Chapter 96 Clove Smoke and Unwanted Touches

Lucien was standing behind the stables, tendrils of smoke clouding his face from the clove cigarette between his lips.

​The afternoon was warm, the sun hiding behind the clouds as the warm wind blew the trees and leaves around.

​"Y-your grace, you called for me," the stable hand, Lawrence, walked over with a crouched back, too scared to look up and face the Duke.

​Lucien plucked his cigarette from his lips, his eyes accessing the man with scrutiny.

​"Lynda. What happened to her?" He asked, his green eyes intense and threatening.

​Lawrence suddenly fell to his knees, "Forgive me, your grace! I was drunk; I had not intended to throw the girl inside the well. But the moment I realized what I had done, I took her out. Please, spare my life, your grace, I have a family to feed!" He cried, groveling.

​"So did the girl you threw inside the well," Lucien spoke calmly, taking a drag from his cigarette.

​Lawrence shook as he lowered his head, "Please, your grace, I was drunk... I don’t know what came over me. I—I felt like someone asked me to do it, but I was too drunk to remember. I am not lying, please, forgive me..." he trailed off and cried more, begging in-between sobs.

​Lucien frowned, his eyes narrowing as he reasoned what Lawrence had said and wondered if Elian could actually be right.

​"You felt like someone made you do it?" Lucien asked slowly, glancing at the manor in a distance.

​"Y-yes, I—I heard a voice, your grace... it asked me... no, it threatened me; told me I would lose my pregnant wife and only son. I had to do it, your grace, but I couldn’t see it through. I’m a father; I know how hard it feels to lose a child. I swear, I did not do it on my own, please..." Lawrence put his hands together and begged, not bothering to wipe his tears and snot.

​Without a word, Lucien turned and walked away.

​Elian’s face and voice filled his mind as he took steady steps toward the manor. He was a good judge of people, and from what the man had said, he wasn’t lying.

​He just needed to confirm if Rowena was really the person who had threatened the man to hurt his family.

​He was about to enter the grand hall when he stopped and glanced toward the infirmary. He hadn’t gone to see Lynda, too scared to look at the girl.

​But Elian’s face appeared in his mind again, and he knew he needed to see the girl, for Elian.

​Slowly he walked to the infirmary and pushed in the door before he changed his mind.

​"Your grace," Rosalie immediately stood beside Lynda’s bed, bowing her head as he approached.

​"How is she?" He asked, noting Soren’s absence in the room.

​Rosalie glanced at her daughter and sighed, "She hasn’t opened her eyes, your grace. Dr. Soren says he’s done his best, and it’s left for my poor baby to stay with us or let go." She tried to be stable, but her voice still broke as she spoke, tears forming slowly in her eyes.

​Lucien’s jaw tightened as he stared at the unconscious girl. He could not understand why Elian loved her so much, but he did, and Lucien felt the need to make sure the girl survived... for Elian.

​"She will survive," Lucien said calmly.

​"Thank you, your grace. I believe so," she managed a smile, sniffling, "If only the person who did this to my poor child will be punished, but, alas, no one saw what truly happened to my daughter," she murmured.

​Lucien blinked away from her, guilt gnawing at his chest. He knew who did it, but he could not grant her wish to punish that person, not when he had things he needed to do before revealing his true plan.

​"Take care of Lynda. Tell me when she wakes up," he said gently and turned away.

​"Thank you, your grace," Rosalie said behind him.

​He paused at the door, gave her a curt nod, and then he left.

​He went straight to Rowena’s room, knocking on her door.

​"Lucien..." Rowena blinked in surprise, holding her red silky robe closer to her body.

​She had just stepped out of the washroom, her dark hair damp and long, her smooth skin flushed and shiny under the soft rays of sun streaming through her light curtains.

​Lucien stepped in, his eyes never lowering past her neck.

​"I can return when you’re fully dressed–"

​"No, no, don’t leave," she moved over to the door and shut it, locking it quietly.

​She faced him, her back pressed onto the door as she trailed her eyes hungrily over Lucien’s figure.

​"Have you come to check up on me... My neck still hurts..." she slightly tilted her head, seductively dragging her fingers down her neck.

​Elian’s fingerprints had started to fade, but one could still make out the faint mark, an evidence of a man who was ready to kill to protect what was dear to him.

​"I’m here to ask a few questions, Rowena," Lucien stated.

​Rowena blinked, her face slowly turning serious. Whenever Lucien used her name, it had to be serious.

​"Lucien..." she purred, leaning away from the door.

