The Chevalier (13 page)

“There is more,” he said. “I cannot hold back much longer.”

In his arms, she rested but not for long, for he was determined to arouse her passion once more. When he felt her responding to him his ministrations again, he swiftly unfastened his breeches, freeing himself. He heard her surprised gasp. She was moist and warm and ready for him, but she was still small and tight; he feared that he might hurt her for he knew that he was quite large. She pushed against him as he moved gently to enter her. He felt her nails wrack his back, but he did not mind.

“No, please!” She was clearly frightened.

The surprise to him of her response was such that he allowed her to get away from him. She seemed to panic and ran into the loch, swimming away from him before he could even think what to do.

He realized that she wasn’t going to get very far, not without any clothes. He jumped in after her and with a few strong strokes caught her in the water. They were no deeper than shoulder level when he caught her near the falls and pulled her into his arms again.

“Where do you think you’re off to?”

“I don’t know; it does not matter.” Her breathless voice was tantalizingly soft and sweet.

“You’ll not escape me,” he said. “You’re mine, you know.”

“I don’t know!” Her eyes opened wide with fright as a doe facing a hunter.

“Of course, you do. You gave yourself to me the first time we met. You let me know immediately that you were mine. Well, I’ve finally come to the same conclusion. I want to claim you. You should be happy about it.”

He rubbed his hands along her shoulder, then brought his mouth down on hers to take her lips. She was shaking as she pulled free of him.

He frowned deeply. “You make me crazy with passion for you.” He was near to bursting with need for her. Why was she suddenly so afraid?

“You want me as I want you. You are just frightened of allowing yourself to feel what is perfectly natural between a man and a woman.”

She shook her head. “
Non
, it is not right.”

“I say that it is right.”

“Please, do not try to force me.”

“I would never force a woman.” He stared at her in bewilderment. Women always accepted him eagerly, if anything, he’d been forced to discourage quite a few. He decided then and there that if she were truly earnest in her scruples, he would let her go. He would not ravish an unwilling woman no matter how much he might desire her. Yet there was nothing he would not do to get her to yield to him voluntarily. “Trust me,” he said.

♥ ♥ ♥

He kissed her again with an urgency that made her lose all sense of reason. Madeline’s mind told her body many things, but her body would not seem to listen. She tried turning away from him. Gareth pulled her tightly into his arms and pressed her buttocks hard against his potent aroused flesh. His erection came hot and throbbing against her. She cried out. He turned her around to face him again. His mouth went over hers, drugging her with kisses. Then his lips moved to her breasts and she arched her back as he suckled there, lost in wanton delight.

“Bring your legs around me,” he commanded, and she did so, blindly aching with passion.

His hands slid beneath her hips, bringing her lower body to his, lifting her to him. He held her buttocks firmly, positioning her to where he could enter with ease. Through it all, his mouth never stopped making love to her body. His tongue stroked the soft, rosy peaks of first one breast and then the other as he took her with him in the throbbing heat of his passion. Though the water might have been icy, Madeline did not realize it anymore. She was pulsating with the pleasure, the thrill of intimacy between them. His big, hard body made her feel so small and fragile. She pressed her body against his as he began to move inside her, gently at first, but the momentum built and he thrust deep and deeper, ramming into her softness.

She cried out when he came against the barrier, when she felt him tear it apart. Tears glistened in her eyes. Her muscles tensed and her nails scored deeply into the hardness of his back. He was coming faster now and she was beginning to come with him in spite of her pain, for pain and pleasure intermingled and she could feel herself moving toward a release that would take her far beyond anything she could imagine. Her hips moved with him, his strength and power surging through her body as they were united into one entity. When the release came, it was too much. She moved against him, feeling the tremors, the shattering explosion within her. He’d driven her to such pleasure, even stronger then before. The pain was still there but it seemed not to matter.

He was breathing hard and fast against her, stroking her body as she came out of it. He smiled at her and she knew that he was pleased. She didn’t want to ask him anything or even say anything to him. Somehow that seemed wrong right now; words seemed wrong. They would only break the enchantment. The waterfall cascaded over them like a cleansing baptism.

