Page 17 of The Dark Duke’s Virgin

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

W hat a difference a day makes. Or in Frederick’s case, a night.

He pushed his horse forward at a slow trot, his manor appearing on the horizon, slowly growing from the earth in a way that felt ominous. He had a task before him that he did not look forward to, but it had to be completed, nonetheless. There would be shouting. There would be tears. There would be regret. But, as he had been telling himself all day, it was necessary and very much needed.

Yesterday had been unreal. A situation ripped straight from fantasy—his own. He had tried to fight it. He had tried to ignore it. But in the end, he had succumbed to a desire which had spent a week bubbling away beneath the surface, only to explode in glorious, erotic, completely uninhibited fashion.

At the time, he had convinced himself that there was nothing wrong with what he had done. He and Miss Dowding were adults, it was consensual, so what matter if they took liberties and explored one another’s desires, and bodies, together. Consequences be dammed!

But a night of contemplation and reflection had changed all of that.

He woke the next morning to crushing guilt, the realization that the previous day had not been as innocent as he hoped. No doubt, Miss Dowding was going to become infatuated with him now: she would pester, she would pursue, and he would break as he was want to do. Naturally, it would be found out, his grandmother and others would insist that they wed, and Frederick would be forced into a situation he wasn’t certain he was ready for.

It was for this reason that he woke early the following morning and headed to London. And it was for that reason that upon arriving back home later in the evening, he felt his stomach twist as he contemplated what he was about to do.

Best to get it over with, he decided as he steered his mount down the drive. No sense delaying the inevitable. This was a good thing. It was the only thing. It was… going to be harder than it should have been.

The sight of his grandmother ducking out the front door and waving him over had Frederick’s chest tightening. She had a look on her face that suggested she wished to speak with him urgently, and considering where Frederick’s mind was at, he did not need to guess at why.

“There you are!” she called to him, arms folded, eyebrow raised. “I was beginning to worry!”

“Afraid I might have been attacked by bandits?” Frederick joked plainly. He pulled the horse up then he dismounted, looking about until he spied one of the stable hands hurrying to take the reins.

“You left without saying goodbye,” his grandmother said. “And you have been out all day.”

“And what of it?” He handed the reins to the stable hand and started past his grandmother toward the front door. “Should I alert you each time I visit the washroom, also? And when I am hungry? Perhaps every time I have a drink of water, I shall make sure that you are alerted.”

“Do not be facetious,” she said as she followed after him. “I was hoping to speak with you is why.”

“Oh?” He did not look back, taking the steps two at a time to the front door.

“I have not seen you since yesterday!” Despite her old age, she hurried up the steps and cut him off, blocking the front door. “And I wished to speak with you about something.” Folded arms, a raised eyebrow, and Frederick’s stomach twisted itself into knots.

So, she hadn’t guessed about today, at least. Frederick’s reason for visiting London at such short notice. Not that this made him feel any better.

Had she found out about the previous day, and what he and Miss Dowding had done? Surely not! Unless Miss Dowding had told her, but that seemed unlikely also. Best to play it cool, Frederick decided… even if just the mention of yesterday had his heart pounding and his manhood stiffening as he remembered the taste of Miss Dowding and the way he had made her moan…

“Wh - what of it?” he managed, a shake of the head to center himself. “I am not in trouble, am I?” He then laughed.

She rolled her eyes. “I wished to see if you enjoyed yourself is all. You left quite the impression on those who you were willing to speak with. And…” she scoffed, “those willing to speak with you.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“And…” She smirked. “… if I remember correctly, I seem to recall more than one offer of potential courtship suggested by many a respected friend of mine. Lord Chesterfield, if you will remember?—”

“I am going to stop you there, for now, I see what this is really about,” he cut her off. “In fact, I am starting to wonder if the garden party itself was thrown for nefarious reasons that had nothing to do with you wishing to see your friends.”

“What are you suggesting?” she touched her chest as if insulted.