​"You barely visit my chamber, and now, you’re here, and all you want to do is talk?" she asked in a sultry tone, her hands moving to her robe’s string, slowly untying it as she approached Lucien in the center of the room.

​"I’m serious, Rowena. I need you to sit down, and you will answer my questions honestly—" he paused, eyes still locked on Rowena’s face, but he could see the robe slowly falling off her shoulders and pooling around her delicate ankles.

​"Touch me, Lucien..." Rowena whispered, stepping out of her robe and closing the distance between them.

​Lucien was still, allowing her to put her arms around his neck. Not because he wanted to be intimate with her; he wanted to check if his body would react to her.

​In the past, he used to believe he stayed away from women because he was disciplined and broken. But, with Elian, his body knew no discipline. He burned for that man, and he had slowly realized that he just might not like women the way he wished he liked them.

​It was a problem. His wife-to-be was right in front of him, naked, yet he felt nothing.

​"Lucien..." Rowena whispered against Lucien’s lips, pressing herself flush against him, "Please... I am your woman... touch me, for once, please," she shuddered with need, reaching for his hand.

​"Rowena... I need to talk to you about–"

​"I will answer you... after you’ve pleased me," she took his hand between her legs, parting her legs slowly, "Just touch me, no sex... I’ll answer you, honestly," she breathed against his neck.

​Lucien wanted to pull away, to warn her to stay off forever. He wanted to go to Elian and apologize for letting someone else this close to him, to clarify that his body would only know and want Elian.

​But those were stupid thoughts, bizarre.

​He was right where he needed to be, with whom he needed to be with.

​"You’ll answer me honestly?" he asked mechanically.

​Rowena nodded desperately. "Please, I promise. Touch me, my love..."

​Lucien’s gloved hand slid between her thighs without hesitation, fingers finding her already wet folds. He rubbed slow, firm circles over her swollen clit, the leather adding a cool, smooth friction that made Rowena gasp sharply and press harder into his touch.

​"Oh... Lucien..." she moaned, hips rolling against his hand. Her head fell back, lips parted in pleasure as she rocked into every stroke. "Yes... just like that... you feel so good."

​Lucien’s face remained impassive, green eyes distant. His mind was miles away — in the dungeon, with Elian.

​He pictured those pleading blue eyes looking up at him, those soft lips stretched around his cock just a few days earlier, the way Elian had swallowed every drop with wicked pride while Rowena’s voice had echoed up the stairs. The memory made his blood heat, but not for the woman currently trembling against him.

​Rowena whimpered, grinding shamelessly against his fingers. She tried to guide his hand lower, angling her hips so his finger would slip inside her, but Lucien stubbornly kept his touch focused on her clit, refusing to enter her no matter how she shifted and begged with her body.

​"Please... inside me..." she panted, reaching back to cup the front of his trousers, fingers seeking his cock.

​Lucien’s voice turned ice-cold. "Stop."

​Rowena froze at the command, but Lucien didn’t stop rubbing her clit. Instead, he quickened the pace, fingers moving faster, firmer, pressing down with precise pressure exactly where she needed it. Rowena cried out, thighs shaking as pleasure coiled tight inside her.

​"Lucien—ahh—yes!" Her nails dug into his shoulders as her orgasm crashed over her.

​She came hard against his gloved hand, body shuddering and hips jerking uncontrollably while slick sounds filled the room. Lucien continued stroking her through every wave until she slumped against him, breathing ragged and satisfied.

​He withdrew his hand immediately, stepping back. Rowena’s flushed, blissed-out face did nothing for him. His mind was still on Elian — the man he had left aching and hurt in the dungeon.

​Rowena reached for him again, smiling dreamily. "That was... incredible. Now let me take care of you—"

​"We’re done," Lucien said flatly, turning away before she could touch him. "You promised honest answers. Sit down."

​The contrast between Rowena’s satisfied glow and Lucien’s cold detachment hung heavy in the air. His thoughts remained locked on Elian, the only person who could truly set his blood on fire.

​Rowena sighed, dressing herself in her robe.

​"What is so important that you refuse my pleasure, Lucien?" she asked, lowering herself on the bed, her eyes still hungrily dragging over him.

​"Lawrence. Did you ask him to drown the girl?" he asked directly.

​"What?" Rowena blinked, frowning hard.

​Lucien spun around, facing Rowena with a serious look. "Yes, or no, Rowena. Did you threaten the man to do it?" His voice darkened, and so did his face.

​He needed to solve this, to prove to Elian that not all sides of him were darkened... yet.