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Chapter 3

Chris

I swaggered around the town home inspecting every nook and cranny, bringing to attention everything that I did not find suitable--which was quite a long list. Christian took it all well, as I would expect of him he is a fine man, but I caught Matthew rolling his eyes at me a number of times. I supposed I was just going to have to settle a bit, after all, this place was not the same as my beloved country estate where I would much rather be, not having to fret over courting a woman in whom I held absolutely no interest, other than practical ones that were socially required of me.

With a sniff I turned and stared at Christian, the slightest hint of a smile on my face.

"Christian, I need you to run a letter to Ms. Burchill for me, letting her know that I've arrived and shall be dropping by sometime on the morrow."

He bowed deeply and I clenched my teeth when Matthew rolled his eyes again. He was wearing my already thin patience to its breaking point and I feared that I might strike him or worse; that I might forget about Christian being present and take him mercilessly until the tightening of my nerves eased themselves.

"Do you want me to take Matthew m'lord?" Christian asked when he arose.

I looked over and I could practically see the pleading in Matthew's brown eyes. For a moment I thought about keeping him there with me; to partake in some carnal pleasures of the flesh before setting about the utterly boring duties I have to fulfill before the sun arises tomorrow. But I have other things that need to be done without having to fight with the dark eyed devil.

"Yes, take him. Show him how a valet is supposed to act." I said bitingly with a flip of my hand in their direction.

I left the two men standing in the parlor, Christian talking to Matthew in low tones as he explained what they were about to do. I thought I heard the tell tale whisper of resentment in his voice but dismissed it. Christian was too good a man to fall to such pettiness; it was probably no more than my overworked imagination which placed the hateful tone to his voice.

I retired to my room, calling for the butler to bring me the calling cards and missives that had been coming in nonstop since I had arrived here. Tonight was a night of settling in so I discarded those and looked instead at the ones for tomorrow and the night after. There was one from Layfield, another from the Brooks's, and of course the annual ball thrown by the Calaway-Jacbos's. It seemed strange to me, that two men so steeped in death always had the most coveted ball invitations. I had no doubt that Ms. Burchill was looking to attend one so I sent out affirmations of my attendance to Layfield and Calaway-Jacobs. Surely flaunting me at one of their balls would suit her feminine need to rub the other debutants' nose in the fact that she didn't have to bother with wagging tongues if she did not have suitors lined up after the first ball of the season. After all, how many could say that they landed a catch as fine as myself. With a self satisfied smirk I turn my attention back to the pile in front of me. There were too many balls for any one person to attend so I picked out only the cream of the cream of the crop. After all, not everyone can be blessed with seeing me grace their halls with my presence.

My mind already drifted to my wardrobe, thinking over what to wear. I imagined Lady Katie Lea corrupting my splendor by dangling from my arm like a gaudy bauble. Not only did she give the impression of a shrew, but a shrew with detestable tastes. To marry her I would surely have to stock up on spirits just to crawl into bed with her, and then awake to her again in the morn. I do not even wish to entertain those kinds of thoughts!

Still it was an unfortunate situation that I had to address, and soon for surely she was expecting a wedding night full of impassioned groaning and sweaty skin slipping against one another as hands gripped and groped. I shuddered, not realizing that in my horrible day-dream I started to scowl. I screwed my eyes shut and shook my head, my loose golden hair flying out around me. Three weeks, nearly a month didn't seem all that long to me. Perhaps I can set the date for later, much later. Although I must confess to myself that I'll never be ready.

The invites and missives fall to the wayside as my brain tries to think of a way out of this even though I know that there is none. As the darkness starts to creep in, both in the windows and in my mind there is but one bright spot that stands out. Matthew. Even in his hate I take what pleasure I can. If only he knew how he sets me free and how just the sight of his strong back and well muscled arms set me a fire. I purse my lips and growl to myself, chastising myself for entertaining thoughts only entertained by weak minded females. Matthew is nothing more than an ends to my sexual frustrations, nothing more nothing less. After all, I've found myself watching Big Paul, Adam, even Christian from time to time. Matthew is nothing special. And yet as that thought crosses my mine I know it is a lie.

Would it even be possible for me to feel something more for Matthew? The same kind of love harbored between a man and a woman? Surely not, that is completely absurd. I feel nothing for him nor have I ever felt anything for another man really deep, within my heart. The feeling that stirs in me is purely from another, further south organ of mine which is a source of constant frustration. Fisting my hands I get up and begin to pace again, words I have heard preached since childhood plaguing my mind. I did not ask for these desires, I did not ask to be different from other men. This—this plague has been thrust upon me as an unwilling burden. Yet for it, I am damned to hell.

Time continues to slip by slowly, and soon I hear Christian and Matthew conversing in the hallway. Matthew says something smart and in retaliation I hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh followed by Christian reprimanding him. As much as the sound reverberates through my person I know I can not go out and bring Christian to task for it, he was just doing what he was told; teaching Matthew how to be the type of valet that a person of my high public statute requires. The voices fade away and I sink down onto the bed, my head pounding so hard that it feels as if it is going to explode. Wearily I drop back onto the soft down mattress and close my eyes. The rest of the missives can wait until the morn.

