The Duke's Revenge

by Alexia Praks

  She put two tablespoon of sugar into her cup, and thought that, too, must be very expensive indeed since it was very white. She stirred the warm liquid and sipped it. It was smooth and delicious.

  “Mrs. Woods is a great cook. I always enjoy a hearty meal from her,” he said, staring at her as she bit onto the hot roll.

  “She is a good cook,” Ivy said timidly with a slight nod. “Mrs. Johnson would love to exchange recipes with her. I must ask Mrs. Woods to show me how to make this hot roll.” She turned to her tea again and sipped the brown liquid. Because her hands were shaking and because he was staring at her most intensely which made her nervous, she over-tipped the cup near her mouth. The liquid ran down her lip. She nervously licked it with her small tongue, and with hands that was still shaking, she place the cup down on top of the saucer. As she did so, it rattled which annoyed her even more.

  Max groins tightened with pleasure as he watched her licking her lips, and he was oblivious to fact that she was very nervous because he was gawking at her.

  “Who is Mrs. Johnson?” he asked suddenly, his gaze still fixed on her lips, his hand gripping on the delicate handle of his cup of coffee.

  She looked up and her heart skipped a beat. The way he was staring at her frightened her. She lowered her head again to avoid his gaze.

  “She is our housekeeper and cook.” She could still sense him looking at her. What to do? She wanted him to stop. “I, I helped her prepare the meal sometimes,” she said absent-mindedly. Had he stop looking at her yet?

  “Why?”

  She looked up at him. “It was my job to help,” she said and lowered her gaze back to her food.

  “You are not to be in the kitchen while you are living under my provision.” He glanced away.

  She stiffened. How dare he put a restriction on her life?

  “Does that mean I have to have permission from you as well, your grace? If I were to go out into the town or anywhere that is outside the perimeter of your vast estate?”

  “Aye,” he said, leaning forward. “You will tell me where you go, do you understand?”

  “I am a grown woman, your grace, not a three year-old child,” she snapped, flaring her eyes at him.

  He raised one shapely brow at her. “Madam, I am the master here, you will obey my orders, do you understand? I want no disobedient from you.”

  “Your grace, I am not one of your servants, I will--”

  “You will do as I tell you. You are my mistress and you are living under my supervision, not another word, Madam, I am your damn guardian here.”

  “You are not my guardian,” she snapped and stood up. “You are an ogre who only sees fit to use your damn power for corruption. You can buy my body with your damn money but you will never buy me, your grace, my feelings, my heart.”

  “Sit down, Ivy,” he said coldly.

  “Nay, I will not, I will not listen to you, I will defy you, and I promise you that one day you will beg me for forgiveness. You will, I swear, your grace.” Her body was shaking uncontrollably for all her rage had come to the foreground, and she couldn’t help but unleash it at him.

  “Ivy, I said sit down,” he snapped, folding his arm across his chest.

  “Nay, I will not.” She turned and rushed toward the door.

  “Ivy, come back,” he said calmly as he stood up.

  “Nay!” she shouted over her shoulder and ran through the door.

  “Damnation!” he growled through gritted teeth, banging his palm on the table.

  Donald came in at that moment. “You grace,” he said.

  Max sat back on his chair, glaring darkly at the food before him. He had no appetite left.

  “Is she always like that?”

  The butler frowned, at a lost as to what he meant. “I beg your pardon, your grace?”

  “Is she always like that?” he said, turning his gaze to the butler.

  “Nay, your grace, never like that, she was such a--”

  “A hot-headed chit just like her mother,” he mumbled.

  “What was that, your grace?” Donald raised his brows.

  “Never mind, Donald, I have new duties for you.”

  “Aye, your grace?”

  “Keep an eye on Ivy. I don’t want her near the kitchen.” He didn’t think a mistress should concern herself with the kitchen or anything to do with food.

  “And I especially don’t want her going to the town alone. You will report to me where ever she goes and what ever she does and you will assign one of the footmen to accompany her if she were to go out for a walk.” He stood up. “Do you understand, Donald?”

  “Aye, your grace.”

  “At night I want more men guarding around the perimeter of the castle. Those poachers are getting more notorious with their hands-on-experiment in my estate.”

  “Aye, your grace.” The butler nodded. “I’m confident we’ll catch them soon.”

  “Good, I will be leaving for London next week for business and Parliament, won’t be back for a week or two. When I’m gone I expect you to take particular care of her,” he said and left.

  Donald stood there, wondering if he had the power to carry out the duty of guarding Lady Ivy Michaels and preventing her from going out into the town alone.

  Poor little thing, he thought, she had been imprisoned under the hand of her unloved mother, and now, she was imprisoned by her master too. She had never had the luck to enjoy simple things in life before, and he knew that the mere thought of her going out into the town and visiting the shops and watching the town folks going about their daily chores was a pleasure to her. He knew he himself could not imprison her, for he cared for her too much. And he knew that he would let her do whatever that pleased her even though he was disobeying the duke’s orders.

