by Fiona Faris
“Perhaps our Maddie will fall in love with someone else entirely.” Fyn looked away from the noble family and gazed down at the young woman at his side. “Ye have more than one option here, of that I’m certain.”
Madeleine half-smiled. “I dae have more than one option, and the one I’m keenly interested in exercising involves me going back to Scotland alone without a husband.” Her friends all shared silent glances, each one thinking their own thoughts about what Madeleine had said.
* * *
Jacques sat back in his chair with a drink in his hand as he gazed at Lady Marguerite, standing a short distance away, giving him bedroom eyes and coy smiles. “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping alone tonight, cousin.” He remarked with an anticipatory grin.
Fyn sat silently beside him, and after a few moments, Jacques turned and looked fully at him. “Where are you, man?”
Fyn blinked and turned his head to look at his French cousin. “I’m sorry, I didn’a hear ye. What was that?”
“Where were you just now?” Jacques asked with an intrigued look.
With a sigh, Fyn reached for his goblet of wine and sat back, his brow furrowed slightly. “I was thinking about… someone.”
“And would this someone happen to be a dark-haired beauty from your homeland? A bonnie Scottish lass with green eyes and a fierce heart?” Jacques’ eyes twinkled merrily.
“Aye.” Fyn nodded, staring down into his wine.
“And what are you thinking of in regard to her? Would you like to bed her or wed her?” Jacques asked nonchalantly.
Fyn frowned. “I dinna ken her well enough to say that I would wed her, but she does have a way of lodging herself into one’s thoughts. I cann’a get her out o’ my mind. She’s so… bonnie and sweet, and there’s a fire in her.”
“Watch out, cousin. Those are the ones that catch you and keep your heart,” Jacques warned.
Fyn looked from Jacques to his quarry of the evening, the Lady Marguerite. “And isn’t that lovely lady one of the same?”
Jacques shook his head. “No, cousin. I would never get close enough to a girl like that to be caught in her web of love. I prefer ladies who enjoy the temporary pleasures of a heated tryst, and nothing beyond it.”
“And ye believe Lady Marguerite is such a woman?” Fyn looked doubtfully at Jacques.
“Oh, I know she is. She has her sights set on someone with a much loftier title and position at court than myself, but she is certainly inclined to enjoy evenings of passion in the meantime, and tonight she will share my bed, but no more than that.”
Fyn smiled and shook his head, taking another long pull of wine from his goblet. “I’d rather have a lass whose heart I could capture.”
“Like the lady you were with most of the evening?” Jacques smiled at the romantic nature of his cousin.
“Aye. Exactly like her. In fact, I intend to pursue her, to see if she might be interested in me, but I have already set myself on a poor path with her.” He finished his wine and set his goblet heavily on the table before him.
“And how have you done that, cousin?” Jacques asked curiously, eyeing Fyn.
“I didn’a tell her who I am.” When I learned who she was, I knew if I wanted to get close to her, I couldn’a tell her who I really was.”
Jacques studied him closely. “And what will you do when she discovers the truth? You cannot keep it from her, unless you only want her for a night. Anything longer than that, and you’re going to have to tell her, or she’ll find out. Women always find out the truth, one way or another. There’s no way to keep anything truly secret from them. That’s been a painful lesson to learn. Honesty is best.”
Fyn shook his head. “I cann’a be honest with her yet. I want her to get to know me first. Perhaps she will learn to like me, to trust me, and then I can tell her who I am. Perhaps then she will no’ hold it against me, and she will stay.”
“You want her to stay?” Jacques asked seriously, his tone cautious.
Fyn bit at his lip a moment and then nodded. “I do. I cann’a get her out of my head.”
Jacques watched him and exhaled thickly, finishing off his wine. “You’d better focus on any other woman here if you don’t want to be hooked, because you’ve already been bitten, and unless you let go now, she’s going to have your heart before you know what’s happening.”
Fyn smiled lightly and shrugged. “I dinna think I would mind if she did. She’s a bonnie, winning lass. A right winning lass.”
Jacques gave his cousin a sorry look and rose to his feet. “I’m afraid it’s too late for you, cousin. I shall take my leave of you before you infect me with your cupid’s arrow poison. I part with these words of warning, before I go to my lady of the evening. Be very careful, Fyn. A woman with fire in her soul, like Madeleine has, can be passionate but also stubborn and unforgiving. Have a care with your heart and tread mindfully with her. If you make a mistake with her, such as the lie she already believes about you, you may pay for it with a steep and painful price.”
Fyn gave his head a shake. “That’s a chance I’m going to have to take. She’s worth the risk. Perhaps she will want me enough that the truth willn’a matter.”
“That’s a hell of a gamble with your heart.” Jacques said as he walked away, his attentions focused on Lady Marguerite. “I wish you luck, cousin.”
Fyn nodded and smiled, hoping that luck, good luck, would be all his.
Chapter Five
Madeleine’s chamber maid helped her into her nightgown, and she smiled when her aunt came in to bid her goodnight. Margaret smiled and kissed her cheek, then took her hand to hold it tenderly.
