Laurent smiled, "You will guard her with your life, and I love you like a brother. What else could I wish? You two will suit, trust me on this."
Laurent walked to the window then completely changed the subject, "I liked America, didn’t you? Our way of life here has died. Freedom, Oui, I believe in freedom."
Jamie laughed, "And what of Nicolette’s betrothal, Laurent? She has no liberty to choose."
Laurent turned, with an incredulous look on his face, "But this situation is completely different, and you don’t know Nicolette! I will never be able to force her to marry you. You must win her heart."
"And you think a barbarian can do that?"
"I have complete faith in you. I had never known a Highlander, but you won my friendship in a moment, even when I was warned that Highlander’s were nothing but savages. Besides, we are connected to Scotland in a surprising way."
"Aye, but a friendship with you is much different than what we have planned for Nicolette. I want her to accept my offer, not be forced into marriage."
"Trust me, she will fall in love with you. It is only a matter of time," Laurent smiled. "I have seen your charm."
Jamie shook his head, "And you have never acknowledged my imperfections."
Laurent laughed, "Flaws?"
"The perfect friend," Jamie smiled. "I believe our meeting must have been destiny. We’ve shared much and now look where our friendship leads us."
Five
The room came alive as Nicolette entered, and Jamie forgot to breathe as he watched her. This evening she dressed in gold watered silk. The white lace at the top of her bodice emphasized her full curves, while the skirt scalloped away from her tiny waist in tiers of lace sparkling with gold beads. Contrary to fashion she wore no hip cage, only several petticoats that gave a gentle, more feminine fullness.
Her hair glowed like living flames in the candlelight. She wore it simply, flowing down her back in curls and tied with golden ribbons. Showers of tiny, sparkling diamonds graced her ears, and Jamie found it impossible to miss the slim ivory column of her neck. A golden locket, the one she had worn as a child, fell between her lush, full breasts.
"She is quite lovely, is she not?" Laurent spoke very quietly, smiling as he noted Jamie’s reaction.
Jamie replied, "As beautiful as a Goddess. I admit had I seen her first, I would have begged for her hand, leaving my debt of honor unsettled."
Laurent hit him roughly on the back, the brown liquid from his goblet spilling on the red Aubusson carpet, "Well said, my friend! I know now I have made the right decision. I love my sister and I needed to know you would cherish her. Thank you!"
"You have done me the greatest honor of all, Laurent. First with your friendship and now you ask I marry your sister. It is I who must thank you."
"Only yesterday you were angry with me, and now you sound like a schoolboy! What happened between you two this morning?" he laughed delightedly, as Nicolette turned a dull shade of red. "Perhaps it is good that you are betrothed," he lifted his glass to Jamie in a salute, suddenly very pleased with himself.
Dinner proved to be delicious and the company vastly amusing. Laurent found himself completely excluded from a conversation that seemed innocent enough, yet each word appeared to have an underlying meaning, as if it alluded to something entirely different. Laurent looked between them. He could almost feel the attraction, and he nearly laughed again. They could not possibly be lovers there had not been time, yet there was something. Nicolette rarely took her eyes from Jamie, and he wondered if she realized her attraction.
Later, when they moved to the music room, Jamie joined him as he stood before a family portrait. He was a young man then and Nicolette a young child.
"I told you she was the image of our mother. Is she not?"
Jamie’s eyes widened, "Indeed! Though, your mother seems quite serene. Obviously, Nicolette did not inherit her temperament."
Laurent burst out laughing, "My friend, you have no idea how true!"
Floor to ceiling gilt mirrors surrounded the bright, watered blue silk walls and paintings of lovely ladies dressed in styles from ages past, graced the space between each mirror. The exquisite pattern continued around the entire room.
Jamie stopped in front of another portrait. "This could be the same woman!" he looked toward Nicolette. "Yet, she wears the MacDonald tartan, " the question plainly visible in his eyes.
"Remember earlier, when I alluded that we were connected to Scotland in a surprising way? Well, now you know what I meant. My grandmother, our mother’s mother, Fiona MacDonald, came to the court with James Stuart after Culluden. My grandfather saw her in the gardens of Versailles and fell instantly in love."
Jamie smiled, "Tell me, did she have the beautiful voice of a siren?"
Confused, Laurent shook his head, "Siren? No, but let me show you this one."
They walked a few feet to a portrait of a lovely woman. Her hair was as black as a raven’s wing, flowing about her in curls, and her eyes were a deep rich blue.
"This was my father’s mother, and she had an exquisite voice. Our northern estate once belonged to her family. There is a lovely lake where we used to picnic, it was there she used to sing to me as a child."
