His Beloved- A Historical Fiction
"Your grace?" He broke her trance, which was obviously trained on him and his blonde dance partner on the floor. He knew what to do to rile her up, and here she was burning holes on the back of Myra.
She was positively startled, after being caught red-handed by the viscount himself...Oh no, now he would know she was staring at him, and his...partner. Oh Lord, what she wouldn't do to burn the hands of those nasty females that dared to lay their hands on the sexy Viscount.
"May I have a dance with the beautiful lady?" He quipped extending his right hand to her, which was flatly denied.
"My card is full, Viscount Khurana" She spoke haughtily, her nose high up in the air...not even glancing in his direction. Her lie clearly visible on her beautiful face, his lips upturned at the corner.
"May I see it, your grace, if it doesn't offend you" He said amused, his arms engulfing her small, petite form as she instantly stood up at his request. Oh no, what would she do now? She shifted from one foot to other, her heels paining from the high boots she wore. "No.." And she hid the card behind her back. His eyebrows quirked up at her sudden movement; now he would surely know that she was lying. She gulped in anticipation, what he was going to do now? Will he demand her to dance with him...or will he lose his interest on her. Seems he chose the latter, since he moved back to his blonde partner. So lost she was in her thoughts, she didn't realize the announcement of the grand ball dance to be taking place in next few minutes.
Although as promised, she was whisked to the dance floor by the visiting duke, Duke Nishant...of Sanford. He twirled her round and round, much to her chagrin...it really was making her dizzy and the selfish duke didn't even bother about her. It was making her so darn angry. Thank the heavens, it was just for few minutes as they had to exchange their respective partners.
The duke started to engage her in a conversation... "So you are the daughter of Duke Handa, must say you must be quite a spend-thrift" Uh oh absolutely wrong words to speak to a gentle-lady, a duchess nonetheless.
Still for curtsey sake she replied, "It's my late father Duke Handa Senior... I am niece of the presiding Duke, Duke Handa Junior... Your reverence, Shivraj Handa" She said with much admire and adoration. He really was a father-figure to her, yet he taught her everything that was required from a duchess...from sword fighting to etiquettes, she had it all. Yet not even the seventeen chapters of etiquettes could stop her from obsessing over the sexy viscount, who paid no attention to her...least of all her status. That made her frown considerably.
"What made you upset, your grace? Does my company bother you?" Nishant asked his lips puckered. Okay she must admit he was quite the adorable kind, but just not...handsome...enough. Of course no one could bat an eyelid against the sexy Viscount Maan Singh Khurana.
"No my lord, I find your company quite...interesting" She quipped, interesting...she would rather bury herself in her bed than being in his company; not after the utter humiliating rejection from the viscount. She thanked God, for the bell for changing of partners rang right then.
She heaved a sigh of relief, but it was quite short-lived as she landed in arms of none other than her dream-snatcher, Viscount Maan Singh Khurana. Oh curse her darned luck!
"Must I say you feel quite delightful, your grace" She sucked in a breath, as he bent down to whisper in her right ear, "much more delightful in my arms than the previous meeting we had". Oh she remembered it quite vividly, alright. The viscount was quite a charm the month she had arrived, two months back previously. He was quite popular amongst the gossiping ton, for his charm as well as for his increasing trade in the horse racing, his farm and of course the main trade with which he had begun in the town when he was just a new arrival in Cranford- jewellery making.
As heard from the tales of the gossiping ton, he was quite a poor peasant when he had arrived, with just a pair of clothing and a horse and just meagre amount of food of water to keep him alive for the day. Duke Handa Senior took him in; he was just nineteen summers at that time. Quite a candy sight to the ladies' eye though, no one paid him a second glance because he had no title. He seemed fined by that, which according to Geet worked in his favour; as it provided him no distraction. At first he was allotted a house, and three times meal a day. People used to wonder what he was doing inside the closed doors, with slightest of thumping sounds. Finally he got out with a bag upon his shoulder, requesting to meet the duke. After half a day he was allowed to enter the Duke's mansion. The Duke was extremely surprised at the gift.
