by Unknown
Julia Fitzgerald!! Colin stumbled backwards. Julia and Quinn, sisters! And just moments ago he’d been indulging in a twisted, perverted, glorious fantasy of the two of them twined together, wrapping their long legs about him like nymphs around a maypole…
He flung up his arm, but yet again it had no effect. The sensual images continued to assault him. White flesh, blond hair, pink nipples -- four of them, winking at him, taunting him…
Colin groaned. He had to make it stop. Say something, anything. “Julia’s your sister?”
Quinn slapped him across the cheek. “Your wife.”
“Your sister.”
She slapped him again. “Your wife.”
“Your sister.”
“And your wife!”
She slapped him one more time, a stinging blow that made his eyes tear up. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them together.
“You don’t understand, Quinn! I know Julia…Miss Fitzgerald. We’re quite good friends, but she’s a governess. Why would I marry a governess? I’m a Duke!”
“Are you saying my sister isn’t good enough for you?” She pulled one hand from his grasp and poised it for another blow.
“No more slapping, please!” As a man, he couldn’t fight back. Although really, hadn’t he just been observing how ably she’d claimed the manly role? Did he have anything left in this relationship? “No! I’m saying she wouldn’t possess the fortune required to rescue the estate. That’s why I went to sea. I decided to make my own fortune rather than marry Chastity. And destiny brought me to you. If I were to marry anyone, surely it would be you.”
Quinn slumped onto the bed. Her face crumpled as she wailed, “But you can’t! You’re already married!” Pemberley shifted back and forth on his perch. He’d never liked hearing a woman cry. But Colin didn’t mind one bit. Finally, the tables had turned. He could do the masculine thing and comfort his tender darling. He sat next to her on the bed and put an arm around her.
“We’ll just see about that. We’ll go to Netherloin together and get to the bottom of this.”
Pemberley definitely snickered.
“Not that kind of bottom.” Colin hissed, rolling his eyes. Why must his parrot have such a dirty mind?
“But even if we do,” Quinn whispered, “It’s hopeless. You can never marry me.”
“Don’t tell me you’re married!”
“No, no, but … You’re a duke. I’m a ninja. It’s impossible.” She wiped a tear from her quivering cheek. Never had he seen her so tender, so … Julia-like. Really, the resemblance was remarkable.
“My love-nugget, Dukes can do anything they like. We’re one step down from royalty, don’t you know. Above Marquesses. Far above Viscounts.”
That seemed to perk her up. He had to admit he found this softer Quinn quite…arousing. As a matter of fact, she wasn’t the only thing perking up. She pushed him back on the bed and took his emboldened shaft in her hands.
“My sweet ducal dangle. My princely prick,” she murmured to his manhood. “My nearly-royal rapier. You’re the only netherloin I could ever need.”
He folded his hands behind his head and let her do as she wished to his lordly lance. A sigh of satisfaction eased from his lips.
Sometimes … it’s deuced good to be Duke.
Chapter Fifteen: Divulging the Duke’s Deception
In which our Newly Wed pair, returning to Netherloin in triumphant bliss, find Themselves caught in a Web of deception that won't End well
By Kate Davies
Julia placed the last of her garments in her reticule and fastened it, gazing about the room with a bit of sadness. She could not hold back the sigh that escaped her lips.
Her darling husband (husband! She had a husband!) looked up at her sad exhalation. "What is it, my duckling?"
She waved a delicate hand about, indicating the room. "It is just that I am sad to say goodbye to our little love nest," she said. "I shall miss being tucked away from the world, just the two of us. Colin and Julia."
He grimaced.
"Er, Julia and...Westley." She still did not quite understand his insistence on being called a different name. He had a perfectly good name of his own, after all.
But it was important that a wife do what she could to keep her husband happy. (Husband! She had a husband!)
"Thank you, my dearest." He took her hand and kissed the knuckles, sending a frisson of desire through her. "I shall miss our personal space as well."
She smiled. At least he'd stopped calling her that other woman's name. And, heaven forbid, the name of his ferret. She still wasn’t sure what exactly a ferret was, but she was quite sure she would not be pleased with the comparison once she did figure it out. Honoring her husband's (HUSBAND'S!) quirks was one thing; giving over her own right to keep her Christian name was another thing altogether.
She was willing to be as docile and subservient as he wanted, but that was a line she'd never cross.
"But it is time for us to return to the real world," he continued, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and turning toward the door. "We have duties. I think. Do we not?"
She looked at him curiously. "But of course, milord," she said. "You have your responsibilities as the Duke, which you have been training for since childhood."
"Quite right," he mumbled, inspecting the doorframe with an air of indifference.
"And I have quite neglected Ward," she added.
"Oh, no, my pigeon!" Colin-Westley stopped dead in the middle of the room. "You are no longer responsible for anything related to the nursery. You are a duchess, after all!"
Julia blinked. She supposed he was right. No longer a governess - with their marriage, she'd traded in all those responsibilities for the life of a duchess.
What were her new responsibilities, anyway? She frowned. Likely hiring a new governess would be one of them.
