She dressed in a gown of red lace with a fur collar, neglecting to put on gloves, and knowing but not caring that when she raised her arms her dress showed her ankles. She joined Harry in the breakfast room and thanked him when he pulled her chair out for her. They sat in silence as the breakfast was served – bread and lemon cakes – and then Harry dismissed the servants.
“I thought you might not send for me,” Katherine said.
“I was busy,” Harry said. “I decided to write to London with a description of this man, to see if anybody there has any clue of who he may be. I also wrote to several village councils, to warn them of this madman.”
“That was very good of you,” Katherine said, looking over the top of her cup at his hulking, muscular shoulders.
“You are different from other ladies, Katherine,” Harry muttered at length.
“Is that so?” Katherine said.
“Yes,” he said firmly. “You are not like your cousin at all. She would still be shaking from her confrontation with the madman. She would not be able to sit here and converse on the subject with complete calm. But you seem barely affected. Was it not frightening?”
“Would you like me to tremble?” Katherine said, with a sly smile. “Would that please you?”
Katherine was satisfied to see him blush. “Of course not,” he said. He murmured under his breath: “Give me a battle, and I am an expert. Show me a woman, and I am a fool.”
“Pardon?” Katherine said, feigning not to hear.
“Nothing,” Harry said. “Did you love your cousin very much?”
“I barely knew her,” Katherine said truthfully. “I met her, I think, four times. She never liked me when we were children. She disliked the way I played with the other children, insisting that I was dishonoring myself. As we grew older, we became more and more different. Elizabeth was not unlike a flower. Father, before he died, often said that. Elizabeth is a rose, Katherine; you are the thorns. He meant it as a compliment, you see. Father is the one who gave me the cane-sword.”
“Quite unlike any woman I have met,” the Duke said. “Katherine, let’s take that walk now.”
“As you wish,” Katherine said, rising.
He led them through the Castle to huge glass doors that opened upon a stretch of green that led to a small wood. In the distance, on the outskirts of the grounds, Katherine could see guards with their backs to the Castle. “Shall we go to the woods?” Katherine said.
“If you like,” Harry said easily.
They walked in silence and made their way deeper and deeper into the woods until they came to an outcropping of rocks. Katherine ran over to them and sat down, breathing with excitement. The Duke followed; a bemused smile upon his lips. “You are a wild woman,” he said, not unkindly. “You are quite at home in the woods, are you not?”
“Very much so,” Katherine said, looking up at him. He was leaning over her, his body blocking the sunlight. “I find my true nature can be free in the woods. When I am in company, Mother is constantly telling me to be more ladylike. But I just tell her that Father did not have a problem with it, and she won’t say anything bad about Father.”
“Katherine — your legs.”
Katherine looked down at her dress. The way she had sat and caused it to hike up to her knees, showing her calves. She was about to pull her dress down when a crazy idea took hold of her: a warm, mad, beautiful idea. She pretended to lean down and adjust it, and then she placed her hands on her calves and squeezed, compressing the flesh. She looked up and saw that Harry’s gaze was fixed upon her, his pale blue eyes wide open and hungry.
“Does this bother you?” Katherine said, rubbing her thighs, palming the flesh. “Does this bother you, Duke?”
“It is inappropriate,” the Duke breathed, but his voice was weak. “I want to touch them,” he went on, as though he was surprised at what he was saying. “I will touch them.”
Then, in a fit of animalistic passion, he fell to his knees and gripped her calves with his strong hands. She let out a small squeal as he pulled her calves toward him, causing her whole body to fall forward. He fell backward, and she kept toppling forward until she was sitting atop him. She could feel his manhood through his britches: huge and hard.
“Katherine…” he breathed.
“We can do it like this,” Katherine said, his manhood pressing hard into her, making her hot and wet. “It is not wrong if we do it like this. You see?” She started to shift her waist, gyrating atop him, moving her womanhood up and down his manhood through his britches. He moaned and she moaned with him.
He looked up at her in astonishment, and then reached up and touched her face, his hands on her cheeks. He began to move with her, underclothes and britches rubbing together, the friction burning into her womanhood, into hot-spot on the outside: the pleasure-spot. He put his finger in her mouth and she suckled it as she gyrated.
Katherine moved faster and faster, the friction becoming hotter and hotter until she could barely handle it. The Duke had two fingers in her mouth, and looked up in astonishment as she suckled them. Her eyes were fixed on his pleasure-filled face. She rubbed her womanhood against him harder and harder. She felt it coming—surprised, as she always was—the unstoppable pleasure. She closed her eyes—and it released.
She moaned loudly, riding the Duke harder and faster as the pleasure surged through her. The Duke pushed his fingers further into her mouth and then he, too, was moaning. She felt his cock pulse and quiver as he spilled his seed in his britches. When it was over, Katherine got to her feet. After a moment, the Duke did the same.
“My lady,” he said, staring into her eyes.
“Yes?” she said, looking up at him sweetly.
“You are not like other women at all, are you?” he breathed.
“No, Duke,” she said. “I am truly not. Shall we walk to the pond, see if the ducks are up to anything amusing?”