He carried her out of the water and gently placed her on the ground, pulling his jacket around her again. “You were very good,” he told her.

The words made her wonder, and then she felt sickened. Her spine stiffened. What was he saying? Was he comparing her to all his other conquests?

She didn’t speak but quickly handed him his coat and began to dress. It had been wonderful but wrong. She knew that even as she vowed that it would never happen again.

He was watching her, pensively studying the expression on her face. “I’ll take you back,” he said, his voice suddenly cold and formal, his expression a mask.

She had the feeling that he could read her mind. “I think that would be a mistake. Please go now.”

Those glacial eyes fixed on hers intently. “We’ll see each other later then.”

She stared at him as if he were a total stranger, this man who had just done such incredibly intimate things to her body. Still, she could not help being aware of the magnificence of the man, the broad shoulders, the slim waist and narrow hips, the muscular arms and thighs with pale golden hair everywhere. His powerful, physical aura all but overwhelmed her. She watched him quickly and quietly dress. He stared at her with a thoughtful expression for a moment, as if he wanted to say something but did not dare to speak.

Then he untethered his horse and rode off while Madeline hugged her chilled body with her arms. What had she done? How had she allowed such a thing to happen? Surely, she could have stopped him if she had truly wished to do so! What was wrong with her? What would Maman say if she could know? Madeline cursed herself for a fool even as her skin still tingled from his touch.

 
Twelve

When Madeline returned to the house, she felt stickiness between her legs, and there was still pain. She went quickly to her room. Examining herself, she found that she was bleeding. Seeing the blood made her cry. She sat down on the bed that she shared with Elizabeth and began to weep long and hard. She was ashamed of what she had done, ashamed of the feelings that had caused her to give herself over with such abandon to Gareth Eriksen. If she had resisted more strenuously, she was certain that he would have let her go. He had pressed his suit most urgently, but he was not a rapist. She blamed herself for not being stronger. She had wanted him from the first and had made him want her in return. Yet she knew it was all a terrible mistake. Gareth might now find her desirable, but he did not love her.

Elizabeth came quietly into the room and watched Madeline with concern.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, staring at the bloody chemise Madeline clutched in her hand.

Madeline shook her head.

“Sick then?”

“Not that either.”

“But something is very wrong. You must tell me!”

“No,” Madeline said, feeling profound shame.

Elizabeth’s leaf green eyes were open wide. “One of the soldiers? It was one of those vermin, wasn’t it?” Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “It was the tall, Englishman, wasn’t it? I saw the look he gave ye. He hurt you!”

Madeline averted her gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it. Please, don’t tell anyone. I’ll be more wary in the future.”

“You should tell my mother. She would know what to do.”

Madeline shook her head vehemently. “I don’t want anyone else to know. Promise not to tell, on your honor.”

“All right.” Elizabeth sat beside her on the bed. “Did you go swimming?” she asked, touching her still damp hair.

Madeline merely nodded her head.

“Next time, you take me with you. Don’t go alone.”

Madeline quickly agreed. Then she lay down and rested for a time, suddenly profoundly tired. Elizabeth left her and Madeline fell into a sleep of exhaustion.

♥ ♥ ♥

Madeline stayed in her room most of the next day. Everyone thought she was feeling ill, and in a sense she was. She took the bloody chemise of fine silk edged with French lace, and thought to destroy it, but instead threw it into a corner of her wardrobe. It would serve as a symbol, a reminder to her. Maman had been right; she was much too romantic, not nearly as sensible as she should be. Hitting her fist against the wall, Madeline wondered how she could be so impetuous and unthinking. She did not want to face her cousins or even the servants. She refused to eat and spent most of the day brooding in silent reflection.

The day was warm and the bedroom she shared with Elizabeth retained the heat of the day. Madeline was too uncomfortable and restless to sleep that evening. Hours after Elizabeth was fast asleep, she tossed and turned. Finally, she got out of bed and wrapped herself tightly in her woolen shawl. She did not want to disturb the family but felt that she must take a walk. Feeling closed in, she ventured outside the manor. It was a beautiful moonlit night and she walked into the wild, unkempt garden for a stroll. She felt more at peace in the night air. She could breathe deeply and draw her confused thoughts together.

