Discarded Duchess Additional entry.

[Woodyer]

Okay, I have taken another snippet from the Duke and Duchess of Hartford's story for posting. I tried to work on paragraphs, though it doesn't seem to want to copy over correctly... Sorry, I hope it's not a difficult read.
I'm new to this and just can't seem to shake the desire to write, so any input would be greatly appreciated, especially if it stinks! Thank you!


She was in the midst of the most liberating experience, it was almost reminiscent of a wonderful dream. One where she was floating upon a cloud looking down into the bluest sky she’d ever seen. It was glorious, she felt like an angel with wings, twirling down to earth from the very heavens above. Her arms were reaching high above her in rejoice, feeling the gentle breeze swirling around her. Her cheeks were pink with exhilaration and her brown eyes twinkled with jubilation.

That is... Until the devil himself, brought her world crashing down around her ears. For it was his voice that had ruined her angelic flight of fancy and by the looks of him, his pointed tail was in a major snit.
Oh dear… Her wings were about to be clipped, for she couldn’t envision this ending well, she thought as his words registered.

“Just what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Was he speaking to her, Gillie wondered still in somewhat of a fog, or her companion? Regretfully, she knew she’d been warned about the pitfalls of imbibing too much champagne. It would seem, this may be one of those times…

His voice had ripped out of him in such a fury, it was a wonder that fire and brimstone hadn’t demolished the very floor upon which they stood. She couldn’t help but glance down from her perch just to be sure. Nope, still intact .
That was when Gillie realized that poor Evers (Lord Eversly, second earl of Eversly, yet his friends-herself among them-fondly called him Evers) was still holding her aloft, as they’d been stopped in mid twirl. It was in fact, his gorgeous sky blue eyes that she’d been gazing into just a few moments before and now they looked panic striken. His mouth, hanging open in slack jawed amazement didn’t help matters either.

She sighed, heartily irritated, of course he’d be frozen to the spot like a glacier. One look from those cold gray eyes, boring into anyone would, she was sure regardless of standing, have the same effect. The unfortunate sod that was Evers, however, had the misfortune to be holding the devil-glacier’s wife (she giggled to herself, that was an apt description of him, even if it was an oxymoron!) high above the ballroom dance floor, with his face mere inches from her bossom and his hands clamped firmly around her derierre… Everyone in the ballroom was shocked at the sight (no, not of her making a spectacle of herself, they were used to her antics!) it was rather the re-appearance , of the famously inconspicuous Duke of Hartford, or “Hartless” as his friends liked to call him. Did the devil actually have friends Gillie wondered fleetingly? She glanced at him then, from the abject fury emminating off of him and the unapproachable rigidness of his stance-not to mention the fact that everyone within a foot of him, had taken a self protective step backward-she’d deduced that no, aparantly they did not.

Clearly, he was an impatient sort as well for this whole episode could only have taken seconds-having felt painfully like hours to her-when his voice turned quiet and menacing.

“I suggest you remove your hands from my wife’s arse, before I rip them from your torso myself.”

A collective gasp was heard reverberating through the assembly, at his vulgarity. Devlin could have cared less, as his eyes narrowed further.

“Trust me, when I say that it will be most excruciating for you.”
Ah, definitely he was speaking to Eversley, Gillie’s alcohol befuddled mind surmised.

The Duke of Hartford kept his gaze firmly locked on his adversary during the entire confrontation. When to his incredulity, he had heard what one could only presume to be an indelicate snort. Tearing his gaze reluctantly from the Earl of Eversley, Devlin looked up, into his Duchesses face and knew without a doubt that it had been directed solely at him. This insult was preceded by a rather tiresome roll of her eyes, again directed at him. Then he watched in added amazement, as she bestowed a smile worthy of any angel, upon Eversly. Then swatted him playfully upon the shoulder so he would surrender his iron clad hold upon her.
She wouldn’t want to fall any farther from grace than she already had, Devlin thought sardonically. This observation only served to make the tick in his jaw even more pronounced; he had to cross his arms in front of his chest to hide the trembling fury of his hands. All the while watching her, waiting.

Adjusting the bodice of her gorgeous amber silk gown, Gillie turned to him and said, in what could only be construed as extreme bordem .

“What exactly are you doing here?”

She tried to act as indifferently as possible, but he knew better, he’d detected the tiny hint of wariness she tried so valiantly to hide. His presence had shaken her. Good, he thought loutishly, let her squirm a bit. Looking up towards the heavens, for what one could only assume was infinate patience, he then said;

“It should be obvious” he glared at her yet again, “ I’m saving you from making a spectacle of yourself.”

Unmistakable anger flashed behind her lowered lashes, as she snatched a flute of champagne from a passing servant and nonchalantly observed the crowded room. Trying all the while not to notice the attention, that was so visibly upon the two of them. Now that she thought about it, who could blame them for gawking… This had to be the first time that society had seen the Duke and Duchess of Hartford together, on the same continent even, since their wedding nearly five years before.

Gilian downed her drink in one swallow, which gave her a false bravado,
“Don’t be so uptight” Gillie turned and looked directly at him, “I merely enjoy a dalli-dance or two. You’re the one with the reputation, Your Grace”.

