Desire and Duty (The Consort's Chronicles Book 1)

by Jarvis, E. C.

  She scrunched her face up at the idea of such a task. Usually, Averys was the one to acknowledge the staff, if he chose to do so at all, and she would simply walk in step behind him. A number of guards and soldiers surrounded the vehicle, dismounting from horses. The quantity of men seemed to have reduced significantly from the number who left on the journey with them.

  A soft hand touched the back of her arm. Morsh gently guided her forwards.

  “What time is it?” she asked as they climbed the stairs.

  “Past midnight. You’ve slept for most of the day, so you might struggle to sleep tonight. I recommend a glass of warm milk and some food, maybe try reading a nice book by the fire before heading to bed?”

  “I must apologise, Colonel,” she said as she nodded to an elderly man with spectacles perched so far on the end of his nose they didn’t look to be much use. She presumed him to be the head butler.

  “Whatever for?”

  “You must be used to a far more exciting life, providing your medical advice and services to men on battlefields. It can’t be much of a thrill to end up having to babysit the Emperor’s wife.”

  “You think I’d rather be out there stitching limbs back together and rubbing ointments onto the parts of soldiers onto which no other man should ever have to rub things?”

  “Well, when you put it that way…”

  “Trust me, Ma’am, I much prefer tending to your needs.”

  “Even if I need things to be rubbed?” she said before her brain had a chance to stop the words from tumbling out.

  “Especially then.” His eyes twinkled in the light from the large chandelier in the foyer. She stood for a time, admiring the décor—polished wood panelling on every wall, a winding staircase leading to the upper levels. Only one of the multitude of internal doors leading to other rooms was open, showing a drawing room with a roaring fire at the other end, providing warmth in the cool, Spring-evening air. It reminded her of home.

  Nathanial appeared in the entrance just a few steps behind them. His angular face was obscured by shadow as he selected a dark corner in which to stand, putting his back to the wall. She looked between him and the Colonel and gave a heavy sigh. This was what she wanted, to be away from all the stress and trouble of the palace and to be protected from whatever threats might come her way. Still, something in the dark expression on Nathanial’s face gave her chills. Something told her that life wasn’t going to become as simple as she’d hoped.

  XVI – Lodge Life

  It had taken Lenora the entire week to explore the interior of the lodge fully. Her favourite room was the library, packed with racks of books from floor to ceiling, so dense one could barely walk between some of the sections. A large couch and table occupied the space at the far end beside an oval window overlooking the gardens and forest beyond. The sky was mostly obscured by the sweeping edge of Shadow Mountain, which lived up to its name in the afternoons, casting long and looming darkness over the forest below. By around three o’clock, that same shadow plunged the library and the rest of the lodge into premature darkness.

  On the second day, she had ventured out to the stables and startled the young stable boy by asking for a horse. Her accompanying guard grumbled audibly at the notion of having to follow her around outside on a horse, riding not being one of his skills. She conceded to wait until another day when a guard with suitable skill on horseback was available, though mostly her reason for conceding was due to the slight turn in the weather. The air in the mountains was cooler than along the coastline, and the area seemed more prone to rapid changes in the elements. A blue sky could fill with clouds and turn to rain without warning, and as the discomfort of pregnancy took hold, the notion of being caught out on a horse in a chilly rain shower whilst feeling sick seemed a little too much adventure for now.

  She hadn’t seen Nathanial since the night they’d arrived. She’d expected him to come to her room every night and found herself retiring to the bedroom early to spend hours sitting around waiting, only to wind up disappointed. Colonel Morsh had been scarce, too. His duty seemed to involve organising the soldiers on guard in the grounds of the lodge as well as his duties as her doctor, though the former required far more of his time than the latter.

  She didn’t miss Averys and was certainly grateful to be rid of both Barentyn and Lusk, but the sense of loneliness was evident. She even missed her weekly gathering of gossiping women; the plethora of books in the library could only provide so much escapism.

  She headed straight to the library on the seventh day, right after breakfast, and collected the book she’d found the day before. A perfectly salacious story about a miller’s wife and a high-born Lord who enjoyed watching her bathe nude in a waterfall. She hoped today to reach the chapter where the two would finally get together, and she’d give herself a thorough rubbing as reward. She’d even given up wearing knickers for the occasion.

  “Will you wait outside the library, please?” she asked her guard for the day, not entirely sure what his name was and not really caring at any rate.

  “My duty is to follow you at all times, Ma’am,” he argued, peering down at her through his overly bushy eyebrows.

  “Even into the washroom?”

  “No, Ma’am.”

  “So I may have privacy when I’m washing, but not when I’m reading?”

  “It is for your protection, Ma’am.”

  She sighed and, for a mad moment, considered telling him precisely what it was she planned on doing in the hopes that he would understand and leave her alone. Though, if he mistook her intentions for any sort of invitation to join in, that would be awful. The thought of his eyebrows dancing up and down on his forehead as he watched her spread-eagled on the couch, rubbing herself silly, was a little too terrifying.

  “The Royal Consort can have privacy if she wishes.” Colonel Morsh appeared, marching towards them.

