Page 28 of Claimed By the Duke of Ice

“Please,” she panted, wiggling her hips. “Please don’t stop.”

Nathaniel groaned as he leaned over her, using his hips to push them both further onto the bed so that he covered her body with his. He wanted more, so much more, and his brain was finally quiet.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he groaned, moving his hips in a rhythmic fashion as they started to make love. “You have no idea how much I have craved this. Craved you. Oh, God, finally.”

“You need to wake up now, Your Grace,” Grace said, her voice suddenly much deeper.

Nathaniel paused, looking down at her in confusion as a man’s voice once more passed through Grace’s lips.

“Your Grace, you must awaken. You have an appointment within the hour.”

Nathaniel’s body jerked violently as he opened eyes, and the vision of Grace beneath him faded.

“What?” he croaked, rubbing his eyes against the harsh light of day.

“Apologies, Your Grace,” his valet, Wilson, stated, “but you have slept several hours past your normal rising, and I feared you would not wake on your own.”

Nathaniel sat up as the rest of his dream faded, his head pounding. It had been three days since Grace had dined with him in his office which meant it had been three days since he’d seen her. The morning after he’d pushed her away, he’d gone to her chambers to apologize, only to find her gone and on a ride with her handmaid. He’d tried to speak with her several times throughout the day, but in each moment, he found her unable to be reached as if she were purposely trying to avoid him.

By the second day, his suspicions were confirmed when he saw her in the library with Mrs. Snievely. He’d walked in, asking for a moment of her time, and without so much as a look at him, she replied that there were matters of propriety to attend to and quickly left the room through the other door.

On the third day, he’d thought he’d outsmart her by being ready for her at her chamber door first thing in the morning. He had waited hours for her, only to find out that she and her maid had left long ago to go into town. Something about a hard but triumphant birth for a townswoman that Grace had decided to bestow gifts upon. No matter what he tried, she was always just out of his reach.

Sleep had been a stranger to him since the incident, but after yesterday’s failings, he had decided to take matters into his own hands and had drunk whiskey until he passed out. It had done the trick of lulling him to sleep, but it had also plagued him with vivid, erotic dreams that had seemed to play on a loop all night long.

“I’m awake,” he announced gruffly, pulling his covers over his lap. “I shall ready myself, Wilson. Please, go order my breakfast and have it delivered to my office. I shall be there shortly.”

Wilson nodded obediently as he took a step back. He had been Nathaniel’s valet for nearly a decade now, and he knew his master’s aversions. What Wilson wasn’t used to was the lack of structure around the man’s schedule. Nathaniel was normally as on time as the rooster itself, and staying in bed all morning was not at all like him. Nor was his lack of hygiene.

“Might I make a suggestion, Your Grace,” Wilson offered, trying to be as polite as possible.

“What?” Nathaniel bit out, glaring at his valet as he came around from his dressing curtain.

Wilson immediately regretted his words and chose not to mention the rather pungent odor expelling from his master’s pores.

“Nothing, Your Grace,” Wilson replied with a stiff bow. “I shall ready your office immediately.

Without another word, he left Nathaniel to finish getting ready, and the Duke glared after him as he shut the door. He was in no mood to deal with anyone, really. That was sure. Once alone again, Nathaniel sat wearily on his bed, trying to collect himself. Though he had finally gotten some sleep, he still felt drained and all the more on edge.

Taking a steadying breath, he picked himself up and reached for his clothes. A stench wafted into his nostrils as he raised his arms, and he almost gagged. Dropping his shirt and pants onto his bed, he went to his washing bowl and mirror and began to scrub. As he washed the stench of whiskey away, he looked in the mirror in horror. His beard had grown wild in the absence of his shaving, and he looked more beast than man.

Not having time to deal with it, though, he dressed quickly after washing and headed down the stairs toward his office. There, he found his breakfast waiting for him, and he’d barely finished before his butler announced the arrival of his appointment with Ninter’s Steward. Within minutes, his day commenced, and he put himself to the task of managing the issues at hand.

He asked the right questions, signed the proper documents, and gave the proper instructions. But throughout the whole thing, he felt as if someone else had taken over his body and was following through the motions while he sat inside, his mind more on Grace than anything else. The longer he was away from her, the more mad he seemed to be driven.

“Is all well with you today, Your Grace?” the steward asked as their meeting wrapped up.

Nathaniel gave the man an agitated look, but he nodded.

“Perfectly. Is there anything else, Mr. Copen?”

The steward looked at him as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he only shook his head.

“Nay, Your Grace. This should do it.”

Just like Wilson, Mr. Copen bowed stiffly without another word and left the room. Nathaniel was growing, agitated by the question of his wellness. Though Wilson hadn’t asked, Nathaniel knew that was what his valet had been thinking. Once alone again, Nathaniel walked over to the small hanging mirror and took a look at himself. Once he saw his reflection, he understood why everyone was so curious.

Even though he’d attempted to comb his hair and dress in fashion, he looked simply awful. There was a thick stubble growing on his cheeks and jaw, and his hair had somehow lost its life and hung in stringy strands over his eyes. If that weren’t enough, he realized he’d misbuttoned his shirt, incorrectly tied his cravat, and the jacket he’d been wearing had a large stain on it. He didn’t look like a duke at all but instead a crazed vagabond masquerading as someone of importance.

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