Duchess & the Damned (A Victorian Erotic Romance)(Re-Write!)

Chapter One, Part One - The Suitor.

Hello! 

Thank you so much for coming to read The Duchess & The Damned. For all those who read the first version and are coming back to read the rewrite, thank you for tuning in again! It means the world to me that you are invested enough to come back for round two. There will be more scandals, more steamy scenes, and more of the characters we all love. For all of those who are reading for the first time, welcome! I hope you all enjoy the story! 

"Get up!" bellowed the instructor, demanding young Charles to stand from his bruised and battered position on the ground.

Groaning as he panted, Charles struggled to obey, having been beaten by three men under the command of the instructor. A brutal, but necessary training. If he was going to succeed in entering the Heart Estate, he must get up. No matter how many times he was to be knocked back down. Should this be the future, it could be the Duchess' life on the line. Even still, his body screamed in protest as he got back to his knees.

"Would you have her die? Would you be able to bear the grief, knowing you let her? I said get up!" he hollered.

Charles' eyes narrowed. Not while he still drew breath. The young Duchess would never know pain. And if she did, the one who introduced it to her would know it tenfold. Clenching his jaw, he ignored the crack of his bones as he fought to stand up, body shaky. Wobbling, he stumbled back onto his knees, a hiss slipping from his grit teeth.

"Get up, Charles!" The instructor demanded. "Charles!"

"Charles!" squealed the bubbly young Duchess.

Pulled back into the present, Charles blinked his memories away, realizing that he had stopped brushing the young miss' hair. The brush idly sat halfway through her long chestnut strands, which curled ever so slightly against the cushion of her seat. Immediately drawing the brush back and out of her hair, Charles shook his head as the Duchess turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"Sorry. Did I hurt you?" he asked, brows pinched as his hand delicately grazed the smoothed strands.

"That's the second time you've gone off in your own thoughts," she scolded with a pout. "Do you mean to have me arrive late to my meeting with Father?"

"Of course not," he sulked, his hand raising to return the brush to her hair. "Forgive me, Emilia."

"What were you thinking about? You do that, sometimes," Emilia wondered aloud as she returned her gaze to the large vanity mirror.

Charles chuckled, a smile tugging at his lips. Even through the most painful parts of that memory, it was still arguably one of his best. The day he had been accepted into the Heart Estate.

"I was thinking of the first day of this job."

"You mean as my guard?"

"Mm ..." Charles nodded with a soft smile. "Though it seems I've acquired a number of titles over the years."

"Have you?" Emilia pressed, brows raised curiously.

"Storyteller. Vanquisher of night terrors," he went on playfully, smile widening.

He had more than proven himself to the Grand-Duke that he was ready and able to take on the position despite his young age. His instructors had seen enough to vouch for his capabilities, thus securing the rest of his life alongside the woman who had won his heart.