Katie Lea

"M'Lady." It was said softly, with that distinct tropical accent, but I still heard him through the partially open door. I turned, trying to school my features into a softer version of the snarl that has been there since Duke Irvines' lackeys had dropped off his calling card.

"Yes?"

"Your uncle be a'waitin' for you in the dinin' room." I nodded and stood, smoothing the wrinkles from the satin top layer of my day dress. More than likely he wants to bore me with details of how I'm supposed to act and what I'm supposed to say in front of my betrothed. As if I care, I'm stuck with him no matter what. I snorted, causing Kingston to turn and look at me.

"Is there somethin' you be needin' M'lady?"

"No, Kingston, t'was merely a sneeze." He bobbed his head and finished escorting me to the dining room--as if I don't know my way. He held the door open for me and bowed deeply as I passed. There was no way around it, I was certainly going to take Kingston with me when I leave this place to start my life as Duchess Irvine. I highly doubted that that prissy dandy employed someone as obedient as him.

My Uncle bid me to sit, and with an eye-roll I did so. He frowned noting it, as if I did not want him to. Uninterested I looked down at my nails as he spoke and picked at them.

"Katherine, love, are you listening to me?"

"Oh, yes of course Uncle."

I conveniently drowned out his words as he rambled on, trying to make sure his niece is the proper lady. Perhaps in public, but in private I could not care less for the frills and rules of this high society. At least with Duke Irvine, I gathered the feeling that I could be the one to wear the breeches--so to speak. I doubt he has a real back bone, he strikes me not as the most brazen of men. In fact, he strikes me as they type who would fancy powdering his nose rather than getting foxed with the boys over brandy as my Uncle had been known to do on occasion. And, at least his name was good an honorable, and wealthy. Those benefits I supposed, should not be so casually dismissed.

After awhile my uncle dismissed himself, no doubt he had something going on at the club that needed his attention, some fight or some wager he must oversee. I wished that just once he would think to take me. A fight was surely more entertaining that sitting around all day as I worked my fingers to bone on needle point. With a sigh I got up and wandered around the expensively furnished room and stopped in front of the window. I peered down into the street.

My eyes suddenly lit up when I saw a familiar form striding towards the house. Forgetting any manners, I shrieked and ran for the door, holding up my skirt lest I trip over it an make a mess of myself. I wrenched the door open before he could lay his hand upon it. I threw myself onto him before he could say a single word.

"Paul!" My brother, that louse, had not even sent word that he would be returning!

Paul wrapped his big hands around my waist and urged me back, looking me over with a smile curving his lips.

"You've certainly grown into a fine young woman." He nodded approvingly. "What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into since I've been abroad?"

I rolled my eyes and produced the note Duke Irvines' messengers had placed in my hand.

"Well brother, it seems as though I am to be married."

Pauls' face fell as he took the missive and read it over.

"Married you say? When did this happen?" He looked at me hard, his eyes centering on my stomach. I laughed and smacked his arm, knowing what he was thinking.

"Apparently our dear parents betrothed me to the heir of their good friends. Uncle posted the banns this morn." Paul scrunched his nose in thought, his brow furrowed.

"The Irvines? Does that ring a bell?" His eyes widened and he looked at me, his mouth agape. "The Irvines? As in Duke Christopher Irvine?"

I nodded my head, and remembered how Christopher and Paul had never gotten along, I never knew why but it seemed to be as if they were like oil and water. I sighed, thinking back to the few times we had met. A couple of them were blurred by the touch of time, I hadn't been to old then and he was no more than the bratty blond that took my favorite doll. Of course Paul, being the protective big brother he is, had gotten her back and returned her to me; after pummeling Christopher first. Paul had seemed to take an immediate disliking to him, although he never really told me why.

"I know, now how about you take me down to the club so I can watch the boxing matches?" I began with a pout. I knew full well that Paul could never resist my pout. Instead of obliging me that insufferable cur laughed and plopped down in my abandoned chair.

"Katie, you know I cannot do that. The club is no place for a young lady, and neither is watching two puglist trade blows." I stomped my foot and put on my best hurt face.

"But, but brother. Please?"

"No!" He laughed as he stood again. "How about we take a ride through the park. I hear it's rather lovely this time of year and if I remember right, you love to be astride a horse." My anger slowly lowered, damn him, he knew my weakness.

"Fine." I said petulantly as I flounced off, my dark hair swinging out behind me as I left him to his thoughts.

It was a beautiful day for a ride through the park, I had to admit, as Paul and I took a winding path at an easy pace. I was too glad to see him again anyway to be truly upset about the boxing. My brother had been gone abroad for so long and of course now that he was here I was asking him question after question and listened intently to every story he would tell me, begging to hear some of the seedier ones, which he refused. Soon he went quiet, and then turned the questions on me.

"And you, Kaite...what do you think of Duke Irvine? Do you fancy him?" He laughed, I must not have hid the expression on my face as well as I had intended.

"He's a Duke." I answered flippantly. "I suppose it could be worse."

He laughed and ducked his head.

