The Chevalier (12 page)

The next day, her resolution was put to the test. Elizabeth was playing with some children her own age and Madeline, feeling lonely and depressed, decided that a walk was in order. She remembered to do as Anne had told her and braided her hair as well as covering her full breasts with a shawl. But as she left the house, she ran into Gareth who was exercising his horse.

“Careful,” he said. “You don’t want to be trampled.”

“No, indeed I do not,” she agreed, placing her hand over her eyes to block out the sun. “I didn’t see you.”

“Then it’s fortunate I saw you. Night Dancer can be skittish at times.”

He looked quite grand on top of the snorting black stallion. She moved quickly away.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Just for a walk.” She kept her voice cool and impersonal though it was not easy.

“Alone?” he raised an eyebrow as if to disapprove.

“Oh, I’ll be quite all right. I know my way around here by now.” She frowned in an air of dismissal.

She walked by him, not allowing him to speak to her again. Her movements were rapid and she knew that her demeanor had made it clear that she did not want him to follow her. She was certain that she had offended him. It hurt her to treat him that way, but she knew very well that it was necessary.

The following day was no better. She was up and out early in the morning, yet he was already outside the castle, talking with his officers, and at the same time, watching every move she made. Perhaps in her vanity, she only imagined those crystalline eyes following. No, there he was, moving toward her like a graceful, stalking panther. She quickly looked away and hurried along. Fortunately, she was with Elizabeth, so he did not actually stop her. Elizabeth had asked her to go fishing and Madeline agreed. She was not eager at first, but Elizabeth looked so disappointed when Madeline told her cousin that she knew nothing about fishing.

“Oh, you will learn easily,” insisted Elizabeth. “My brothers taught me when I was very little. Mother will not let me go alone but we do sorely need fresh food.”

Madeline could hardly refuse. She carried the fishing equipment while Elizabeth gingerly handled a crossbow.

“What’s that for?” Madeline pointed to the crossbow as they started on the path into the woodlands.

“I might just see if I can get some fresh game, something small but tasty. Happens I can hunt.” Elizabeth gave her an impish grin.

“I suppose your brothers taught you how to use that as well?”

“Happens they did, but I’m good at watching how things are done. So I learned that way too.”

Elizabeth had taken her to a small stream and then started digging around in the ground.

“Whatever are you doing?”

“Why looking for bait for our hooks. You don’t think the fish will bite for no reason, do you?”

“I hadn’t thought about it overmuch.”

Elizabeth gave her an exasperated sigh. “Fine ladies are all well and good at court, but here we need to know how to survive. Come, Maddy, I’ll show you how to dig up worms.”

Madeline involuntarily grimaced. The thought of such an activity disgusted her, but out of loyalty, she knew that she must try. Elizabeth actually found all the worms they would need. She cut one large one in half and placed part on each of their hooks. Madeline felt sick to her stomach. The oat porridge she had eaten for breakfast seemed suddenly very heavy.

“This will do nicely,” Elizabeth said, casting her line.

Madeline tried to follow her example but her line did not go very far. As a result, Elizabeth caught two fish in short order while Madeline caught none.

Her cousin watched her in exasperation. “Honestly, you are much too genteel! Hoist your skirt up and take your shoes off. Then you can go into the water and set your line out past the shallow part of the burn.”

Madeline took the sash from her waist and used it to tie her gown around her rounded hips, leaving her calves exposed. Then she removed her shoes and silk hose.

“All right, what next?”

“Just step into the water and cast your pole.”

Madeline could hear the annoyance in her young cousin’s voice.

“Not like that! You’re tiptoeing in, you ninny.”

Madeline had taken all she was going to from the little tomboy. In a moment, she had dropped the pole on the ground and began splashing Elizabeth in the face.

The younger girl quickly retaliated by barraging Madeline’s face and upper body. Although Elizabeth was much thinner and slighter, they were of a height and well-matched. Finally, Madeline, breathless and soaking wet, called a truce.

Elizabeth began to giggle and point to her. “Oh, Maddy, you don’t look like yourself at all.”

