My Captive Duchess (The Reeves of Reeves Hall #1)

Chapter 20

Broek

I am already sitting at the head of the table when Jane enters the dining room. Quickly, I get to my feet and pull out the chair for her beside me. As I do, I scrutinise her pinkening cheeks. There can be no doubting what my little duchess is thinking about. Earlier in the washroom, I could have retrieved a towel and covered my nakedness, but I did not wish to, not when I caught the look of desire on her face. Instead I let her look and look her fill, though I could not stop the thickening of my cock.

Eyes cast down, Jane concentrates on her food, while I watch her silently, letting the sound of Liora and Simor’s friendly bickering fill the quiet around us. By the time the second course is served, a side of poached salmon in a lightly creamed sauce with an array of steamed greens, I see her make a conscious decision to get over her embarrassment. My duchess shall not spend her meal, meek as a mouse, head bowed in shame. She looks up defiantly at me and says, with calm courtesy, “Your trip prospered, I hope.”

In answer, I hark back to the other matter. “You do know, Jane, that there is a small indicator light on the door to inform you if the washroom is occupied.”

“As a matter of fact, I did not know,” she mutters. “I shall be sure to look for it. And so, to your trip. Was it a success?”

“It achieved its objectives,” I shrug.

“And what were these?”

At first, I do not respond, considering whether I should allow her to pry into my affairs. There is no harm in it, I conclude, seeing as she is not going anywhere nor about to speak to any outsiders. There is also a strange urge within me to be frank with her. I am not in the habit of sharing details of my life with other people, but in much the same way as I have bared my body to Jane, I feel a compulsion to tell her something of myself.

In a gruff voice, I say, “I had business to attend to. A ship of ours has returned from its voyage to India with supplies of tea and calico. Though I have family retainers working at the docks for me, I like to be there when one of our ships arrives, to inspect the goods and ensure they are properly stored in our warehouse. Then of course, there is the business of negotiating the sale of these goods as well as to see to our other investments. I made a visit to the stock exchange to trade bonds and securities.” I give her a pointed look and add, “Unlike the landed gentry of this country, who may sit back in their great houses and collect rents from their tenants, we of the merchant class must work to earn our money.”

She responds tartly, “I hardly feel as if I belong to the landed gentry at all. My own father was a churchman, more in the business of saving souls than collecting rents—which might explain why he left me with very little in the way of material means when he departed this earth. And while it is true that my marriage to the late duke elevated me to that landed class for a time, my situation now cannot be said to be anything but that of an impoverished widow, dependent on funds invested in that very same stock exchange of which you made mention.”

“In any case,” she continues, “I see that you have done well out of it. I do not know with what wealth you arrived in England, but it is clear that you have prospered and that much of it is due to your efforts.”

“Praise, Jane?” I mock.

“I tell it how I see it, that is all.”

“Then you see it very well,” interjects Horis. “I myself do not have a head for business as Broek does and could never manage our affairs half as successfully as he.”

“Your talents, which are many, lie elsewhere,” I reply with a snarl. “Do not belittle the importance of what you do here, Horis.”

Jane watches this exchange with lively intelligence. I decide it is time to change the topic of conversation. Quietly I say, “I was glad to hear of Chloe’s recovery.”

Her eyes glitter with emotion as she replies, “I was never so glad as when she woke and spoke her first words to me. For this I must thank the good Lord, but also Horis. I am truly grateful.” At the other end of the table, Horis nods his head shyly in acknowledgement. I gaze at him with gratitude in my heart too. If it had not been for his quick response, I do not think little Chloe would be alive with us today.

Then, I cannot help needling Jane. “I suppose now that Chloe is well,” I remark, “you will put all your efforts into finding a way to escape Reeves Hall. Do not waste your time, Duchess, for your efforts will be fruitless.”

She flashes me an angry glance. “What else is there to do with my time than to divine ways to end my captivity? It is not as if I have anything better to do.”

“Suit yourself,” I grunt, “but do not say I did not warn you. There is no possibility of leaving here without my consent, which I shall not give. Resign yourself to staying at Reeves Hall, Duchess. In terms of comfort, it is a far cry above Penhale Manor or even the rustic cottage you intended to live in. Some would consider themselves most fortunate to have found themselves in this situation.”

“And yet,” she says coldly, “the most precious of commodities—trust—is missing in this supposedly enviable situation. I am not trusted even to attend church service on a Sunday, for which I shall not count myself as fortunate.”

I raise a brow in enquiry. “You wish to go to church?” The thought had not crossed my mind, I must admit.

“Evidently!”

“I would consider taking you there,” I say, pondering the matter, “but for one thing. Everyone in the village believes you gone. We cannot have them see that you are still here.”

She grasps at this fact. “What harm can there be in that? After all, Mr Oakley believes me to be residing at Penhale Manor. My appearance at church will only confirm the truth of this.”

I cross my arms to my chest and scowl at her eagerness to be gone from Reeves Hall, which I am finding highly annoying. “Mr Oakley may believe what he likes, for he is far away,” I growl. “However, the residents of Penhale will soon know that you are not in residence at Penhale Manor and conclude the truth—that you are here. Do consider, Duchess, what this will mean for your reputation as a woman of virtue to be seen living, unmarried, in my household.”

“Well that’s just it!” exclaims Liora, excitement lighting her face. “Broek, you must marry the duchess. It will solve so many of the evils of this situation.”

“Marriage?” Jane cries in horror.

I study her sardonically while Liora continues to expound her idea. “Well of course! Why did we not think of this sooner? Just think, if you are married, then nobody will question your living at Reeves Hall and you shall be able to attend church, though goodness knows why you would wish to.” She turns to me. “And marriage to a duchess will increase your respectability, Broek. Nobody would ever dare gossip openly about us or about witchcraft when you are allied to a titled lady of the realm. Besides which, it will be in the duchess’s own interests to avoid gossip once she is married to you, so she will hardly want to tell people about the way we live here.”

“I think that is an excellent idea,” pronounces Horis.

“One of your better suggestions, Liora, definitely,” agrees Simor.

I’ll allow, the idea is not without its merits. I am in fact warming to it rapidly, but Jane, it seems, is not of the same mind.

She splutters, “Well pardon me if I disagree,” and rises to her feet while I throw her a mocking gaze to mask my dismay at her lack of enthusiasm. “If you will excuse me,” she says, “I shall go see to my daughter.” And with great dignity, she makes her exit from the room.