Two Notorious Dukes

by Norton, Lyndsey

  ‘I say, are you going to come up for air?’ the Prince said indignantly. ‘She’s a ward, you know, Argyll!’

  Argyll continued to kiss her as she moaned softly, but he had to stop eventually, because she was starting to writhe and his erection was so big, that he didn’t trust himself not to drag her off upstairs to a bedroom. By this time the whistles and calls had died down and most people had lost interest. Argyll carefully removed his lips from hers and he looked in her shining blue eyes. He gently caressed her cheek with his nose and whispered. ‘Thank you, my Lady.’ He pulled her upright and helped her to stand.

  She was totally speechless. She stood looking down on him in shock.

  ‘Did you have to kiss her so deuced long?’ the Prince spat playfully.

  ‘I expected my money’s worth, Your Highness, for five hundred guineas I would have expected to have her virginity too!’

  The Prince laughed delightedly. ‘No Argyll, for that you would need to marry her and pay the crown for the privilege.’

  ‘Has the Crown set a bond yet?’

  ‘No.’ The Prince said thoughtfully. Lady Sarah dragged her eyes away from Argyll and looked at the Prince with disgust.

  ‘You would sell my body to the highest bidder?’

  ‘Not me, my dear. The Crown. Your father owes money to the Crown, not me personally.’

  Chapter 2 Fire and Ice

  Elizabeth Audley’s maid was painstakingly brushing her hair. ‘Did you enjoy the Opera tonight, Ma’am?’ she asked in her high pitched girlie voice.

  ‘Actually I did.’ Elizabeth sighed deeply, she shared too much with her maid at times, but she was such a good listener. ‘Lady Verity introduced me to her step son and his friends.’

  ‘Oooh! Ma’am!’ she burst out. ‘Was the Duke of Roding there?’ she asked excitedly.

  ‘Yes, he was.’ She said wistfully. ‘I see what the

  gossips mean, he’s so handsome.’ She looked up at the

  maid in the mirror. ‘He was the one who picked up my

  handkerchief!’ And she sighed again ‘It’s such a pity he’s

  a rascal and a rake!’

  ‘Are you looking for a new husband then?’ the

  maid asked rather impertinently, jerking Elizabeth into

  the present.

  ‘No, Mary.’ Elizabeth said forcefully, her

  expression one of terror and Mary knew just how afraid

  she was.

  Over the years of her service to the Audley

  family, Mary had seen many acts of cruelty and

  barbarism, but the morning she found Lady Elizabeth,

  bruised, bleeding and naked on her bedroom floor, was

  a day she would never forget. She had carefully

  wrapped her in a sheet, called the footman she was

  walking out with and he picked the unconscious Lady off

  the floor and laid her carefully on the bed, while the

  maid sent the kitchen girl for a physician. When she

  came around, Lady Elizabeth was horrified to find a

  doctor ministering to the cuts on her body and she

  swore him to silence. Mary brushed the lock of hair in

  her hand with long strokes and as she looked down she

  could see the scars on her mistress’s back, just peeping

  over the edge of her chemise.

  Mary deftly plaited the luxurious hair and then

  went to fetch the nightgown that was laid out on the

  bed. As Mary offered the nightdress to go over her

  head, Elizabeth loosened the chemise and let it fall,

  pushing her arms into the nightdress as Mary pulled it

  quickly over her body. She held the covers as Elizabeth

  slid gracefully into bed. ‘Will there be anything else,

  Your Ladyship?’ Mary asked softly as she straightened

  the covers and tucked them in.

  ‘No, Mary,’ Elizabeth murmured as she pulled

  the queue of her hair over her shoulder. ‘Goodnight.’ ‘Goodnight, Your Ladyship.’ Mary murmured as

  she went out and closed the door. She went ten paces

  down the passageway, sat in the easy chair and picked

  up her sewing. She would remain on duty for the night

  and would sleep in the day, as usual.

  Elizabeth lay in bed and looked at the ceiling.