Madeline’s face and hair were wet and the lace at the bodice of her dress was sopping. She removed it, tossing the uncomfortable material on the grass.

Gareth stood off in the woodlands watching the two girls giggle and frolic as sunlight arabesqued on the water. Madeline was always a beautiful sight, but she looked particularly appealing in her disarray, cheeks rosy, eyes shining brightly, her slender, shapely legs exposed to view. A smile appeared on his lips, transforming his normally austere demeanor.

The young girl with Madeline had dropped a fishing pole and was hefting a crossbow she carried off with her into the woods. Gareth needed no further invitation. He walked quickly to where Madeline stood trying to cast a crude fishing pole into the stream.

“That’s not quite the technique, although I much admire the movement.”

The startled girl, turned, flushed a deep crimson, which he found totally becoming, and quickly lowered her eyes.

“I fear you have the advantage of me,” she said shyly.

He laughed, deep and resonant. “Hardly, but I could show you the proper way to use that thing. I take it you would like to catch a trout or two?”

“I would indeed,” she responded eagerly.

“Allow me then.” He came behind her, pressing his chest against her back, getting as close as he could to her, his right hand guiding her own. “It’s in the movement of the wrist actually.” The line went toward the center of the stream.

“It would appear your wrists are considerably stronger than mine.”

He noted that she made the observation flatly as if it were an obvious matter of fact. Most women would have flirted and flattered him about his superior strength but she had not. That interested him; it was not what he would have expected.

He continued to press his body tightly against hers and began to feel the familiar stirring. Perhaps she felt it too because she began to wriggle, which only served to further excite him.

“I don’t believe you have to hold me so closely,” she said with some uneasiness.

“Suppose a fish bites? Don’t you want to know how to bring it in? There’s an art to that as well.”

She tried to catch a sideways glance at him. “All right, we are in need of food. But please allow me to stand free of you.” She moved away from him and he allowed her to do so.

“You are wary of me, are you not?”

She nodded her head gravely, the light eyes darkening like a cloudy sky. “I must be loyal to my family,” she explained.

At that moment, his eyes moved to the neckline of her gown which without its insert of lace barely covered her breasts at all. What he saw quite took his breath away. The lushness of her bounty aroused his lust like no other sight ever had. He had the sudden urge to free those exquisite mounds from all restraint and gaze on them. He quickly looked away, trying not to embarrass her, but she had caught the heated look he had turned on her. Her hands moved as if to cover herself; except she could not do it because of the pole she held.

“Here,” he said, removing his redcoat. “Perhaps you will not hate your enemy so much that you will be affronted by the offer of this.” He held out his coat to her, but when she shook her head, refusing to take it, he let the garment drop on the green grass.

“I have a shawl,” she told him. Handing him the fishing pole, she hurriedly picked up her shawl and pulled it around her.

“I liked your appearance better before,” he teased with wicked intent and was rewarded with another flush of her cheeks.

“Are you much of a fisherman?” Obviously, she wished to change the subject.

“I enjoy good sport.”

“It’s no sport around here,” she explained.

“In that case, I shall be your champion and catch you the largest fish in this stream.”

She laughed at his remark.

He turned and looked down into her beautiful face. “You doubt me, Mademoiselle? Would you care to place a bit of a wager on that?”

“What sort of a wager?” she said cautiously.

“Oh, perhaps a kiss.”

She smiled, as he followed the movement of her pink, lovely lips with his languorous gaze.

“‘Tis an easily won wager. I don’t believe there are many large fish in this small stream. In any case, it would have to be larger than the one my cousin has already caught.”

“I never refuse a good challenge. I’m more than ready. There are those who think I give great satisfaction with my rod.” He gave the tip of her nose a quick kiss.

He then picked up Elizabeth’s fishing pole, found a fresh worm and speared it with the hook, then gave a powerful thrust that landed the line in the center of the stream.

“What do I win if I manage to make the greater catch?” Madeline asked demurely.

“Why I believe, Milady, you’ve already made your catch,” he teased.

She frowned at him. “I think you are mocking me. Perhaps we might wager that if I win, you will leave here and stop looking for my cousin, Andrew?”