♥ ♥ ♥

Gareth had spent most of the day thinking about the extraordinary black-haired girl he made love to the afternoon before. She excited him more than any other female he had ever been with. He did not like that at all; in fact, it made him feel quite uneasy. He sensed that if he were not careful, she might cause him to lose control, to make some colossal blunder like he had before. Why should a mere slip of a girl affect him that way? She was hardly more than a child in age. Yet she was most certainly a provocative woman. He felt himself become aroused just thinking of her, of the small slender body with the high, full breasts, the glossy, thick black hair and the eyes that were moonbeams one moment and wild, pale ponies the next.

He could not sleep that night for want of her body. He walked around moldering MacCarnan castle thinking of little else but his obsession with the girl.

He hated being trapped in this stark, gray stone castle with its crumbling walls; hated the poverty he saw in the Highlands. He wished to return to England now that the fighting was done. He wanted to take Madeline with him. But how could he? Her relatives hated all Englishman and him in particular. They would hate him even more when he found Andrew MacCarnan, put him in chains, and then escorted him off to be tried for treason. There was only one possible outcome for MacCarnan after that, he thought grimly. No, these people were not likely to forgive him. It was an ugly thing occupying an enemy country where the people wished you dead and treated you with defiance, animosity or fear.

Gareth walked down into the entrance hall of the old castle, noting the cavernous stone hearth, the worn tapestries that hung on the walls, the suits of armor tarnished and ancient which stood proudly fixed in splendid disrepair. He wondered if his father’s castle was much like this one but immediately realized that it could not be. He had never visited the Duke nor did he ever intend to do so. Yet he knew his father must live magnificently as befitted an auspicious peer of the realm.

Outside in the chilling mountain air, he felt much more at home. He always preferred the outdoors, even at night. He was thinking again of Madeline when he saw a girl in a white gown and shawl standing in the ruined moonlit garden of the manor, her shiny black hair cascading down her back. He had been hoping to see her all day and now at last she was in his sight.

He came to her quietly almost stealthily since he did not want anyone from the manor to know that he was approaching her as if this meeting were some clandestine plan. Madeline turned and almost cried out when she saw him, but he caught her into his arms and kissed her passionately, which effectively silenced her. He tried to be tender, but there was something wildly primitive, darker than the night, stirring within his breast. His kiss deepened, taking possession of her, his tongue demanding hers, mating with its essence. She tasted sweet like a sugar confection.

Madeline sighed deeply, trying not to let herself succumb to his passion. Yet his kisses swept her away, drowning her in the wild current that existed between them. His possession of her was something she seemed unable to fight. He was holding her in his arms, pressing her backward, his kisses intoxicating her in a way that wine never had. She felt weak, almost dizzy. He lifted her into his arms and carried her easily to a secluded spot in the old garden. In a moment they were together on the grass, his lips caressing her throat, his fingers teasing the nipples of her breasts until they were rigid and swelling with desire. Her fingertips traced the rippling muscles of his back as his hands ran down her body and lifted the hem of her nightgown. His hands sent ripples of heat through her woman’s flesh as they moved along her thighs, kneading, caressing, his fingers touching her most private recesses, plumbing her sleek warm depths.

It took all her strength but she fought against him, pulling her lips free of his. “No!” she cried out. “We must not, this is wrong. This is madness!”

“I’ve thought of nothing but you all day.” It was true, he realized, he could scarcely attend to his duties. He’d had her yesterday and that should have been the end of it. But it was not. Instead, the hunger for her had grown even stronger, the desire more intense.

♥ ♥ ♥

His mouth came down on hers, silencing her protests. His body dominated hers, his leg pressing downward over her thighs, pinioning and then thrusting between them. Now it was no longer his fingers that she felt as he penetrated the delicate softness of her. He was gentle with her at first, moving slowly, yet the thrusts became ever stronger. She could no longer fight him. Rivulets of pleasure were sweeping over her in waves. She began to move with him, raising her writhing hips against his thrusts, and as the tension between them built, she felt the most incredible excitement. Ripples of sweet sensation feathered her taut belly. When she thought she could stand no more of it, Madeline was swept away, spiraling into spasm after spasm of pure pleasure. He plunged deeper and moaned as she suddenly went limp. Then he seemed to collapse beside her. His breath was ragged but he still held her tightly and she could feel his heart pounding as he pressed his body firmly against her again.

