Chapter 25
A DIFFERENT SPECIES
DUNCAN
Iboth adored and loathed Eloise Mills after whatever we were calling that run in.
I’d already been on the edge before she had the audacity to touch me.
In all my life, no woman had gone the extra mile to use me like that.
Of course, my sample of the types of women I could sleep with or meet was limited.
It's not like I could safely call up my neighborhood dominatrix for a good time.
No, Eloise didn't need much encouragement.
I didn't know if she'd done this before—I assumed not—but I wasn't opposed to continuing.
She got herself off through some sort of witchcraft.
The way she looked at me with a steely glance while cumming would live in the spankbank for the next however long.
When I returned downstairs, I attempted to act like I hadn't nearly creamed my pants before I made it back to my room.
Ella was down in the kitchen laying out everything she needed to prep dinner, all with a bounce in her step.
I wanted a lie down but if I let the perky young woman know that, she'd know I was old and tired.
“You alright? Did I exhaust you?” Ella giggled.
“No. I'm quite alright. Uh. Fine.” I scratched my head nervously. “I can help.”
“You can cook?” She asked.
“No need for a bit of misandry this afternoon, Miss Mills,” I joked. “My mother didn't raise me to be clueless and incapable. My father's ineptitude still annoys her.”
“Your mom cooks? But your dad doesn't?”
She sounded terribly American—more than in recent memory. She continued to pull me into whatever web she spun whether she knew or not.
“My grandmother felt it necessary for all her children and grandchildren to learn to cook.
So, we did. In contrast, Dad was raised by nannies and could burn water.
Mum finds his helplessness somewhat endearing.
She likes to be able to solve everyone's problems, but sometimes I think she'd like him to make her a meal.
It's nice having dinner and not being catered to by half a dozen people.”
“Wait, wait, so Her Majesty was raised by her mother, but your father was raised by nannies?”
“If you recall, my grandmother was raised in America. While she was fabulously wealthy, incredibly clever, and kind to a fault when she married in, she was also quintessentially American. Mum appreciated that non-nonsense approach to parenting. My paternal grandparents were blue bloods who sent Dad to boarding school at age seven.”
“Let's unpack this all,” Ella said. “One, I gather you'd rather not have been an only? I can relate.”
“Really? You strike me as an oldest child.”
“And you strike me as the spoiled youngest child,” Eloise said.
“Miss Mills! You wound me!” I grabbed my chest.
She mimed pulling an arrow out. “If the shoe fits, Duncan.”
“No, no, it's fair. I was the child they were told they'd never had. But they wanted more. Dad was always lonely growing up, so he always felt bad.”
“But were your parents present? They sound engaged.”
“They were. I was always Dad’s priority, which is why it hurts when I step out of line.
He wonders what he fucked up in a past life, and I wonder why I cannot just behave myself.
Mum was always hellishly busy like any monarch is, but she was still there for me.
And I had tons of cousins, aunts, and uncles around.
It wasn't too bad until I was an adult and had the daily press asshattery I face now.”
“I have no cousins,” Ella said. “It was lonely.
I had a nanny as my mother loathed being a mother—which is why I am an only.
I don't blame her per-se. She had a hard time of it.
But my father made it to every important thing—every school assembly, every horse show, every choir performance, every dance recital.
I didn't know many people who got that lucky in my social circle.”
“You ride?”
Ella nodded. “Used to. Haven't in years.”
“We must tell Mummy you ride. This is important information. Relevant.”
“You expect me to be around long enough to act upon such information, Duncan?”
“A man can dream,” I shrugged. “Or, rather, I am indebted to you, Miss Mills, until this series wraps up, yes?”
“Uh-huh.” She crossed her arms. “We're not another species.”
“What?”
“American women. We're not a different species. Promise.”
“No, but you do approach things differently. I never said I disliked it. I rather like how domineering you are,” I said.
“You say lots and do little. Go destem the thyme and be useful,” Ella said.
“Yes, ma'am.”