The Duke's Daughter

by Sasha Cottman

  ‘The storm last night was a particularly fierce one. This area is susceptible to landslides. I wanted to check the road.’

  He looked at the bag. She opened it.

  ‘Thought I should get rid of the fish remains before they begin to smell,’ she said.

  She turned, ready to continue her journey, but Avery reached out and took her by the arm. He had been feeling an ever-growing sense of protectiveness toward her from the time they left London.

  ‘Not without me you won’t,’ he replied.

  The smile she gave him when she nodded her agreement said it all. He had spoken to her as a concerned husband, and she, the dutiful wife, would obey. He wondered how often Lucy would let him instruct her without a word of disagreement. How much of her behaviour was because of the events of the previous night?

  When would wilful, independent Lucy reappear?

  A short while later, properly dressed, they set out from the lodge. A half mile or so into the pass, they began to see the damage the storm had wrought. Rocks had tumbled down the side of the pass and in places blocked the road.

  ‘Looks like we might have to walk part of the way back to the castle when we leave,’ Lucy noted.

  They rounded a bend and stopped. Avery let out a long, low whistle. A whole section of the pass had collapsed during the storm. The road was completely impassable.

  His mind switched immediately into military mode. How much food did they have at the lodge? How long would it take for a crew from the village to clear the road? How would Lucy cope if they were stranded for more than a few days?

  ‘Well, that’s a bit of an inconvenience,’ Lucy said, with a shrug of her shoulders.

  Inconvenience?

  He gave his wife a quizzical stare. She didn’t seem the least put out by the fact that they were now stuck in the Key.

  He cleared his throat. There was obviously something she wasn’t telling him.

  ‘Lucy. Is there another way out of the Key?’ Making a conscious decision to stay at the hunting lodge while knowing they could leave at any time was one thing; being stranded here with dwindling food supplies was an entirely different matter.

  ‘Not really. Well, not a road, anyway; nothing that a cart could travel across. We will have to make our way back down the mountain through the fens. There is a small gap in the Key on the far side of the lake. Close to where I was fishing yesterday. We will go home that way, but not today. The storm has not completely blown itself out,’ she replied.

  ‘No?’

  She pointed to the bank of dark clouds which still sat over the top of the mountain. The very last thing they needed was to find themselves caught out in the wild when the storm returned.

  ‘These storms can last for several days. Everyone in the village and at the castle will be bunkered down indoors until it clears. No one will venture out on the roads; it’s too dangerous. We shall just have to find ways to occupy our time until we can get back down the mountain.’

  Whether subconsciously or by design, Lucy licked her lips. Avery felt himself go hard. Suddenly the prospect of being stuck here wasn’t so bad. The opportunity for them to spend time alone together, knowing that no one would be arriving suddenly from the castle, had clearly crossed her mind.

  ‘Minx,’ he said, pulling her hard against him.

  ‘Wife,’ she gently teased.

  Pulling her hat from her head, he speared his fingers through her hair. She wrapped her arms around his waist as their lips met in a heated caress. He groaned, exulting in the knowledge that she had accepted last night was just the beginning of their life together.

  It started to rain heavily once more. ‘Damn,’ she muttered as they drew apart.

  Hand in hand, they quickly raced back to the dry comfort of the lodge. There was nothing romantic about being caught out in the driving rain for a second time.

  ‘By my reckoning we have another week’s worth of food and drink.’

  Avery was standing at the top of the cellar stairs, slowly lowering the hatch door.

  ‘Some salted fish, ham, and pickled pork is the extent of our meat.’

  Lucy painted a serious look on her face, placed her hands on her hips and marched over to his side. ‘What about wine? I can go outside and catch some more fresh fish, but I refuse to stay a day in this place if there is no wine!’

  When Avery snorted, she chuckled. He reached out and pulled her into his embrace, roughly kissing her on the mouth. Soft and sensual kisses she enjoyed, but when her husband handled her with vigour, Lucy felt her inner wickedness surface.

  Thank God I didn’t let you go.

  She playfully protested at his attentions, all the while resting her hand on his hip and pulling him ever closer. The kiss deepened, and in her newfound wantonness, she prayed he would take her back to bed. She would never grow tired of the heady sensation of his body loving hers. Every time she had reached climax in the days since they had become lovers, Avery had claimed her mouth in a soul-searing kiss.

  She thrilled to the sight of watching his passion-etched face as he thrust deep into her body, grinding his hips against hers as he came to completion. Joy filled her heart, knowing she pleased him in such an elemental way.

  Most telling of all was the knowledge burning deep inside that their sexual encounters affected Avery as much as they did her. If she could at least bind him to her with her body, it would be more than she had hoped for on their wedding day. More than she had dared to dream during those long nights lying on the other side of the bolster from him. Watching as he slept. Yearning for his touch.

  Slowly, he released his hold. The kiss ended.

  She mewed with disappointment. The look of satisfaction on Avery’s face gave her pause. He kissed her tenderly on the lips once more.