  CHAPTER 10

  Ivy wondered just how much longer she had to endure the presence of her master. Didn’t he have important work to attend to in London? Like his business and Parliament? The thought about him only brought forward more unbearable pain. The tension between them during dinner that evening was held by her endurance of willpower. She couldn’t possibly get any sicker than this, she thought, thinking about those continuous thrusting of her beating heart. Her hands were shaking while she was slicing her meat and her stomach protest at the mere thought of swallowing.

  She was glad that dinner was over and now she was able to rest. She could feel the aching of her shoulders and lower back. The stress had gotten to her, she thought.

  “M’ lady, your bath is ready,” Lisa announced.

  Ivy nodded, got up from the seat, and walked to the tub. She dropped her hand into the warm water and swirled it about. “Lisa, the herbs.”

  “The herbs? Oh, it’s still in one of the bag somewhere. I’ll fetch it right away.” The maid rushed out the room.

  Ivy stared at the closed door. Waiting seem pointless since the water was getting colder by the second. She disrobed and climbed into the tub.

  The moment her skin touched the water, she sighed with satisfaction. The warmth soothed her aching muscle. She closed her eyes, savoring the beautiful feelings. This had to be the best bath she ever had in a while yet. At home, her bath was usually short for her mother would not allow her to lazy around in the tub for more than ten minutes. The water, too, was usually cold since she was not allowed to use and waste hot water. She smiled contently.

  Feeling drowsy, she closed her eyes and rested her head on the rim of the tub. She wondered how much longer Lisa was going to be fetching the fragrant herbs. She started to feel guilty, for she rarely used the special aromatic dried herbs Mrs. Johnson made for her. Tonight, however, she felt the need for it. It would help her to relax and ease her tension.

  ***

  It took Lisa a while to find the special mixture she wanted. When she finally found some packed away in one of the unpacked bag, she rushed back along the dark hallway. She was walking across the corridor to her lady’s bedroom when someone appeared before her. She gasped,
dropping the sachet to the floor. She widened her eyes in the dimness as she stared at the huge figure.

  “Your duties for the night are done,” his voice echoed in the quietness.

  “But...”

  “Leave.”

  She hesitated for a moment and thought better of it. She curtsied and then left the hallway.

  He stood there watching the maid rushing away down the corridor. He bent down to pick up the ball-shaped sachet lying on the floor. He stared at it in his hand and smiled his dark, cynical smile. He turned to look at the door and walked toward it. He turned the knob.

  The moment he stepped into the room he felt as though he had just stepped into a different world; a world in which he had never been to before. The glowing candlelight and smell of honeysuckle, roses, and lavender greeted him. The scent made him feel as though he had just walked into the Garden of Eden.

  He ambled to the figure sitting in the tub. She looked as though she was sleeping and dreaming beautiful dreams. He stood behind her, taking in her slender back. She shifted her body to get into a more comfortable position.

  “Lisa? You’re back,” she sang out.

  The atmosphere was so light and gentle, he felt as though he was in a dream.

  “Did you find the herbs?”

  Gently stroking the small bag in his hand, he kneeled beside the tub. He untied the strings, dug his fingers into the bag, and brought out some fragrant herbs. He sprinkled them into the tub and watched it floating about on the water, some clinging onto the petal white skin.

  “Hmm, that smells nice. My muscle aches, Lisa, would you rub my back?”

  His intense gaze did not leave her person as he reached for the wash cloth. His hand moved into the water and he started to rub her smooth skin.

  Ivy sighed as her aching back lessened in pain. The rubbing was like a massage, soothing her nerves. She smiled and relaxed. She simply wanted to hug Lisa for her understanding. She couldn’t believe that relieving the tension in her muscle would also relieve the stress in her mind.

  “Very nice, Lisa.”

  It happened slowly, and she didn’t know how it started but the feeling of relaxation turned into the feeling of pleasure. Oh, the delight was incomparable.

  Then the cloth barrier disappeared. She could feel bare hands and bare fingers against her skin. She opened eyes.

  The hand that was massaging her now moved from her lower back around to her flat stomach--caressing and stroking her skin. The other hand moved up and massaged her shoulder. Then slowly the hand about her stomach started moving upward.

  She became alert. Her eyes widened.

  The hand moved higher and then it cupped her right breast.

  She sucked in her breath as the thrilling sensations shoot through her body and down her stomach.

  She jerked and sat up right. She turned around and her gaze locked with another pair of blue color.

  “You!” she whispered, staring wide-eye at him.

  Max smiled.

  Before she knew what happened, his lips were on hers. His kiss was not gentle nor was it savage. His tongue was thrusting between her lips, forcing them to open. One of his hand was fondling with her breast while the others holding the back of her head.

  Ivy shook her head and hit his chest for him to let her go. The more she fought him, the tighter his captivity became. When he finally left her mouth alone, his lips moved down to her throat.

  “No!” she cried. “Let go!”

  He ignored her plea and moved his lips down to her cleavage where it was barely covered by the water. There he started to kiss and caress her.

  “No, your grace,” she sobbed.

  He finally lifted his head and stared down at her. He stroked her flushed cheek with the back of his fingers. “I think you have enough bathing for one day.” He put one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and in a flash, he lifted her up.

  Ivy gasped when her bare skin met the cold, thin air.

