The Devil is The Duke

Nancy Athelstan came the next morning. She looked dazed at the ring on Emeera’s finger. After they were safely shut inside her bedroom, Nancy opened a barrage of words.

“Emeera what did you do?? The duke married you! How?? That man was a sworn bachelor!”

Emeera wanted to lie and say the duke just decided to marry but she heard herself saying “Because I’m pregnant and he did not want to have an illegitimate child.”

She was expecting Nancy to say aha! At the sudden clarity but she did not. Nancy’s brow still knitted in thought. “Congratulations! So you have been naughty! But Emeera, sorry to say this now but the duke has had several lovers and I’m sure some might have taken in too and terminated the pregnancies with no marriage. Trust me, there’s something else or Albert wouldn’t marry you. He does not strike me as the type of man one can pin down with pregnancy. He is in love with you.”

“I wish.”

“Emeera, I think so.”

“Please he is not. Let’s not even discuss that. So tell me what I am supposed to do as Duchess because I have no idea what is expected of me,” Emeera said.

“You will entertain guests, represent your husband – Oh my God that sounds surreal. My Emeera is now a duchess.” She paused for a moment, her eyes teary. “As I was saying, dear Duchess, you will represent your husband, the Duke of Savoy at events. You will throw fundraisers to help the less privileged around Savoy, you will run this estate, go hunting with the royal family, and be a regular guest at the noble ladies’ lunches.”

“You mean, I will have to lunch with the ladies who lunch!”Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

“Of course. There has never been a Duchess of Savoy who snubbed the nobles. You must even host some of the lunches as the new mother of Savoy.”

“She shall not,” a voice said and the ladies turned to see the duke who had silently entered the room. They rose and curtsied.

“Your grace. The duchess did not tell me you will be blessing us with your presence,” Nancy said, all smiles. The very look of innocent adoration. The Duke looked at his wife.

“She did not know either,” he answered.

“Your grace, you know she is our Duchess now and the noble ladies will naturally expect her to take on the reins of leadership with the women gatherings.”

“My wife will not. I didn’t marry her to play hostess. I married her to be my wife.” He said with a note of finality before turning to Emeera. “Darling, I came to inform you that the servants will be up shortly to move your boxes to the master suite,” he said, ignoring her flaming cheeks.

“Master suite? I thought I would stay in the mistress suite right here like all the other duchesses before me.”

“You thought wrong. This place ceased to be the mistress suite after a house manager moved into it. Currently, there is no mistress suite. We will share my room. You can move in later,” he said.

“I honestly don’t mind staying here. I was the manager so I will simply continue to…”

“You shall not. The servants will be here in an hour to pack your bags,” he said and left. Emeera ran after him.

“Decided? Your grace, what do you mean by decided? How do you decide something involving me without me!” She said as they marched through the large corridors with gold wallpaper that led to his study. They passed a chamber maid (Emeera had learned to distinguish the different maids by their uniforms), but the Duke did not care to lower his voice.

“I am surprised you are offended. I should be the one who is offended. I deserve to be far away from a scheming Jezebel but I have chosen to endure your presence in my room,” he said. They got into his study. “My mother stayed in this mistress suite and destroyed her marriage. My late wife, same mistress suite. You are not allowed to stay there, Emeera. In case that room is cursed.” Emeera wanted to laugh at that but he seemed dead serious. She found it cute that such a big man believed in forces and curses. After the fruitless argument, Emeera left.

She went back to her room and found Nancy smiling mischievously. “He is in love,” Nancy said as they went down to the drawing room to have tea and play the pianoforte.

After Nancy took the first sip of her tea, she turned to Emeera “my dear friend, I told you this is a love match. When a man marries for love, he often says tradition be damned. The late duchess was the perfect “drawing room wife” but not you. You’re his lover.” She said with a wink and a click of her tongue. “Enjoy the passion while it’s there.”

Emeera set down her teacup. “What do you mean by drawing room wife?”

“Oh my dear, those are the wives who host. They are typically from noble families trained to marry the title and not the man. They can marry a brute if he was born into the right title. All he need do is make her ‘Lady Vivienne Longhorn’ and she is fine. He takes lovers and mistresses from the lower noble families while his wife is a mere trophy or political arrangement to decorate his drawing room for guests. She does needlework, plays the pianoforte, wears the brocade in season, attend every ball, know every gossip from the table of the ladies who lunch and turn her eye the other way when the master bedroom is noisy with the moans from his numerous lovers.”

“That can never be me,” Emeera said with a shudder.

“Of course not my darling. Of course it can never be. The man loves you,” Nancy said and sipped her tea.

“You know the circumstances of my union so stop acting like this is some love story because it’s not. The only love story here exists in your fantasies,” Emeera murmured.

“That means you don’t see the way he looks at you…” Nancy shivered and blushed which caused Emeera to lift her eyebrows in a questioning arc. “No Emeera, it’s not just about you. I’m thinking of how my fiance looks at me too.”

“Fiance?? Nancy!! You are engaged?!”

“Yes my dear, I am. And unlike you, I am ready to enjoy my love match with no pretense.”

“Unlike me?”

“Yes! Unlike you Mrs. You-can-move-into-my-bedroom-now! You did not get pregnant by the power of the holy Spirit but you are here acting like you did. So cease the pretense and enjoy.” Emeera laughed. It was so like Nancy to speak carefree like that. She did not care about being a lady. After tea, Nancy left. Emeera went to her bedroom and found out her essentials had been moved to the master bedroom. She thought of the last time she had been in the Duke’s bed and like Nancy, she shivered. She did not want to remember the lovemaking. She wanted it to go away but she also wanted him to do it to her again. She was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.