Poor Ward. He would miss her terribly.
"Come, my dear," Westley-Colin said, steering her toward the door again. "We must return to Netherloin and share the delightful news of our nuptials."
Oh, yes. Netherloin. The idea of telling Willoughby and Lady Chastity that they'd eloped filled Julia with dread. But with her husband (yes, HUSBAND) by her side, she could face anything.
Westley, pretender to the—well, not really throne, was it? The seat? Yes, that would do—the seat of Netherloin, would have been happy to wait another day or two.
His time with Julia at the quaint little country inn had been truly delightful, in more ways than one. Mostly under the bedcovers. But duty called, and he was ready to respond.
Also, he was a little hungry. And the kitchen at Netherloin was one of his favourite things about being a duke.
The carriage turned onto the long, winding road to the estate, bumping and shuddering over the rough terrain. First order of business, Westley decided, was to have the road repaired.
Or perhaps just add new springs to the carriage. That might be less dear.
Suddenly, the carriage pulled to a precipitous halt, causing his Duchess (he had a Duchess!) to tumble off her seat. Landing with a most unladylike “Oof!”, she glared up at him as if her current position was his fault.
Which, as far as he could tell, it was decidedly not.
Murmuring gentle words to her, much as he would have calmed Brigid in a similar state (and he certainly needed to locate his darling ferret as soon as he returned to Netherloin. Why, she must be quite as hungry as he was!), he reached down a hand and tugged her off the floor. Returning her to the cushion next to him, he said, “Allow me to determine what has interfered with our progress, dear,” and opened the carriage door to look out.
It was a most confusing scene that greeted his gaze. His driver was in a heated argument with a young boy who looked rather familiar.
“But I must speak with His Grace,” the child protested loudly. “ ’Tis a matter of life and death!”
Westley frowned. That certainly did not sound promising.
“Wa
rd?” Julia poked her head out of the carriage directly below Westley’s arm and stared at the lad. “Whatever are you doing here?”
“Trying to save—” Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the sound of thundering hooves as some of Willoughby’s men rode up the drive. As far as Westley could tell, Ward heaved a sigh at their appearance, which made no sense at all, for what boy didn’t love a man in uniform upon a fancy steed?
The lead horseman drew to a halt in front of the carriage and sketched a bow. “Your presence is requested at Netherloin,” he said haughtily.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Westley replied. “That’s where we were headed, after all. Lead the way, my good man.”
He ducked back into the carriage, bringing Julia with him, and after a pause Ward leapt in after them. Once they were all settled, he and Julia on one cushion, Ward on the one opposite, Westley tapped the roof of the carriage and the driver set them in motion once again.
“How exciting! An escort back to Netherloin.” Julia reached across the carriage and patted Ward on the knee. “And you coming to greet us as well. Thoughtful of you, my dear.”
“It wasn’t thoughtful, it was—”
“But how did you all know we were returning today?” Julia looked at Westley-Colin with an exasperated smile. “Did you set all this up, my Duke-ling? A welcome home to remember?”
“No, my dearest, it was not my idea. Though I wish it had been, now that I see the delight on your face.” He winked at her. “Delight I have not seen since last night, when we tried that one thing with the feather and the—”
Julia coughed loudly. “Not in front of the children, husband!” She nodded sharply at Ward, even while her inner voice crowed once again about how excellent it was to have a husband.
“You are married?”
She looked over at Ward, who did not seem nearly as enthusiastic about their nuptials as she might have expected.
Oh, well. Perhaps he was just saddened at the loss of his governess. Poor soul.
“Please do not be inconsolable, dear Ward,” she said, patting his knee again. “Do not fret. I will still visit you in the nursery when I can. And I am sure your new governess will be almost as nice as I am.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Of course, I shall be far better dressed by then,” she added brightly. “For the wife of a duke must be clothed in the first stare of fashion.”
“And so you shall,” her darling husband interjected. “As long as we have the money for it. Which I am not quite sure we do.”
“Oh. That does present a difficulty.” Julia pondered on it for a moment. “Well, you are quite clever, my husband. I am sure you shall come up with something.”
He squinted thoughtfully. “Perhaps I could return to my former profession,” he mused. “Just for a short while, until we are comfortably settled.”
“You see!” Julia clapped her hands and bounced on the carriage cushion. “I knew you would come up with a plan.” She frowned. “Wait, what profession?”
“That’s the problem,” Ward said with a note of desperation in his voice. “They know about—”
“Err…” Westley-Colin snapped his mouth shut and gestured out the window of the carriage. “Look, our very own welcoming committee!”
“Oh, my goodness,” Julia said, leaning past him to gawk at the gathered crowd. “How excited they must be, to welcome back their Duke and new Duchess!”
“You have no idea,” Ward muttered, slumping back in his seat. “If only you had let me talk, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Julia patted him fondly on the head. “Oh, what silly ideas you have, Ward! Don’t you know that children should be seen and not heard? We can see you quite well indeed, and have no need to hear you.”
“I give up,” Ward said, tossing up his hands in defeat.
