The Duchess and the Highwaymen Pt. 03

"Happy, darling?" Willamina asks her dazzlingly handsome husband as they waltzed around the splendidly opulent ballroom.

"With you by my side how could I not be?" Jack answered as he moved through the steps of the dance with leonine grace.

Hand in hand they took in the scene around them. Dozens of immaculately dressed couples drinking their fine wine and gliding across their marble floor in a whirl of satin and lace. Directly above their heads the crystal shards of an enormous chandelier sparkled from the light of a hundred candles. Truly a celebration fit for the Baron Johann von Liebig and the Dowager Duchess of Hereford on the tenth anniversary of their wedding.

None of the noble guests that night had any notion of their venerable host's less-than-respectable origin as the infamous highwayman Black Jack Turner; a common criminal who had personally robbed half the gentry before becoming one of them. No. How could they have guessed? That would have required far more imagination than the ton was capable of.

Granted, as a couple they caused a small scandal by paying their servants a generous wage and treating them with decency. And the obvious happiness of their marriage ruffled more than a few feathers amongst the clucking highborn hens. Yet in spite of those minor sins their gatherings had long been a mainstay of the aristocratic social calendar.

It didn't hurt that they were undeniably the handsomest couple in Christendom. Now middle aged Willamina managed to retain all the fiery beauty of her youth. Her figure was as fine as ever and only a few silver streaks marked her vibrant red locks. Jack had held up equally well, with the same lean physique, chiseled jaw, and slick black hair that he had when he was a swaggering young bandit. Between Willamina's womanly allure and Jack's masculine magnetism they inexorably drew every eye in the room. Any room.

And as if all those advantages weren't enough, they had also been blessed with two wonderful children. John, the heir to Willamina's first husband's estate (or so the world believed) was away at Cambridge. He'd grown into quite the fine young man, intelligent, handsome and soon to inherit a grand title. Last but certainly not least was their eight-year-old red-headed daughter Benjamina. She had her mother's good looks and her father's charm. Though she ran a bit wild, the little minx had every servant below stairs wrapped around her little finger. Heaven help the eligible gentlemen of high society when she came of age.

"Do you ever miss it?" Willamina probed a bit deeper. She could tell by the guarded look on Jack's face that he knew what she meant though they rarely spoke of the old days. "There must be some things about it you long for. The freedom, the excitement..."

"The saddle sores." He joked, giving her one of his customary ready smiles but this time it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Make no mistake about it, running a dukedom was no easy feat. Despite all the apparent ease and luxury there were many tiresome and trivial responsibilities involved in maintaining such a grand estate. When they were first wed Willamina had been amazed by how effortlessly Jack had taken to them. For the bastard son of a horse thief and a tavern wench, he'd adapted to the role of lord of the manor as if he'd been born to it.

Yet recently something had changed. Though Jack still preformed his duties flawlessly they appeared to weigh more heavily on his usually carefree shoulders. He reminded Willamina of a tamed bird of prey, retaining all its majesty yet lacking the wild spark of vitality it once had. Willamina soon hoped to rectify that.

But first a particularly odious obligation was making his rotund way towards them at that very moment. Lord Blandley may have had a grand name but he smelled of stale tobacco and never talked of anything besides corn tariffs.

Willamina leaned in close to recapture Jack's attention, subtly pressing the soft swell of her bosom against him. The amount of cleavage the vantage allowed him was anything but subtle, as was the look of carnal interest that flashed across his face.

"I have a surprise for you, husband. Meet me in the garden as soon as you can." With the final notes of the song she dipped into a curtsey and floated off into the crush before Blandley could reach them.

She politely brushed off a flurry of greeting and felicitations with practiced grace. Just before slipping out the back door she sought out her husband from across the crowded ballroom. He was already surrounded by solicitous admirers yet his eyes quickly found hers. She thought to make some gesture that might spur him on but the unmistakable hunger in his eyes left her in no doubt.

He wasn't going to leave her waiting.

