Awakened by loud knocking drowsily she calls, “one moment please.” With a flourish she leaves her bed, wraps her nakedness in a dark green robe before swinging wide her bedchamber door. “What is it Mary?” “Begging your pardon ma’am. It’s master Eric...he’s home from the war!” In a rush she descends the stairs. Enveloping the weary young man in her arms “Dear Eric how good to see you home safe! What news of Sir Cyril? “Oh m'lady I am the reluctant bearer of truly sad news. The Duke, your husband is dead.” The color drains from her face as stumbling backwards she sits down hard on the cold marble floor. Tears cascade down her cheeks as she screams “NO! NO! This cannot be!”
After several anxious moments she collects herself. “My dear boy I am remiss. You must be chilled to the bone. Come, sit and warm yourself by the fire. Please, if you are able, tell me what befell my husband. “I will m’lady. Know this first that he died a hero and that I am the humble benefactor of his valor. In the midst of an awful skirmish I was set upon by three strong swordsmen. I was no match for their ferocity and was preparing myself for the inevitable when seemingly out of nowhere Sir Cyril came to my aid. He quickly dispatched two of the monsters and valiantly engaged the third when, alas, he was mortally wounded whilst sending the devil's back to hell. I cradled his head in my arms as he drew his last breath but not before he proclaimed his undying love for you m’lady and bidding me to bear to you, personally, the tale of his tragic demise. With all my heart I would, m’lady, that he instead of I was sitting here before you.”
Silhouetted by the blazing fire for a long while they sit in silence save her quiet sobs. He patiently waits on his mistress and cannot help but recognize how even in her time of sorrowful distress he still thrills at her beauty. She was much younger than the Duke and still retained the flower of youth. As a boy he dreamed of stroking her long raven hair, gazing, mesmerized, into her sapphire eyes while passionately they kiss. “Must you now return to the front?” “Excuse me m’lady?” His sensuous reverie shattered. “Oh no. I was wounded in the chest and was therefore discharged from further service.” Will you stay on as groundskeeper of the estate?” “It will be my pleasure, m’lady, to continue in your service.” “As I am now bereft of a male presence in the household I may also need your assistance with other affairs.” “I am, in all, your humble servant.” “Thank you for your courage in relating the heroic circumstances of my husband's death and fret not his sacrifice for he loved you as a son.”
Weeks passed and Eric would see the Duchess daily walking in the garden. She struggled still with the news of her beloved's death and seemed paralyzed with grief. He yearned to see her beautiful smile. Snipping a white rose he approaches her. “Good morning m’lady!” Presenting the flower. “Oh hello Eric.” “And how is your Grace this fine Spring day?” “Not very well I’m afraid. I sorely miss my husband and I cannot bring myself to sleep at night.” “In what way can I serve you?” She gave him a melancholy smile while thanking him for the rose. “Can you read?” “Yes I can m’lady.” “Good then come to my bedchamber tonight and read to me. Perhaps it will help me to sleep, “I will come to you m’lady.”
For three consecutive nights Eric went to her bedchamber and dutifully read his mistress to sleep. Each night, before leaving, he tucked her in while tenderly kissing her on the cheek. On the fourth night, to his surprise and delight, she asked, “Eric will you lay with me? Hold me?” “If you wish, I will m’lady” He lay behind her encircling her body with his strong arms. Contentedly she sighs pulling him close. She thrills with the sensation of her neck bathed in his hot breath and his inability to contain his growing excitement. Yearning for his touch she prays that he will be so bold.
The sweet, intoxicating scent of lilac greets him as he buries his face in the raven hair he had so longed to touch. She shudders and blushes as he kisses her neck and caresses her milky white shoulder. “Oh m’lady I am overcome by your beauty” he exclaims upon discovering her nakedness. Breathless she whispers, “I had been so very lonely and frightened but now with you by my side touching me I can finally glimpse brighter days on the horizon.” Now facing one another they lovingly, voraciously kiss. In ecstasy she moans as he kneads her breasts suckling her swollen, dark pink nipples. His strong hands feel their way along her voluptuous curves, exploring her every secret recess.
Hovering over his mistress goddess, his hips cradled between her soft cream colored thighs, Eric thrusts deep into her core eliciting screams of pure joy. In synchronous bliss they move together consumed by the desire to banish forever the pall of grief that had threatened to suffocate all things good in their lives. Running her finger over the still pink and swollen wound on his chest she asks, “are you still in pain my dear?” “Oh no m’lady your love has cured me of all pain.” Her genuinely happy smile transports him to paradise.
Eric awoke early. Leaving a token of his love on his lady’s pillow he quietly slipped from her chamber fearing that, if found out, their love would be subject to cruel rumour. Sometime later the Duchess stirred roused by the warm rays of the April Sun peeking through her window. Her attention is drawn to a white rose atop the pillow where just had lain the head of her lover. Smiling broadly she girlishly giggles. Waves of ecstasy flow through her body as she recalls their night of sublime passion. Anxious to see him again she hurriedly dresses and rushes down to breakfast only to find him not there. Her heart sinks slightly but she knows that he must be about his chores. “Good morning m’lady.” “Good morning dearest Mary.” “I must say that I am happy to see you smile again, your grace.” “Yes I do feel most cheerful this fine Spring morning.” “One can’t mourn forever don’t you think?” “Yes ma’am I surely do.”
Drifting to a window overlooking the garden. Gazing down she spies Eric tending to the White rose bush. He glances upward and their eyes meet. His glorious smile sparks a tingling sensation deep within her and she longs to feel his hands caressing her breasts, their lips pressed tight. Still holding the gifted rose she holds it up where he can see it and he blows her a kiss. Her eyes are suddenly distracted by the sight of a carriage lifting dust as it passes through her gate and proceeds down the lane. “Mary, she calls, are we expecting visitors?” “Not that I know of m’lady.”
She sits down to breakfast and a cup of tea when she hears voices in the entryway. Mary quietly enters. “Begging your pardon m’lady. There is a Sir Mider here to see you.” “What is the reason for his visit?” “He would not state his business only to say that he needs to relay some urgent news. He is dressed in a military uniform.” “Show him in.” He enters bowing. “Good day, your grace. I am sorry to interrupt your breakfast.” “Not at all dear sir, come and sit. Mary, please bring our guest some tea.” “Thank you m’lady. I am a Lieutenant with the Fifth Cavalry and I served under Sir Cyril’s command. It is with much sadness that I bring to you news of your husband’s death.” The Duchess listens seemingly unaffected by the news. “Your Grace the Duke is dead” he says again as if perhaps the first time she couldn’t hear him. “Oh dear sir I apologize for my cool response but I have known of his death for some weeks now.” “How can that be m’lady for we are only now returning from battle and have sent no messengers before us.”
She stands and walks toward the window. “The groundskeeper of our estate was wounded while on the front line and was sent home to us bearing the sad news. He told us of how the Duke died a valiant death defending him on the field of battle.” “Your Grace I know nothing of this man of whom you speak even so he is sorely mistaken for Sir Cyril was stabbed in the back. Cruelly murdered by one of his own. The cowardly villain was quickly identified by another cavalry officer and the blaggard was by a saber run clean through.” Confused and horrified by this new account she turns to gaze again on Eric in the garden. He is gone. “Madam I assure you that your husband died a hero.” She was too stunned to reply and then she began to shake. She screamed and the color drained from her cheeks as she remembered while making love how Eric had winced when her fingernails dug into a scar on his back. “Your Grace are you alright?” The room spins and all is black.
Written by Gahddess_Worship
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