He looked at her flatly. “I will take a wife when I am ready, grandmother. And until I am, I do not need you playing matchmaker.”

“Well, somebody has to!”

“No, they do not.” He looked warningly at her. “While I appreciate the concern, I will remind you that where my love life is concerned, you should not be.”

“You are a duke!” she protested. “And to be single for this long is?—”

“My choice,” he said, keeping his calm the best that he could. “Now, if you do not mind.” He stepped around his grandmother and stormed inside with his mood thoroughly plummeted.

Why was he even surprised? With his mother and father both having passed, his grandmother clearly thought the task of finding him a mate now fell on her shoulders. Which it did not! But try telling her that. In fact, with the way she had been pestering him these last few days, Frederick was beginning to wonder if she had started the fire herself! Forcing her to move in with him, giving her closer access to his personal life and a greater chance to badger.

A ridiculous notion, he knew, but he would not put such a thing past the old woman.

“And Miss Dowding?” his grandmother called after him, her voice echoing throughout the foyer.

Frederick froze mid-step, pulse rising. An attempt to flatten the shock and fear that swept over his face at the mention of Miss Dowding’s name, he turned back to find his grandmother smirking.

“And what of her?”

“Nothing…” Her smirk grew. “I just saw the two of you together is all. It looked as if you were getting along. Quite well.”

Flashes from yesterday. Their argument. Frederick throwing her on the couch. His face between her thighs. Her body writhing from pleasure as he sucked and licked and?—

“I was just doing as you asked,” he somehow managed, forcing those thoughts down. “Being polite.”

“It sure looked it.” Her eyes flashed knowingly.

“I know what you are implying,” he spoke carefully, “and I ask that you stop right now. Miss Dowding is…” He grimaced. “… my daughter’s governess, and that is all she is.”

“The daughter of a viscount.”

“And your companion, meaning that when it is time for you to leave, I fully expect her to go with you.”

“But—”

“Enough!” he snapped, an action which had little to no effect on his grandmother. “I will not have this conversation with you. Is that understood?”

His grandmother could not have looked more pleased with herself. “Food for thought, Frederick. Food for thought…” She tittered lightly, folded her hands behind her back, and walked on by without another word. Not that she needed to say anything, for her meaning was only too clear.

Frederick groaned and ran a hand through his hair as he watched her go. He had enjoyed yesterday—and not just what had happened in the drawing room but everything before that. The pleasant conversation. The banter. The realization that Miss Dowding was far more than he had originally thought… so much more. But for all of that, Frederick realized now more than ever that it could not go on.

His grandmother was becoming persistent. She would continue to badger. The only way to stop her was to announce unequivocally that he had no desires whatsoever for Miss Dowding, and to do that…

Again, this did not promise to be a pleasant conversation.

It was nearing early evening which meant that Miss Dowding and his daughter should be taking a lesson together, likely one of the main reading rooms. Frederick was about to go searching, steeling himself for the conversation ahead, when Mr. Bonnet, one of the many valets in his employee, appeared from around the corner.

“Your Grace!” he cried as if from shock.

“Mr. Bonnet.” He approached the valet. “I am looking for my daughter and Miss Dowding. Have you seen them recently?”

Mr. Bonnet’s eyes were wide set, his hands fidgeted at his waist, and his chin trembled from what could only be read as fear. A common enough reaction from most of the maids and valets when they were forced to speak with Frederick, only this was a little worse than what even he was used to.

“Mr. Bonnet, is something wrong?”

His eyes somehow grew wider. “I… I should not say.”

He leveled a glare at her. “Speak, Mr. Bonnet. Now.”

He sucked through his teeth and looked away, hands still fidgeting. “Earlier… I was checking on one of the maids, Mrs. Tibbs, Your Grace, double checking that she was up to date on her daily choirs–and she was, Your Grace. She was working admirably.”

“All right…”

“She was hanging out the bedding, Your Grace. Freshly cleaned, they were. Only… well… I do not want to cause alarm but… but… but…”

“Speak, Mr. Bonnet,” he growled, jaw clenched. “Now!”

