Wish Granted Ch 07

Her breakfast was served in her bedroom. It was a frugal but pleasing meal, cold leftover meats, buttered rolls, and a cup of coffee with a sinful amount of sugar. Danetta had her dining furniture moved to the balcony so she could enjoy the balmy weather. She wasn't fully dressed yet. All she had was her chemise, a pretty robe, and a pair of slippers.

Fortunately for her handmaidens, they were expected to serve a role that was both a servant and occasionally a companion. While most of the other servants were meant to eat breakfast only after the master and mistress had been fed, the handmaidens were expected to eat at the same time, and in the same room, so they could see to any of her needs immediately.

Danetta wanted to chat with them as a friend would, but she didn't know if that was proper. She knew that she didn't want to be too cold. She believed she was very fortunate to have personal servants waiting on her, always ready for anything she wanted. Danetta decided that the best thing to do would to always be civil, and to never give them an unreasonable task. A few acts of kindness wouldn't be bad either. She considered asking the cook to give them small servings of dessert with their future meals, if it wouldn't be any trouble. She might have to ask her husband first, though, because sugar could be very expensive.

When breakfast was finished, Danetta walked over to her wash basin and asked her handmaidens to join her. All three women wiped themselves clean. They didn't need to undress. All they needed to do was reach under their clothes to reach key locations. In her previous lifestyle, Danetta would have done this only once every few days, and only before bed. In this new, indulgent lifestyle, she knew she would be able to perform this action once before bedtime and once in the morning, every day.

Soon, she was in a light day dress. Her hair was casually tied back in a white ribbon, and not much else was done to her appearance. She thanked her handmaidens and asked them to join her on a walk in the gardens. They curtsied and followed her. On their way out, Danetta saw her husband walking towards them, and they politely paused and greeted him.

"Are the three of you going out?" he asked without much emotion.

Danetta replied, "Yes, Husband. I'd love a trip around the gardens."

"Would you let me join you?"

She nodded. "Of course. I'd happily follow you there." The women paused so that the Duke could take the lead. Danetta started walking when she had a lovely view of the man's calves. Memories of the astonishing pleasure from last night's activities were reenacting in her thoughts. Even if they were in private, she knew she didn't want to ask him why he'd seemingly abandoned her. He must have had a good reason.

Nevertheless, Danetta was emotionally wounded.

When they were in the garden, her husband slowed his pace and walked beside her while the handmaidens kept a short distance behind the couple. His cane was attached to a button on his waistcoat by a small loop.

He nodded his head at a tree. It was a very grand pomegranate tree. There was a ladder nearby for anyone who wished to pick the fruit. Danetta watched the Duke pull a pair of scissors from his coat's pocket. Many men kept scissors in their pockets because of an old wives' tale. It was often said that if a man didn't cut his hangnails right away then he'd soon become infertile.

He climbed up the ladder. A snap, and then he had a fruit. He stepped back down to the earth and used one of the blades of his scissors to slice out a portion of the pomegranate. Then he put the pomegranate into Danetta's hands. He gave one of the handmaidens the chunk he had cut away.

"Your fingers will be very damp, Dear Wife, but the flavor counterbalances the issue."

She picked out a seed, and then she thought of something very carnal. Her face warmed, but she ignored her feelings. "My husband has excellent tastes; I trust him." She popped the seed into her mouth. It really was pleasant. She chewed and swallowed. "It's lovely."

The group walked on as her husband cleaned and put away his scissors. "I've sent people to Lealna to make purchases for you."

"How kind of you." Danetta put a few seeds into her mouth and licked her fingers.

"You'll soon have two flutes, several canvases and painting materials, and a new sewing kit with cross-stitching samplers."

She smiled at him. "I must be favored by the gods to have such a thoughtful husband."

Duke Adurant leaned over slightly as he apparently looked at her. "I've been thinking about you, Madam, and your life. I'd hate for you to lose any opportunity to make new friends."

Her fingers hovered over her fruit. "Sir?"

"Perhaps I should write to my old friend, the Marchioness. She'd gladly help you find your place in the Social Season."

She grinned. "I haven't danced in a long time, but I'd love to enjoy the season."