"You have her coloring and Nicolette has the red-gold hair of Fiona MacDonald."
"Indeed," Laurent walked around the perimeter of the room, giving Jamie a brief family history of each portrait, and explaining the priceless collection of porcelain, each piece with some small story from the de Noilles family. Sitting before the rose marble fireplace, were two matching silk chairs, other seating groups were scattered though out the huge room. A plush Aubussan carpet covered the intricate parquet floors.
"This appears a feminine room until you look above," Laurent smiled.
Jamie seemed enchanted with the ceiling, "Ah, beautiful maidens dressed in...wispy, translucent gowns, who are undoubtedly sirens, and I think I recognize that lake."
"It is quite a scene, my grandfather favored it. I have always wanted to join them. Tell me, why do you believe them sirens?" Laurent received no reply but noticed that his sister had turned a bright shade of pink, "Nicolette, Jamie is enchanted with the fresco. Have you told him any of your marvelous stories? She tells the most delightful tales of those water nymphs! You should ask her to recount one."
Jamie smiled lazily, "Nicolette’s quite good with stories. She taught me of Joan of Arc the first day I was here."
Nicolette blushed, "Monsieur, perhaps you would rather listen to music? Shall I play?"
Fascinated with the new instrument, Jamie ran his finger across the polished wood.
Laurent stood behind him, "It is not a harpsichord, but a pianoforte. I ordered it from Vienna. It has been the rage in Paris since Mozart played there several years ago."
Laurent encouraged her to play an aria, and soon the beautiful music of Mozart filled the room. "Nicolette’s voice is exceptional. Of course, I am prejudiced."
Jamie smiled, "She has a voice from which legends arise."
"Legends?" Even Laurent was surprised with such praise.
Jamie did not reply but his laugher filled the room. Nicolette missed a few notes and that made him laugh again.
Laurent took a seat by the fireplace, "Chere, I have never known you to make a mistake on this piece."
"Forgive me, it has been some time since I have played for anyone."
Jamie replied, "She sings the siren song, leading men to their destruction, as they surrender to the beautiful, haunting verse."
"Any man is a fool to let a simple song bring him to disaster."
Jamie stood behind her, "Perhaps. Yet, the bliss of hearing such a beautiful voice and the rapture he experiences watching the Goddess of the Dawn rise from the deep blue water, is worth the pain when he is dashed on the rocks in his quest."
Laurent looked from Nicolette to Jamie then back again. Their attraction was undeniable, a spark, almost as if charged by lightning.
"I
know nothing of a siren song. I only see a sweet, innocent maiden singing for her brother," he watched them for several minutes more then congratulated himself again on his matchmaking. Jamie’s gaze never left his sister, and the slight flush never left her face.
Laurent yawned, "I have had a very exhausting day. I fear I must retire."
Surprise registered on Nicolette’s face, as she quickly rose. "I must go as well..."
Laurent continued before she could finish. "No, Chere. I do not wish to ruin Jamie’s evening. Stay with our guest."
"No!"
"I insist, Nicolette," his undeniable command rang out.
She sat down, gave her brother a furious look as he walked to the door then began to pound wildly on the keys.
"Good night, my friend." Laurent closed the door and leaned back against it, "And good luck."
Jamie removed his coat, waistcoat, cravat, then loosened his silk shirt. He walked to the piano and stood behind Nicolette, leaning over her slender shoulder. One finger played with a curl, tickling the nape of her neck. He smiled as he watched her shiver, then kissed the ivory column of her neck, and whispered in her ear. He felt another shudder racing through her body.
"Sweet beautiful siren. Your voice is rich and full of mystery. You called to me and I came, just as you do now."
Jamie gently caressed her bare shoulders. The long fingers spread widely apart, sweeping downward to stroke the swell of her breasts above her bodice, in a daringly sinful touch.
Nicolette gasped, and he moved away to the sideboard settling a brandy and two tiny goblets onto a tray. He left them on a table near an overstuffed chair facing the fireplace.
Leisurely, he walked around the room extinguishing candles, until the only light remaining was the glowing embers of the fire, then he returned to stand behind her.
"Tell me, are you still afraid to be alone with me?" She jumped and Jamie smiled. His hand moved to her bare shoulder. His finger trailed slowly down, moving across the top of her bodice then upward to her neck, across her cheek to trace her bottom lip and back again. His hand moved slowly to the hollow of her throat, then flared wide once more to caress the uppermost swell of her full breast, and moved languidly, once more tracing the last seductive path to her lips.