“There was blood on them! Not a lot, most had clearly been washed off, but there were stains, Your Grace. Fresh ones.”

“Bl - blood?”

“I have seen your daughter since,” he made sure to say. “I checked on her, and she seems fine. But the blood, Your Grace. I thought you should know.”

Frederick might have felt a surge of fear. He might have felt a pang of panic. Worry, for blood on his daughter’s sheets should have caused great alarm. Only… well, he knew his daughter well enough to know the reason for said blood stains. This was not the first time that blood had been found in her washing, and in his mind, he could think of but one reason why.

Slowly, Frederick felt his anger rising. Slowly, he felt his fury gathering. His daughter… for how much he loved her… again and again she disobeyed him. Worse that Miss Dowding had allowed such a thing!

All thoughts of his reason for needing to see Miss Dowding vanished in that moment, swept away by a far more pressing concern.

“Where is she?” he growled, body shaking. Mr. Bonnet gasped. “Where!”

Unable to speak, Mr. Bonnet turned and pointed a trembling finger down the hallway, and Frederick was off and charging.

“Isabella!” he called in fury. “Isabella!”

He stormed through the house until he came upon his daughter and her governess. They sat together in a small reading room, evidently in the middle of a lesson as a needle and thread rested on their laps. Laughing and joking together as they worked, the sight of Frederick sweeping into the room like a tempest put a stop to that.

“Father!” Isabella gasped, dropping the needle and thread. “What is?—”

“I have warned you, Isabella.” His body shook, despite how desperately he tried to control his temper. “Time and time again, I have warned you.”

“Warned me?” she swallowed and glanced at Miss Dowding. “What are you… I do not understand what you mean?”

“Blood,” he hissed. “Mr. Bonnet told me of the blood stains in your bedding.”

His daughter’s eyes went wide, confirming immediately the truth of the matter. A quick glance at Miss Dowding as if for help?—

“Do not look to your governess for support.” He made for her. “I will deal with her in a moment.”

“Father! Is it not what you…”

“Not what I think?” he scoffed, stopping before the two, body still shaking. “Tell me then, daughter. What is it? Why time and time again must I hear from the help of your actions—after time and time again of me commanding you not to partake in them.” He looked down at her for an answer.

He almost relented when he saw the fear present in his daughter’s eyes. A fear of him and what he might do. Frederick hated that his daughter was scared of him, reviled by the very concept. He wanted her to love him. To know how much he loved her. But he needed her to understand that this was not a game, that what he did was for her benefit, and while she might hate him for it, one day she would thank him. He hoped.

“I… I…” She could hardly speak, again looking for support from Miss Dowding.

“Isabella is right, it is not what you think,” Miss Dowding spoke up. “And I would ask that you stop scaring your daughter.”

He turned on Miss Dowding, happy to level his gaze upon her instead. Baring his teeth, he was reminded suddenly of the previous evening… the way he had stood over her before diving between her legs. And the determined look she returned at him…

“I was speaking with my daughter,” he growled at her.

“My student,” she responded coolly. “And we were in the middle of a lesson.”

“Yes, that is why I hired you, is it not? To teach her—to show her what it means to be a lady of the peerage. But from what I can see, all you are interested in is fostering the side of her which I had expected you to quell.”

She snorted. “That is not at all what?—”

“Do not argue!” he bellowed, forcing her to fall back. “There was blood in her sheets, and unless you can give me a reason beyond what I know, then I have no choice but to… to… assume that you have failed her.”

He looked at them both for an answer, not that he expected one. What could they possibly say? He knew the blood to be caused from some scratch or wound she had taken climbing a tree or running when she shouldn’t have been or playing a game not meant for little girls. That was all it could be.

“Well?!”

