"I look forward to a future for our families."
The Baron had said.

Her ladyship Maybelle Fallon Hamilton, the Duchess of Sussex, frowned in thought as the words rang in her memory, consciously maintaining a polite smile on her face while the Baron exited the dining hall with her husband beside him.

Then it occurred to her!

This was supposed to be the fifth time the Baron was dining with them since she hadn't been around for two months on account of her being with her younger sister who had just been delivered of a boy in their country estate, that much had been said at the table.

Her eyes followed her husband as he led the Baron to the entrance, trailing slowly behind them.

The Baron has been his childhood friend, she was aware, though separated for a while on account of the Baron's French heritage and the Duke's political pursuits, there must have been a lot to discuss about within this period of the Baron's presence on English soil, she shouldn't let her thoughts stray so far she chided herself, but there was something more, a kind of understanding privy to them that had only succeeded in making the dinner a more private matter, and despite the fact that she was still ridden with the tiredness of the journey, she was grateful to have stayed till the end of the meal.

They two men shared another laughter, before the Baron walked up to her, his weight on his fashionable walking stick as he approached and bade her farewell with a kiss to her cheeks, minutes later, the footman shut the door.

Her husband turned to look at her for a minute, and drawing her into a hug, placed a kiss atop her head.  "May, welcome home my love. You are exhausted. How was your journey?"

She permitted a little smile, "London is dreary at this time of the year and the roads were a little short of an eyesore."

"I can imagine, and how does Kent fare?"

"The Earl is besides himself in ecstasy at the birth of his heir. Hermione and her son is very strong."

He chuckled at that, leaning in to drop another kiss on her head. "You had quite a journey. You should get some rest."

"And you have been doing quite well?" She asked the moment he began walking past her.

His shoulders stilled for a moment, but he continued walking in the direction of his study. "Well enough. We will talk in the morning, goodnight My Lady."

It took her less than a minute to shake herself out of the stupor he'd placed upon her. Gathering her skirts she walked into the study after him. His back was turned to her, but she knew he was aware the second she stepped in.

"Malcolm."

The Duke paused to throw back the contents of his glass and  rounded the desk to seat, looking to begin going through the pile of papers that awaited him. "I think dinner went well."

She permitted him something to seat then she spoke up. "Don't ignore me Malcolm."

"What are you talking about?" Malcolm, the fourteenth Duke of Sussex sat into his table in an attempt to fix his attention on the work ahead of him. He hated to sound unreasonable, truly he did, but there were times his brains could only resort to that effect as it's foremost response, and in his experience, it had thrown enough persons off guard and more often than not, he would have his way, but as he saw the hurtful look on his wife's face slowly mirroring into an obstinate one to match his tone, something he was aware aroused his own wilful spirit, he knew he couldn't avoid the conversation ahead.

"The Baron seems to have been spending an awful amount of time with here..."

"What does this have to do with anything, he's my childhood friend. A fact you are well aware of." This time around, he was pulling at some strings he knew she sort to have some control over when she looked away to exhaled heavily and turned to him.

"If you're going to be like this then, look at me and tell me that you are not trying to match Zachariah to the Baron's daughter?"

He looked, of course he did. Maybelle was a beautiful woman, but his foolish self looked on because she was alluringly beautiful woman when she was angry. Her composure was a steady as a tiger who has marked in on its prey, and her eyes, good heavens, she hadn't even raised her voice, but he could see the tempest in her eyes, they shine vividly amber, burning just at the edge of her resilience the fireplace only enhancing it's intensity, and he would be damned if he didn't already feel the heat.

His gaze wandered to her lips, they stood still, too still that he longed to kiss her. Damn it all! What again had she said to convince him send her away for two months?

"Malcolm." She said his name so suddenly, it succeeded in bringing him out of his stupor. He pinched the bridge of his with a groan, trying to remember what they had been discussing.

"May..."

"We don't know anything about her yet."

Ah! The blasted conversation. "Give her some credit."

"Surely you've heard the rumours." There was no need repeating the gossip that the DuCartia family had moved to the countryside to stifle a scandal about their daughter in London during her coming out about three years ago.

"Surely, I believe that you're better than this, judging a girl by the standards of the society."

There again was that hurtful face. He was a bastard, Malcolm decided, he truly was one.

"Why are you doing this?" She whispered after being silent for a while. "You know that I do not care what the society thinks of a person, that has never been my standard, you know I also don't care what you or the Baron does in private, I don't even care whether you think it necessary that I should know. Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what exactly May?" His bastard arse will rot in the dingiest part for hell, heck, he would burn slowly and he would make certain, very painfully he decided.

She squared her shoulders and fix him a gaze. "Why are you considering giving your son a wife like this?"

There it was. She hadn't been home more than three hours and somehow she'd been able to make sense of what he had been dealing secretly with the Baron.

He stole a gaze at her and sat into his seat, if he was to win this conversation he had to have all his wits available to convince his wife, but then again, he didn't need to convince her, a voice in his mind whispered, a voice he knew sounded so much like his father's.

"He is to be the future Duke of Sussex, the least he should have to worry about is getting a wife."

"And we are to take care of that without allowing him to choose?"

"Not everything in life is brought to you in options."

Leaving the mantle piece she approached him, and just when he stilled himself for another lecture, he let out a caged groan when her fingers instead found his shoulders and began to thread them.

She was goading him in he knew, but as she loosened his cravat to slip her fingers through his collar, his body trembled visibly. She alone had a hold on him that no one else has had the liberty of having. A fact he wondered if she was aware of.

"I worry that's he's too young. Let him live a little, have a foolish life with his friends, make some mistakes, maybe even find love as well. Malcolm..."

She leaned into him a bit, allowing her scent wharf close to his nostrils as her hair tickled his neck.

"May, he's a man, besides we were different." As petty as the thought would seem, perhaps it disturbed him that she wanted a love match just as theirs for their son as well. She was his and that was all there was ever to be about it. Zach was to find his own, though it seemed the boy had learned a lot from his father.

"We were different." She echoed.

"We learned to get along."

Maybelle chuckled a bit as her husband released a sigh of frustration when she nipped at his earlobe before dragging her from behind him to seat atop his lap and nestle his face by her neck, his hands massaging her body in the right places she ached from the long travel, until a sigh slipped through her.

No matter how lovely his ministrations felt, she knew he was trying to make her forget the situation, so pushing him aside, she insisted. "I'd like to think that we learned a lot more than that."

His reply was an intelligible grunt. So she cupped his face in her palm instead. "Then why are you not giving your son the chance of finding love?"

"Not every one can be as lucky as we were."

"We weren't always lucky."

"But we are now." He sat into his seat and spoke with that finality that had her draw back and then reach out again to line his face in her palm.

"Of course we are, but because we decided to give us a chance, he could learn that as well, he should be given the opportunity to learn."

He kissed her fingers, "He's a good lad."

She watched him kiss each of her tips, his other hand trailing to the confines of her corset. "And what of her, if she doesn't understand him enough, or she's just not the one for him."

When he stared her directly in the face, she knew his answer. He had made up his mind already.

"She'll learn."

"Malcolm."

"Enough Maybelle. Give it some rest and we'll talk about it another day." This time he tried not to focus on the silence, anything but her face and instead turned to tap the desk and taking that as her signal, she shifted from him.

"Please excuse me." Gathering her dress she lifted herself from his lap and walked out as steadily as her legs could carry her out of the study before she was over come by his presence. Barely managing the steps at a steady pace, she swept to her private chambers and closed the door behind her.

***********

First chapter down.

What do think ?
Love to hear your comments.

Authors love