The Compromised Duchess

Chapter 5

Grayson watched the little fiery vixen in amusement as she stalked majestically back to the brightly lit ballroom. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. It was refreshing to meet a woman who did not cower and flirt, but was not afraid to hit him and call him names. He heard a rustle in the bushes behind him and turned quickly.

Lord Giles stood there, a murderous look on his face. "You cur!" He spat, clenching his fists. "Arrogant bastard. You the only reason you kissed her is because you knew I want her too."

Grayson stared at him incredulously, and then laughed, "Rosehaven, if you seriously think I'm after you, you need to have your head examined."

"I know you are out for revenge" Giles spat, coming closer to the Duke, his eyes reflecting the fierceness of his emotions. "You have still not forgotten, have you? Stay away from Lady Abbington, she's mine."

The duke's features hardened and he instantly became alert. Apparently, Rosehaven was taking this matter far too seriously to be laughed off as the mere ravings of a jealous lover. "I do not respond well to threats, Rosehaven," He said, his voice now a low growl in his throat. "This you should know by now"

Giles held his ground and faced off with the Duke, described as one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, and a favourite of the king. He could feel himself shaking with the rage that consumed him, and he took several deep breaths to calm himself.

"I am well aware of your devilish capabilities Grayson. In fact I have just witnessed you in action. You took advantage of her innocence and forced your.....attentions on her. Hardly the work of one so well bred, wouldn't you think?"

A slight tic appeared just above Lord Grayson's left eyelid. A sure sign he was struggling to hold on to his temper. "Watch what you say," He said softly "I wouldn't want you to say something we will both end up regretting. However, I am prepared to dismiss your insults tonight, next time I might not be so generous. Good evening Rosehaven"

The Duke spun on his well heeled boots and strode purposefully back into the ballroom, leaving Lord Giles staring at his back in complete and utter hatred.

Lord Giles cursed, deliberate and fluently. The bastard had treated him as though he were a minor disturbance, an ant that he could simply swat away carelessly. Well, he would make Grayson sorry for dismissing him, and as for Laurel, He broke into an evil smile as a thought occurred to him. Of course, she would pay for her perfidy, he would see to that.

*****

"Shall I have some soup brought from the kitchen My Lady?" Laurel's maid, Agatha asked as she watched her mistress pace restlessly around the elegantly furnished bedchamber, her brow knitted in concern. "Or perhaps some medicine for your headache?"

Laurel paused mid-stride and shot her maid an irritated look. "I told you Agatha, I do not require anything from the kitchens or wherever. I simply need to think."

The maid raised an eyebrow in surprise at her mistress' curt tone. Usually Lady Laurel was always gentle and had only kind words for her. "Pardon me My Lady, I was simply concerned."

Laurel resumed her furious pacing, her mind filled with thoughts of the two men who had kissed her. She was certain Lord Giles' kisses had been sincere, and she smiled at the memory of the two of them together. No doubt, she could place herself in his care and she would be sure he would never compromise her reputation.

The Duke however, was another matter. She grimaced as she recalled the wanton way she had responded to him; not at all like the well-bred daughter of a duke should respond. Merciful heavens! What evil had possessed her so?

She was drawn out of her reverie by a sharp knock. She motioned for her maid to check the door and quickly crossed the plush green carpet, to scoop up her robe from the divan.

Agatha opened the door slightly and peered through the crack, then quickly withdrew and opened the door wider with a curtsy, as the duchess swept regally into the room.

"How is the headache?" she asked, taking one of Laurel's hands and stroking it. "You should be sleeping dearest."

"I know Mama" Laurel sighed, seating down on the divan. "I just feel a bit restless."

The duchess studied her daughter's face, noting the tightness around her eyes and mouth. "Did something happen at the ball?"

Laurel paused momentarily, torn between telling her mother the truth or simply denying. Then she shook her head slowly. "No mama, nothing happened. Perhaps I had too much lemonade, you know how the lemons give me headaches."

Lady Abbington nodded, and rose from the divan, her silk skirts making a soft swishing sound. She placed a fond kiss on her daughter's mane of dark hair. "Sleep now dearest, you need your rest."

Laurel rose too. "Good night Mother."

She followed Lady Abbington to the door and shut it softly after her. Then she dismissed her maid, and divested herself of the robe, moving to the bed and slipping beneath the silk covers and shutting her eyes. However, sleep would not come, and after a few hours of tossing about restlessly, she got up and donned her robe once more, then fetched a candle from the dresser and lit it. The huge grandfather clock in the hall, struck two in the morning as she approached the door. Laurel opened the door and walked down the dark hall in the direction of the library, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the carpet that ran the length of the hallway.

She paused before the ornate door of the library, listening to make sure no one was within, but then she heard voices and whispering. She frowned at the door, wondering who would be about at this hour, then set down the candle and gripped the door handle tightly and opened it slowly. There was a fire burning low in the fireplace, casting long shadows over the bookshelves. The whispering and moaning grew louder, and she followed the sound, then stopped in shock at the sight before her.

Benedict lay sprawled on the carpet, naked as the day he was born, and on top of him, also naked, head thrown back in ecstasy, moaning softly, was her best friend, Lady Amelia Farnsworth.

Laurel gasped in horror, and fascination as she watched the two of them. Amelia heard her gasp and opened her eyes, eyes that mirrored Laurel's horror.

She shrieked and sprung off Benedict, grabbing her discarded gown to cover herself. Benedict swore, a vicious curse that made Laurel blush, and sat up, blinking at his sister in irritation.

"For heaven's sake, what are you doing awake at this late hour?" Benedict groaned, a hand over his eyes.

"Oh my god!" Amelia murmured, shaking, her face pale. "Laurel.....I...I...I never meant for you to find out like this"

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Laurel couldn't help the sarcasm that dripped from her words, "Is there any other way?" she replied. "Perhaps I should leave so you two can continue your.....er...tryst."

"Be quiet" Benedict said sharply, his look menacing enough for her to take a step back. "Not a word of this to anyone, Laurel, or so help me I'll throttle your neck."

"Who would I tell? Mother?" Laurel laughed "She'll have the two of you in front of the priest before noon tomorrow, she will be so glad to finally have you off her mind. How long has this been going on? Or is it none of my business?"

"Laurel, dear sister." Benedict said through clenched teeth "Get out"

Her chin lifted defiantly. "I came here for a book, and trust me, dear brother, I do not intend to leave without it."

Amelia groaned again and shut her eyes as if hoping she would wake up from the nightmare. "Laurel" she whispered. "Please"

Laurel's heart broke for her friend. "Forgive me Amelia, I am being selfish. Will I see you in the morning?"

Amelia nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks now. "Thank you"

Back in her bedroom, Laurel leaned against the column of her bed and exhaled the breath she had been holding. Now she knew that sleep would be impossible, not with so many thoughts clamoring for prominence in her head.

"Oh my!" she whispered. Placing her palm against her hot cheek sliding down to the floor, she shut her eyes and a few minutes later, drifted into a fitful sleep.