voice registered fear.

"Don't be afraid, Allegra," he pleaded, and then leaning forward he began to tongue that quivering little nub of flesh.

Her body arced up in shock, but he held her tightly so she could not escape him. She was at first scandalized by what he was doing. She had never in her wildest imaginings conceived that this… this was part of passion. And yet she very quickly decided that she liked it. Oh yes! She liked it very much. Her body quivered. That tiny part of her that she hadn't really known existed tingled and tingled until it seemed to burst into a blanket of deliciousness that covered her and left her weak and breathless. "Oh, please," she murmured helplessly.

He pulled himself up, covering her trembling form, and slowly pushed himself into her love sheath. "God, Allegra," he groaned. "I want you so desperately!"

He was so hard, she thought. She could feel each stroke of his manhood with every fiber of her being. She felt herself tightening about his lance, trying to keep him from leaving her. "Don't stop!" she begged him. "Ohh, Quinton, I want you so very much!" Her nails dug into his muscled shoulders, and she pushed her tongue into his ear. Her legs wrapped themselves tightly about his straining form. "Ohhh, sweet! Sweet!" she cried as they together approached nirvana.

"Ahh, you precious witch, you have unmanned me!" he told her as his boiling tribute poured forth, and they collapsed together in a tangle of arms and legs. They lay still entwined for several long minutes amid the wreckage of their bedclothes, their breathing finally slowing and calming. And then the duke sneezed.

"Oh, lord." Allegra scrambled from their bed, and grabbed up his nightshirt. "Put this on, Quinton, else I kill you with my love." She caught up her own night garment and quickly pulled it over herself.

He began to laugh as he complied with her order.

"What is so funny?" she demanded, climbing back into the bed, and pulling the covers up over them.

"I am so damned happy," Quinton Hunter told her. "A year ago when the four of us decided we must find wives and finally settle down, my darling Allegra, I never imagined, no, I never even dared to hope that I should be this happy. I have never been happier in my whole life, and it is all due to you, my darling. It is all due to you."

"You are a fool, Quinton," she told him, but her own heart was soaring with happiness.

"I love you," he said. "And you love me."

"I suppose I do," she grudgingly admitted.

He laughed again. "Say it, you adorable witch! Say you love me, and you will never love anyone else but me."

"I do, and I won't," she teased him mischievously.

"Say it, damnit." He rolled over to face her, his look fierce.

Her heart melted then and there. "I love you, Quinton Hunter, and I always will," she said softly. "I expected a comfortable arrangement and a mutual respect. I never expected to know this phenomenon that is called love. I still don't understand it, but I seem to love you dearly, Quinton. Now are you satisfied, and will you go to sleep before you become truly sick?"

"Yes, Duchess," he said, and then taking her hand in his, he finally fell asleep.

WINTER AND SPRING 1796
A DANGEROUS GAME

The day had arrived for Allegra's at home reception. Not one of the two thousand invitations that had been sent out had been refused. Allegra was relieved that it was midwinter, for if it had been the height of the season, she might have had double or triple the acceptances. People were expected to come, remain for fifteen minutes, no more, and leave their cards if they could not personally manage to greet the duke and the duchess, which most would not. Since no refreshments or music would be required, there would be little preparation except for the tall footed columns with their urns of flowers scattered about the gracious foyer and public rooms. Roses and sweetstock, lilies, tulips, narcissus, iris, and daffodils, all brought up from Lord Morgan's greenhouses in the country. The arrangements were lush and colorful.