“Did you have fun tonight, my dear?” She asked hopefully.
“I did, thank ye.” Madeleine had found friends, as well as possible suitors. It had been a very fun evening for her; much moreso than she had imagined it might be.
“That’s good. James II of Crussol is quite keen on you. He will be calling on you, and you should make every effort to do all that you can to turn his head and win his interest. You will likely not find a better match than him at court, or anywhere else for that matter. I’m quite impressed with you. It took only one party, and you’ve managed to turn the head of the most eligible and sought-after young bachelor at court. Many young ladies have tried what you did tonight and failed. He would be a fine husband for you, and you’d be lucky to get him.” Margaret beamed at her niece. “One night. I’m so proud of you.”
Madeleine gave her a smile and a nod. “I’ll dae my best.”
“Good girl. Sleep well.” Margaret kissed her once more and left her.
Madeleine leaned over to blow her candle out, but hesitated, and then pushed the bedding back. With silent feet she carried her candle to a small desk in the corner and retrieved a paper and a quill. The quiet scratch of the quill against the page was the only sound in the room as Madeleine poured her thoughts out onto the paper before her.
My Dearest Fiona,
Our aunt took me to party at the castle of the King of France tonight. It was beyond imagination. You would have loved the ladies in all their beautiful gowns, and the music which was played out across a lake. There were firelights and flowers everywhere, wine flowing, and more food than everyone could eat. It would have been your dream come true.
Aunt Margaret took me there to find a suitable husband. I am not engaged, but I did meet two nice men. One is a well born Frenchman; a Baron. The other is a Scottish lad who is here visiting his cousin. He’s a Stewart. I like them both, but I like the Scot best of all.
Perhaps I won’t find a husband, and I can come home to you, and things can remain as they have been. That is my fondest wish, for I love no one better than you and our family there. I’m missing you more than you can imagine, and I wish that you were here with me. This is your world, much more than it is mine, and you would love it. I hope to see you soon.
All my love,
Maddie
Madeleine folded the letter and seal
ed it, smiling to herself and missing home just a little less. With a soft sigh, she returned to bed and blew her candle out, letting her mind return to the events of the evening and all the fun she had had. She thought a short while on James, and how it might be to be the wife of such a sought-after man, but then her mind turned to Fyn, and she felt butterflies begin to dance in her as a smile formed over her lips. She drifted to sleep with visions of dancing in his arms.
* * *
At that very moment, James entered his bedchamber, his head swimming a little from all the wine he’d had at the party. He pulled his clothes off and laid back on his bed, closing his eyes with a sigh. He jerked up suddenly at the feel of a soft hand on his leg, and gaped in surprise at the young woman standing nude beside his bed.
“Francie! What are you doing in here?” he demanded in frustration.
She shook her head slowly, speaking in a soothing, sensual voice as she climbed up onto his bed and ran her hands over his body, reaching for his member and stroking it gently as he grew hard in the firm grip of her hand.
“Shh…” She hushed him, touching her free hand to his lips for a moment as he stared at her.
“I had to come to you tonight… to show you again how much I love you… how much you mean to me! You know I love being with you!” She smiled at him sweetly and leaned forward, kissing him for a long moment as he hardened fully beneath her tight fingers.
James pulled his mouth away from hers and shook his head, frowning slightly. “You can’t be here! You can’t keep coming in here like this! I don’t want you, Francie! I’m not going to marry you! You should give yourself and your love to some other man!”
Francie could not be swayed as she trailed her lips down his chest, and then nestled herself between his legs. “You might not want me yet, but you will. You won’t be able to keep telling me no. Someday you’re going to want me, and when you do, I will be right there waiting for you.”
She ran her tongue up the pulsing length of him, and he groaned with pleasure as his head lolled backward for a moment. “Francie…” he moaned as she closed her mouth around him and began to suck hard as she massaged her fingers at the base of him.
“You cannot do this again!” He wanted to sound like he meant it, and somewhere deep inside him, he did mean it, but he forgot exactly why he meant it as she moved her mouth over him again and again. He reached his hands down and twisted his fingers in her hair, thrusting himself further into her throat, his moans growing louder and deeper.
His intoxicated mind rolled unbound without focus, until it stopped suddenly on a face with green eyes and full red lips, paired with a gorgeous body, subtly hidden beneath a gown he had wanted to pull off of her almost at first sight.
“Madeleine,” he mumbled.
Francie lifted her mouth from him and stared with panic in her wide eyes. She moved swiftly upward and spread her thighs over him, sinking down on him until he was immersed within her, and she began to rock her hips over his. He cried out and opened his eyes slightly, reaching for her, closing his fingers tightly on her breasts and then her hips as he gripped her and moved hard against her. She smiled. “That’s it my love… you are mine, only mine.”
He dug his fingers into the flesh at her hips and closed his eyes, seeing the stunning Scottish beauty in his mind. “Madeleine,” he mumbled as he ground himself into the depths of the young woman on top him.