It was rumoured that the duke had loaned him some money to begin a trade, and much diligently he had used the nine thousand grands to prepare a ruby studded crown for the duchess. It was such a great sight to the eyes of the commoner. Many queens of other countries envied the queen and even tried to buy it but in vain. The queen wouldn't part with it, saving it for her daughter...her beautiful and gorgeous daughter, Geet Handa.
The same day, Maan was raised from the status of the poor peasant to a guard, of course after a duel. It seemed, Maan was multi-talented after all, what with the swift movements of his sword fights as if he was trained to fight, like a prince. Slowly he went on with the trade of making jewellery and raising a farm simultaneously, as if he was on a mission to succeed. People who witnessed him work, said he wasn't satisfied with his trades...some said he craved for more money...some said he vied for the position of the duke but not a single word from the said man. Fight after fight he raised his sword against the bravest of brave men, challenging them to defeat and some to death...he rose in his status...guard to royal guard, then financial keeper to the owner of plot handling...to being a count. And then now he was the Viscount, her very sexy Viscount Maan Singh Khurana. Still the drive to work hard was present inside him.
Days and months passed by. Five years went as he excelled in each of the fields he took a liking to.
His farms faired well as it bore sufficient vegetables and fruits to feed the population of Cranford. Next he started taking part in horse racing, much to the chagrin of the lords of the town. It seemed wherever Maan set foot he succeeded excellently. He fought as a valiant swordsman, rode the horse like a knight, ploughed the land like an honest farmer and carved the jewels like a perfect craftsman. People were naturally shocked at his success and so were the gentle-ladies of the town who had previously ignored him.
Girls started throwing themselves at him, and he quiet enjoyed it; apart from the horse racing competitions he conducted and the painting hobby he indulged in. Quite haughtily he had announced that whichever lady managed to spend the longest time with him, obviously chaperoned...shall marry him. In midst of all that he was quite favoured by the duke and his family...specially by the Duke Senior and Junior...for he trained the guards of Cranford quite well if need arose for a fight.
That was the day, the eldest daughter of Duke Senior, Geet Handa had arrived in the town. She was sent to boarding school when she was just eleven summers-
"A Penny for those thoughts, your grace" He smirked pulling her closer.
"It seems you didn't learn your lesson the last time we met, peasant" She taunted, raising her nose up high. Maan stiffened for a bit, his grip loosening a bit. Oh darn her mouth, she shouldn't have said that, mentally slapping herself; she stepped away from him preparing to run away. He politely held her back, turning her around he twisted her hand behind her back almost conspicuously as he cocked his head near to her earlobe, "Yet it is the same peasant, your belated father favoured in his last days rather than his own daughter, your grace" He bit out, nipping her earlobe...she grit her teeth in anger, it was quite surprising why did her father prefer his company? She yelped in surprise, jumping a bit...startled he would behave so atrociously in a gathering. Again he turned her around in a sudden move, shivers passing down her spine with the intimate way he touched her, "Yet it is the same peasant, whose touch..." He lowered his voice, "whose kiss you enjoyed that day" He smiled back at her startled face, "your grace". His voice so enchanting, drawing her close...his lips hovering just inches over hers... "Like it milady?" He whispered so erotically, she almost had an orgasm right then and there. Unconsciously her body moved closer to his, her eyes staring right back into his...drowning her in a pool of desire and emotions still undiscovered by her.
However her trance broke, when the bell rang indicating the end of the grand ball dance, still he refused to let go, her breasts crushed against his hard toned chest, clad with an expensive suit. Sometimes she wondered did he steal from the Cranford's financial accounts safe during his tenure as the accountant? She stepped back almost instantly, "Sword-fighting and money doesn't change your birth status viscount Khurana, a peasant always a peasant" She threw back harshly and walked away, her head raised up arrogantly. Her hips still swaying sensuously making heads turn and Maan grit his teeth in fury and jealousy. Love is such a cruel feeling indeed, so self-destructive...he mused bitterly. He ran behind her, pulling her back equally ruthless "I don't put my heart in front of you just to crush it, beware your grace, it may cost you your heart" He turned away but then turned back and crushed her petite form to his, "Come find me...when you clear your head off the title...when you have place for love in your void heart". The whole interaction being watched like a hawk by the Duke as he smiled inwardly. Oh Young love, how much he adored it!