"It's the same for me, Madam, but we have the Marchioness. She'll inform us of all the latest popular dances and anything else we've missed in the past few years." He straightened up. His bundled up head pointed to the pathway they walked on. "I imagine you won't receive many invitations ... thanks to your connection to me. Your life will be much slower than an average woman of your rank. The Marchioness is loyal, though. You may rely on her."

"Will you join me on any engagements?"

"Perhaps some of them, but I won't make any guarantees."

Danetta nodded. Her husband didn't seem to eat in public, and his appearance was strange. His shyness wouldn't interlock with the Social Season. He might change his mind, though.

***

The townhouse Duke Adurant owned in Henrisk was charming and cozy without suffering from lack of space. The building was nowhere near as narrow as her father's house. It was very wide and several stories high. It was made of red bricks and had cheerful looking sash windows. The front door had a sturdy canopy that provided a moment of shade. Rainbow roses decorated the small gardens in front. Inside, there was a basement for the servants to live in. The formal rooms were on the first and second floors. A coach house was in the back, along with a stable block and places for grooms and coachmen to rest.

Danetta settled into her new little city home and gazed longingly out an open window that faced the street. She loved the morning city air, even if it was a bit polluted. There was always a creeping sort of excitement during this time. People were slow as they walked around, but determination was on their faces. They all had their routines.

She was served a cup of hot tea and a slice of jam covered toast. As she waited for her tea to cool, she wondered if her husband was enjoying being in this house after so many years. Or ... maybe he didn't? Maybe he felt out of place here?

He hadn't touched her since ...

Well, he hadn't touched her at all, technically, not with his bare skin.

Danetta had waited and waited, but her husband hadn't made any visits to her bedroom since that evening when he left her in a state of tears. She'd wondered if she'd done something, anything, that could be considered incorrect, but she couldn't think of anything. She was feeling lonely and she thought she might ask him for some attention soon.

When she finished her snack, she got up and went to find her husband. He was examining an old but handsome cue sports table in a gaming room. Her dainty sigh alerted him, and he seemed to look up at her. "Oh, Wife. Are you fond of the house?"

"It's a fine house." She stepped up to him, prepared to ask him about future intimacies, but then she realized that they were to expect a guest soon. This wasn't the best time. Her lips pursed and she lowered her head.

"Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "No. Everything's been wonderful."

But she wanted a hug, at least.

She moved in closer to his hidden skin. She put her cheek on his shoulder, and she closed her eyes.

And to her delight and her relief, his arms went about her upper body, and she was being held against him. His breath moved his chest like a wave, soothing her mind. She decided to take a risk. She whispered to him, "I dream of your touch."

His arms seized up, his fingers twitched. She knew they twitched because she heard the leather fingers rubbing against each other. Then his muscles relaxed, and she heard a sigh.

"Husband?" She looked up at his passionless countenance.

His large hand came over the top of her head, and he petted her like a beloved dog. "You have dulcet words for your unworthy husband."

"You have poisonous words for yourself." Danetta rested her groomed fingers against his arm. His coat and shirt kept her from properly speculating the truth of his skin's texture. "All I know of you is kindness. Please don't speak so lowly of yourself. You've harmed me in doing so."

"I've harmed you?" His arms tightened around her body. Danetta loved the secure feeling.

"Yes, Sir. You've harmed me. When you insult yourself, you wound my heart."

Silence.

She waited for a response, or at least something to signify an emotion, but she was given nothing.

Danetta made a show of sniffing as if she were about to cry. She was worried she might eventually become so miserable that she wouldn't need a pretense. "Pity your poor wife, Dear Master. She longs to know her husband's body."

"I thought ... I'm sorry." She felt the weight of his head on the top of hers. His hands were sliding up and down her back. "When I decided to marry you, I thought I'd be able to show you." There was a growing rattle in his voice, a melancholy that seemed to be slowly becoming tangible, because Danetta thought she could feel his pain deep in her bones.

"What changed?"

"I lost my courage."

Danetta reminded herself that he had lost a woman over his appearance, and then she kissed a button on his waistcoat, feeling the expensive metal against her lips. "Dear Husband," she told him softly, lovingly, "if exposing your face and body would be so traumatic to you, then I'll wait until you have your courage again, but you must try to understand my point of view."