  The guard snapped to attention and barked, “Sir,” at him.

  “Thank you, Colonel.”

  “Though I don’t think it’s healthy for you to lock yourself up in the library all day every day.”

  “Well, I would like to go riding, but I’m not sure about the weather today.”

  “I’d be happy to accompany you on a short ride if you like, Ma’am. We can stay close to the lodge in case the weather turns, and it would probably be better not to stray too far anyway, in the name of safety.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. As much as she wanted to have a nice, leisurely rubbing session with a smutty book, the thought of going on a ride with the dashing Colonel made her weak in the knees.

  “That’s if you’re up to it, of course. Not feeling too sick?”

  “Not at all,” she lied with a smile.

  “Good. I suggest you change into something warmer and suitable for riding, but not too tight around the middle. You’re beginning to fill out, and you shouldn’t restrict your stomach. No more corsets.”

  “You’re very well-informed on female clothing, Colonel, and very adept at telling women what items they should remove.”

  “Indeed I am.” He bent forward, averting his voice from the guard who followed as they walked. “Be careful.”

  Butterflies jumped about in her stomach at his warning. Surely she couldn’t get in trouble for a little harmless flirting?

  “I’ll be at the stables in an hour,” she said, turning to leave. The wiggle in her hips wasn’t intentional—at least, that was what she kept telling herself as she walked away, feeling the burn of his attention on the back of her neck and between her butt cheeks.

  The hour raced past. She’d spent the time fiddling with her hair and squeezing into a thick, layered dress of purple silks and velvet. It was form-fitting, but not so much as to squeeze her burgeoning curves in an uncomfortable way. It did make her breasts pop up in an appealing manner. They would look glorious bouncing up and down with the rhythm of the horse, even at a slow trot. She wore dark stockings and suspenders to protect her legs. The on
ly item of clothing she forgot was her knickers. The face in the mirror turned a shade of red as she imagined toppling from the horse in a graceful fall, skirts lifting all the way up to present the enticing Colonel with an interesting view. She wondered how wide that boyish smile could spread.

  She left her room and headed downstairs, leaving the lodge by the back rooms which lead directly to the stable block. Her shadow guard followed a few feet behind, but she barely registered his presence. Her determination to spend time with someone who might actually hold a conversation with her, as well as the opportunity to go for a ride, remained her all-consuming focus.

  The stable doors were open, and Colonel Morsh stood holding the reigns of a chestnut brown mare with her mane pulled back into a plait.

  “I will see that she is well looked-after from here,” Morsh called to the soldier who followed. The man clicked his heels together and gave a salute, then headed away. Morsh dropped the reigns and disappeared into the stable, reappearing a minute later with a glorious white filly with a tawny mane.

  “Lara,” Morsh said as he presented Lenora with the filly.

  “Thank you. No stable boy to tend to the horses today?”

  “It seems he’s on a break.”

  Lenora spent a few moments acquainting herself with the horse, then accepted the Colonel’s help to get into the saddle, the splits in the layers between her skirts allowing her to ride with legs on either side.

  “Do you know these woods well, Colonel?” she asked as he mounted his horse.

  “I’ve done a little scouting of the area myself. Enough to take us on a short trek. There’s a small lake at the end of that path.”

  “Sounds lovely. Lead on.”

  They trotted for a while between the tall cedar trees, skirting between the overgrown ferns which spread across the path. Lenora’s horse was delightfully tame and quite happy to follow behind the older mare without much need for encouragement, which left Lenora able to admire the scenery, including the view of the Colonel’s broad shoulders.

  “Are you married, Colonel?” she called to him.

  “I was,” he responded as he turned a corner and ducked an overhanging branch. The path widened slightly and Lenora tapped her heels into Lara to bring them alongside one another. “She died,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right. I’m used to death. I’ve seen it in many forms. Sadly, I wasn’t there when she passed. I was on a campaign abroad. She died in childbirth.”

  A lump caught in Lenora’s throat. What could she possibly say to comfort him? Any words she could think of seemed utterly meagre in the face of such a terrible truth. However, she did now understand why he seemed happy to accept the job of taking care of her through her pregnancy. Perhaps he saw it as some penance or a way of fixing the past, to be there for her when he couldn’t be for his long-lost wife.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you down,” he said with a smile which didn’t reach his eyes.

  “And I didn’t mean to bring you down either, Colonel.”

  “Jon.”

  “Jon,” she repeated. “And you may call me Lenora.”

  “I don’t believe protocol will allow that.”

  “Not even in private?”

  “Well, perhaps exceptions can be made.” This time the smile did reach his eyes—brown, sparkling eyes that held her stare for a few seconds longer than necessary. “The lake is just up here.”

  He pointed to a gap in the trees. A shrill laugh and screech pierced the air. Jon grabbed the reigns of both horses and pulled them to a halt. In a flash, he dismounted and pulled a pistol from his belt.

  “Wait here,” he said as he stalked off between the trees.

  The laugh came again—the sound of a young woman. Lenora scrunched up her nose; it didn’t sound threatening. She slipped down from the horse and followed the path through the trees where Jon had disappeared.