He became serious now, gazing into those ethereal irises of hers. “Surely, you jest. You know that I am committed. I must do my duty.”

She sighed deeply. Then he saw it, one solitary tear rolling down her cheek. He made no comment but caressed it with his fingertip. She turned away from him, a confused expression on her face. They continued to fish side by side for at least ten minutes, not saying another word. Eventually, something tugged on his line and he brought in a fair-sized trout. Madeline exclaimed with excitement.

“‘Tis greater than either of Beth’s prizes.”

“Did I not tell you?”

“Mother Superior taught us that arrogance is a sin.”

“In pretty girls, it most certainly is.” Carefully, grounding the fish, he came alongside her and firmly placed her pole down at the edge of the water.

“I believe I’ll take my reward now,” he said.

“I don’t remember promising anything,” she responded in an aloof, prim manner.

This sudden distance of hers puzzled him, but he didn’t mind it, for it was an agreeable game and one he fully intended to enjoy winning.

“As I recall, our little wager was that I would collect a kiss from you should I catch a fish larger than the one already caught. Your memory is quite poor for one so young.” He pulled her into his arms.

“I don’t recall agreeing to your terms, Colonel.” She was being formal with him again, he noted.

“I must insist that you pay your debts, Mademoiselle.” With that, his lips devoured hers in a hungry, urgent manner that she could not deny.

 
Eleven

Madeline was crushed in Gareth Eriksen’s strong arms. His lips pressed fevered kisses on her own, his tongue slipping into her mouth, hotly insinuating; demanding hers. It felt as if her blood were on fire with the want of him. She tried to clear her mind, to tell herself that she must be free of him, but somehow, she could not.

His hands began to glide along her body, touching the fullness of her breasts, making her knees quake. His hands expertly cupped her breasts, then freed them from the confining bodice of her gown. She held her breath as he nuzzled her neck, his lips burning a path to her breasts, and then cried out with pleasure as his tongue teased the hardening pink crest of first one breast and then the other.

“God, you are beautiful,” he said, his voice husky, his eyes scorching her. “Do you have any idea how much I desire you?”

“What’s going on here?” It was Elizabeth’s innocent voice, fearful and demanding that roused Madeline and made her head take back control from her emotions.

Embarrassed to let her young cousin see her this way, Madeline quickly turned to right the bodice of her gown. Gareth blocked any view her cousin might have of her but moved away as soon as she was composed.

“Mademoiselle de Marnay, you will make an excellent fisherman someday,” he said in a formal voice that betrayed no emotion. “I bid you both good day.” With that, Gareth was gone, and Madeline found that she could breathe once more.

“Maddy, what was that horrible mon doing to you? His back was to me but I know he was up to no good.”

“Nothing so bad,” Madeline said, her face flushing.

“He stole a kiss – dinna lie about it; I ken it!”

“You’re so right,” Madeline readily agreed, shamed to her marrow. She was too well aware of what Gareth Eriksen had claimed, for he had conquered her heart, and might well have had her body as well. She was forced to admit to herself that the conquest was all too easily made. It was fortunate that Elizabeth had returned when she did.

Madeline resolved that she must be harder in dealing with the man. She had been warned after all. He might mean a great deal to her, but she most certainly meant nothing more to him than a temporary diversion. She must protect herself and her family from Gareth; further association on her part could only bring them all great suffering. And then there was Andrew to consider. She was betrothed to him – although she had to concede that she could not really think in terms of being married to her cousin. She liked him well enough, but there the feeling ended for her. Perhaps if she had not met Gareth first or if he had not come back into her life… She must be strong; she must tear away any feelings that she might have for him. Madeline promised herself she would not let herself fall into his arms again. If only she could make herself love Andrew as her mother had wished!

♥ ♥ ♥

The following morning, she and Elizabeth went back to the cave with fresh supplies for the men. Beth had managed to shoot some small game, some grouse, and with the trout, they had eaten well the night before and could be generous the following day. Andrew was still feverish and it was clear to see that he was not ready to travel. Not that it was safe for him to travel anyway. Gareth’s soldiers were everywhere, combing the countryside. The English were a persistent lot, just as Andrew had predicted.