“Francie!” she told him as she clutched at him. “Say my name! Want me! I am yours!” she cried out angrily, but he closed his eyes and pushed his head back into the pillow as thoughts of another woman tormented and aroused him.
His hands and fingers grew tighter on the woman riding him. His mind flashed through a fantasy of taking Madeleine’s dress off, seeing her beautiful body, and doing countless things to her. “Madeleine!” He gasped again as he came, quivering with a widening smile over his lips while Francie glared at him and laid herself on his chest, kissing all of him that she could reach as he turned his face away from her.
* * *
Madeleine was deep in a dream when a sharp knock at the door made her gasp as her eyes flew open. She looked around the room, forgetting for a moment where she was, until it all returned to her, and she pushed herself up on one shoulder and squinted in the bright morning light.
The silence and serene stillness of the room was irreverently disturbed when the chamber door swung open, and her aunt Margaret came sweeping in, skirts rustling, pale cheeks pink and flushed with excitement.
“Come on, darling, up, up, up! Your suitor will be here soon, and you have so much to do to prepare for him! You need a hot bath, and your hair must be done beautifully… oh, and I will choose your dress for you, and I’ll lend you some of my jewels. You must look radiant today, my dear girl! He is coming to see you, and you must look your best for him!” Margaret went to the wardrobe while Madeleine closed her eyes and nestled back down into the warm, soft bedding, burying herself in it, wishing that she could hide from the world, her aunt, and most especially, from James.
She closed her eyes and pretended she could sleep in peace for as long as she wanted to, but it wasn’t more than two minutes when her aunt came to the bedside and flung the covers back.
“Now, now. None of that. Up you come. Quickly!” Margaret was too excited to be annoyed with Madeleine for trying to sleep in, but she wasn’t going to let her do it. Madeleine groaned and let Margaret pull her from the bed and strip her down as she tugged her toward the tub of hot water waiting for her.
Madeleine’s resistance washed away in the warm water. She let the ladies’ maid scrub away at her back and arms while her aunt washed her hair. After an extremely light breakfast, she was trussed up in one of the most lavish and lovely dresses that her aunt had had designed for her. It flattered her curvaceous figure, offering a tempting view of her décolletage while the greens and golds in it brought out her eyes, and the subtle hues blended in with her dark curls.
When she had been pampered and pressed, pushed, pulled, and squeezed, made up and bejeweled, her aunt stood beside her, gazing into the full-length mirror leaning against one of the walls in her chamber, and finally nodded with approval.
“You’re ready.” Margaret beamed at the result of all the work that she and her maids had put into making Madeleine look her very best. “He’ll be swooning for you in no time.”
Madeleine stared once again at the unfamiliar reflection in the glass and felt more lost than ever, seeing a woman looking back at her whom she did not know at all. It was as if the more she was changed on the outside, the less of her there was on the inside, and it troubled her. She knew she should be grateful for her aunt’s help, and that she should be excited and looking forward to the prospect of marrying such an ideal man, but she couldn’t help thinking that everything she was experiencing would be so much better suited to her younger sister, Fiona, than to herself. It wasn’t her at all, and she felt almost as if she was betraying herself, but she realized and understood that it was the cost of appeasing her mother and doing as she had been bidden.
Margaret escorted Madeleine out to the garden. “I want you to stay out here. Sit on one of the benches if you like, or stroll on the paths, but a woman rarely looks as beautiful anywhere else as she does in a blooming garden. It gives men all kinds of romantic ideas. I’ll send him out to find you here when he arrives. Smell the flowers and enjoy the morning breeze. He’ll be here soon.”
Margaret left her, and Madeleine sighed in resignation as she obeyed the older woman. It wasn’t that she didn’t love nature, she was most often out on her stallion in the Scottish highlands, riding through sun and rain, in the brightness of day or, at night, under the glow of a full moon. It was just that she was so completely altered on the outside, doing what she was told to do in order to achieve a goal she hoped to avoid.
She was a young woman who nearly always did what she wanted, short of directly defying her parents and, in particular, her father. She loved him so that s
he would do anything he bid of her, and he, knowing the depth of her devotion and dedication to him, didn’t ask her to do anything far beyond her scope of happiness. With her mother, however, it was a different story. With her mother, she tended to push the boundaries or ignore them altogether. It was because of her mother’s wishes for her future that she was at her aunt’s house, and in truth, she had only gone because her father had supported her mother, saying to Madeleine that it was perhaps the best thing for her, though she wasn’t sure that she believed it, or that he believed it either.
So, it was for her father’s sake and the honor of their clan that she bit her tongue and held back her wild heart and inclinations. She subdued herself to the burden of being courted by a man she would never have looked at with romantic intentions. She knew that she should consider herself lucky; that most of the other young women at court were hoping to catch his eye, but she found it hard to feel advantaged when she would so much rather have been galloping through the highland woods on her horse than strolling through a French garden in a silken embroidered gown with her hair pinned and twisted up onto her head.