Julia nodded approvingly. “That’s better, dear.”
The carriage drew to a halt in the center of the courtyard, where indeed a crowd had gathered. Julia was surprised and not a little touched that even Lady Chastity had turned out to greet them. How unchristian of her to think the lady would be still angry at the turn of events that had taken her husband away and given him to Julia, she mused. Clearly, she had set aside her disappointment to do the neighborly thing.
Their driver alighted and opened the carriage door, and Colin-Westley gestured at Ward. “Would you like to disembark first, young man?”
“Oh, no,” Ward muttered, sinking back into the corner of the carriage. “You go right ahead.”
“Very well.” Westley leapt down from the carriage, cutting quite a dashing figure as he turned and swept a bow towards the crowd. “Good day, my fine people! I have a surprise for you that I daresay you will be thrilled about. May I present to you Her Grace, the Duchess of Earl?”
Julia blushed as she put her hand in his and stepped down from the carriage. “I know some of you may be shocked at the news,” she began. “But true love does conquer all.”
“There he is!” Willoughby’s voice rang out over the courtyard. Julia stared up at him, atop the stairs to the entryway.
Really, that was quite rude, to interrupt her Speech of Triumphant Return in such a gauche manner. Didn’t everyone already know Westley-Colin was standing right in front of all of them? Honestly.
“Guards! Seize him!”
Julia’s mouth dropped open as she was rudely elbowed aside by a rather large man in uniform, who grabbed one of her husband’s arms. The other was held firmly by another large man.
“I say, chaps,” the Duke said, tugging ineffectually at his captors. “This is a passing strange way to greet your lord and master.”
“You are no lord and master,” Lady Chastity called out over the murmurs of the crowd. Her face was a twisted mask of bitterness and glee. “You are an imposter!”
“What?” Julia turned to her husband in astonishment. “My dear, refute her immediately!”
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Which was also passing strange, as he did so love to talk. And talk. And talk.
“He cannot,” the uncle said with a sneer. “Because it is the truth, isn’t it, Westley?”
The Duke clamped his mouth shut again.
Julia leaned in, her eyes wide with shock. “How does he know your pet name,” she whispered fiercely.
“He is no Duke,” Lady Chastity continued in a shrill voice. “He is just a man who looks like our dear departed Duke. He has taken poor Colin’s place in the hopes of inheriting what belongs to another man.”
“What are you saying?” Julia stepped closer to her husband, or as close as she could get, what with him being surrounded by the uncle’s men. “My beloved Westley—I mean Colin—is no imposter!”
“Aha!” Lady Chastity pointed an accusing finger at Julia. “She knows!”
“Knows what?”
“His true name!”
Julia glanced up at her husband helplessly. Why was he not denying these baseless accusations?
He would not meet her eyes, instead scuffing his toe in the dirt and whistling. Whistling! At a time like this!
The uncle took a step towards them. “This pretender, this vile usurper, has taken advantage of his cunning likeness to the true Duke and stepped into his place in Colin’s absence. He is no duke, but a highwayman – the Dread Highwayman Roberts!”
“What?” Julia pressed one hand to her trembling mouth. It could not be true!
On the other hand, it would explain so many things…
“And what has become of the missing Duke, hmmm?” Lady Chastity stomped delicately across the courtyard and stood in front of Westley—Colin—whatever his name was, hands on her hips. “What have you done with my loving fiancé, you horrible fiend?”
“I didn’t do anything to him. I’ve never met the man!” Westley-Colin clamped his mouth shut as awareness of what he’d just said descended. “I mean…”
The crack of a hand across his face echoed loudly around the court
yard, stunning everyone into silence.
Well, most everyone.
“I say, that was quite uncalled for,” the maybe-fake-Duke protested. “What did I ever do to you?”
She snarled at him, “My name is Lady Chastity. You killed my fiancé. Prepare to die!”
“Pardon?”
The uncle, now descended from the stairs, stood in the center of the courtyard and raised his hands. “It is my contention that this man disposed of the true Duke in order to deceive us all and take his place. Therefore, he shall be placed under arrest until such a time that he can be sentenced to hang for murder. Guards, take him away!”
All Julia could do was watch in horror as her husband, the man she loved, was summarily marched into Netherloin, likely to be placed in the dungeon. But who was that man? Was he Colin, the Duke she’d loved from afar for so long? Or was he truly an imposter?
The crowd began to disperse as the excitement faded, Lady Chastity sweeping into Netherloin on the arm of Uncle Willoughby. Finally Julia was alone.
Or almost. For once the crowds had disappeared, Ward crept out of the carriage, slipping to his governess’s side.
“Oh, Ward,” she said with a sob, resting one hand on his shoulder. “What an absolute disaster! How am I to bear it? If only…”
“What?” He looked at her askance.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I just wish we could have had some warning that this was going to happen.”
Ward made a strangled sort of sound, causing Julia to narrow her eyes at him.
Really, he needed to stop grimacing like that or his face was going to freeze that way.
Chapter Sixteen: Siblings Reunited, The Forces of Phisicks O’erturned