A few minutes later Willamina stood at the entrance to the hedge maze that lay on the edge of their sprawling garden. She restlessly surveyed the location for the tenth time. It was a darkly romantic spot. Far enough away from the main house that she could no longer hear the music or the chatter of guests. All around stone sculptures of exotic beasts and bare breasted goddesses dotted multicolored flowerbeds. The night itself was mild and nearly moonless. Ideal conditions for rogues and highwaymen to ply their trade. In other words, perfect for her own wicked purposes.

Suddenly a pair of hands clapped over her eyes, plunging her world into blackness. She was spun around on her heels. When the hands left her eyes she was staring into Jack's smiling face. He pressed a courteous kiss on her dainty knuckles. Then he reeled her in and slanted his mouth over hers for a real kiss. It was a hard kiss, demanding yet playful, like the man himself. From the first touch of his lips Willamina could already feel the low hum of arousal moving through her.

When Jack eventually released her she felt something heavy and cool around her neck. She looked down to find she was wearing a new necklace. And what a necklace! Countless tiny diamonds were clustered around a white gold chain and, in the center, dangled a large sapphire as clear and blue as her eyes.

"Happy anniversary, my duchess."

"Oh Jack, it's lovely." She beamed.

"Not half as lovely as you." He shrugged and casually arranged the lace of his cuff. "I took it off the Marquess of Blain once upon a time. So it's probably best you don't wear it to her next whist drive. But enough of that, what's this about my surprise..."

"Patience, darling. Do you recall the first present I ever gave you?" Willamina stalled. It was a rare occurrence to have the upper hand on her forceful husband and she wished to draw out the moment as long as possible.

He furrowed his brow. "Of course, a hunting rifle."

"You had it with you on our first hunt together. I'm sure you recall. We had been tracking an enormous stag all afternoon and judging by the baying of the dogs we were finally closing in. You and I and half the hunting party came over the hill guns raised to find, not a stag, but another kind of animal entirely. Namely, the Earl of Durnsbury making the beast with two backs with Susan the maid."

"And Peter the groomsman." Jack burst out laughing. "So more like the beast with three backs."

Willamina joined him in laughter. "I'll never forget the sight of him scrambling around trying to untangle his clothes from the tree branches as the hounds nipped at his flabby backside."

"Poor Lord Durnsbury he turned redder than his riding jacket. But aren't we beating around the bush. What does this have to do with my surprise?" He pressed, the clenching of his jaw revealing the impatience of a man not accustomed to waiting.

"You used to be such an avid hunter my dear." She toyed with him a bit longer, unable to resist the temptation. "You'd always come home with your blood up. But lately I've noticed that you've lost some your... appetite for the hunt."

"Appetites rarely increase with age. Perhaps that is just the way of things."

"Perhaps." Willamina gave him a coy smile. "Or perhaps you merely require more challenging quarry than clay pigeons and common pheasant."

"What prey did you have in mind on a night like this? Badgers, barn owls? Vampire bats might be quite thrilling."

"Me." She answered simply.

"Ah, now we come to the point." His sable eyes lit up with understanding followed quickly by naked lust. Even in the dark Willamina could see the gold flecks in his coffee colored irises dance with delight. "Challenging quarry indeed."

"Of course, you'll need a hunting party." Willamina signaled with a low whistle and a row of well-trained retainers emerged from the shadows. She had made sure to assemble only her most discreet servants, that they also happened to be the best looking was mostly a coincidence. Mostly.

There was Parker, Jack's personal valet. The man was polished, prim and professional with a dusky complexion and seductively full lips. A gentleman's gentleman of the highest order. Though he was a consummate professional Willamina occasionally caught him stealing appreciative glances in her direction. She couldn't help but return the favor considering how eye-catching he looked in his fine livery. The bright red jacket hugged his muscular torso in all the right places and his well-built lower half was practically poured into a pair of tight buckskin breeches.

Beside him, looking equally dapper, stood the two footmen Owen and Oliver. Like most footmen they were tall, lean and handsome and roughly half Willamina's age. Owen had the honor of being first footman since he was an inch taller than Oliver but in truth they were hard to tell apart. Cousins a few times removed, they both had gorgeous golden hair, piercing blue eyes and deeply clefted chins.

