Page 17 of The Forgotten Duchess (The Dukes of Sin #4)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“ Y our Grace, would you not rather take a short break? You have been in here for hours, without taking any refreshments. I worry you might start to feel faint soon.”

Eleanor shook her head at Mr. Bradley’s concern, keeping her eyes on her documents.

“I’m sorry to have worried you, Mr. Bradley. I will take a break soon, do not fret.” She said to him absentmindedly.

“I would not be so concerned, had you not said that earlier as well. And you have still not taken so much as a sip of water.” The older man stated with a frown.

Eleanor stifled the urge to sigh, understanding his concerns but still unwilling to comply to meet his requests. Because letting herself take a moment of reprieve meant allowing her thoughts to wander to her husband.

She had managed to stay out of his sight since the argument, unsure of what to say to him if they crossed paths. They had not had any meals together either and Eleanor was distressed by how such details ate at her. She barely slept at night, unwilling to let her heart feel devastated over his appearance in her dreams.

It was pathetic, that even now she still yearned for him, for his touch and the mundane moments they had shared.

She hated it. Hated how she had built herself to stand tall and own her life as a duchess, only for her husband to bring down everything she had curated for a year in a mere matter of weeks. She despised how weak he made her feel, disposable and unimportant.

“Fine. I will take some lemonade and crackers before I head out to the garden.”

The butler’s frown deepened significantly.

“Surely you do not mean to engross yourself in more work, Your Grace. And not in this frigid weather!”

“The weather is precisely why I must attend to the garden today. We have seedlings and buds that must be transferred from the nursery to the garden. And I must be there to guide Herbert for them to be placed exactly how I need them to be,” she shrugged, glancing at the window.

There had been a serious chill in the air all day and the maids had the fireplaces in multiple rooms blazing enough to spread warmth into the hallways. While Eleanor might have preferred to pick a warmer day to work, she had to keep moving otherwise she feared she might give in to the sadness threatening to consume her.

“Your Grace, I really think that you should slow down –”

“I will be just fine,” she stated, rising from behind her desk. “And with Herbert, my gardening session should not take very long.”

At least that was what Eleanor had said.

However, she had forgotten to account for how distracted she would feel while she moved around. Recalling that the last time she had stepped into her garden, she had left with hopes of convincing her husband to share her interests upset her enough that her gardener noticed.

Herbert did not say anything at first, merely assisting her despite the mistakes she made due to her distracted mind. But eventually, his glances and frowns became unbearable for him and then he spoke up gently,

“Is everything all right, Your Grace? You look a little unwell.”

Eleanor found herself unable to lie that she was fine, sighing deeply at the unrest that clouded her mind and being.

“It is nothing. Do not concern yourself too much.” She stated blankly instead.

“I do not think that is possible, Your Grace. You are always so cheerful whilst you work here. It is strange and disheartening seeing you so upset. Did things not go so well last time? Did the duke refuse to take part in your decision to share your likes?” he enquired persistently.

“I would much rather not talk about it, Herbert,” she sighed tiredly.

“My mother always said that shared problems find half of their solutions. I am not demanding that you rely on me, but I would like you to know that I can be more than just a gardener if you need to be. My ears are reliable and my mouth will never speak of anything you utter to me in confidence.” He told her seriously.

Eleanor felt like complaining about it all, like perhaps the involvement of an insider might ease some of her unrest and take away the distress she felt haunted by if he were to give his opinions on the situation.

But she did not want to confide in her staff, as that was how gossip spread. She might not be happy with her husband currently, but the thought of endangering him with her carelessness made her ill with worry.

“Marriage is a difficult thing, Herbert. One can only hope that their efforts would eventually yield good tidings.” Was all she let herself say.

Then she inhaled deeply and pointed down at the neat rows of holes he had dug to put the growing seedlings in.

“Let us carry on. We still have a number of plants to deal with –”

“What on earth are you doing?”

Frederick knew his wife was stubborn.

He had known from the first moment he had set his eyes on her upon his return to his estate. And when his memories returned and he recalled their first meeting, his knowledge was reaffirmed when he recalled how she had stood her ground, despite his accusations.

She was fierce, unrelenting, and determined when it came to the things she cared about. And he had come to admire those traits about her.

Except that now that a line had been drawn between them, she was determined to stay out of his sight. This should have granted him some peace of mind, but all it managed to do was reinforce his concerns for her well-being.

Although Frederick did not attempt to seek her out, he did keep his eye out in an attempt to spot her walking down hallways or conversing with staff members in rooms. But she had restricted herself to her study and her bedroom, handling matters of the estate that required her attention.

It felt suspiciously like he was being given a taste of his own medicine, but then he spotted her outside, toiling away in her precious garden while he shivered indoors and swore that she had lost her mind.