  She thought about the opera, and what a fine

  performance it was. She thought about the three

  gentlemen she was introduced to, the Duke of Goring

  was out of the question. The Earl of Warminster was a

  fairly handsome man, but he was only interested in

  money and was probably as profligate as his father. The

  one that caught her eye was definitely the Duke of

  Roding, with his fine looks and dark hair. She vividly

  recalled his expression as he handed over the

  handkerchief. But then she knew he wasn’t interested in

  marrying anyone. The gossips said so. He was a

  scoundrel and a rake and would think nothing of

  seducing a married woman, but if she was unmarried or

  widowed he didn’t want to know.How strange I’m

  attracted to the one that wouldn’t want to know me.

  She thought drowsily and her mind slipped into slumber

  with Robert Bosworth’s eyes glowing in the dark.

  Robert Bosworth climbed into the interior of his coach and sat opposite Abigail Beresford. She opened the collar of her cloak and revealed a dress as transparent as Lady Wentworth’s.

  Robert groaned as his manhood throbbed again. ‘You are a vixen.’ He murmured as he whipped his hat off and slid off the seat onto his knees. His cloak fell about his calves and he snapped open the fastenings of his britches, yanking the flap down to reveal his throbbing member to a giggling Abigail.

  She had slid her backside to the edge of the seat and was slowly in the process of lifting her hem. He smiled as he saw her shapely legs encased in white silk and beribboned garters. He stroked his fingers up the silky legs until he encountered her silky flesh and his smile widened as she opened her legs as wide as the carriage would permit. She plucked her mons pubis, so she looked like a little girl and his penis became so engorged it ached. There was no waiting or teasing for him tonight. He plunged into her like a tuppenny whore and didn’t even kiss her, just opened the front of her gown and buried his mouth between her pearlescent breasts. She gasped as he plunged in, but still her hips rose to meet him and it was harsh and frantic as he glided inside her with long quick strokes. He clutched her bare thighs to hold her still as he pummelled her for her first orgasm and sucked harshly on her nipples.

  ‘Oh! God! Robbie!’ burst from her as her internal muscles went berserk. He forced himself in to the hilt as he explosively spurted his seed into her and he held it as they moaned at the ecstasy of her pulses. He wrapped his arms about her and dragged her off the seat to sit on his manhood and it made her writhe and moan. ‘Oh! God! Robbie!’ she murmured again. ‘You’re so good.’ She sighed in satisfaction. ‘I’m going to miss you when Roderick gets back from India.’

  He gently kissed her cheek and rubbed his cheek against her hair. ‘You’ll miss me before then, I should imagine.’ He muttered.

  ‘Why?’ she demanded and pushed her top half away to look at him in the dim light of the carriage.

  ‘Verity Argyll is setting me up for marriage.’ He said calmly.

  ‘Well, that doesn’t mean that I have to lose you.’ she said vindictively. ‘Most married men have mistresses!’

  ‘Accept your husband.’ Robert said firmly ‘and anyway, you’re a diversion Abi, just a diversion,’ and to stop her from talking any more he kissed her and explored every inch of her mouth with his tongue. By the time he broke the kiss she was already writhing on him, so he laid her carefully back on the seat and tupped her aga
in, but this time he was slow and deliberate. Pushing in to the hilt and then pulling back almost to the point of withdrawal, making her gasp before he pushed in again. He held her knees to keep her legs as wide apart as possible and he watched his member as it vanished and reappeared from the depths of her wanton flesh. She moaned, groaned and thrashed her head from side to side, as she clutched at his shoulders and panted. This time her orgasm was more explosive and she almost bucked like an unbroken colt. If he’d not had his hands on her hips at the right moment, she would have thrown him off. He pushed in and enjoyed the throbbing and contractions of her passageway. As his manhood shrivelled away from her he sat back on his heels and just looked at her sex. It was certainly well used, even by him, and he had a sudden picture of Elizabeth Audley in the same position. He was overwhelmed with the desire to kiss, lick and suck her and his manhood stood up at the thought. But he focused on the body in front of him and he almost gagged at the idea of kissing, licking and sucking Abigail. Instead he grabbed her knees harshly and plunged in again and tupped her to the point that she screamed for mercy. He shrank away again and sat back with a satisfied sigh. He carefully pulled her gown down to her ankles and folded up the front of his britches, hiding his manhood again.