A smile touched Harry’s lips. Then he nodded. “Yes,” he said. “That sounds fine. Take my hand.” It wasn’t a question. He grabbed her hand before she had a chance to reply. He squeezed it; she squeezed his in return.
They left the wood and walked toward the pond. All the while Katherine was thinking about what they had done, and about what they could do. Once she had been called the Lady of Lust. It was meant as an insult: something to shame her. But she did not see the shame in it at all.
*****
Two weeks passed where she only saw the Duke at breakfast. Nothing further happened and they did not discuss what had happened in the woods. Katherine sensed that Harry was embarrassed about it, and she saw no reason to push the matter, even though she was not embarrassed one bit. When they met, it was awkward and uncomfortable—on the surface. But beneath the apparent awkwardness there lurked a lust and a pent-up passion. Katherine had to stop herself from trying to make something else happen. And she knew, from the way they Duke looked at her, his eyes dwelling on her lips, on her hands, that he was struggling too. She wanted to make him see that there was nothing wrong in their attraction, but she was not so sure of that either.
She knew that there was nothing wrong with it as far as they were concerned? So what if they wanted each other? But she knew she lived in a world of sentimental and mad novels wherein this sort of thing happened all the time. In reality, there were social constructs to consider. After what they had done, the usual, honorably thing Duke should do is to propose to her. Katherine took it as a good sign that he hadn’t done that. Perhaps he was as different from ordinary men as she was from ordinary women.
Another week passed. Time and time again Duke said at breakfast: “I will be leaving the Castle soon to hunt for this madman. Then I will be returning to France. I have been away long enough already.” But every morning the maidservant came and asked her if she would like to join the Duke for breakfast; and every day he w
as there, waiting for her.
In the third week the Duke invited her to dine with him. Hitherto she had been dining alone. She took the opportunity to wear the necklace Mother had given her for her birthday last year. It was glittery and drew attention to her half-covered chest. When she entered, Harry almost jumped from his seat. Katherine hid a smile behind her hand and walked forth as calm-faced as she could.
“I am glad you decided to join me,” he said.
“I am glad you decided to invite me,” Katherine replied. “It was a surprise, as I have sensed some distance between us since the day in the woods.”
“Well, yes,” Harry said stiffly. “I suppose there has been. It has been rather awkward, hasn’t it? I have just been thinking about… Thinking about things.”
“What things, may I ask?”
The Duke made to talk, and then waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter.”
Food and wine was served. The Duke gripped his cup and drank eagerly. Katherine drank more slowly. She had only ever been intoxicated twice in her life, and she’d found it a jarring experience both times. She had not been able to think and even her steps had become wobbly. The Duke was on his fourth cup when she had just finished her first.
He looked up into her eyes, his face stern and set. “You are a monstrously beautiful woman,” he said. “I saw you once before, but you will not know it.”
“Really?” Katherine said. She could not remember ever meeting him.
“It was a year ago, when your cousin and I visited your home. You were out when we were there – at the fare, your mother told us – but I saw you when we were leaving, through the curtains of the carriage. You were holding your dress above your knees as you walked across the moors. Ghastly, your cousin said. I said nothing. I was too busy. Too busy watching you.”
“And did you like what you saw, Harry?”
“You see!” he cried. “I do not know how to speak to you! You are so unlike other women! Another woman might think that, but she would never say it! Another woman would pretend to be scandalized; would pretend that she was shocked by what I had said. But you just say exactly what you think!”
Not exactly, she thought. If I said exactly what I thought I would have been cast out long ago. “Is that a problem?” she said, taking a small sip of wine.
“I cannot stop thinking about our time in the woods together,” he said. “Katherine, it was amazing.”
“It was,” she agreed.
“I have a question for you, my lady.”
“Hmm?”
He looked down at his glass, and then back up into her eyes. His hands were trembling slightly, a strange sight as he was the burliest, toughest-looking man she had ever met. Little me can make the Duke of Fire tremble? “Katherine,” he said. “I have been thinking about you all the time. I want to touch you, down there. It is a horrid thing to say – a scandalous thing – but it is the truth. I want to rub you down there and give you pleasure.”
Katherine felt her heart begin to pound in her chest. Her body seemed more alive, more real. Warmth spread through her legs and up to her chest. “How long have you thought of this, Harry?” Katherine said, her hand creeping under the table. She placed her fingers on her womanhood through her dress, the pleasure dancing on her fingertips. “How long have you thought about touching me?”
“Ever since the woods,” Harry said earnestly. “I cannot stop thinking about it. I want to feel my hands on you.”
“Do it, then,” Katherine said, moving her hand quicker under the table.
The Duke stood up and walked to the doors. He locked one, and then the other. He returned to the table and stood over her. “Stand up,” he said. Without waiting for a response, he gripped her shoulders and lifted her to her feet as though she weighed nothing. “Lift your dress,” he said, in a commanding tone.