  ‘Lucy. About the wine, my dear. Remember we agreed we were going to ration it? No one is coming up from the valley to bring us more. You and I have been exceeding our rations for the past three nights. The only wine left is some red. There are several bottles of some Highland brew, but other than that we shall be drinking coffee from now on.’

  He raised his eyebrows. The question was not so much about the lack of good wine, and they both knew it. It was more about making the journey back over the dangerous fens to Strathmore Castle and facing Lucy’s family.

  And their now-combined but still uncertain future together.

  Her mother would not be worried about her safety; landslides regularly happened in the mountains. And she was with Avery, a former soldier who the duchess knew would not knowingly allow Lucy to come to harm.

  ‘Yes,’ she sighed. The fens would have to be tackled.

  Memories of the last time she crossed the boggy, cold, and dark marshes flashed into her mind. She puffed out her cheeks. Never had she thought she’d be leading anyone across that desolate and threatening landscape.

  ‘You said you had crossed them before, so you know the way back to the castle?’ Avery asked.

  Lucy suspected he had not meant to question her ability to see them safely home, but the look of concern he failed to stifle still hurt. Trust a soldier to want to know that the way ahead was clear of danger.

  ‘Of course,’ she lied.

  The last time she had made the perilous journey, her father had led the way. Alex and David had been carrying lanterns and several residents of the village had accompanied them. She had been little more than a walking passenger while the duke tested the ability of his two eldest sons to read directions from the summer night sky. If only she had paid better attention that day, rather than complaining about her sore feet.

  Come on, Lucy, you know you can do this. If you leave at first light, you just have to keep the mountain to the rear of your left shoulder and head for the travellers’ hut. As long as you reach that by nightfall, making east for the road should be a simple enough endeavour.

  ‘I have done the trek once before,’ she added. In her head both Alex and David railed against her lying to Avery. His l
ife as well as hers would be at risk. She had no right to let him believe it would be an easy journey. After everything which had transpired between them during the past days, she owed him the truth. After that they would have to work things out between them.

  ‘It’s not a gentle walk in the park. The fens can be a treacherous place. People have been known to set out across them and to never be heard from again.’

  Avery nodded.

  ‘I was wondering when you were going to tell me the truth of the matter. Your brother Stephen told me how terrible they were and Alex agreed,’ he replied.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘There is nothing to be ashamed of in admitting risk and danger, Lucy. The most foolhardy soldier is the one who does not accept that he may die in battle. The heroes of legend have become that because they understood that they were mere mortals. No one is invincible,’ he counselled.

  ‘So you know that I am relying on memory and gut instinct to preserve our lives? No one is going to suddenly appear through the pass and come to rescue us. It could be blocked for many months, perhaps into next spring. We have to make our own way down the mountain,’ she replied.

  ‘Lucy. I have known that we faced an arduous task from the morning we saw the pass was blocked. In the years I spent in the mountains of Portugal we faced many similar situations. Ice and snow often lay between us and survival.’

  Avery raised Lucy’s hand to his lips, tenderly kissing each fingertip. When he got to the finger on which her wedding band shone, he stopped. She recalled the moment she had put the ring back on her hand, determined to salvage her marriage. Not long after, she and Avery had made love for the first time. She vowed never to take the ring off again.

  ‘We will not fail,’ he said, the depth of his conviction taking hold of her heart.

  Avery went outside to check on the weather. For someone who was only recently acquainted with the mountains of Scotland, he had quickly developed a deep insight into the behaviour of the wind and clouds.

  Lucy stood and considered her husband. When she moved away and went into the kitchen to add more logs to the fire, it was with the acceptance that anyone who took him on face value did so at their peril.

  The rest of the day was spent in making preparations for the journey. Of greatest concern was the risk that they might not make it to the hut by nightfall and be forced to spend the night out in the open. While it was still early autumn, it was not uncommon for snow to fall on the mountain at this time of year. The danger of them freezing to death on Strathmore Mountain was very real.

  While Avery went about the task of finding a suitable lantern and oil, Lucy took charge of the kitchen. As she stood stirring the pot for their evening meal, she found herself smiling. She took particular pride in cutting up the carrots, potatoes and turnips into neat little squares ready for the pot. She had made the stew exactly according to Avery’s instructions.

  ‘If only the other girls of the ton could see me now,’ she muttered to the stove.

  ‘Well, that should at least give us a few hours’ light if we don’t make the hut by nightfall,’ Avery said as he stepped into the kitchen. He placed the lantern on the floor next to their other travel supplies.

  He wandered over to the pot and after smelling the stew, gave an approving nod. Lucy ushered him to the bench at the table.

  ‘Husband, please take a seat; let me serve you your supper,’ she said.

  She dished up the stew into two large bowls. As soon as they were placed on the table, Lucy put the lid back on the pot and removed it from the heat. Tomorrow they would carry the rest of the stew with them in a small tin pan, hopefully to reheat it at the hut later that day.

  Taking her now-customary seat opposite Avery, she handed him a spoon. He took it with a smile. ‘Thank you; this looks and smells delicious.’

  She sat silently watching as he took his first mouthful of his meal. He quietly chewed. Then chewed some more. Finally he swallowed. Lucy sat silently, spoon in hand.

