Page 33 of Beneath the Beastly Duke's Mask
However, he still appeared asleep. Frowning, she took two small steps forward and paused, leaning closer to the bed.
“Fire!” he cried.
She jolted, her hand going to her chest. “Your Grace?”
Narrowing her eyes, she peered at his face, finding his eyes still closed. She sighed with relief, but it was short-lived when he gave another cry of anguish. He was dreaming about a fire—that much was certain.
“Wake up!” he whimpered. “Wake up! Fire! Fire! Please.”
Arabella's heart squeezed tight. She could feel his urgency and desperation as though they were her own. She needed to get Truman to wake him up before the nightmare caused him any more harm.
However, Arabella was nearly brought to her knees when he screamed, the sound guttural and full of affliction. She had only ever heard such a sound from people her father had treated, those who had been so injured that death had been a welcome reprieve for them.
“It burns!” the duke cried. “Please, it burns! No! No!”
"Your Grace,” she cried, tears springing to her eyes.
He thrashed in the bed as though he were trying to get away from something. It was probably the fire. Arabella should really hurry and get Truman, but she couldn't just leave the duke when he appeared to be in so much distress. She needed to do something to help him.
“Think, Arabella, think,” she whispered to herself.
Her mother had often sung to her as a child, especially after a nightmare or if something disappointing happened. One lullaby in particular stood out to her. She started singing, keeping her voice soft but loud enough for him to hear. He continued to thrash about, but he eventually stilled as though he finally heard her singing. Arabella took another step forward and stopped.
She was close enough to touch the bed, but not the duke. Perspiration had soaked his covers and drenched him in its salty sheen, his whimpers still heartbreakingly sad. He didn't deserve such a terrible condition. This was probably what the servants had meant when they said he had trouble sleeping. The nightmares likely kept him awake. They were tormenting him beyond reason, stealing his peace.
Arabella eventually stopped singing, feeling the moment appropriate to get the valet. She hadn't even turned when the duke opened his eyes and pinned his light green gaze on her. She gasped and stepped back, her hands lightly circling her neck.
“I'm—I'm sorry, Your Grace,” she said. “I didn't mean to—”
“Arabella.”
She gulped, terrified of what he might say for finding her in his room in the middle of the night. She needed to beg for his forgiveness and explain why she had thought it necessary to enter his room.
“Please do not leave,” he said, confusing her.
That was the last thing she expected him to say. “Your Grace?”
Perhaps she had merely heard wrong, but he repeated the words again. "Please do not leave me, Arabella,” he said. “Stay with me. I've been so lonely since the duke and duchess died.”
He couldn't be in his right mind saying these things to her. Perhaps he wasn't really awake.
“Should I get someone to help you, Your Grace?” she asked.
He smiled lazily, rolling to his side. His nightshirt fell off, revealing a smattering of dark chest hair and the biggest chest she had ever seen. He had to be pure muscle. She blushed, lowering her eyes.
“No,” he said. “I know you're merely a figment of my imagination. I used to see the duke and duchess, but now you've also entered my dreams. Perhaps you are here to comfort me.”
Arabella didn't know what to say to that. He didn't believe she was real! He obviously thought she was just a figment of his imagination, someone part of his dream world.
“Thank you,” he said, drawing her attention. “Thank you for helping me.”
The duke finally seemed at peace, his face serene and calm. His eyes eventually drifted closed, his body no longer moving restlessly. She gave him a minute or two before she left the room and tiptoed upstairs to her room.
“Arabella?” said Jane, her voice groggy. “Where were you?”
"I just went for a little walk," Arabella said. "I've been restless."
“Oh,” Jane replied, blinking her eyes sleepily. “Would you like me to stay awake with you?”
