The Devil is The Duke

They rode out just before the dawn. All Emeera felt was the Duke’s grip around her as he charged his horse in the dark. She could barely see but it was clear to her the duke knew the route quite well. By sunrise they were in the manor. Emeera, asleep in her bed while the duke went riding again with a different horse. He had told his servants he needed to take the morning air before breakfast and rode out without his groom.

A week after the incident at the Alexander estate, the Duke called Emeera to his study and informed her his sister was arriving that day. They had anticipated her arrival but that announcement still stirred up some excitement in her. Finally, she was going to have real experience serving the lady of the manor. The duke kept telling her his sister was a lady in the manor but Emeera still thought of her as the lady of the estate.

She was a little apprehensive because she had met ladies like Lady Athelstan and her friends so she was anxious about the Duke’s sister and her quirks. At noon, Lady Blackhouse – for that was her husband’s name, arrived the manor with her two daughters. From the first meeting, Emeera knew Lady Blackhouse was not like any other lady she had met before. For one, the woman had a kind smile. “But don’t they always?” Her mind sang. It was true.

The first time she had met lady Athelstan, the woman had smiled like Emeera was the most fascinating creature she had ever met. They always smiled, even when making disparaging remarks. But soon she realized Lady Blackhouse was not like that. She was not the type who smiled when she did not feel it. Her expressions varied and were quite reflective of what she thought.

When she hugged the duke, she pinched him in an affectionate manner. “I have missed you, Albert,” she said. Her face looked sallow like she had been ill. That was all that showed the poor woman had lost her husband. After their baths and rest, the duke asked them for tea in the gardens. On Lady Blackhouse’s insistence, Emeera was also in attendance. “I will need someone to talk to who won’t fuss over me,” the lady had joked.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

During lunch, the two Blackhouse daughters: Vivian and Victoria seemed lost in their thoughts. Emeera observed the sad group who were all trying hard to seem normal. The duke spoke in a louder tone than usual, to mask his sadness. His sister blinked a lot to restrain tears. She probably had been too brave or too tired during the trip to actually weep. But now she was back in her childhood home with her brother and no society friends to look perfect for. She could finally let her guards down and allow herself the liberty to grieve her loss.

Emeera wondered if Vivian and Victoria knew they were to be settled in and married off as soon as possible according to their mama’s arrangements. The duke was not keen on marrying his nieces off at the drop of the hat but he had to respect his sister’s wishes. Now the ball was more important than ever. It was to be the girls’ introduction into society. Emeera wondered what it felt like. To be introduced to Lords and ladies and have to dance with their badly behaved sons. She smiled. Being an outsider, she had never been a participant in these things but she was going to observe this time.

After tea, the three Blackhouse women retired to their rooms while Emeera went down to Mrs. Fletcher to discuss the ball. Emeera was unhappy with the older woman for her role in the dispute she had with the Duke but she could forgive her since everything ended well. They did not speak about the issue but instead, talked about the ball. Mrs. Fletcher had already undertaken to do most of the work of contracting with suppliers for the entertainment and decorations. All Emeera had to do was sign some documents and approve funds.

Weeks went fast and finally, the ball was thrown. The week of the ball was significant as it was also the last week the Duke’s sister and her children were going to spend in the manor before their journey to the country. Emeera had tried to convince them to stay but the women said they preferred the country. Lady Blackhouse even whispered that she thought the duke needed privacy for his escapades. It was common knowledge that since his sister and nieces moved in, the Duke had spent every night alone in his bed. Emeera laughed when Lady Blackhouse said that. The woman loved talking to Emeera about everything and anything. They both disliked the ladies who lunch. Emeera knew why the other woman did but fortunately, they never had to talk about that.

The night before the ball, Emeera picked out a dress she wanted to wear. It was a simple blue dress that was not too bad for an event like that. She wanted to blend in – at least, not look like the maid – while doing her job. Everything was set for the ball. The hall, the music, the food and drinks. She lay in bed that night feeling accomplished but also anxious about the following night. As she lay, lost in thoughts, the glass door opened for the first time in weeks. It was the duke. Emeera quickly jumped out of her bed. “Good evening” she stammered. He smiled wryly.

“I brought you something,” he said. Emeera saw the large box for the first time. She opened it on her bed and a shimmering silver dress lay there.

“Oh my God!” She gasped. The duke smiled again.

“That’s what you’re wearing tomorrow. Thank you for everything you do for me,” he said. She quickly took out the dress. In a corner of the box lay a tinier package. She opened it and found a necklace, bracelet and earrings. They were easily her most expensive pieces of jewellery. “Oh my God” she muttered over and over. “You did not have to go to all these expenses,” she said.

“Of course I did not. I wanted to. May I help you put it on?” Emeera blushed crimson. She was unsure if her bedroom door was locked. She wondered if he expected her to strip in order for him to help her with the dress. She held on tight to the dress.

“Emm.. your grace?”

“I meant the jewellery, not the dress so save your show of modesty, Emeera,” he said. Before she could respond, he left the room.