  The game lasted close to a minute until Avery suddenly sat back on the bench and laughed aloud.

  ‘All right, all right; I’ve tasted worse, but that was a long time ago,’ he said.

  A wicked glint shone in his eyes. Lucy leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and studied him.

  ‘And when exactly was that, Mr Fox?’

  She knew the nagging fear about their impending journey was uppermost in both their minds. Anything which added a touch of levity to the situation was welcome.

  ‘Let me say this: the meal in question involved a mule and a small furry creature of unknown origin. I think an onion and several tomatoes were added to the mix, but they did little to make it remotely palatable.’

  Lucy’s spoon fell into her dish.

  ‘You compare my concerted efforts at cooking to a soldier’s potluck meal!’

  She took hold of Avery’s bowl and moved it out of his reach. Until he told her otherwise, he would not be tasting any more of the second-worst meal of his life.

  To her surprise, he quickly rose from his chair and came round to her side. Standing over her, he reached out and laid his hand on her arm. ‘I’m sorry, Lucy; I had no right to make light of your culinary efforts. You have done much more than could be expected of a woman of your high birth. I beg your forgiveness.’

  She frowned, unsure if he was being earnest or not. The touch of his hand as it settled on her arm gave Lucy a start. Avery was serious.

  All her life she had been subjected to the gentle teasing and laughter of her brothers; for a man to react as Avery did left her perplexed. She looked up at him, giving him a shy smile.

  Her husband was cut from a darker material than her brothers. That, of course, should be of little surprise considering their vastly dissimilar upbringings. She wondered how different a man Avery would have been if he had been given the same opportunities and privileges in his life as Alex and David.

  His sombre manner constantly hinted at a difficult childhood. Now that they had known each other in the physical sense, Lucy ached to understand Avery better as a man. She offered him her hand as she rose from the chair.

  ‘There is nothing to forgive,’ she said.

  He placed a hot kiss on the side of her face. It rapidly made its way down her neck to the base. All thought of food quickly left Lucy’s mind when Avery whispered.

  ‘Come to bed. I hunger only for you.’

  She closed her eyes, savouring the passion of his words. Relishing the expectation of his lips and tongue roaming over her naked body.

  Lucy offered up her mouth. Avery hungrily took it, his lips ever-powerful in their claiming of her.

  The journey from the kitchen to the bedroom was a swift one. Thoughts of the meal cooling on the table vanished as Avery stripped the clothing from her body. Her last coherent thought as he took her nipple into his mouth had nothing to do with food.

  ‘Avery,’ she murmured as she gave herself to him.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ‘If at any time you think we are lost, please tell me. I would rather we turn back and make it safely to the hunting lodge than be caught out in the fens in the middle of the night,’ Avery said.

  They had left the Key at first light, carrying their supplies. Treasured personal belongings which they did not wish to leave behind were in Avery’s beloved travel bag, which was slung lazily over his shoulder, along with his rifle. Lucy carried the all-important sack of food and a water flask, along with the leftovers from their previous night’s supper. Avery also carried the lamp and jar of oil.

  ‘How are we going to light the lamp, if we don’t have a fire?’ she asked.

  He gave her a disapproving look.

  ‘You think this is the first time I have had to face the prospect of crossing a mountain in the dark? Remind me some time to tell you about the fifteen years I spent in the army,’ he replied.

  As soon as the harsh words left his mouth, he regretted them. Lucy, as he was beginning to understand, wa
s just being her usual practical self. She had not once complained about the task at hand or the biting wind. A wind that cut through his coat like a knife. The brutal winters of Portugal paled in comparison to the briskness of an autumn day in Scotland.

  Lucy walked beside him, trudging along in her sensible leather boots. She did not even appear to notice the inclement weather. ‘I didn’t mean to sound as if I doubted you. Which I don’t. I was just interested. I would love to hear some of your soldiering stories. I am intrigued by the life you led in the army. All those years before we met,’ she replied.

  He nodded his head. ‘Of course, and I am sorry for being hard on you. I know you were only asking because you want to make sure we get back safely. Trust me, I would not have agreed to venture out here without having planned for as many contingencies as possible.’

  He was loath to admit that allowing a woman to be in charge was something completely foreign to him. He wanted to trust Lucy’s judgement, but it ran so much against the grain he found it a constant struggle.

  They walked on for several hours with Lucy leading the way, the ground becoming more waterlogged as they made their way down the mountain.

  ‘Do you know how far the travellers’ cottage is from here?’ Avery asked.

  As he spoke, he stepped awkwardly on a clump of flat sedge. Trying to steady his step, he slipped and his boot landed in a deep pool of water. He dropped to one knee as his other leg sank down. The lantern he was carrying clattered to the ground, narrowly missing another water-filled hole.

  ‘Blast!’ he yelled, as icy water threatened to spill over the top of his boot. Lucy turned and grimaced. She offered him a helping hand as he struggled to his feet.

  ‘Try to follow in my steps,’ she said, picking up the lantern and handing it to Avery.

  She pointed further down the mountain, toward a large piece of forested land.