Two weeks after his announcement for the girls to spend time with him, her cousin had stringed her along, to his camp around which he spent the time with the very eager ladies. Her cousin, Neha, very excited she was, as promised by the viscount Maan, to be able to catch hold of Lord Prem Kapoor and thus arrange a meeting. Her very strict father, Duke Shivraj wouldn't allow her to go unchaperoned, hence she brought along Geet to act as her chaperone. Unwillingly Geet followed her hyper cousin to the camp. Uncaringly her cousin left her alone inside the tent with Maan as she went to meet Lord Prem.
Nervously Geet wringed her fingers with her pink lacy gown...she had felt so inadequately dressed under the intimidating gaze of the viscount. Obviously she had heard about the charming viscount of the town, which drove most of the gentle-ladies in Cranford to putty under his feet. Unable to ease her tension she had dared to look up into the eyes of the viscount, and she was done for. His face so arrestingly handsome, his eyes giving her the heated look almost shrinking her into a hot pool of mess. His gaze so mesmerizing that when he touched her cheek delicately, she came undone. Fiercely he had pulled her by her nape, and sucked the life out of her lips. The sexual undercurrent lying between them, gave rise to his aggressiveness in the kiss as he wrapped his arm around her slim waist consuming her being. Slowly and sensuously he had sucked her lips, revelling in the state of euphoria he was in. Geet was very much in a state of daze, ignoring her cousin's wild gasp of shock, she fisted the black mass of his hair and thrust her tongue inside his mouth. He had purred in delight at the ravishing woman in his arms...oh she was the one he wanted, and destined to be with. As soon he had the realization he had stepped away, he was now alarmed of the company they had. He didn't want to compromise her, he would rather court her for a long period, eventually propose and then marry her. However her cousin and his partner witnessing their position complicated things.
Geet had felt so peaceful at the touch of his lips on hers, they fit hers so perfectly, her breasts moulding in his callous hands rather impeccably...and then the forlorn feeling of rejection. She opened her eyes instantly, shocked how could she behave so recklessly...how could she let that...that peasant almost compromise her. She now had to convince her cousin to not speak a word to her uncle or her father...she gulped in fear at the thought. She slapped Maan that instant calling him an opportunist peasant and what not, insulting him like anything. They immediately left before Maan could explain anything to her...thankfully Geet convinced Neha to not speak about it to her father or uncle, although her aunt gave her a nice lecture about fraternizing with men of her own stature, Neha tried to intervene but was stopped much rudely...Duchess Handa feared their wealth would be plundered and their town overtaken by atrocious goons staying nearby- courtesy the rumour she heard from Myra's mother; and also the fact that their family had no sons, and her daughters were very gullible, they could be easily cheated by any mere peasant and thus they would be left heart-broken. Innumerable times she had warned Geet to not mix with people of lower titles and thus to respect her mother figure, she had followed them diligently However the very next day the viscount was called immediately to the mansion, the duke senior's health had taken a turn for the worse...and the duke had very worriedly asked for Maan, thereby sending away Geet from his room.
Duke Senior at that time, indulged in too much alcohol as his beloved wife passed away just two months back, Geet though wasn't attached much to her mother, she was very much the Daddy's girl hence she took her father's passing away quite hard. Before passing away the duke had given a letter to Maan, which was sent to him by Maan's father-
"Are you still infatuated by her, Viscount?" Prem asked his comrade, his partner in the business which wouldn't have flourished without his help and techniques. Even after the two months since the duke expired away and their kiss, Maan seemed to be brooding and sad, also very much in love with the beautiful young duchess. Thank the heavens he didn't fall in love with the haughty lady Handa, his thoughts taking an erotic turn as he pictured his betrothed his sweet beautiful Neha in his bed sheets.
Still he couldn't believe how Maan could love the arrogant lady after the innumerable times she had rejected him and taunted him.