  ‘Are you satisfied, Lady Beresford?’ he murmured as he picked his cloak up and swirled it around his shoulders.

  ‘Excessively, Lord Bosworth.’ She intoned as she hefted her rather large breasts back into the bodice of her dress.

  Robert sat on the seat and had his hat in his hands. ‘How do you get your dress to be transparent?’ he asked innocently.

  She smiled knowingly. ‘Water.’ She said as she pulled her cloak about her shoulders.

  Robert tapped on the roof. ‘Hanover Square.’ He said loudly. ‘Water?’ he questioned.

  ‘Yes, it’s only muslin, so it has to be sprayed with water to make it see through.’ She giggled like a naughty girl and Robert almost cringed. He’d not really appraised his feelings towards Abigail, other than she was an excellent candidate for ravishing. He certainly wouldn’t marry her. He was aware that being a Duke and sitting in the House of Lords, he needed to marry a decorous and demure woman, not a harlot like this one. Still that was Beresford’s problem and he was getting to the point that he would stop rodgering her anyway. He had tried not to wonder how many other men were sampling her wares. They chatted amiably until the coach pulled up outside the red brick townhouse of her husband. The footman opened the door and held out his hand. Abigail skipped out of the carriage and up the steps before she turned to wave at him.

  ‘I must separate myself from her.’ He said as he again thought about his response to her body.She served a purpose, but that time is over and I can do without getting shot by her husband!

  He looked at the footman and said ‘Home.’ The man nodded and closed the door. The journey was quick as there wasn’t much traffic on the roads.

  Robert climbed wearily down from the carriage and sauntered up the steps into his ornate and grand front porch. He only lived across the square from Argyll. He wondered what Argyll was up to as he placed his hat on the hall table, swirled his cloak off and gave it to the butler, and went into his study. He poured a brandy and sipped it contemplatively by the fire.

  Watching the flames leaping out of the coals made him think about Lady Elizabeth Audley and the flames in her hair. She was so small and she only just reached his armpit. He thought again about having sex with her and his manhood stood up again. ‘You can shut up.’ He murmured at it. ‘You get me into more trouble than anything else.’ But he thought about how small her body seemed and tried to imagine her naked and sat on his lap, like Abigail had been in the coach and couldn’t. He suspected she would be like a china doll and break if he tried to make love with her. He threw the rest of his brandy down his throat and went up to his room to find his valet, Burke, just finishing filling the bath.

  ‘I assumed you’d need one tonight, Your Grace?’ he said amiably.

  ‘I do indeed.’ Robert said as he stripped off his clothes and dowsed himself in the hot water, soaped his genitals thoroughly two or three times and then just sat in the water. He lay back against the towel and gently rubbed the round indented scar in his shoulder.

  ‘Would you like me to see to that, Your Grace?’ Burke asked as he came back with some more towels. He swished his hands in the water, lathered them with soap and proceeded to massage all the muscles in Robert’s right shoulder, both front and back.

  He groaned as the muscles unlocked and the pain receded. ‘That’s heaven, Burke. It didn’t help tonight when Abigail Beresford dug her thumb in it.’

  ‘I really think you should let a proper surgeon have a look at it, Your Grace.’ Burke murmured.

  ‘No sawbones is going to dig around in my shoulder for the fragments.’ Robert said sharply. ‘I had enough of that at the time. Bloody army surgeons.’

  ‘Well, at least they got out the material, Your Grace, otherwise you would have died!’

  ‘That I would, Burke, that I would.’ Burke finished his ministrations and Robert lay with his shoulder in the water until it was nearly cold. He rubbed himself dry and went into his bedroom, throwing himself face down on the bed, he groaned loudly as Burke covered him over with a sheet and eiderdown, blew out all the lanterns and went out.