Willamina had heard all about them from Maggie her lady's maid who always knew the juiciest gossip. Evidently, they had a reputation for working hard and playing even harder. Maggie had told her that the two men liked to share everything from cufflinks to bedmates. Together they managed to roger their way through most of the kitchen staff.

All three servants had one vital thing in common, they were fiercely loyal to the family. Though they were given only a few vague details, they had jumped at the chance to help their lordship with his anniversary present.

Willamina turned to her husband. "Of course, there are terms for this little fox hunt. Afterall, what is a game without stakes? If I make it through the maze undetected I get a prize."

"What prize did my darling vixen have in mind?" Jack lifted one eyebrow in keen interest.

"Well there was that Arabian stallion that I had my eye on... And a new stable to put him in."

He let out a long, exaggerated whistle. "Expensive pheasant."

"Pheasant? I thought I was a vixen." She shoved him playfully.

"At least I didn't call you a grouse." He pulled her body flush against his and flashed a dazzling smile. Just like that all was forgiven. The man was impossible to stay mad at. He captured her chin in his hand and stared down at her hard. His voice lost its teasing edge. "What if one of the hunters outfoxes the fox, what shall their reward be?"

"In the unlikely event I've told the servants that the first man to catch me gets a two-pound raise. As well as a more rarefied prize." She dropped her voice to a seductive purr. For added emphasis she let her gown slip suggestively down her slim white shoulder.

Jack grunted in approval and tightened his grip around her waist. He plainly got the point, as she felt it rise between them, hard and hot against her stomach.

"What if I find you first?" He rasped. His timbre was getting rougher with every syllable.

"I'm sure the notorious Black Jack Turner knows just what to do with a captured quarry." With no small effort she managed to pry herself from his tight grasp. "So what do you say, do we have a bargain?"

He didn't hesitate to shake her outstretched hand. "I say tally-ho, let the hunt begin!"

For a moment Willamina saw a flicker of the old Jack, the one who lived every day like it was his last. "Kiss me." Jack demanded and his lips came crashing down on hers. A warm hand gripped the nape of her neck, holding her still as he ravished her mouth, his tongue seeking hers. When the kiss was over he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear, and growled, "now run, little nymph."

Willamina lifted her skirts and dashed off into the maze without a second thought. The mouth of the maze seemed to swallow her up. The dark, green hedges looming high over her head gave her the surreal feeling of being in another world. Faint starlight and sporadically placed torches were the only illumination she had to guide her way in this alien land. She tried to assure herself that darkness was surely an advantage to the prey. But the thought did little to comfort her. Instead it only made her think about the predators stalking her somewhere in that inky darkness.

In the back of her mind Willamina knew that it was all a harmless game, but her body apparently hadn't got the message. Her legs were being driven by a primal impulse that was telling her to run for her life. Her stomach was doing nervous summersaults. The eerie stillness of the maze put her even further on edge. It made the ragged sound of her breathing seem impossibly loud to her own ears.

Her body wasn't the only thing being affected by the strange surroundings. The deeper Willamina got into the labyrinth the further she felt from her normal life. Her imagination ran wild. Like some princess in a dark fairy story, she half expecting to run into a mythical beast around every corner. Instead she only found repeated dead-ends.

"I'm going to find you, little nymph." Jack's voice cut through the silence from somewhere in the shadows- somewhere close. "You can run but you can't hide. Not from me. Time and distance cannot separate us. The devil himself could not keep you from me."

The sound of footsteps from directly behind made Willamina nearly jump out of her skin. She didn't dare look back in case it really was the devil. Instead she bolted in the opposite direction. Her heart thumped away in time with the loud crunching of her heels against the gravel. Rounding the nearest bend, she was greeted by yet another wall of shrubbery. When she turned around to double back there was a movement in the dark. Her eyes caught a flash of color.

Jack. Even in silhouette Willamina would know the determined set of those wide shoulders anywhere. And he was standing between her and the only way out.