"I love her" He gritted, sipping on his wine. Yes he loved her, that one kiss was enough for him to acknowledge his feelings, he knew she was the one...behind the hard exterior he saw the meek and innocent girl she was. Obviously she was still a maiden, he made sure of that. He just didn't know why she had drilled it into her memory that title was required for the position of her husband.
Yet...he smiled reminiscing...she was so much like his father, the very striving need to be surrounded by titled men and their grandeur the etiquettes, he thought wistfully still nursing his rejected heart from the incident back two months when she had rejected his proposal of courtship, turning down his offer for marriage. How could she be so ruthless and heartless, when her father and mother were so humble and gracious?
Prem signalled at the blonde lady hiding in a much revealing outfit to entice Maan from the dark thoughts he always seemed to be in. Unknown to his best-friend's plans, Maan drank another glass of wine shoving the glass he stood up...but he was pushed down to the bed by the strikingly beautiful lady in front of him. "Geet... You came" He babbled smiling happily, drawing her closer to him. She came to him, willingly...without caring about the title, he thought happily.
Yet...
Something felt off, it felt so wrong to touch her...he pushed her away that instant rushing to the washroom, he washed his face thoroughly. The red witch sauntered into the washroom carelessly, flaring Maan's anger...the bloody light skirt that she was...he gripped her arm harshly and dragged her out his room. Now wondering who let her in, in his private chamber. He felt so enraged, so furious. He marched upto Prem who was yapping happily with Neha chaperoned by Geet, the red witch following Maan in tow.
Maan punched Prem, "how dare you?" He was furious, he knew he loved Geet...he wanted to be with her only her yet he pulled such tricks, "Get out of my settlement right this instant, Lord Kapoor". He could feel the burning holes behind his back, and he knew who could burn him to this extent...Geet. Prem immediately got up and ready to fight back when Neha stopped him and whisked him away to calm him down. Maan, Geet and the red witch stood awkwardly, however Geet glaring at Maan and the light skirt. They were standing too close for her liking. From the corner of his eyes he saw Geet shaking with jealousy...her face distorted to a frown, looking at the space between him and the light-skirt...What did he say find him...when she has love...now who is finding love'
"Seems love is overflowing your filled up heart, Viscount?" She said, jealousy leaking from her tone. Her arms crossed around her chest in a protective stance, as if protecting her heart.
"Are you claiming control over something you rejected, your grace?" He smirked, pulling the disgrace closer and that bloody light skirt oh so happily leaned in. God he would need to bath again before going to bed! Geet stomped her feet and walked away, mumbling outrageously.
Earlier she was satisfied he would love no one else as she never saw him with other, she believed his love...another push and she would have given in to his demands...but now what? Her love was slipping out of her hands...how could she so selfishly expect him to remain celibate when she rejected him and when it hurts so much. How could she? She looked out of her window to find Neha and Lord Prem standing, cosily to each other. They are so happy...so in love...could she risk her heart? Her aunt had innumerable times warned her to guard her heart, could she risk it? She was advised so many times to fraternize with men of her status...could she risk it? Would love make her happy...happy enough to give up her title..her reputation? She just couldn't decide what to do.
Indecisively she walked into the chamber of Duke Handa, the duchess and him being in a deep conversation. She cleared her throat to gain their attention, slowly she walked to them placing her head in the duchess' lap. "What happened dear? You look so forlorn?" The duchess asked concerned, she had never seen Geet so sad...looking so broken and distressed.
"I am missing...father, your grace" She whispered, tears dropping down her cheeks. "Oh my poor child" The duchess cradled her against her chest. She truly sympathised with the poor child. "Cry not my dear, you are the heiress of this large empire...you should stay strong" The duke smiled at her warmly, picking her up. "And you need just a partner to begin with.." He winked at her. "And lots of love and babies to expand it...". Geet blushed almost instantly, oh what she wouldn't sacrifice to be with the man she loves and bear his children, speaking of the man...what would it feel to be loved by that delicious body, those hard toned abs and perfect hands...her lower body ached with pleasure. Her cheeks reddened more if possible, oh lord how could she have such sinful thoughts when sitting in front of her family. She quickly wiped her tears and sat back, "Tell me, how did father and mother meet?"
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