  He woke at half past four, bathed in sweat and wrapped in his wringing wet sheets. He knew he was dreaming about Flanders, India or Copenhagen again. He dreamed every time the wound ached.It’s going to rain tomorrow.He said to himself as he again massaged the round indentation.It only aches like this when it’s going to rain.He thought back to the campaign in Flanders, when it was so foggy you couldn’t see the French, the oppressive heat in India and Copenhagen, when it was a stand off over a bloody fleet. He smiled as he recollected the pretty Danish girl that had tended to his wound, after the surgeon had finished digging in it.

  ‘Are you alright, Your Grace?’ Burke asked as he opened the door a crack.

  ‘Yes, Burke. I was just dreaming.’

  ‘Can I get you anything?’

  ‘No thank you, Burke. But you should be in bed.’

  ‘I was just on my way, Your Grace.’ Burke said calmly and quietly shut the door. Burke had been there that fateful day. The day he had been shot, the day he had been told his whole family had died from the morbid sore throat and he was now a Duke and would have to go home. He rolled on his side and again recalled the devastation he felt at the news that his parents, his elder brother and his wife and children, and his little sister were all dead. He gazed into the flames of the fire and saw again the battle field as they worked to enclose Copenhagen in a siege. He felt again the searing pain in his shoulder as the lead ball tore into his flesh and broke his clavicle as the mortars dropped all around him. Then Burke was there, trusty, faithful Sergeant Burke, he lifted Robert up as if he was a maiden and ran with him back to the surgeon’s tent.

  Eventually he dozed off, but he slept fitfully until daybreak. He was up, washed and dressed before Burke even came to open his curtains.

  ‘Good morning, Your Grace. What is on for today?’

  ‘Not much, Burke. I’m supposed to accompany Argyll to the House sometime today, but it’s not that important.’ He went into the breakfast room and helped himself to breakfast.

  The footman announced Robert to the ladies and they genteelly stood for him as he entered the drawing room. ‘Good morning Lady Verity, Countess.’ He said formally to the occupants of the room and bowed as etiquette dictated that he should.

  ‘Good morning, Robert.’ Lady Verity answered and resumed her seat. ‘Do sit down, John shouldn’t be long.’ Robert dropped into a wingback chair by the ornate fireplace. ‘And what terrible trouble are you two going to get into today, then?’ Lady Verity asked acerbically.

  ‘We are going to sit in the House for the day and get drunk at Boodle’s tonight, I should think!’ Robert turned his head and looked at Lady Elizabeth and was s
urprised to see that she had moved nearer to the window. He was suddenly captivated at the way the sun released the fire in her hair. Unlike the previous evening, Lady Elizabeth’s hair was not harshly restrained or curled into ringlets, but tumbled over her shoulders in a blazing cascade. She had her head bent as she concentrated on the needlework in her hands, but her profile was exquisite, with the sunny window behind her. Robert suddenly found his throat dry and abruptly turned his attention away from her, before his groin could give him away.

  Lady Verity slowly went and summoned a footman and she smirked while she did it.Oh! Yes! My elusive Duke. I can see it in your face already; she takes your breath away.The footman arrived and she asked for tea.And you’ll be just what she needs. A kind and caring husband!She knew it was an almost impossible hope that Elizabeth would agree to marry anyone, after her last marriage, but Verity had her money on the Duke of Roding winning her around, without even realising he was doing it. All she needed to do was promote him as the knight in shining armour and try to bury some of his more saucy escapades. She already knew he was tupping Abigail Beresford in his or her coach at anytime of the day! And there was a certain Lady Wentworth who he tupped on the upper landing of her St. James Street townhouse, much to the disgust of her husband, who was playing Faro in the salon at the time. The silly Lord Wentworth tried to skewer Robert with his epee in a quiet corner of Hyde Park and only managed to get himself a trip to the surgeons. Robert skewered Wentworth’s left calf, right thigh and left him with a six inch gash across his middle that the surgeon had to cauterise. Robert walked away without a mark. He was an exceptional swordsman and he was a crack shot with pistols. Anybody who wanted to offer him to a duel would have to be very brave.

  The tea arrived and Lady Verity made small talk ‘I heard that you’re the talk of theton, Robert?’

  ‘What are they saying this time?’ he asked without particular interest, because he’d most likely heard it anyway.

  ‘I heard you duelled with Lord Basset last week.’