In the afternoon, Madeline felt restless. While her cousin napped, she took herself off for a solitary walk. Many things were troubling her and she wanted to be alone to think matters out. She had been walking for well over half an hour when she felt too warm to wear her shawl any longer. Since there was no one around, it hardly mattered. In fact, the day was exceedingly warm for May. She had reached the shore of the loch which was her favorite spot because of the waterfall that cascaded down the rocks. The water was so inviting, and she was so hot and weary. Surely, she could take a swim; after all, there was no one else about to disturb her pleasure.

The water of the loch was a blue green, reflecting both the pristine sky above and the tall trees surrounding it. Madeline stripped down to her chemise and then ran into the water. Small rocks pricked her tender feet and caused her to begin to swim as quickly as possible. She was not the best of swimmers as it was not the vogue among French ladies to take to the waters. In fact, more than a few elegant aristocrats reeked of heavy perfume because they rarely chose to bathe. But Maman, not being French by birth, had demanded cleanliness, unimpressed by the fashion of the times.

Maman had made certain that they took some vacations near the sea and her daughter learned how to swim. Moving vigorously in the cold water of the loch, she was grateful for this. The waterfall looked particularly inviting and Madeline moved swiftly toward it. By the time she touched bottom near the falls, she was breathless but feeling happier and more relaxed then she had in a very long time. Her only thought was that Maman would have enjoyed this and she wished that they could be together enjoying this rare spring day.

A noise from the shore caught her attention and startled her into looking back. There sitting astride his great, black stallion was Gareth Eriksen. He began to wave and call out to her, looking at her as if she were the main course at a banquet. Aware that she was wearing nothing but a thin chemise so soaked against her skin as to be transparent, she started to move quickly back into the water. Her acute embarrassment caused Madeline to lose her footing on the slippery rocks and she went under. Her ankle twisted as she swallowed water.

At first, she thought that she would surely be drowned and began to panic. She struggled to surface and then felt strong hands come around her body.

“Don’t fight me! I’m just trying to help you.”

She allowed him to take hold and tow her to shore. She was coughing when they got to the bank.

“Decided to swallow up half the lake, did you?”

All she could do was shake her head until she cleared her lungs, her breasts heaving as she continued to cough.

He looked at her with concern. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” she managed.

He was looking at her closely, a slow perusal from her face down the entire length of her body. She caught the intent expression and felt her heart begin to lurch, the blood rise to her face. Why did he have this strange effect upon her?

Gareth unbuttoned his wet shirt and removed it, spreading it out in the sun to dry. She stared at his body in wonderment. He was so magnificent; broad, muscular shoulders, a powerful chest with golden hair upon it. Surely, the ancient artists would have chosen him to model for statues of Hercules or Apollo if they could have known him. He observed that she was staring at him and looked amused. Madeline lowered her eyes in embarrassment.

“You’re trembling,” he said. “Strip off those wet garments before you catch your death.” He sensed her reluctance. “I’ll turn away so that you can change.”

“Perhaps you ought to just go,” she said.

“You nearly drowned out there. I won’t leave you alone again.”

“I’m really quite an adequate swimmer. I merely lost my balance for a moment. Thank you for seeing to me, but you can leave now.”

“Actually, I have a confession to make, I followed you out here so we could have a private talk.”

But the way his eyes had darkened and the husky quality of his voice made her wonder if talking were what he really had on his mind. She moved slightly away from him as he moved closer.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I regard an uneasiness on your part, when we last spoke, and now as well. It was not there before. Has your cousin threatened you regarding me?”

“Anne would never threaten me. It’s just that she doesn’t want me speaking to you. I am sorry, Gareth, but like it or not, she is family, and you are the enemy of Highlanders.”

“I don’t consider myself an enemy of the Scots. I’m simply carrying out my duty to my king. There’s no malice involved, I can assure you.”

“But you’ve come for my cousin Andrew! You see that it cannot be as it was, though it pains me greatly.”

“Why does it pain you?” His eyes snared her own.