Duke Adurant patted her back and nuzzled her hair. "Hmmm?"

"I do care for you, Dear Husband, and I admire your strength. To have that strength embrace me with affection would be thrilling. Your physical appearance means little to me."

There was laughter, quiet, aching laughter, pulsing over her head. Then her husband said, "We could refer to each other by our given names, if you'd like."

She closed her eyes and rubbed her face from side to side on his waistcoat. She loved the warm textile. "I'd certainly like that, Errrrrrrdgar." Danetta stretched out his name like a lazy limb on a sleepy morning.

"Then, this night, I'll come to your bedroom." Danetta had to listen carefully to hear him. "I won't promise to reveal myself, but I will try to please you."

Danetta's hidden channel twinged between her thighs, putting a sigh in her chest.

***

When a butler came to them, alerting them of the arrival of the guest, Danetta was in a fairly happy mood. She had been innocently holding her beloved Erdgar's hand and admiring a painting that had been recently hung. It was a portrait of a long dead relative of her husband's. She hadn't seen any paintings of Erdgar's parents, nor of Erdgar himself. Apparently, he had them in storage somewhere. Perhaps her husband associated them with a negative emotion? He seemed to like this particular painting hanging before them, though, because he went to the trouble of having it taken from his castle to the townhouse.

Once the butler had finished his duty, Danetta thanked him and smiled. "Your Marchioness is here, Erdgar."

Erdgar nodded and let his leather palm run up and down the printed cotton of her dress' back. "I hope she'll be your Marchioness as well, my darling Danetta."

She muffled a giggle after he said that.

Erdgar put her hand on his arm and they walked to the townhouse's drawing room. When they were there, Danetta's eyes broadened and her jaw lowered.

The person sitting so patiently in the drawing room couldn't possibly be a Marchioness, Danetta thought, because she looked to be a girl as young as sixteen with a body that was almost bony. This was contradictory to Danetta's idea of her, because her husband had once mentioned that the Marchioness was close to thirty years old. When the guest rose from her seat and curtsied, Danetta realized something else. The guest was shorter than her, and Danetta was quite short.

"Your Graces, I'm so pleased be here." Her voice was light and cheerful, as charming as a cool morning with wind chimes gracing the air.

Erdgar released his wife and bowed to the guest. "Lillitu, may I introduce my wife, the good Duchess Danetta Adurant?"

The guest's rosy little lips pulled themselves into a nearly perfect smile as Danetta curtsied to her. "I'm glad to meet you, My Lady," Danetta said, still suspicious, but remaining polite.

"Oh, Dear Erdgar, what a lovely wife you have." Her dark blue eyes seemed to be soaked in mischief. "Lillitu is my given name, and you have permission to use it." The white feathers on the brooch pinned to her small hat fluttered in the air as she tilted her head. "Might I have the pleasure of using your given name, Madam?"

Danetta couldn't see the harm in it, since she was already using her husband's given name, although she felt a little bit jealous at knowing this woman was on a first name basis with him, and Danetta had to wait a few days after her marriage to reach that point.

"Of course, My Lady. Oh!" Danetta laced her fingers together and held her hands under her great bosom. "I mean, Lillitu."

Lillitu nodded, and then she put her remarkably small hand to her own bosom, which was amazingly little, barely even there, although her neckline was very low. There was a "modesty" kerchief of white fabric pinned to the neckline, but the fabric was so diaphanous that the woman's dusty pink nipples were clearly visible. It was quite a daring neckline for a simple house visit.

"I'm so excited for you two, and quite proud of Mr. Gloomy over there." Her head jerked towards the duke. Then she laughed loudly, and her tone of voice changed from something soft and polite to something loud and almost obnoxious. "Ah haha! You two are in for a trip!" Danetta cringed at her sudden change, but she didn't notice any reaction from Erdgar.

"I'd imagine so," Erdgar said, gesturing to the seats. "We should sit down."

The married couple chose a sofa while the Marchioness took a chair.

"I'd rather not waste time," Lillitu said, making expressive gestures with her diminutive hands. Her fingernails were shiny with only hints of lunulae. "I should begin teaching you everything I know of Henrisk fashions and activities. You've both been out of mode, for different reasons of course, but we can't deny the results, now can we?" She let out another laugh. It was so loud that it was almost distasteful. "Most things are the same, but you've missed a few popular dances and other fads. I have no choice but to play tutor for you both."

