I have barely left the bedchamber, wrapped in sheets, dripping beads of perspiration, uttering ceaseless moans of pleasure. I cannot repeat any further the misbehaviour that has taken place at my abode, but think no less of me, nor my actions, for the ruse is slowly slipping away.
The blonde Esquire has managed to tame the beast within; I no longer ache for the touch of anonymous lovers, but am more than content with only him. Though this relationship started as a farce, our intentions have twisted and turned and true emotions have crept in between the lies.
I do not know whether his unrelenting honesty as the catalyst of our secret tryst makes me trust him more, or whether I am falling for a man whose every intention was to make me love him, but I do know that I am falling for him.
Four months have passed and I have not looked at another man. At first it was a game, keeping me entertained as I played along with the blonde Esquire's needs. But now? I am anxious when I do not hear from him, we barely leave each other's sides and our families have mentioned words that cannot be unheard - betrothal.
Of course I question whether or not his Mother was in on the ruse from the off, and if it was me that has been played... But I have asked time and time again what it is he wants and I constantly get the same response.
'You. I want you.'
I have been wanted and lusted after by so many men... The English gentleman, the Scottish Earl, the White Knight and they too were adamant in their wanting of me, but I am not fool enough to believe they all loved me. In fact, I can happily admit that their intentions were purely physical, but I cannot deny that mine were all too similar.
But when the blonde Esquire looks at me, I feel his want, his ice blue eyes burn into mine with a desperation that could not be fake; no one could possibly emit a look so loving as he. Besides I have heard all the lies that can be said, I could recognise the empty promises without a word being uttered.
For example, the White Knight played the part of chivalrous second-place oh so well when I first began the blonde Esquire's ruse, but a few months down the line? It seems he was more interested in having me to himself and has long since lost contact entirely. A little bit shocked I was, but the Duke's sister has comforted me in saying he has cut ties with all of his ex-lovers in a similar vein so I ought to think nothing of it. She is right, of course, but my pride hurts, for one always wants to think of themselves as the main attraction, and not as a milieu of courtesans.
However I shall ignore the obvious cry for attention and focus on my happiness. It is true, I am so happy I could burst. I wish the rest of the world could feel my happiness... I don't know what I've done to deserve it, but I shall revel in the joy I feel, for who knows how long it shall last?
D. S.
Duchess of the Shire
This blog is a fictional account of a semi-Georgian Duchess. It was inspired by the love of all things 18th century and is purely the work of my imagination. All stories, themes, names and addresses http://duchessoftheshire.blogspot.com/ are fictional but also under the UK copyright laws. © .
I hope you enjoy everything that you read and it gives you some insight to a troubled, scandalous and rebellious Duchess.
D. S.
I hope you enjoy everything that you read and it gives you some insight to a troubled, scandalous and rebellious Duchess.
D. S.
Importances
affair
Africa
altercation
anniversary
Antipodes
apology
architecture
Armiger
Ball
Belle
birthday
blonde Esquire
Bohemia
Brewer
Brighthelmstone
building
captain
Christmas
church
convent
Court Jester
coxswain
Dearne Valley
decisions
disguise
Duchess of Tuthershire
Duke
Duke of Albany
Duke's Sister
Earl of Steel City
family
Fanny Hill
Far East
flowers
Foreign Minister
Gameskeeper
gentleman
goodbye
Grande Tour
Harlequin
Head Architect
him
Ireland
letter
love
Luthien
marriage
Masquerade Ball
musician
New World
New Year
New Years
Officer
painting
poem
poetry
priest
Prussian knight
reputation
resolutions
Rome
rowing
Rowing Ball
sapphic
Scottish Earl
Shire
simple gentleman
Spring
Summer
The Brunette
the Continent
the Nun
the shire
the White Knight
traditions
travel
travelling
Valentine's Day
winter
writing
Wow! That's so intense!
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