  A gap appeared ahead, revealing the crystal-clear waters of the lake. It wasn’t very large, surrounded on all sides by the forest, the tall mountain to the east reflecting across the surface. Down by the shore she found two people, who at first looked to be engaged in a wrestling match. After a moment watching, though, Lenora recognised the stable boy—a young man in his early twenties—and one of the plump maids from the kitchens who looked about her own age. They were entangled together, kissing, groping, and ripping at clothes. She sidled up to a tree trunk and watched.

  “I thought I asked you to wait,” Jon spoke from somewhere behind as he approached.

  “You did. I’m getting used to not having to do as I’m told all the time.”

  “A perilous habit in your position.”

  She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck as he moved closer behind her. It sent a shiver down her spine. The fact that they both stood watching an interesting sexual display sent her libidinous mind into overdrive.

  “They’re not very experienced,” he whispered. The stable boy seemed to be struggling to get the maid’s dress off, hands groping everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and the maid fell into fits of giggles as her head got stuck halfway through the dress.

  “Perhaps we could interrupt and give them some advice.”

  “Interesting notion, Ma’am. Do tell, what advice would you give them?”

  “Well for one thing, I’d advise the girl not to laugh at the boy, no matter how inept his attempts at removing her clothing. It doesn’t do any good to damage a man’s ego in the heat of passion.”

  “No laughter? Rather destroys the fun of the moment if you have to bite your tongue to stop from laughing.”

  “You disagree? It wouldn’t damage your ego if I laughed at you while you struggled to remove my clothes?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then what would your advice to them be?”

  “To slow down, savour the moment. Pay attention to the feel of the touch of hands on flesh. To enjoy the sensations and pleasure they can give and receive from one another.”

  The tingle down her spine intensified at the thought of his fingertips drawing down her body slowly and softly. “Go on,” she said.

  Down on the shore, the two lovers were finally nude. The stable boy fell to his knees and suckled on the plump girl’s breasts. Lenora barely registered what they were doing; her focus turned internally as she imagined Jon and herself down by the water’s edge, enjoying a far more sensual and skilled experience.

  “I don’t think I should, Ma’am. It wouldn’t be professional for me to flirt with my patient. Not to mention the risks involved. Both Barentyn and the Emperor have ordered daily reports on what you do and with whom you spend time. You are being watched closely.”

  “I’m not surprised, though I wasn’t trying to entice you into my bed.”

  He gave her a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. She wasn’t a natural liar. The sexual display by the lake moved to a new level, involving the pair trying to consummate the moment by standing up, presumably to avoid getting themselves covered with sand and dirt. It was comical to watch as arms and legs tried to gain balance in an ungainly manner.

  “It wouldn’t take much effort to entice me.”

  “Oh? I suppose you won’t tell me what would change your mind and make you take the risk?”

  “That wouldn’t be a very good idea. I can tell you that wouldn’t do it.” He pointed to the pair down at the lake. The maid was bent double, her neck squished into the ground, balanced on her forearms, one leg up and over the stable boy’s shoulder. One knee rested on his chest, the other sticking out to the side, and he had finally achieved penetration—though how either of them could enjoy it at such an angle, she’d never know.

  “Perhaps we should give them some privacy,” Lenora suggested.

  “Good idea. We’ll head back.”

  As they reached their horses, he offered his hand once again to help her up. She placed one foot in the stirrup and swung her leg up and over in a dramatic fashion. Th
e motion sent her skirts falling, revealing more leg than would have been acceptable to show, the top of her stockings poking out. From that angle, he would have noticed the lack of underwear on her bare hips. Jon cleared his throat, picked at a layer of her skirt to settle it back in place, and wordlessly mounted his own horse.

  They rode back together, making casual small talk and generally avoiding direct eye contact. By the time they reached the lodge, Lenora’s naked bottom ached, both from the action of riding on a leather saddle and from the dirty thoughts she’d been having for hours, which seemed doomed to go unsated. The only small spark of hope she had was when he helped her down from her horse and gave her hand a gentle but prominent squeeze before excusing himself. If nothing else, she determined to spend her time attempting to seduce the Colonel. Maybe she would even succeed.

  XVII – Jealousy

  After spending the late part of the afternoon in the library with the intention of reading the dirty book and pleasuring herself, she’d found her parts ached too much and resolved never to ride without underwear again. She ate dinner alone—save for her guard—and retired to bed early.

  She’d been assigned the master suite and at first wanted to sleep elsewhere. The thought of sleeping in a bed Averys hadn’t slept in, however, seemed oddly appealing. On seeing the master suite, she’d changed her mind and fallen deeply in love with her new bedroom.

  The walls were painted in pale purple and sectioned with dark oak panelling. There was a large chandelier in the centre of the room, which the servants would light in the early evening, giving the room a warm glow by the time she went to bed. The angular ceiling was very high, and long, dark beams reached across in odd patterns above. There were no murals of nude men and women to creep her out, unlike the bedroom in the palace. Most of all, she adored the large bed with soft, cotton sheets and layers of furs she could pull on and kick off to her heart’s content. She didn’t miss the clingy silk bedsheets at all, nor the snoring husband accompanying them.