The Duke and the Peasant

The job was a necessary evil. Money earned sent back to struggling parents and siblings.

Moire was the oldest, but at eighteen still hadn’t caught the eye of any local lads, so it made sense to send her off to work, and after helping raise her younger siblings she was certainly qualified.

The Duke was almost never home, always gallivanting around the countryside on his horses, trying to catch a leprechaun, or so they said.

Rumours had it he spent more than he ever earned, and he wanted a never-ending pile of gold.

Moire did her best to stay out of his way, until she couldn’t.

“Ye’ve been summoned.” The housekeeper prodded her in the back. “Ye’re to meet with the Duke.”

Moire dragged her feet as she followed the guards back to the Duke’s rooms.

Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed rich tapestries, but she was too scared to lift her eyes from the lush carpet her feet sank into.

“Ye’re a pretty little thing.”

Moire blushed, and curtsied. She didn’t know what else to do.

“Look at me, let me see you’re face.”

She glanced up. The Duke’s gaze met hers, his green eyes filled with a hunger. “Do you have all you need?”

She nodded.

“But there’s a family back home to tend, little ones, am I right?”

She nodded again. “My younger siblings.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I wish for your aid, and in return I’ll grant you riches you’ve never dreamed of.”

She waited. The world he lived in was riches she’d never dreamed of, but if rumours were true his debts were bigger still. How could he promise such a thing.

“I wish for ye to help me catch a leprechaun.”

“What?” Moire was so surprised she couldn’t hide her snort of laughter.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re people are peasants, are they not? And do the common folk not know magic’s the rich could only dream of? I’ve heard the tales, girl, I know of these secrets.”

“If the poor knew magic the rich could only dream of we’d be the ones who were rich.” Moire shook her head. “I know enough to know the fairy folk are not to be messed with. They give their blessings when and where they will, and there’s no forcing them.”

“Ha! See. You do know more than me. I seek a wish. Just one. You can have the other two. That’s the deal, am I not correct? A leprechaun grants three wishes for its freedom.”

Moire didn’t know what to say. The duke was a fool. But she did know stories, tales her gran had shared, ways to catch the creature the Duke was after.

“Very well.” She took a deep breath. “I know of traps, but I have never tested them. I cannot guarantee they’ll work.”

He waved his hand. “Unless we try, how will we know? Now, what do you need?”

He didn’t even blink when she told him she needed a jewel, something big and shiny.

He handed it over as if it was nothing, and yet it selling it would have provided for her family for the rest of their lives.

He took her out on his horse, sitting side-saddle across his lap as though it were most natural thing in the world.

Moire had never been so close to a man who wasn’t family. His arms around her were strong, his scent pleasant. She’d been warned away from men and what they might want, but he treated her no differently to anyone else.

They travelled to a meadow, where she wove a loose basket from fallen twigs and set it up not too far from a babbling brook, propped above the gleaming gem.

They camped nearby, his gaze on the trap as she bustled around cooking on the fire.

They slept in the same tent. He didn’t want too many human things around, thought it might scare away the creature.

He was patient. Sensible in a lot of ways. He didn’t expect to catch it on the first night, or even the fifth.

“We need to blend in with the surroundings, lose our human scent, become one with nature.

He insisted on hushed conversation, on watching, waiting, listening.

As the week passed Moire found she enjoyed his company far more than any others. She noticed his strength as he dragged fallen branches from the woods to feed our fire, and learned of his kindness as he helped cook their meals. She felt his gaze on her as they watched the flames, but when she looked his way his gaze was always elsewhere.

Did she imagine it?

She yearned for him to pull her close as they slept side by side, but he was the perfect gentleman, always keeping his distance.

He was rich, she was poor. It was in her best interests to stay distant.

A soft snap pulled her from a half-sleep, then his hand clasped her shoulder for the first time, a warmth travelling her body to pool in her groin.

She thought perhaps he was making his move, but then the sounds from outside met her ears, and she didn’t know whether to be glad or terrified.

“Ah curse the blethering fools who trapped me. Where are ye? Show yer face, ye scoundrals.”

The Duke’s eyes shone, his face lit up like a child on their birth day.

She stumbled out of the tent after him, as he pulled a burning branch from the fire and carried it over to the trap.

Sure enough there was a small man inside, sporting a red bushy beard and green cap.

“There ye are, ye scoundrals. Let me out before I curse everything that brought ye here.”

“That’s not how it works.” The Duke shook his head. “You owe us three wishes first.”

The leprechaun hugged the jewel close. “Then stop yer lollygagging and get on wit it.”

The Duke took a deep breath. “I wish for love. True love, the sort where a partner is a friend, where the marriage bed is a place of joy for all involved, where we can be easy companions in silence and in conversation.”

“Is that all?” The leprechaun’s tone was sarcastic. “And what else might ye be asking for?”

The Duke turned to Moire. “I gave my word. The remaining wishes are yours.”

Moire bit her lip. She had to be careful. The fairy folk were known for twisting words, taking things literally when they were not meant so. “I wish for good health, and comfort for me and my kin, for the rest of their long lives.”

“And.”

She had no other wishes. What else could she need? she shrugged.

“Fools.” The leprechaun glared first at Moire and then at the Duke. “You wish for things you already have, if you wake up to the circumstances. Would’ve been better to wish for a cave of gold, or an ever-filling cauldron of jewels.”

“What — ?” But the leprechaun was already gone. “He escaped.”

The Duke looked at her, wonder in his eyes. “We already have our wishes.” He reached out to hold her hand, his gaze intense. “I have begun to feel things for you that I thought I should not.” He licked his lips. “Could it be that you feel the same?”

Her heart leapt into her throat. “I do.” I whispered.

He scooped her up, and laid a thousand kisses on her face and neck. When he undid the cords of her dress she welcomed it, despite the fact they were not married, her heart soaring as he looked upon her naked form with desire clear in his gaze.

He pleasured her, in ways she’d never thought a body could be pleasured, his head buried between her legs, his tongue lapping at her folds, at a sensitive button that make the rest of her body jolt.

Moire was wet for him, and when he returned to press his lips against hers she spread her legs to welcome his cock, the thick length of it making her groan as he pressed inside.

“You are beautiful,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “A treasure. The very treasure I’ve been looking for all this time.”

He thrust inside her, and she lost control of her body as her hips thrust back and her arms pulled him closer, and fireworks lit up the darkness behind her eyes.

“Marry me,” he whispered. “Have your family live in the castle. You’ll never want for anything again.”

It was more than she’d ever dreamed possible. How could she possibly say no?

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