She’d ended her statement innocently enough, as she proceeded to walk away from him. Yet he’d caught her inference as was intended and his fury soared, again. Take it easy old man, Devlin told himself trying in vain to calm down, the little spitfire’s just baiting you.
He caught up with her swiftly enough and grabbed her elbow, promptly redirecting her. Stormy gray eyes met and clashed with dark liquid brown ones.

“Is this truly where you wish this particular discussion to take place?” he inquired. To which she raised an eyebrow, mocking him silently. He thought perhaps she would not answer him, until…

“My wishes” she stressed, with a glint of real anger “ have gone unheaded thus far! Don’t pretend to be concerned for my thoughts or nocturnal activities at this point in time.” She jabbed her finger into his shoulder to emphasize her point. “I can assure you, that ship sailed five years ago!”

He was stunned by her blatant defiance, she’d been rude when they’d sparred before, but up until this moment he hadn’t realized the very real resentment she must harbor towards him. He’d under estimated her, a mistake he would not make again.
It was while he was silently contemplating this, that she thought to take the opportunity to try and break free from his grasp. Yet, it was she who was taken by surprise, as he twirled her into a waltz already in progress on a very deserted dance floor.
His gracefulness as well as his agility were astonishing, he managed to maneuver them right out the french doors onto the empty balcony beyond, without missing a step.
It was then that the full force of his temper was released.

One quick glance at his face had her regretting that she’d goaded him (maybe) a tad too far. This was indeed confirmed as Gillian watched him nod, to seemingly no one in particular, when the doors promptly shut effectively locking out any would be rescuers. She felt a moment of panic flair and was prepared to take flight, but was to late. By then he’d grabbed hold of her arm, and all but dragged her to a hidden door, of which was located around the side of the manor house. Devlin never broke stride, nor did he slow his pace to one that would suit hers. Gillie also couldn’t help but notice that he never once looked back at her, it was almost as if she weren’t there at all. That is, if one could overlook the band of steel wrapped around their upper arm.

Of course Devlin was more than aware of her. Hell, for as angry as he was at her, he was ashamed to admit even to himself at least, that he was thusly ten times more aroused by her! He shook his head mentally, as if by doing such he could ward off his lustful thoughts. He continued to escort her into a hidden stairwell, which led up to his private quarters. It was then that he glanced down at her, and realized just how tiny she really was and how tight his fist must be on her arm. For the first time, in a very long time, his conscience had returned and he was overcome with shame. He should be able to control his temper, she just seemed to have a gift for bringing out the devil within him.
When they entered, Devlin slammed the door shut with his booted heal never taking his eyes from her. It was then that he flung her away from him, as if he couldn’t stand being near her and paced the confines of his chamber.
She watched as he walked, captivated by the thickness of his arms, which was apparent even through the sleeves of his jacket. She also couldn’t help but notice the way his trousers clung to the sinew of his thighs and calves. He was well muscled she noted, Gillie wondered if he’d done much riding during his travels, on a horse that is. She caught herself before the resentment brought forth another indelicate snort, everyone knew he entertained himself at no expense, especially hers.
Suddenly he turned direction, all the while muttering to himself, about needing a drink as he walked towards his private bar.

While rubbing her arm where his grip had been, Gillie watched warily as he prepared a crystal glass filled to the brim with whiskey and downed it just as quickly as he’d poured it.
She then looked around. She’d never claimed these quarters for her own, preferring instead to settle on the other side of the family wing. Even though Gillie had seen them countless times before, she still couldn’t help being overwhelmed by the sheer size of his rooms. Taking in the regal royal blue and cream stripped walls, she regretted now, that she hadn’t carried out her plot to wallpaper his room in pink cabbage roses with matching silk curtains. She bit her lip, remembering that at the time she just couldn’t bring herself to change anything that was an intimate part of him.
As massive as his rooms were, it staggered the mind that they’d seemingly shrunken in size, just by the physical size of their master within them. He all but filled the confines of the space provided.

Secretly, Gillie could admit that she’d spent hours in here, trying desperately and failing miserably to gain insight into the man she had married. She looked around stunned, here she was with the man himself and nothing, nothing had changed! He still didn’t want her and she still felt just as small and insignificant within his sphere, as she did while sitting (admittedly, with much self pity) atop his bed crying to herself, while he was worlds away enjoying himself.
Perhaps, upon reflection Gillian thought, she had been drinking a tad too much and acting a bit too reckless… Now however, she had to think of a way to get out of this safely and with as few additional bruises to her pride and person as possible.

_________________
L. Woodyer




"You have a two second rebound rule, then you're off doing the next pain in the ass thing". The Notebook-film edition

[DaniR]

The story looks really good so far! It was much easier to read than the first bit you put up, which let me enjoy it more because I could concentrate more on the story. I like how fiesty your heroine is, especially since the hero is so volatile. In many stories it seems that those sort of heroes tend to get gentle, soft-spoken, old-fashioned heroines (kind of like falling into old stereotypes of type A, he-men and "angle in the house" women). Gillian seems to have more fire to her and she can stand up to Devlin! I can't wait to read more!