Isabella looked desperately at Miss Dowding. Eyes wide, it seemed that they were having a silent conversation of some sort; pleading was what it looked like. Such that Frederick fully expected Miss Dowding to lie for her again. Only…

“You are right,” Miss Dowding sighed regretfully. “The blood was caused from…” She clicked her tongue. “We were playing earlier, and Isabella fell and cut herself. I thought I had cleaned the wound well enough, but evidently, I had not.”

His eyes flashed fury, and he was back on his daughter. “You are not to leave the manor without my say so.”

“Father—”

“And I do mean the manor,” he warned her. “You are not to step foot outside unless you are in my presence. Is that understood?”

His daughter looked at him defiantly, anger and fury and loathing in her glare. He matched it, bearing over her, and she relented and dropped her head from shame. “Fine.”

“I really think that is too much!” Miss Dowding spoke up. “The fault lays with me, not?—”

“Oh, I am not finished with you!” He turned on her next, working overtime to separate the feelings of arousal that swarmed him when their eyes met. Again… yesterday evening… the desire to punish her for what she did. Oh, how he wished to. “I told you what is expected,” he said through a clenched jaw.

“And I have done that,” she responded just as acidly.

“You have not.” The side of his mouth twitched. “While I admit that in some facets you have been a boon, they pale in comparison when put beside your failures.”

“That is not—” She caught her tongue, biting back her response in a way that he could see she struggled to do.

“Not fair?” he scoffed. “I knew you were wrong for this role from the first day. And it seemed that I have been vindicated.”

“Father!” Isabella cried. “That is not fair?—”

“Quiet!” he snapped at her without so much as a glance, all attention focused on Miss Dowding. His trip to London and the conversation he’d needed to have with Miss Dowding had plagued him all day, for he had wondered how he might brooch it without breaking. Now, with all that had happened, that hardly seemed a concern. “This role of yours, it was only ever meant to be temporary.”

“I am aware,” she said, unblinking in her gaze.

“It is for that reason that earlier today I travelled to London where I have started the hiring process for a new governess?—”

“Father! Please!”

“—which I expect to be completed within the week,” he continued. “Which means that come that time, your services will no longer be required. You are my mother’s companion, and I think we can both agree that is a role which suits you best.”

Oh, he could see the shock. He could feel the anger. Her eyes widened, glaring white-hot daggers as if she expected to cut him. Fists curled into balls. Jaw clenched. If his daughter was not present, he could only imagine what she might say… and what he might say in response.

Thank God his daughter was present, for Frederick needed it. If it was just the two of him, he had no doubt that this conversation would end the same way it had yesterday. A tempting prospect but an unrealistic one.

“Is that understood?” he barked.

“Is that what you wish?”

“It is what I command.”

Her eyes flashed again. “Then there is nothing left to say.”

“Father!” Isabella leapt up and took his hand. “Please, it is not what you think.”

He pulled his hand free. “It is done, Isabella. And you should be glad that your punishment is so lax. You wound me, daughter. Time and time again I have asked you to behave, and time, and time again you have disobeyed me.”

“But—”

“There are not buts,” he cut her off. “Now…” A final, fixed glare on Miss Dowding. “I suggest that the two of you return to your lesson. Unless there is anything you wish to say?”

There certainly was, and he could only imagine what was going through Miss Dowding’s mind. Was she feeling that same pull as he? Was she struggling to control herself just as much? His eyes flicked over her body, remembered how it felt in his hands, how it had tasted. He needed this conversation done with, to be away from here so he might breathe.

“No,” she said in a snarl. “You have made yourself perfectly clear.”

“Good.” A final rueful glare for the two of them, and Frederick stormed from the room, desperate to be gone from there before anything else might happen.

Once free of that room, Frederick continued through the house, up the stairs, into his room where he stumbled inside and slammed the door closed. Then he fell backwards, pressed against the closed door, breathing heavily as his body shook.

He had done it. He had managed to get through that hazardous situation without doing anything he would come to regret. A necessary situation if a painful one. But it was done, and now, all he needed to do was avoid Miss Dowding as much as he could until she was gone from here. And most importantly, not find himself alone with her.