THE Marquis's Mistress: Historical Fiction

CHAPTER 7

Natasha sat in the duke’s chamber, with nothing to occupy her mind, naturally her thoughts went to her earlier encounter with Benedict.  Just thinking about him pulling her into his arms gave her goose bumps.   What a wonderful, exhilarating feeling it was, having his lips on hers.  The brush of his warm lips caressing hers, his breath so hot, it had excited her to respond to him.  She had wanted to part her lips, but she had panicked.  How she wished they could have kissed properly, instead of just their lips touching.  She regretted pulling away.  Now that she had been in his arms, and had a taste of him, she yearned for Benedict’s kiss.

Natasha got up and went to the duke.  She patted him down with the towel.  There was just a film of sweat on his forehead.  His temperature was fine, she tucked the bedding over his chest. ‘Your grace,’ Natasha whispered, ‘please have some fruit juice,’ she propped him against his pillows. ‘What would you like for lunch your grace?  I will request the kitchen to prepare it for you,’ Natasha smiled.

‘He has trouble swallowing.  He is on a diet of soups now,’ a lady who had the same looks as Benedict smiled.  She had his eyes, his cheekbones, and off course those lips.  She would know those lips.  This must be Benedict’s mother.’

‘Your grace, I am sorry.  I was not aware.  My name is Natasha, your grace.  I have just taken over from my sister Crystal.’

The duchess smiled tenderly at Natasha. 

This has to be the nurse Benedict had in mind.  He is never wrong in his judgement of people.

‘That is quite all right dear.  The kitchen is fully aware of my husband’s dietary requirements.  Welcome to Crowcombe, my dear.  We are very happy that you are able to assist us.’

‘Thank you, your grace.  I am not a nurse by qualification, but I have had experience nursing my father and my brother, many a times,’ Natasha informed her. 

‘I am sure you will do just fine,’ the duchess’s eyes were tender.  ‘I will ask the kitchen to bring up the duke’s lunch.’

Natasha was pleased that the duke was able to finish every scrap off his bowl.  She praised him for his cooperation.  In the afternoon when  the sun fell over the room, she asked the duke if he wanted some sun.  He nodded.  Natasha swept the huge velvet curtains as far back as she could to allow the sun in.  She was sure she saw a smile on the duke’s face.  ‘Are you allergic to flowers your grace?’ Natasha whispered.

‘Not sure,’ he murmured.  ‘I guess if I sneeze like crazy that will be your answer.’

‘Would you mind if I put some flowers on your table, your grace?’

‘Go ahead,’ he nodded, and closed his eyes.

‘I will be right back,’ she squeezed his hand.  Natasha ran to the garden.  She prayed she would not be in trouble with the duchess, Benedict or his staff for taking the liberty, but the huge sun flowers were absolutely delightful.  She cut about six of them, found a can and took it to the duke’s chamber.

‘Look, your grace,’ Natasha whispered.  ‘Look what I have found in the garden,’ she smiled.

‘Beautiful,’ he smiled, ‘just like you dear one.’

‘Me beautiful?  No ---I am not.  Crystal is  beautiful.  I---I am not pretty at all.’

‘I agree father.’

Natasha swung around and saw Benedict standing at the door.  He looked around, observed the curtain apart welcoming the sun into the room.  How bright his father’s chamber suddenly became just with Natasha’s presence and off course the pretty sun flowers as well.