The Devil is The Duke

That night, Albert pondered on his friend’s words, wondering if Stevenson was right about him and Emeera. After his hot evening bath, he went back for the final check on the girl and found her fast asleep, her robe, opened to reveal a fair voluptuous breast that rose up and down with her every breath. He looked away and turned to leave the room but the girl stirred.

“Your grace,” she said in almost inaudible tone. He turned to her bedside. “Please don’t leave me.” She pleaded. Albert knew the right thing was to fetch the maid and have her sit beside the girl. He knew tongues would wag if he stayed overnight at her side. He knew he had a reputation to uphold, but Emeera’s large brown eyes drew him in.

“Alright. I shall remain,” he said and she slept shortly after. He sat in the couch the whole night, reassuring her every time she woke.

Around midnight, as he sat reading the novel – Les Misérables, the bedroom door opened and Mary entered. She curtsied as she found the duke seated there. If she was surprised at that, she did not show.

“Your grace, I came to check on the fire,” she said. He nodded. Dutiful, loyal Mary. No wonder Stevenson was infatuated. He watched as she went about her business in silence. It was twenty years later. Mary, who was then but a lass of eighteen was now a beautiful woman of thirty-eight and still unmarried. Albert wondered how she coped with seeing Stevenson’s wife in the village.

When she was about to leave the room, he said “Dr. Stevenson came. Did you see him?” He asked kindly.

“I did not, your grace,” she said quietly and left the room, but not before Albert saw her cheeks turn pink. It occurred to him he never saw Mary as a woman in over twenty years, even when she had been the lady’s maid of his dear sister. He had teased Stevenson when he showed affections for Mary and since then, till when Mary went over to be headmaid of the country estate, he had not given her much thought nor wondered why she was never married.

At dawn, the duke quietly left the mistress suite for his bedroom. It had been years since he tarried all night. He gave instructions that nobody should wake him and slept the moment his body touched his bed.

Dr. Stevenson arrived at 10 o’clock and the butler received him. He was quickly shown to the drawing room. The duke who had just woken, was informed of Dr. Stevenson’s presence and he gave orders for breakfast to be served while he got dressed to meet with his friend. Breakfast was laid out in the dining and the two friends went in to eat. A servant poured two glasses of freshly squeezed juice for the men. As they ate, an idea occurred to the duke. It was a naughty thought but the conversation of the previous night had brought back memories from years ago. Also, he needed to take his mind off Emeera.

“Everyone leave us. And someone ask Mary to come with my mail.” he said aloud and the servants filed out. The duke received only a few mails at his country estate but he thought seeing his friend’s countenance around Mary was worth it. It took almost twenty minutes for Mary to appear with the letters on a silver platter. She went straight to the Duke with the mails.

“Your Grace, Lord Stevenson” she gave a little curtsey and kept the silver platter on the table. Stevenson nodded and became absorbed with buttering his toast. This surprised and amused his host who was watching for signs of embarrassment.

“Mary could you please pour Lord Stevenson coffee?”

“I can manage, thank you,” the man answered sharply. He met Mary’s eyes and immediately looked away. The young woman blushed crimson, making Albert wonder if they had ended their hanky panky. He sat back and watched. “Mary could you show Dr. Stevenson to the patient’s bedroom?” The Duke asked sweetly. They exchanged glances and Mary looked away. In a few minutes, Mary led the doctor to the mistress suite while the duke busied himself with his letters.

“Mary, long time,” Stevenson started with a shaky voice. He coughed, hating himself for showing vulnerability.

“No see,” she replied with stiffened lips.

“I’m sorry for putting you in this awkward position,” he continued.

“Lord Stevenson, sorry, it’s now Dr. Stevenson. You did nothing of the sort,” Mary replied. “How is the missus and children?” She tried to make her voice sound as conversational as possible so he could not detect a trace of old love. They were alone on the second floor corridor where the family rooms were. There were no servants around. Mary walked pointedly like she was on a deadly mission.

“I think they are fine, Mary. Mary,” he desperately needed to see her face but she looked straight ahead, not answering. “Mary can you please look at me?” He said in a choked voice. She looked at him. He paused and she leaned against the walls, with Stevenson almost leaning on her body. It was inappropriate and anyone walking by would know exactly what they were up to.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“I may not be of high birth but I won’t jump into bed with a married man just because he is a Lord. I need to tend to my patient,” she said and left him standing there, lost in thoughts. Stevenson turned to see the Duke watching him with an opened envelope in his hand and charged at his friend.

“Albert! You set this up. I thought you were my friend. Why?”

“Set what up? Thought we were going to see the patient,” the Duke was the very picture of innocence. “I thought you said there were nothing there anymore. Or am I missing something?” Albert added as the men walked into the mistress suite.