She wanted to look away but found that she could not and began to tremble even more violently. Suddenly, his arms were around her, holding her tightly. His mouth took hers like a conqueror, possessing her lips with a kiss that was as passionate as it was masterful. She found herself responding with an eagerness she could not prevent. Then the kiss deepened and his tongue was insinuating its way between her slightly parted lips. His tongue found hers and stroked it in a way that thrilled and excited her down to her toes. His hands were moving as his lips trailed hot kisses down her chilled body. All of a sudden the wet chemise was being torn free of her body and then he was against her, easing her back against the grass. His hands touched everywhere, his kisses moving from the hollow of her throat to her neck and then to her breast. One hand stroked her left breast as his lips kissed her right. She let out a deep moan and arched her back as his tongue circled her nipple. There was a fire in her blood, a fire that he had ignited, that destroyed her ability to reason and think. All she could do was feel, feel the pleasure that his touch and kisses were bringing to her.

“You are so very lovely, so sweet,” he said. “I cannot help but want you.”

His mouth suckled at her breast as his hands moved downward, touching the flatness of her stomach and then still further to the curly triangle of hair at her apex. She dug her nails into the sinews of his powerful, broad back; wild with the new and incredible feelings he was causing her to feel. Then his fingers began to gently massage the very special place that no man had ever touched before. She felt a sharp, stab of pleasure at his touch and writhed against him. As her hips moved, he brought his hard lower body against her soft femininity and she startled slightly. This was no game; he was going to take her virginity if she didn’t stop him. And yet, she wanted him to continue, she could hardly bear for him to stop! Whatever it was that he was doing to her, she couldn’t help wanting it.

♥ ♥ ♥

Gareth could tell that she was indeed a very passionate girl, just as he had thought before. He knew how to excite a woman and give her pleasure, being the very experienced lover that he was. With Madeline, because she was such a young girl, he had been careful to keep himself tightly controlled. The self-discipline he’d learned as a soldier, he applied just as successfully to his lovemaking. He was always in control and he wanted it that way. He never gave in to wild, unbridled passion. First, he made certain that the woman he was with had an ample share of pleasure. He saw that the climax was genuine, not faked merely to please him, and then he took his pleasure. He never would have believed that a man of his experience would ever again feel so greatly aroused by any female. Perhaps he was not so jaded as he thought.

Although why he found Madeline so appealing he couldn’t say, for the chit was little more than a child really. Yet he enjoyed her innocence and honesty, tired of the hard, cynical London ladies of the
haute ton
that he usually slept with. Perhaps it was the novelty of this girl, for she truly was different. He saw now that her eyes were glazed with passion and he enjoyed his sense of mastery. He was feeling more aroused then he could ever remember being and breathed deeply to prevent himself from being overcome by his own needs. After all, she was young and possibly a virgin. No matter how eager she might be for him, if it were her first time, it would be difficult. He concentrated on her enjoyment, ignoring his own desperate need. But her young, lush body aroused his lust like no other woman before her. The openness of her response, the lack of any pretense was quite touching. It overwhelmed him.

Her arms were around his neck, accepting, trusting. She was fully within his power to do with as he wished. He rubbed the soft, pink nipples of her breasts ever so slowly with his thumbs, his tongue darted into her mouth to capture hers and stroke it, never breaking the sensual rhythm between them. She moaned deep and low in her throat, her eyes closed. Her skin was silk and fire.

He ignored the painful throbbing in his groin, stroking her body, bringing his hands over her firm belly, kneading it, before moving lower to touch the glorious curls which denoted her womanly attributes. She writhed beneath him, aching for the release that he would provide. His fingers moved to that special place of hers which he craved. She tensed beneath him, but he reassured her by deepening his kiss. His fingers massaged with a special magic, the rhythm of the musician who knows how to play an instrument in perfect key. He stroked her soft woman’s flesh, that tiny nub of sensuality, until she cried out and shuddered against him.

He knew just when she came fully, shattering and fragmenting. He could feel her wracked with spasms of pleasure beneath him, a cry of pleasure, then her damp body went limp and she was breathing heavily. He held her tightly to him and continued to kiss her.

“No more,” she said. “It’s so wonderful, but please, no more!”