Katherine reached down and bunched her dress around her fists and lifted it. The Duke pulled down her under garment, baring her womanhood. She was wet and hot and more excited than she had ever been. He placed his hand on her leg, closing his eyes and sighing with pleasure. Then he moved his hand up. His fingers brushed her sweet spot: the spot she had so often rubbed alone at night, when thinking of the Duke. These past three weeks she had thought of him almost every night. And now here it is happening in real life.
She let out a moan of pleasure. He looked at her in surprise, and then a faint smile touched his lips. “It feels good when I touch you there, my lady?”
“Yes,” she moaned, as his fingers danced across her sweet spot. He pressed his middle finger hard against the spot and rubbed side to side fast. She moaned louder and louder. “Yes, Duke, yes, yes, yes.”
The pleasure was moving through her now, from her womanhood into her body, tingling every inch of her. She moaned louder and louder until she had to clamp her hand over her mouth not to scream. He pressed down ever harder and heat exploded down there. She closed her eyes and saw white-hot eat on her vision, like looking into sunlight with your eyes closed.
She kept rubbing but she could no longer feel the individual movements. All she could feel was the heat, the massive and awesome heat, the heat that pervaded every part of her. She closed her eyes even tighter and then it all released, washing over her in one great wave. “Yes,” she sighed, as her body slumped in released pleasure.
“You are done, my lady?” the Duke said.
“Yes, yes,” Katherine said. “Now let me see to you, my Duke.”
She didn’t give him a chance to protest. Sliding to her knees, she pulled his britches down in one quick movement. His manhood sprang up, huge and hard, bigger than any she had ever seen. She reached up with her hand and grabbed the base. He let out a moan. She looked up, pleased to see the pleasure written upon his expression.
Then she moved her hand up and down, gripping his manhood hard. She opened her mouth and took the tip of his manhood in her mouth. He looked down, astonished. She worked the base of his manhood with her hand and bobbed her mouth up and down on the tip. His body lurched and gyrated as she sucked him. She moved her hand faster and faster.
“You can spill your seed in my mouth,” she said, and then started sucking again.
“Oh, my lady,” he breathed, his hands resting in her hair. “My lady…”
She sucked and rubbed faster and harder, moving her head up and down, up and down, until his body jolted and seized up. His seed spilled out of his manhood into her mouth. Katherine swallowed as it poured into her mouth, swallowing it all down. She stood and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Sitting back in her seat, she watched the Duke return to his, pulling his britches up around his waist. “I never knew a man and woman could share so much pleasure,” he whispered. “It was incredible.”
“It was,” Katherine agreed.
“Will you allow me to visit your bedchambers in the night, perhaps tomorrow?”
Katherine thought about it, but not for long. Her body was responsive to his. When she was with him it was like no other man she had ever been with. He is a Duke, after all. She knew what she was going to say before she said it. “Yes. I would like that very much.”
“Very well,” he said. Then he repeated, as though they had just finalized a business agreement: “Very well.”
*****
It was two weeks before the Duke came to her bedchambers, but it was not what she had dreamed of. Instead of sneaking into her bed, his hands roaming over her, he charged in out of breath with his sword in hand. “Oh, thank God,” he said, searching the room. “My lady, you must dress immediately.”
“Why, what is it?” Katherine said, not trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. Dress? That’s the opposite of what we were supposed to be doing. “What has happened?”
“The killer, he is somewhere on the grounds. The guards I posted have been mu
rdered. One managed to escape, but the rascal has fled the grounds in fear of the madman. There was just one man, he told me. There was just one man and he killed five of us! Apparently he emerged from the trees like a phantom, scaring the men into immobility. Damn rascals!” He stamped his foot down. “They leave a Duke and a Lady defenseless! They will be punished for this!”
Katherine dressed as swiftly as she was able, and then followed the Duke into the hallway. “Where will we go?” she said.
“The library,” Harry said. “It has one entrance and no windows. There is small chance of him catching us unaware there. We must hurry. We do not know where he could be hiding. One man, ha!”
Katherine collected her cane-sword, knowing it might come in useful if this man proved to be as dangerous as he sounded. Harry took her hand and pulled her through the Castle, under old landscape paintings and mounted beasts, down twisting hallways and around corners, until they arrived at a room with a dusty wooden door and an old, ornate handle. The Duke pushed the door opened and ushered Katherine inside.
When they were inside, Harry searched amongst the stacks, making sure that the man wasn’t already in the room. When he was sure the man wasn’t in here, the two of them sat with their backs to the wall facing the door. Harry laid his sword across his knees and narrowed his eyes. “He will pay,” he said, his voice as unflinching and self-assured as she had heard it. “He will not get away with this.”
Even now, Katherine found herself thinking about how handsome and courageous the Duke looked. He was still in his undershirt and night-britches. Katherine could see his muscles showing through his shirt, his hard, immovable muscles. She felt sort for the madman that was going to confront him. They sat for a long time, until the sun began to rise, but there was no sight of the madman.
Katherine yawned. “Do you think he has left?”
“I don’t think so,” Harry said. “You learn in war that the enemy wants you to think you’re safe before they strike. That’s when you’re at your most vulnerable.”
“It is not different to lovemaking, then?”
Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) Page 21