Laurel Bennett - Her Gift – the Duchess

Charlotte paced from one side of the library to the next. If His Grace didn’t arrive soon, she would go out of her mind with worry. She raised a finger to her mouth and absently nibbled at a nail. The sun was already setting. Where on earth could he be? It had been hours since he’d delivered her to his home. Hours since he’d left her there in the library, with no more direction than, “ Wait for me here. I’ll not be gone long.” Then, with a quick and rather chaste kiss to her forehead, he ’d left her there. And hadn’t returned. Now she knew why he was considered to be the disappearing duke. It wasn’t because of all the hearts he’d broken throughout the years. It was because he couldn’t be found.

Finally, the rhythmic click of footsteps in the corridor got her attention. She held her breath as the library door creaked open. But instead of the dashing duke she expected, his butler came through the door. Her hopes crashed like waves against the shore. She may as well have him call a carriage for her. Obviously, she wasn’t going to get the assignation she’d hoped for. She had no husband to go home to. Not anymore. Not since the doddering old fool had finally drank himself to death.

“I consider it being cautious, rather than doddering,” the butler said, his nose rising in the air.

Goodness. Had she said doddering out loud? “Apologies,” Charlotte murmured. “That wasn’t directed at you.” She couldn’t very well explain to the duke’s butler that she had just lost her husband and gone through proper mourning for the old codger, could she? He was a doddering, mean old man, not nearly as spry or gay as the butler appeared to be. Telling him the truth would be a disaster. “Have you any idea when His Grace will return?” Or any idea where he is at all, she wanted to ask as well.

“His Grace sent a runner a moment ago. He has been unavoidably detained.”

Charlotte’s heart sank. This was to be the very first time she’d had any sort of assignation. And she had planned so well, choosing the disappearing duke, because he was known for loving and leaving. And she wanted both. She wanted to be loved… well, loved was a very broad use of the term… And left. She w anted to be pleasured, for one single night. For one single time in her life. Then she could retire to the country and enjoy her solitude, her dogs, and her knitting. Charlotte shook away the errant thoughts. It looked as though she’d been left. But not loved. What a disappointing turn of events.

“His Grace asked that I show you to his chambers. He has left a present for you there.” He inclined his head toward the door.

“His chambers?” she squeaked. At some point, she’d assumed she’d end up in his chambers. But not when he was not in residence.

“Yes, my lady.” He started for the stairs, and she followed blindly, lifting the edge of her skirts so she could follow his quick strides u p the grand staircase.

When they came to what she assumed was the duke’s chambers, he stopped, opened the door and stepped to the side. “Mary will be along to assist you,” he said.

“Assist me with what?” Charlotte asked as she stepped into the room. Instead of answering, he closed the door. She wanted to run after him. To bring him back. He obviously knew more than Charlotte did. Charlotte laid her forehead against the door with a heavy thump and muttered, “What do I do now?”

“I believe he means for you to dress,” a silky voice called from the corner of the room. Charlotte spun quickly, relieved and not relieved all at the same time to find a young woman standing in the corner beside a steaming tub of water. T he full bath rested before a crackling fire. “His Grace sent me for your pleasure,” she said with a smile. Charlotte stopped short. She didn’t look like a servant. She looked like a lady. One of odd circumstance, but still a lady. “You are Mary?”

The lady laughed, a soft sound that moved across Charlotte’s skin like satin. “May I help you disrobe?”

“May I ask what your position within the household is?” Charlotte squeaked.

“I am not a member of the household staff,” she said, shaking her head. Her silky blonde curls danced across her shoulders. “I am here for your pleasure.” She had a voice like a siren and a smile that could sink ships. All gracing the most perfectly proportioned figure.

“Yes, you mentioned pleasure,” Charlotte murmured. “Do you also attend to the duke’s pleasure?” She pretended to pluck at an errant string on her sleeve. The words sounded waspish even to her own ears.

A tinkling little laugh was the lady’s response. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

Did she? Probably not.

“I didn’t think so,” the woman continued. She sat down on the edge of what must be the duke’s bed. “His Grace is familiar with your late husband,” she said cautiously, watching closely for a reaction from Charlotte. She refused to provide one, aside from stiffening her spine. The woman’s voice softened even more. “He was known for being unkind in bed.”

True fear crept up Charlotte’s spine. “Who told you that?”

“It’s a well-known fact,” Mary said with a shrug. “That’s why His Grace thought you might like to spend some time with me.”

He pities me. She buried her face in her hands and blinked back her tears. She refused to cry in front of this beautiful woman. When she looked up, the woman was gone. “His Grace is very good at figuring out what a woman needs and then giving it to her,” she said from behind Charlotte’s left shoulder.

“I thought my assignation was with His Grace.” She sighed heavily.

“It will be. Later.” Mary ran the tip of one well-manicured finger down Charlotte’s arm. A shiver crept up her spine. “Do I affect you at all?” she whispered.

“In what way?” She probably sounded like a dolt, but she didn’t know how she was supposed to respond. “ You’re a lady,” Charlotte croaked.

“His Grace thinks you will enjoy me. And His Grace is never wrong about these things.” She made a little tsking sound with her tongue. “He thought you to be the adventurous sort. He’ll be disappointed when I tell him he was wrong.” She took a deep breath. “At least let me help you prepare for later with Trent.”

“Trent?”

“His Grace,” she said with a laugh. Then she clapped her hands together. “I’ll play the part of your lady’s maid, since I’m already here.” She made a spinning motion with her finger. “Turn around.”

“When will His Grace arrive?”

“Trent,” Mary said forcefully. “Say it with me.” She mouthed the word in a dramatic manner.

“He hasn’t given me leave to use his name,” Charlotte murmured.

She pointed to the room around her. “He plans to have a liaison with you later. Of course, he will expect you to call out his name. His real name. More than once, if the rumors about him are true.” She winked at Charlotte.

Heat crept up Charlotte’s cheeks. “What do you get out of this?” Charlotte asked as she swept her hair to the side and exposed the fastenings at the back of her dress.

“I’d hoped for the pleasure of serving you,” she said without even stopping to consider her words.

“That pleases you?”

“Pleasing others? Yes. Because my master, when I return to him, will want to hear all about my endeavors. And if I fail to please you, I will be punished. In a most delicious way, but punished none the less.”

“You’ll be punished if I don’t accept your… offer?” What else should she call it? Dear God, she was out of her element.

“I am here to please you. If a bath and help dressing you pleases you, I’ll do both with a smile. Then I can tell my master that you were extremely content when I left you.”