For the rest of the day, Lillitu taught them the basics of a few dances. When they had to practice with a tune, Lillitu played a harpsichord while giving them verbal instructions. As a teacher, Lillitu was firm, unyielding, but also encouraging. She was the sort of teacher who would say, "Wrong! WRONG! That was a complete failure; you can do better! You're so bright and capable! Now hop to it!" She would never say something like, "You'll never get it! You're so stupid!" Oh no, far from that. She seemed merciful enough, but she was also crude. Danetta often forgot she was an aristocrat.

Up to that point, the experience was the most entertaining day of her life. She was actually learning something, and at the same pace as her husband. The couple laughed at each other when they failed at something, but it they both knew it was in an empathetic manner. They touched each other's hands and arms as they spun around the room. Sometimes they accidentally ran into a piece of furniture, even though Erdgar had moved the furniture to the walls.

It was the most normal, the most human activity she had ever remembered engaging in with her husband. It was a full activity, pregnant with the desire to understand, to gain knowledge. Danetta thought it was the most beautiful, most meaningful part of intelligence. Learning. Without learning, there is nothing.

And she shared this intoxication of an activity with Erdgar.

Danetta knew that nothing else could be so beautiful.

When it was time for Lillitu to leave, she handed them two paper invitations to her next dinner party. There would be no dancing, but it was still a social engagement. Lillitu shot Erdgar a weary but knowing look, and she said, "You aren't going to eat in front of anyone, are you?"

"No, Lillitu." His answer had a bit of a groan in the words.

A flick of her tiny wrist, and Lillitu said, "You'll have to eat before you arrive, then, but you'll be missing out! I have perfect tastes in food! Perfect!" She rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her milky brown colored hair. Then she smiled again. Her teeth were incredibly straight. "You must wear something ravishing, Danetta. You must! You have a marvelous figure, and it would do your husband good to have a bit of vanity. He'll need something extra tasty to look at while he's stubbornly refusing to eat, and I don't think even my food will tempt him."

Danetta was already thinking of all the beautiful clothing her dearest Erdgar had lovingly provided for her, and she was mentally scanning each option for her first dinner party in years.

Lillitu tapped her golden pin on her shoulder. It bore her family crest, a symbol of a dragonfly. "This is my crest. I do feel a special connection to dragonflies. I haven't been to Castle Adurant in quite some time, Danetta, but I do believe there are butterflies on some of the doors in the place. Is this still true?"

Danetta nodded.

Smiling again, Lillitu said to her, "I love metaphors, my dear new friend, and I believe you're a butterfly."

Erdgar folded his arms as he stood near his wife. "A butterfly? I like this metaphor. What am I?"

"A burned tree that's growing flowers again, which is perfect for a hungry butterfly." She winked at him.

When she was gone, Danetta turned to Erdgar and hopped up so she could kiss his head. She accidentally tasted the fabric, but she didn't mind.

***

Only her chemise shielded her curved body from the cool night air tumbling out from the open window. She stood by that window, uncaring if any passers-by noticed her. She was feeling beautiful. Erdgar would come soon. He had said so.

Danetta heard a polite knock on her bedroom door. Her heart fizzled in her ears and puffed up in her chest. She closed the window and locked it. Her bare feet hardly seemed to touch the hardwood floor as she raced to the door. She opened it and beamed up at Erdgar, who wasn't wearing his coat. She loved his informal attire. She could see all of his black waistcoat and the sleeves of his immaculate shirt.

Hmmmm? His black leather gloves were holding a cloth bag. Danetta was curious, but she thought it might be a gift, and it was probably best to let him explain in his own time.

"Please enter, Sweet Husband." She stepped aside and let him walk into her room. As she closed and locked her door, she said, "I hope you're feeling well."

"As well as I can be." He sat down on her bed and waited.

Danetta assumed she was meant to sit beside him. She hoped her glowing oil lamp would show off her body's silhouette under her chemise. The material wasn't very thick. Her wide hips swayed as she padded over to him and took her place on the bed. She smiled as she felt his arm around her shoulders. Then she looked down at the bag in his lap.