The Duchess

'Oh, my.' She laughed again. 'Dearest Quinton, this is going to change everything,' she told him.

'I know,' he admitted, and kissed her again, his big hands beginning to wander over her body.

Allegra purred with open contentment. He loved her. She had never before believed in love, but suddenly his devotion was very important to her. 'It is most unfashionable for a husband and his wife to be in love,' she said, then murmured happily as his kisses covered her torso, to be followed by his warm bathing tongue. 'Ohh, Quinton, that is nice,' Allegra said softly. 'Ahhh, yes,' she agreed as he suckled upon her breasts until she thought they would burst from the sheer pleasure. When he began to lick her ear she imitated his action, whispering to him, 'Do you want to fuck me again, Quinton?'

'I am going to fuck you again, Allegra,' he replied as he pushed slowly into her, teasing her by withdrawing and entering again several times until she began to protest.

She wrapped herself about him, silently demanding his full attention and homage. 'I want to feel the soaring again!' she finally told him. 'Don't stop! Don't stop!' Her nails dug into his shoulders, and then raked down his back sharply.

The light pain honed his appetite for her. He drove deeply into the hot marsh of her sex making her whimper. The body beneath his strained and writhed as he forced her fiercely to passion's peak. His own desire for her was enormous. 'You are mine, Allegra. You are mine!' he groaned, unable to withhold his own passions any longer.

'Oh! Oh! Ohhhh!' she cried in return. What was happening to her? It had been wonderful before, but this time she didn't think she was going to survive their shared lust. She was dying. Ohh, God, she was dying! And it was incredible!

When Allegra came to herself again it was within her husband's arms. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, and she could hear his heart thumping beneath her ear. His hand was gently stroking her dark hair which had come undone from its proper nighttime plait.

'You are revived,' he said softly.

'Am I still alive?' she wondered aloud.

He laughed. 'You have an incredible capacity for passion, my darling young wife,' he told her, and she felt him kiss the top of her head. 'You leave me breathless, Allegra.'

She was silent for several minutes, and then she said, 'Will you leave me tonight, Quinton?'

'No, my dear,' he answered her. 'It is unlikely I shall ever leave your bed again, no matter the gossip involved.'

She smiled then closed her eyes, feeling more at peace with herself and with her life than she had ever felt before.

Quinton Hunter sensed his wife relax, but he was not yet ready to sleep. He had no idea what had made him admit his love for Allegra, but at least she hadn't been repulsed by her new knowledge. She had even said she harbored some sort of feeling for him, but she had not said she loved him. That would surely come in time, he decided. For the first time in his life he understood his father's drinking himself to death after his mother's death. To be without the one you love was surely a hell on earth.

Allegra awoke early. Quinton still lay by her side, curled onto his side, sleeping peacefully. She studied him closely for the first time. He was handsome, but it was not his beauty of either face or form that attracted her. Looking into his face she saw something else. She saw strength and honesty. But I don't believe in love, she thought once more. You don't? the little voice in her head mocked. Then why do you care that his demeanor is one of strength and honesty?

Quinton Hunter opened his eyes, and looked into Allegra's beautiful face. Her gaze was suddenly startled by what she saw.

'You do love me,' she said wonderingly. 'I can tell. It is the look in your eyes, Quinton. Oh dear! Oh dear!' God almighty! She sounded like a perfect ninny, but his words last night while surprising were nothing compared to the emotion she saw now in those silvery depths.

'You think too much, my darling,' he told her. 'Get up, madame. We have a houseful of guests arriving today, and a future King of England in the Lake bedchamber even as we speak.'

Allegra couldn't help it. She giggled. 'I never expected to be so rudely tossed into my duchess-dom this quickly, my lord,' she told him. 'We should have been gone when Prinny and young Mister Brummell arrived. They say we will not go to Italy next spring as some French general is harrying the Venetians.'

'I will make it up to you when the French stop harrying the Venetians,' he promised her. 'Besides, I am longing to make love to you in a gondola, my darling Allegra. Mad, passionate love beneath the moon as we glide by the Piazza San Marco on a warm summer's night.'

'Sir, I think you quite mad,' Allegra told him, arising. 'Ohh!' She whirled about, rubbing her bottom which he had just lovingly smacked.

'I could not resist,' he told her with a grin.

She laughed, then told him, 'Go back to your own bedchamber now, my lord. I wish to dress, and so must you. His Highness will want to hunt, I have not a doubt.'

The duke had no sooner finished his morning ablutions and descended the stairs to his dining room when he heard Prinny and his traveling companion coming down behind him. A swift glance about the room told him that breakfast was more than ready.

'Good morning, my lord,' Crofts said calmly.

The Duke of Sedgwick nodded his greeting, delighted and amazed at the same time that his household was running so smoothly. Allegra was truly a wonder, he thought to himself.

'Good morning, Your Highness,' Crofts said pointedly.

The duke turned quickly, and welcomed his guests. The footmen seated the gentlemen and began bringing about the silver dishes and covered platters that held the breakfast. The prince almost purred as he helped himself to a rare and juicy beefsteak, and allowed the footman to ladle a sauce of cream, braised onions, and peppercorns over it. He murmured his approval of the eggs poached in heavy cream and Marsala wine and dusted with nutmeg. He hummed with delight as the various platters were presented to him. Then he ate, and he ate, and he ate, washing down his meal with a goblet of wine that never seemed to empty itself. His companions ate more sparingly.

When he had finished he leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine. 'We are in the mood to hunt,' he announced.

'Of course, Your Highness,' the Duke of Sedgwick said, rising. 'Will you be hunting with us today, Brummell?'

'Brummell doesn't hunt,' Prinny chuckled. 'Such raucous activity would disturb the perfect cut of his neckcloth, eh, Brummell?'

'Indeed, Your Highness, it would,' Brummell answered without rancor. 'Not to mention getting mud all over my excellent boots. My man spends at least an hour a day on each of my boots. It would send him to Bedlam if I dirtied my boots before noon.'

'I have not asked after Princess Caroline's health, Your Highness,' the duke said politely as they left the dining room.

'Fat, breeding, and dirtier than ever,' Prinny said with a shudder. 'If she whelps me a son she will have done her duty, and I can be done with her. I only married the bitch to get an increase in my allowance. The renovations for Carleton House have beggared me.'

'It is to be hoped then that Your Highness will get his wish,' the Duke of