Without thinking, he marched downstairs and out of the house, storming towards the garden angrily.

Eleanor barely reacted to his voice but the gardener paled and turned away with a look of alarm, but Frederick paid him no attention as he was not there for him.

“Eleanor. Why are you frolicking about in this bad weather? You are risking your health, by doing this on such a cold day. What were you thinking?” he asked, irritated.

“I have work to do, Your Grace. Please let me focus on that,” she stated formally, sparing him a single glance before she continued to replant seedlings, crouched down.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Eleanor. Get up and go inside, before you catch your death here.” Frederick snapped testily.

“I do not know why you are here, Your Grace,” she responded coldly without looking at him. “And I don’t know why you care either. We have not seen each other in days – despite living together under the same roof. So, it is not as though you were bothered enough to seek me out then. What I do with my time is none of your concern. Leave me be.”

Her tone bothered him more than her words did for some reason. Likely because it sounded as though she was drawing another line, a wide distance from where he had drawn the first. And this bothered him deeply, especially when it seemed as though whatever cordiality they had obtained had turned into hostility.

Overcome by an immense amount of frustration, Frederick pulled Eleanor up to stand by her wrist and as she had begun to retort in outrage, he picked her up and put her over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked in fright and outrage.

“You are dismissed for the day. Leave here at once,” he told the gardener who had kept his head down during their interaction.

Frederick then proceeded to carry Eleanor back into the estate, depositing her into a chair by a fireplace in the first drawing-room he had walked into.

“Do not move from here until you have warmed up completely –”

“What is wrong with you?” she snapped, looking up at him with an angry expression.

“I should be asking you that. Why must you be so stubborn and rebellious? You are not a child. You should know better than to endanger yourself like that.” Frederick responded in the same arrogant tone.

He needed to put some distance between them, now.

His body clearly remembered the touch of her, clearly craved to have her warmth in his hands again. Even now, he was getting distracted by her plump lips and heaving bosom, nearly losing himself to the need stirring within him.

Eleanor let out an incredulous laugh as she rose to her feet.

“I meant what I said earlier. What I do is none of your business. Why do you insist on making my life miserable, no matter what? You act as though I had requested for this bout of heroism and the truth is I could care less what you think of my choices because you have no right to judge me. Not when you are committed to acting however you wish. You do not get to scold me like some child because I refuse to stay within the role of the unimportant wife that you have set for me.” She said indignantly.

Frederick let out a deep sigh, then he took a step towards her.

“Careful, wife. It seems that the familiarity we have obtained in the last few weeks has given room for contempt. I am still your husband and your duke. You would do well to watch your tone when you speak to me.”

A light flashed through Eleanor’s eyes and she tilted her head back to meet his gaze head-on, her gaze momentarily dropping to his lips before returning to his eyes, as she flushed deeply.

“And if I refuse? You don’t get to pull me around as though I am some puppet made for your amusement, husband. I will not be a toy you play with whenever it suits you, only to be discarded the next moment.” She told him darkly.

“Duchess –” he warned, patience and self-control wearing thin.

“I have no interest in your games, nor do I have the time,” she whispered into the small distance between them. “I will let you have what you’ve wanted all along and allow you to live your life, separate from mine. Let us live separately – as you had planned – and keep away from each other’s business. That is best for us, I think.” She stated firmly, expression unwavering.

This woman… it seemed she was made to test him. And he was not sure he had ever passed a challenge that involved her.

“It is my fault,” he mumbled loud enough for her to hear as he reached out a hand and curled his fingers around her chin, tracing the edge of her lower lip with his thumb. “I have allowed your insolence to go on without discipline. I will not make the same mistake again, moving forward. You have crossed me for the last time.”

Frederick felt her shiver beneath his touch and smirked at her reaction, fighting down a rush of irritation as she tried to slip from his grasp.

“No, no. Enough of that, lest you make things worse,” he told her strictly, tugging her closer.

As though they had been tied together by an invisible string, they came together almost instantly and he kissed her deeply, groaning as their lips met.

Frederick could hardly believe how good she tasted each time, always spurred into a fit of greed by the nectar that fell from her lips. He lapped up every gasp, every sigh, every moan, and the void within him always demanded more more more , each time.

His hands worked quickly, undoing the strings that held her dress close to her back as his lips left searing kisses from her chin to her neck. It was almost amusing, how she easily offered up more of herself when his teeth grazed along a point at the juncture of her shoulder and neck, her hands coming up to grip the lapels of his coat.

Once her dress had been opened, he disrobed her and his actions turned rougher.

After a bruising kiss, he turned her away from him by her shoulder and pushed her towards the settee.