Quickly she brought her gown down below her knees.

“I promised myself that would never happen again,” she said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He looked into her silvery eyes and thought she meant what she said.

“You want me just as I want you,” he told her. “We have a need for each other. Desire is a most powerful force.”

“But it shouldn’t be! I was to save myself for my husband. That is what Maman expected. What have I done? What sort of wanton have I become?”

She moved away from him and although he tried to bring her back into his arms, she ran away. He thought that she might be crying, but she was gone before he could say another word to her. Perhaps tomorrow they would talk and he would try to reassure her. What did he feel for her? Was it only lust? No, he could not help feeling that it was something more. And yet long ago he had come to the conclusion that love was an illusion; that nothing could exist between a man and a woman but physical desire.

She had talked about marriage, but that was not something he would ever consider. He had no need of a wife to complicate his life. Let men with titles who needed heirs marry. That was certainly not for him. Nor had he ever wished to have a permanent mistress. He was a man who disliked emotional ties and commitments of any kind; he knew very well that they only brought pain and suffering. No, he would not marry her or even offer her declarations of undying devotion. Whatever his faults, he was not a man who lied to women. Perhaps females enjoyed flattery and charming endearments that meant little but that would never be his way. Yet what would he do about Madeline de Marnay? He had no idea.

♥ ♥ ♥

The next day, Madeline and Elizabeth again took a basket of provisions to the cave where Andrew and his clansmen were hiding. As before, it seemed as if the English soldiers ignored them, and Madeline breathed a sigh of relief. She especially did not want to be noticed by Gareth.

Still, they took precautions, stopping often and listening carefully. She herself was not very alert; her mind was too disturbed and she had not slept at all the night before. Physical and emotional exhaustion dulled the sharpness of her senses. But Elizabeth’s attention was keen enough. When they arrived at the cave, all seemed as before except they found Andrew asleep and looking pale.

“How is he?” she asked, turning to Fergus.

The giant shrugged. “He’s still running a fever, but that’s to be expected with such deep wounds. A few more days and he’ll be on the mend. Then we’ll head further north and hide where the
Sassenach
will ne’er find us.”

“Perhaps he’ll wake soon and we can feed him some broth,” Madeline said, kneeling beside her cousin.

Andrew’s eyes opened then and he looked up into her face and smiled. “Such beauty!” he exclaimed. “How I wish I could make you my bride this very moment. Waking to see your face is like looking at heaven.”

He raised himself weakly on an elbow and tried to kiss her lips, but she turned her face.

“Behave yourself,” she said. “We all want you to get strong again.”

“Your kiss will give me encouragement in that,” he replied.

Madeline did not deny him his kiss. How could she? Yet she felt dishonest kissing Andrew chastely after engaging in wild passionate lovemaking with Gareth Eriksen.

At that moment, there was a commotion and two clansmen pushed a man into the cave toward her and Andrew. She started and jumped away in shock. The man in front of them was Gareth. He looked as if he’d been in a great fight, beaten and bloodied around the face. His clothing was torn as well. She gasped as their eyes met, and he in turn stared at her angrily, a strange feral light in his eyes. She realized then that he had seen her kissing Andrew. He was jealous, she thought. But
Ciel
, what was he doing here?

♥ ♥ ♥

Gareth could not believe his own stupidity. A well-trained English officer such as himself foolishly following after two girls without telling anyone where he was going or why! He had allowed himself to feel something for the girl and that had been his undoing. Emotions were always troublesome for a man. He thought he had managed to successfully cut himself off from feeling anything, but this girl had been so deceptively sweet and innocent. He should have known better.

His disillusionment with the chit had begun early that morning when Lieutenant Wooding returned with his group. They were worn out from chasing after the Young Pretender. Wooding reported to him directly, his face reddened from the heat of the sun.

“What have you found out, Lieutenant?”