Page 25 of In Service to the Duke

The darkness encroaches as I sit there, rocking back and forth as I try to process everything, condensing it into a pretty package I can digest and pick through. What I need is a moment to breathe and figure out what exactly is going on.

So many conflicting emotions swirl through my brain, muddying my thoughts until I cannot find the path out. There was a moment there between us. I know it as intimately as I know my right hand.

I let him do things to me. Things which would cast me out of society as a pariah. I could have said no, fought him harder, but I didn’t. I am just as guilty as he, a co-conspirator in this deviant game.

And yet, he pulled away.

Well, more than pulled away… Pain erupts in my heart, not physical, yet strong enough to make me almost crumple forward until my head touches my knees. None of this makes sense. The words he said, the things he made me feel…

None of this makes any sense.

My body betrays me as I sit there, my mind whirling about. Of course, he’d spurn me. He is a duke, after all. And I’m just… I’m just a lowly governess no one really cares about. Despite knowing this, I find I crave him even more.

All I want is to be back in his arms. I don’t care how much he makes it hurt. Just having him touch me makes the noise in my head stop. With him, I feel as if I’m finally breathing for the first time. It’s so cruel to have him tear those sensations away without another thought.

Tears slide down my cheeks as I clutch my midsection. This morning’s breakfast lies heavy in my gut as I tip to my side and curl in on myself. I should be in my bed and not lying here on a dirty floor.

But, for some reason, this feels fitting. As wonderful as he made me feel, I also feel sullied and used. Though he spoke highly of not ridding me of my innocence, I fear he’s already done just that. He’s already taken liberties which no one else has been allowed, but instead of repulsing me, I want him to do even more.

It would be so easy to expose him in front of his family, forcing his hand to marry me and give me everything he promises yet doesn’t do. But then my mother would win, and I would lose. I don’t want the duke like that.

I want love, unrequited, the type that seems to only appear in books. Perhaps I’m foolish to entertain these romantic notions, but it’s what I’ve wanted since I’ve understood the word. Love is what’s absent from my life, and to get it by force the way my mother urges, feels wrong.

The very thought of trapping him makes me feel even more grimy and tainted. With a pitiful groan, I force myself up and continue on to my bedchamber. Besides, I’ve been gone long enough that others might worry.

As I enter the room, I blink about, the bright light assaulting my eyes. It doesn’t appear that anyone else has been in here. That’s a relief at least. Hurrying out of my clothes, I slip beneath the covers and turn onto my side.

Now, if anyone comes in, I won’t have to pretend as if I’m ill. Every inch hurts as I force myself not to cry. Sure enough, after only a handful of minutes, a soft knock at my door rouses me.

A maid steps in, her brows pulled down in concern. “Are you still ill, Miss?”

“I feel wretched,” I manage to croak.

“The physician is here to see Her Grace. I can have him check in on you when he is done?”

At this point, I must give credence to the lie I’ve already set in motion. Turning to the other side, I give her a pitiful nod, hoping to convey my misery in my gaze. With a slight bob, she disappears, leaving me in the room again. I curl in on myself, letting the errant tears loose.

I don’t dare do this in front of Blackport. Knowing him, such weakness would not be tolerated. In truth, I have no earthly idea why this vexes me so. If only I could eject him from my mind and body. But I’m afraid I’m already branded by his touch.

Minutes go by like hours as I await the doctor, further guilt compounding on the sludge oozing through my veins. He should be here to attend the dowager duchess and not give one thought to my imagined ailments. The longer I lay here, however, the more my head pounds and my stomach twists until I’m sure to be a perfect patient when he makes his appearance.

The soft knock at the door sets my hackles on edge as I pull the covers further up my body. Will he be able to see through this ruse? I contemplate sending them away, but the door opens before I can say a word.

The doctor, a portly, friendly sort of beta, ambles into the room, followed by the dowager duchess. She leans heavily on a cane as she shuffles inside, her eyes wide with concern. She quivers with every step she takes, pausing to cough into a handkerchief every so often.

The doctor turns to her, his brows furrowing as he watches the true patient. Though an odd look passes between them, neither says a word in chastisement to her being out of bed. But then, could a doctor order about one such as she?

She hobbles over to the bed and sits down, her gaze soft and concerned as she runs her hand over my arm. Leaning forward, she takes in a quick breath, her eyes narrowing as she takes in my pitiful state. Does she smell Blackport on me? Is the game up before it’s even started?

“I came as soon as I was made aware you were ill,” she mutters, her gaze turning back to that warm, caring expression I’m used to seeing on her. “It seems as if the servants in this house wish to not ‘worry’ me needlessly, but while you’re under my roof, I am in charge of your care. Goodness knows I cannot leave such a task up to my Robert. He wouldn’t know care if it came up and bit him on the rear end.”

Beside her, the doctor coughs and smothers a smile, but I don’t dare react to what she’s saying. However, Her Grace gives me a conspiratorial smile, setting my nerves at ease.

“Please, Your Grace,” I murmur, doing my utmost to keep my tone neutral. “I’m sure Blackport is a perfectly affable man given the right circumstances.” Fire heats my cheeks as I defend the duke who so rudely shoved me away after dangling the promise of pleasure in my face.

If she sees my reaction, she makes no comment. With a soft groan, she heaves herself off of the bed and mills about as the doctor takes her place. With a kind smile, he puts his bag next to me and pulls out an odd device.

Bits go into his ears and the other he rests upon my chest. Closing my eyes, I let myself drift, wishing it was Blackport listening to the rapid staccato of my heart instead of the prim and proper doctor. Taking in a deep breath, I do my best to quell those errant thoughts, not wishing to give anything away as he examines me.