  “No, put me back in,” she said breathlessly.

  He gave her his devilish smile and his eyes showed her clearly that he would never grant her her wish. As he held her there above the tub, water dripped from her naked body.

  She couldn’t speak nor could she think of what to do. But her heart seemed to know what it was doing; it was beating outrageously loud and fast in her chest.

  Max carried her toward the open hearth where the fire was busily razing the fresh pinewood. He laid her on the thick sheepskin rug and then sat back, looking at her. Surely, he had never seen a more beautiful water nymph in his life. Her body was silk smooth and very slippery from the droplets of water clinging to her petal white skin. Her dark tresses were in a complete contrast to her fair skin which made her look even more delicious, and he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away.

  Ivy brought her knees up to cover her nakedness.

  He leaned forward and grabbed her arm.

  “Your grace, what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  He pulled her toward him.

  She shook her head. “Nay!” she cried and her throat became dry.

  When she was close enough he caught the back of her neck and kissed her again. She couldn’t resist him as he urged her lips to open. His tongue invaded her mouth and he explored her innocence.

  She whimpered as he caressed and fondled her untouched body. He moved his lips from her mouth down to her throat and lowered to her breasts. There, he kissed around one rosy breast and then sucked her nipple.

  Ivy wanted him to stop harassing her body, but at the same time, the pleasure he was giving her was beyond her imagination. She shook her head, for she was at a lost in decision.

  Before she could make up her mind for him to stop immediately, she was on her back and he was on top of her. He undid the front of his Banyan and threw the thing carelessly away. She could feel his hard, muscular chest against her breasts and the length of his iron-like legs intertwining with her soft ones.

  “Your grace, you must stop,” she pleaded.

  He looked down at her, his face hard. He moved her legs apart.

  Her sense was alerted and she understood. She shook her head, biting her lips. “Nay, you will not,” she cried. “No, you will not.” She hit his chest and kicked his legs. “No!” she shouted, struggling below him.

  He caught hold of her and stilled her with his strength. He could have broken her bones if he applied more force, but he knew his own strength and damn if he would bruise her beautiful skin. When she couldn’t win him, she started to whimper beneath him, hating him for reducing her to nothingness.

  “Stop fighting, little dove, you know you will never win,” he said. He kissed her lips as he spread her legs apart again. He positioned himself, moved one hand under her lower back to lift her up slightly, and then with one forceful thrust--he broke through her maidenhead.

  The pain was sharp. Ivy tried to contained herself from screaming but couldn’t. She cried into the night.

  She whimpered until he finished his thrusting and pulled out. God, she felt so low, as though she was a thing to be used and then throw away. She refused to look at the hated man who had stolen her virginity. Oh, how she hated him. She simply wanted to wash his hated scent from her body.

  Max sat up and stared at the weeping girl. He grabbed for his Banyan and wrapped it around her.

  She pushed him away. She didn’t even look at him and stared blankly at floor. Her tears were still spilling out of her eyes.

  Ignoring her push, he picked her up and carried her to bed. She rolled over and gave her back to him. She could feel him watching her. When would he go so that she could cry her heart out?

  She felt the bed cracking. Then her body was moved around and he was hugging her.

  Nay, ‘tis not right.

  “What’s not right?” he asked.

  “What?” She did not know that she had spoken her thought aloud.

  “What’s not right?”

  “You
should leave, you shouldn’t be here,” she cried, her hands pushing at him to leave her be.

  “Cry, little dove, if wanted to, and then we can sleep,” he said simply.

  She stared up at him. God, had he no feelings whatsoever?

  “I can cry after you leave,” she said tightly.

  “I’m not leaving, so cry.” He pulled her closer.

  She was very confused by his actions. Weren’t he supposed to leave her to her misery after he had raped her? Shaking her head in confusion, she started to cry and she did so for an hour. When no more tears came out, she slept in his arms.

  ***

  Ivy woke up alone to the bright sunlight shinning into the room. She blinked and turned over to the other side of the bed. The moment she turned, the pain shot through her like hot molten fire. She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the ach. She sat up and threw the blanket away. Too late, she had forgotten that she was naked. She stared down at her body and saw the little spots of bloodstain between her thighs.

  Hating him was the first thought that came to her mind. She hated him with all her heart. The devil--had he no heart at all?

  Angry at the thought of him, she got up and stalked to the vase on the table. She splashed warm water on her flushed face and then reached for the cloth. She dipped it into the water and used that to clean the bloodstain from her body. Once she was done, she put on her chemise and then searched for a gown to wear. As she was doing this, she wondered if she should defy his order and wear her own gown instead, but then she really didn’t want another scene like yesterday. He would surely rip her gown again and dress her himself, and that, she did not want.

  She stared blankly at the array of gowns and picked one without much thought to wear. The one she chose was of a light pink and white color. It was an Empire style, and so once she had finished dressing herself, she felt quite bare. The dress was a flimsy thing and far too light for her liking. Oh well, she thought, she might as well get used to it since she had no choice in the matter.

  She was walking down the stairs when she saw Lisa rushing toward her. The woman looked pale and quite sick.