“Kneel on the cushions and hold onto the back of it,” Frederick instructed stiffly.

Eleanor glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes wide at his command and he said in the same tone.

“I will not tell you again. Get on your knees.”

This time, she did as he asked, moving quickly to settle on the settee in a kneeling position. She glanced back at him again, cheeks flushed as she awaited what would come next.

Frederick took a moment to admire her form in her undergarments, letting himself admire each curve and swell of voluptuous flesh.

He wanted to worship her. He wanted to destroy her.

Never just one, but always both.

“Moving forward, I expect that you know better than to go against my word,” he spoke, taking off his jacket as he approached her.

Eleanor’s skin was warm as he adjusted her posture so she was leaning over the back, and her buttocks were sticking out in the air.

“F-Frederick, what are you –”

“Take a deep breath.”

As soon as he had given out the order, he raised his hand and brought it down on behind, delivering a hard smack against the soft flesh.

Eleanor gasped audibly, flinching away from his grasp but he kept her in place with a hand braced on her hip, his grip firm and grounding.

“Tell me, Eleanor,” he murmured in her ear, leaning over her back and pressing his hips to hers so she could feel how affected he was by the sight of her. “When I give you an instruction, what are you meant to do?”

When she responded with silence, Frederick brought his palm down on her behind again, momentarily so distracted by the red flush spreading over the spots where he had hit that he nearly missed the way she whined and groaned.

“Words, lovely,” he muttered against her neck, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I need words. Tell me. What are you meant to do?”

“Obey,” she gasped wetly, unaware that she was leaning her behind towards him.

“Good.” Frederick grinned, bringing his hand in contact with her backside once more, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to bring her to lean against his chest as she sobbed and fought to catch her breath. “Shh, it’s all right. You’ve learned your lesson, I believe. Let me reward you now.”

Slowly, he petted her stomach, then trailed his hand down into the heat beneath her legs, relishing in the helpless way she shook as a shiver wrought through her. He pressed two fingers into her, frowning when she bit her lower lip to keep herself from making a sound, even as she moved her hips in time with his thrusts.

In retaliation, Frederick sank his teeth into her neck, drawing a breathless gasp from her, just as he curved his fingers, the pleasure very nearly overwhelming her completely. He slowed his thrusts, pressing firm, fleeting kisses to her cheek and jaw as he took her to the edge of her release and back, changing the speed of his ministrations.

“Frederick,” she whined in frustration, arching into his touch as he lowered the hand that had been on her shoulder to fondle her bare breasts.

“Let me hear you, love. Every sound, every reaction, all of you belong to me. Do not hide any part of yourself from me.” He growled into her ear.

Eleanor nodded quickly and he pushed her down to her former position over the back of the couch, leaning over her again as he began to thrust his fingers in and out of her, deep and hard.

Eleanor’s moans graced his ears like an orchestra, pitching newer heights as she drew closer to her release.

“F-Frederick,” she cried. “I think I’m going to –”

“Do it, then. Go on,” he urged, tone gentle.

He felt her fall off the edge, burying his face in her shoulder as her body tensed up and her mouth fell open in a silent scream. Then the waves came and she began to quake in his grasp, her knees too weak to hold herself up.

Frederick adjusted them so he was sitting on the settee and she in his lap, before kissing her slow and deep, his heart and mind unwilling to let her go.

He didn’t understand his sudden feelings, unable to comprehend why he felt inclined to demand more, but still, he was reluctant to push her too far, overcome with worry for her. It had him at a loss, and he simply stroked her hair and kissed her, unsure of what else to do.

As though she had noticed his dilemma, Eleanor cleared her throat and spoke up quietly.

“I do not expect anything from you, after this. It is clear from what you have shown me that what lies between us is merely lust, after all. I shall behave accordingly, henceforth.”

For the first time in a while, Frederick found himself at a loss for words.

Eleanor had always been warm and gentle with all of her words and addresses. And now, her tone was cold and sharp, managing to pierce into his chest without hesitation.

“Is that so?” he asked casually, finding himself needing to give her a chance to rethink her decision and revert to her usual self.

She stared at him, expression unimpressed. “Was I wrong? Nothing more lies between us. There is nothing we want more than each other’s bodies. So I see no need in harboring pointless expectations.”

Frederick felt frustrated by her insistence to cling to this ideal. He loathed her decision to hide away her true self, now of all times, disappointed by her insistence to put a wall between them.

Although her statement filled him with discomfort, Frederick found himself nodding.

“I am glad you know that and are willing to accept that. There is nothing more than lust between us,” He told her, trying not to wince at the bitter taste his words left behind in his mouth.

Only lust? He wondered, irritated beyond comprehension.

Was that really all there was between them?