Denise slowly lifted herself off the handsome man and with a forced smile, she said,

"It is that time of the month, my lord" she stared at him. He stared at her. Silence.

"I have news regarding the business scheme" she tried to pry the attention away from her lie.He didn't respond.

The silence continued with a fury.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked after an eternity of miserable silence swallowed whatever life force she had set aside to survive the very day.

"Pardon my lord?" That was a shocking question, not her pardon but his concern for her well being. The man could notice emotions that were not his or rather emotions related to another? Maybe she had misjudged the man. The book must've been a lunatic's work.

"Is something bothering you...Colette" the humanity in the man continued to persist.

She even felt human herself. Was he having a hard time coming to terms with her presence in his life as his wife?Thus the reason for the hesitation before he called forth the name of a dead woman? But she was currently inhabiting the body of the same dead woman. She was a ghost, with warm mammary glands.

"Nothing of importance my lord"

May the dead rest in peace, she thought, listening to her heart beat.

A knock on the door and Hank, the handler and what she assumed to be the Duke's assistant,walked in with letters. Hank offered them with a bloody hand. The duke took them without a care in the world. She opted for the same decision. Ignorance is bliss.

"What is it?" the duke asked, she thought he was referring to Hank.

"Wife?" he asked again, baring his beautiful eyes at her.

Their communication skills as a married couple were the epitome of terrible. It was as if a hidden wall named Deceit stood between them. It was also arousing in its own terrible way.

"I..." an idea struck her. She could kill two birds with one stone and no one would be the wiser.

"My nanny,Anna Miller, raised me when my mother passed away.Well, it has come to my attention that she's disappeared and I don't have the slightest idea where to find her. She was like a mother to me. I don't think I can bare going on, knowing that she's missing and no one cares in the slightest, to find her." crying would never help in this situation. It was best to lie, with a fresh and dry face.

"Hank" the blood lord spoke

"Yes my lord"

"Get Rowan and find the nanny"

"My lord" she interjected playing the humble wife "I wouldn't dare ask you to send your resources to find a cherished person in my life, who means the absolute world to me and should any harm have come to her, I would be absolutely distraught and it would affect my duties as the Duchess of the Northern Gates and I can't even imagine what would transpire in the estate..."

"Colette" his voice, so gentle but his eyes, his eyes saw right through her ploy, he was not a foolish man.

"Yes my lord" she replied with the same gentle voice and viper like stare. Two could play on the Wall of Deceit.

"She will be found, unharmed and alive. "

"Thank you my lord" she stood up to leave, an actual smile on her face. The day's luck had run out.

"Wait" he spoke and she turned very slowly to him. He couldn't speak a dead ancient Cygan tribal language could he?

"You have a letter" he pushed a letter to her. She looked at it. Her hands were sweating. Was it the lover? Was it the lover? Was it the lover?Was it the lover?Was it the lover?Was it the lover?Was it the lover?Was it the lover?

"Colette?" he asked with a smile and she imagined Hank's hands getting bloodier with her head on the desk.

Was it the lover?

The question ran through her brain like a toxic mantra of doom. She picked up the letter and saw a noble seal stamp. It made everything ten times worse.She opened the letter. The room fell silent.

Don't be the lover. Don't be the lover.Don't be the lover.Don't be the lover.Don't be the lover.Don't be the lover.Don't be the lover.Don't be the lover.Don't be the lover.

To The Duchess of the Northern Gates,

The Marquess and Marchioness of Penrove, cordially invite the Duke and Duchess of the Northern Gates to their esteemed ball in honor of the birth of the first born son, Lord Fredrick of Penrove...

Her duties as a duchess were catching up to her, she could feel the universe staring down at her with mockery and contempt. But she would live, that was the epitome of the joke. She would live today.

"We've been invited to a ball by the Marquess and Marchioness of Penrove. They have been blessed with a son" she said with a smile. The sweat was drying from her palms and her heart was beating slower and calmer. Crisis, averted.

The Duke stared at her, the cigar was still between his finger tips, his hair a mess and his cheeks with a slight flush. He looked absolutely wonderful. She swallowed. He was such a handsome man, it would blind anyone. She wasn't oblivious to it.