Duchess of the Shire

To think ten days have passed since I last married quill, ink and parchment to declare the troubled thoughts in my head. I have been silent only because I have been enraptured by life, caught in its clasp and have not yet tried to fight against the inevitability. 

I am still ensnared, but while the body next to me breathes softly in their sleep, I am free to write and to give you a brief encounter of what has occurred.

The Duke of Albany and I have fought. And forgiven. And argued. And apologised. And screamed profanities to enrage the other, while letting the words melt away and making up most vehemently. It is exhausting spending time with him as I can never fathom what mood shall take him, yet the moments when I am in the presence of someone calm and predictable I long for the Duke's outbursts.

He has devised many reasons for us to spend more time together, and Jeeves has sanctioned to be a part of it no more. He claims he cannot watch over me for with every second I spend with the Duke I dangle deliriously close to a breach of fraternising, that Jeeves doesn't wish to be a party to. Of course I allowed Jeeves the freedom to disappear expertly when the time called, and the Duke has many excuses for us to spend time together.

It does continue to surprise me that the Duke knows my past almost better than I do; I had no idea my reputation had spanned an entire Continent (even the incidents in Iberia, and with the brunette) and for purely physical reasons I understand why the Duke seems infatuated with me. 

I don't know whether Jeeves knew what the Duke had planned or not, but it was a timely exit for his chaperoning, as the Duke presented me with a choice. The deviant games we play should not be made public, I know that much - for how else does a reputation travel so fast? But I cannot keep my pleasure to myself. It should be for the world to share.

We were lounging in his library, comparing ideas about the recklessness of Fanny Hill when the Duke mentioned his intrigue about Sapphic love. At first I rolled my eyes, for what man does not want more than he can handle, but as I tried to explain the love between two women, the Duke clicked his fingers and proudly presented me with a carnal delight of the female flesh. 



So beautiful she stood, fair hair tumbling to her waist, a simple cloak covering her desirable figure. I unknowingly licked my lips as I stared, not able to comprehend what it was the Duke was asking. He whispered in the woman's ear words that I could not hear, and she smiled, stepping forward and reaching for my hand, the cloak falling from her bare shoulders. 

Names were one of the few things not exchanged as the heat of the room made us forget any principles and we feasted on the electrifying lust between us. The Duke, ever the gentleman, left at some point, for I never felt his hands upon my body, and I have to admit I was rather preoccupied with the svelte figure wrapped around me to notice much more. She still lies in the bed next to me, and it has been more than three days since the Duke left me to my Sapphic tendencies. 

I'm sure a game is being played, and I'm sure I shall lose out in the end, but hedonism is living for the moment, and who am I to refuse the beauty of another woman? She awakes... I shall have to disappear again, for how long I do not know, nor care. I only wonder when the Duke shall return to claim what is his...



D. S.