"You're right about that Katie, it could always be worse." He sighed and looked over at me, grinning widely. "You're one of the lucky ones." He reached between the horses and patted my arm. "You're betrothed to a Duke. Just imagine Katie, you'll be one of the most powerful women. Only the Queen has more power than you."

"I suppose you're right Paul." And after all, being a Duchess did sound rather lucrative.

We rode along in silence, Paul lost to the thoughts racing through his head, whether they were full of hate for my betrothed or of his travels and I wondering what I would have to sacrifice in order to live peacefully with my husband. I had the niggling doubt that he'd take up residence here in the city so that I am entertain, but atleast when we were married I'd have free reign of the land and could roam as far and wide as I wanted. With a half smile I thought about asking the dark haired Matthew to accompany me; he seemed to be rather...knowledgeable when it came to horses and what not. In fact the look in his eye let me know that he was knowledgeable about many things, some that made my blood run hot. Then there was the blond Christian, he never took his eyes from me the entire time they were delivering the missive. Perhaps even if my husband is a bore I can find other things to...entertain me.

Matt

Christian and I headed back to Duke Irvines town home with myself trailing a bit behind, my hands stuffed into the pockets of my trousers as he kicked at pebbles in the street. Christian glanced back at me raised a brow.

"Don't lag, Matthew."

Grumbling I quickened my pace and caught up to the willowy blond and watched him as he smoothed his jacket.

"So, Mr. Cage, what exactly does a valet do?" I asked him in a voice clearly laced with lack of real interest.

"Call me Christian, Mathew, if you do not mind it." He began, and I nodded. "As for the duty of valet, it is varied. It is a trusted, respected, place to hold and I am honored to have such a place in Master Irvines' fine household." Christian sniffed and seemed to scowl at me for a moment, but then his features were righted again. "I assist Duke Irvine with his morning routine, dressing, taking him to breakfast, errands, traveling with him. Some valets even assist with bathing, although Lord Irvine tends to be private with that task, he has never required my assistance for it."

I shuddered at the thought of having to dress that--that--pig every morning and god forbid it--bathe him even!"Mathew?" Christian cocked his head oddly at me. "Are you ill?" I could help the smile that curved my lips. I am not ill, our Master is the ill dog whom you should scowl at, not I. "No, I'm fine." The rest of the stroll back we both kept silent. Christians' brow seemed to be furrowed as he watched his feet. His thoughts I could not tell, nor did I care to decipher them. They were of no interest to me and besides I had musings of my own roiling my mind as we approached the Dukes' town home.

We entered from the back as Christian explained that even though we are thought of as the highest of the high when it came to staff hierarchy, we still were not permitted to use the front door. That was for guests and of course the Duke and his soon to be wife. The news that he was getting married was a shock to my system, yet it made me smile. Maybe if my Master found that he could take pleasure elsewhere then my services would no longer be needed and I could just melt back into being stable help.

We moved about the kitchen, Christian once more droned on about how the Duke had to eat at exactly on time or else he tended to get antsy and hell hath no fury like the Duke antsy. That last line made me smile, Christian had no idea what his sweet, kind tempered master was really like and all it would take was one word from to shatter that illusion. Still as I opened my mouth to lay his master's deeds at his feet I stopped myself. I had given my word to keep the secrets of the lecherous man, and while I did not approve of his actions and hated him dearly I couldn't bring myself to betray the confidence that he had entrusted me with.

"Come Matthew, there is still more that I have to show you." Christian swept from the room and I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at his retreating back, although as we ascended the stairs I gave into the childish gesture; it made me feel a little better about this newest burden that the Duke had placed on me.

At the top of the staircase Christian turned to me, his eyes serious as he launched into how the Duke liked to have his bed made. I widened my eyes, surely he did not think that I was going to go and straighten up a bed that his royal ass Duke Irvine had slept in when the man was capable of doing it himself.

"You must be jesting with me." I scoffed as we started down the hall, stopping in front of the Duke's room. "It is a joke that I should coddle a man that is old enough to make his own bed." The sentence resulted in a sound slap across my face.

Dumbfounded I raised my hand and pressed my fingers to the stinging area, amazed that someone had dared strike me. I balled my fist, it was deed that wasn't going to go unpunished, but Christian had already turned from me and was talking about the duties that were soon to be placed on my shoulders.

"I can only assume that he plans to install you here so that when he comes to London he does not have to bring me along and leave the country estate without proper supervision." He sniffed as he turned to face me once again. "But I think that he would be better off hiring some urchin off the street, than trust this to you."

I growled and wanted nothing more than to smash his face but I supposed that the 'kindly' Duke Irvine would take exception to me maiming his best slave.

"Well I would rather he did that too, but alas none of us can have what our hearts truly desire." That statement seemed to confuse him, yet I did not elaborate. I just turned on my heels and headed back down to the kitchen to search out some pleasurable company to fritter away the time with, seeing as how my favorite maid had been left behind. Cooking at the stove, I noted a dark haired young woman, short but rather cute, and I sided up to her. I slathered on all of my charm and very soon she was blushing. Later I hoped, that would not be all she would be doing.