"I could track your scent anywhere." Jack's dark eyes captured hers for what felt like an eternity, the air between them crackling with tension. Then suddenly he was stalking towards her with dangerous resolve. Before she could blink his long legs had closed most of the distance between them. She felt something cool prickle her back and realized that she had staggered backwards into the hedge. Blast! There was nowhere left to go.

As always Jack looked maddeningly certain of himself. He closed the last few feet between them slowly, confidently, like a tiger so secure in his success that he may toy with his dinner. He didn't stop until the tips of his shoes disappeared beneath the hem of her gown.

Willamina stood stalk still as his hand went to her left breast where he gently thumbed her nipple. Even through layers of clothing the little bud immediately rose to a stiff peak. She bit back a gasp of pleasure. It took every ounce of self-control not to arch into his teasing touch.

"I hope you didn't have your heart set on that horse, my love." While he spoke he guided her mouth closer til their lips were practically touching.

She shivered at the rough tenor of his voice. Truthfully, she didn't mind the loss of the horse as much as she minded the smug expression her husband was currently wearing. It simply wouldn't do.

Jack closed his eyes a moment before their lips were to meet. Seeing her opportunity, Willamina brought her elbow to his gut with a dull thud. He groaned and toppled forward. As she went to slip past him he managed to reach out and get hold of her hand. But in a heartbeat, she had wriggled free of her glove and skittered away so that he was left holding nothing but a limp slip of fabric.

She could hear him growling just behind her before taking off after her. He pursued her round countless twists and turns, nipping at her heels the whole time. Eventually she managed to lose him around a bend but her legs were getting tired and she knew that she couldn't keep this pace much longer. She needed another strategy.

The next time she reached a fork in the road Willamina took off her remaining glove and threw it down one path before heading off in the other. She hoped the ruse would be enough to throw him off her trail. At least for a while. Just in case it didn't work she kept running at full pace until her lungs screamed for air. She ran until she realized she could no longer hear footfalls behind her. Only then did she slow to a brisk walk.

Rounding a sharp corner, Willamina suddenly emerged onto the central courtyard of the maze. A gurgling fountain stood in the middle, ringed with statues of naked Grecian maidens and white marble benches. Halfway there. Maybe she had a chance to win after all. In serious need of a rest, she plopped down on the bench to catch her breath and give her heart a chance to stop racing.

Despite the perilousness of her situation Willamina couldn't help but admire the secluded beauty of the spot. The bright stars above, the soft grass beneath her feet. It had the mystical quality that seemed particular to secret places far away from the rest of the world. She breathed in the heady perfume of night blooming jasmine and raw lust that hung heavy in the air, letting the gentle breeze calm her rattled nerves.

However, her admiration of nature was cut short by a rustling sound from a nearby hedge. Just like that her tenuous peace of mind evaporated and all her focus honed onto the spot behind the bushes where the noise seemed to originate. Cautiously she got up to investigate. With shaking hands, she reached to part the branches and take a peek. Had Jack caught up with her? Before she could move in to look she was suddenly seized from behind.

Willamina went to scream but her mouth was being covered by a large hand. The other hand reached around to dip into the plunging neckline of her gown. A rough palm cupped the heavy swell of her right breast and squeezed.

"I've been yearning to do that for as long as I can remember, your Grace." A voice whispered into her ears. Not her husband's voice.

She was abruptly wheeled around to find herself face to face with Parker, her husband's valet. At the sight of him her breath caught in her throat. Black eyes smoldering like embers, chest heaving, dark skin glinting like carved ebony in the semi-darkness. The hunt clearly agreed with him.

Sometimes Willamina would watch Parker as he took care to sharpen the baron's shaving razors or polish his shoes to a mirror shine. It made her wonder what it would be feel like to have those strong capable hands working her over with as much diligence. Willamina had a sneaking suspicion she was about to find out.

Parker had been given his orders to search and subdue and he was nothing if not a dutiful servant. He held her small frame hard against his chest, practically crushing her with his brute force. Though the sport was entirely of her own devising Willamina still felt the instinct to fight, pounding the broad planes of his chest with her balled fists. He responded by chuckling softly before pinning both her arms at her side.

"Now, now, calm yourself. You led us on a merry chase but the game is up." He spoke evenly, calmly.