[Ch.29 🔥] The Duchess & The Damned [Wattpad Edition]

Things To Keep In Mind

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Previously on The Duchess & The Damned ...

"... Please? Just for a-"

They were in the kitchen's walk-in pantry a moment later, Emilia gasping as she was pulled along. Quick to close the door behind them, they were engulfed in dim light from the early evening through the small, curtain-less window. He sighed as his forearm came to rest against the closed door, his head hanging low as his thoughts raced.

He scoffed to himself.

"Wouldn't you feel awful if I were to lose my head?"

Emilia's head lowered with guilt, her hands picking at one another as she sheepishly inched towards the scolding butler. Cheeks bright, she struggled for an answer. She had debated coming down at all. Hearing it from Charles only made her feel more shameful. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to leave.

Not when her body felt so hot.

"Forgive me ..." She pleaded, eyes unable to make contact.

"And if I don't?" Charles toyed, getting her to look up at him. Blue eyes wide with a beg, her brows pinched at the possible rejection. But Charles eased her worry with a smug smile, his hand reaching up to cup at her flushed cheek.

"Let's review."

"Hopeless little things," Alfred sighed to himself as he came back from actually helping the maids in the dining hall. Looking around the now seemingly empty kitchen, Alfred grumbled, his hands curling into fists as they found his hips. "Oh, great," he huffed. "And now the muscle's run off."

He sighed, staring at the board of unfinished carrots.

"I hope I didn't strike a nerve ... He usually at least says his goodbyes ..." he mumbled to himself, actually worried.

Glancing over to his pot of stew and the counter of spices beside it, he noticed a number missing that needed to be added to the mix. Never being one to wallow, he decided to focus on the task at hand. The meals wouldn't cook themselves. Especially not if Charles was the one helping.

"Well ..." he sighed as he approached the kitchen pantry. "If you want something done right ..."

Alfred's complaint was cut off by the widening of his eyes - and jaw. He'd only opened the door a crack, but it was all he needed to see the two figures engrossed with one another within. Immediately he recognized the young duchess, face flushed and legs spread, propped against the window's edge.

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