Page 46 of A Tale of Two Dukes

Such misfortune to befall our house that she survives only to succumb to consumption. It claws at my insides, knowing I can’t be there for her, for Mother. As a whore, even one to a duke, I’m no longer welcome in that society and am forced to muck about with the Demimonde instead.

Though I find freedom there, I’d throw it all away to return to the respectable life I once had and knowing that I could be there to aid my sister. And now, the irony that I might soon join her in this malady doesn’t sit well at all.

“Good morning, Miss!” Alice’s chipper voice breaks through the spell, startling me.

The handkerchief drops from my fingers, fluttering to the floor. My movements are slow, sluggish, as if time is moving in reverse. As I go to pick it back up, my lady’s maid sets down her tray and whisks it up before I can get to it.

“Allow me, Miss-” her tone changes as she spots the blood. “Are you ill, Miss? Shall I go fetch the physician?” Pausing, she squints her eyes for a moment, her head cocking in disbelief. After a moment of examining it from afar, she brings the fabric closer to her face. “What are you playing at, Miss? Why splatter red ink upon the handkerchief? Is this some new deviant game between you and the duke?”

Heat infuses my face as she gives me a wink. Ink? It’s just ink? I reach out to grab it, to inspect it closer myself, but Alice dances away, a large grin on her face. Though deep down, I knew the servants were aware of our scandalous activities, having her bring it up sends shafts of guilt and shame threading through my body.

“No, I-”

“You needn’t be coy with me, Miss. I don’t judge what happens betwixt these walls,” she glances down, “or your thighs. So tell me, how does this work?” The maid drops the handkerchief on the table and dances over to the bed, grinning as she fixes it. “Does he waltz in, see the blood, and nurse you back to health? Does his seed carry the antidote for your affliction?”

A thin smile crosses my lips. “Something like that.” My heart pounds as I ease myself into the chair.

Now that I know Mr. Beaumont was lying about my sister, I should be able to breathe easier. And yet, my chest seems to grow tighter with each passing moment. My fingers shake as I bring the heated chocolate to my lips. The smell alone causes my stomach to rebel, forcing me to set it down untouched.

“Miss?” Alice’s voice holds a note of concern, all traces of humor gone. “Miss, are you well?” She hurries over and looks me over. “You’re quite warm. Maybe I shall call for the physician.” Again, she takes on an odd look, her gaze drifting over my body.

Is there something she knows that I don’t? “No,” I manage to croak, forcing the chocolate past my lips. Once it slides down my throat and settles into my stomach, I feel a modicum of relief. “I think I was merely hungry is all. I’m sure it will pass.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m quite certain.” Patting her hand, I give her a small smile before sipping once more.

Perhaps it was anxiety mixed with hunger. Though I cannot recall the exact moment in time, I feel that this has happened before. Just the product of allowing my mind to run away with me.

Turning back to watch as Alice fluffs the pillows and straightens the sheets, my stomach starts to twist into knots. Something isn’t right. She’s doing everything correctly, and yet, with each tug, it feels incorrect.

I bide my time, finishing the chocolate and nibbling on the bread until she takes the tray and leaves the room. Soon, she’ll be back to help me ready myself for the day. Perhaps if I’m quick enough, I can fix the bed with her being none the wiser.

With a strong tug, I upend the sheets, pulling them from their corners. The relief is almost instant. Climbing onto the bed on all fours, I fuss about, scurrying as if I’m an animal. My mind separates for a moment as I catch the duke’s scent in my nose.

Burying my face in the sheets, I inhale the decadence, my body burning as slick trickles down my thighs. What sort of manner of sickness is this? I sit up, my mind clearing for a blessed moment.

The bed is in shambles, not at all looking as I intended. Dragging myself away, I scratch my arms, staring at the mess. What have I become?

When Alice returns, she glances over at the bed, but says nothing as she leads me into the bathing chamber; however, a light smirk dances on her lips. She seems privy to a secret I know nothing about that causes her much amusement.

My fingers shake as I clutch the rag in my hand, waiting for her to leave. I wipe myself down, sighing in relief as I remove the slick from my body. Thankfully, the maid is too concerned with putting the bed back to rights to see the shame practically dripping from me.

It takes several minutes, but soon, I seem to have everything under control. When she returns, she looks over at the soiled linens, her lips turning down into a frown. “Miss, I don’t think you should go out today. It’s not safe for you.”

“I have no intention of leaving the grounds, but I need to rid myself of this room.” Even now, the lingering scent of Birchleigh teases me, taunts me.

I want nothing more than to roll about in the sheets and drag him into my lungs. It’s out of fear for my sanity that I must leave.

“Very well, Miss. In that case, I’ll dress you in something more comfortable and appropriate for the home.”

Her words ring in my ears, fuzzy and distorted. I shake my head to clear my mind, but it doesn’t work as well as I hope. The shift feels like needles against my skin, much like every other layer she forces on me.

It doesn’t matter that the fabrics are light. To me, they feel as if they each weigh a ton. This is certainly not a symptom of consumption that I’ve ever heard of. But then, that still doesn’t explain what’s wrong with me.

Alice glances over, looking at me in the mirror. Her expression is closed, guarded. Turning, I spear her with a glare. “You know what’s wrong with me, don’t you.” Accusation drips from my lips, but in truth, I’m more tired and fractious than angry.

With a soft cough, I watch as she struggles to hide her smile. “I wouldn’t say it’s something wrong, exactly. More like your body is going into heat. I’ll bet my last pence on it.”