"Please. Why must I always beg you to stop?" Nicolette felt an uncontrollable shiver of pleasure ripple through her body and realized her words were frivolous.
She grasped his hand, "You must refrain from touching me. Stop at once!" Suddenly, she remembered how he had responded to being commanded and she shuddered then took a different approach. Her voice became calm and melodic, "If you will only sit by the fire I will play something relaxing. Please." Secretly she admitted her fear at being alone with him. Her feelings when he touched her were far too confusing and her responses too alarming.
Jamie laughed, "I would love to do as you ask, my lady, but I need a Goddess there with me." He kissed her fingertips then scooped her into his arms and carried her to the chair.
"What do you think you are doing?"
Jamie smiled, "Tonight, lass, I need your company and I’ll not let you go. Your struggles will go unheeded if I decide it so. It is time for you to get to know me better. I cannot think of a more cozy place than here and now." He returned to his chair, and sat silently for a long time, gazing into the embers of the fire.
"I am no longer a child," she pushed against him, holding herself as far away as she could, but he pulled her near until she was firmly against him.
"Aye, and well I know it!" Jamie allowed her time to adjust to the intimacy then shifted his legs to toss her against his chest. When she tried to rise he pulled her back, "You are far to well rounded." He laughed.
"Please, let me go."
"No."
Jamie responded no further. Finally, she tired of the struggle and relaxed against him with a deep sigh.
He poured two goblets of brandy from the tray and gave her one. Each took a sip, and they sat in silence for some time, lulled by the flickering flames and the warmth of the brandy flowing through their bodies.
Jamie whispered, "I love the feel of you in my arms, it is as if you have always belonged there." He kissed her on the forehead.
Nicolette pushed against his chest again, but he tightened his hold. Jamie was silent, absorbed in his own thoughts, and Nicolette studied him quietly. His masculine beauty fascinated her. Her gaze moved from his eyes to his lips. She could feel his strength and longed to touch the bulging muscles of his chest. Close enough to see the evening shadow of his beard, she longed to run her fingertip along the rough stubble, but would not allow the daring action. She found even his voice sensual, the deep rumbling teased her senses.
"You know, I am reminded of the little hellion you were as a child. What I liked best then was your resilience. You were so willful and mischievous that everyone supposed you to be a brave little girl, but that was not quite true. You were not as courageous as they believed then, and you are not now. You have been frightened both times."
Jamie stroked her hair and held her close for what seemed an eternity. Nicolette felt her resistance wan. Finally, she leaned her head on his shoulder and the tension left her body. Her trust in him, at least for the moment, was complete.
"You are wrong. I am not afraid of you, but I will not marry you."
Jamie sighed deeply. His voice quiet and patient, "Tell me then, what are your reasons. I am willing to listen."
"I will not leave here," Nicolette slowly moved her hand across his flat, hard abdomen, finally resting on his hip.
"For the love of this place, these timbers and mortar, you refuse to marry me?"
"No! Not for the house itself nor the land, but for the people," Nicolette sighed, weary of the argument.
Jamie whispered, "Tell me of the chateau."
"I love it here. They need me. What you do not understand is that I run this estate and have since I was a very little girl. Through no choice of his own, Laurent is a member of the Parliament and must represent this province. He lives in Paris much of the time."
"You are telling me that you run this vast holding by yourself and have since you were a child?"
She could see the surprise in his face, "It is true! While Laurent is a loving brother, he has always been loath to be here. I know not why."
She put her hand on his cheek then moved his face so she could gaze directly into his eyes, "I realize my youth, but it is true. I run this estate. Because of the privilege of my birth everyone does as I ask. I have taken their advice often, but I made the final judgment. They may be our servants, but they are my friends as well. I cannot leave them here alone," she shrugged. "I have never left the estate, even for a few days. Laurent was always very protective."
"Aye, and I don’t blame him, lass," Jamie stroked her cheek. "Still, so much responsibility."
"The blame is not Laurent’s," she sighed. "I know what is needed and do everything. From my earliest memory, I helped Father daily, heard him take care of the business of the estate, and listened to each decision he made. We have good people and I rely on them. It was not easy to be alone, but I have had an excellent housekeeper, butler, and groundskeeper. I will never leave my people. I promised Father."
"Nicolette, this is Laurent’s inheritance and his responsibility. Your father never intended you remain chaste."
She started to protest, but Jamie gazed into her eyes, and put a finger over her lips to quiet her. He began to talk softly, telling her of America and Laurent.
Nicolette studied his profile and handsome features. Her resolve to hate him disappeared. He drew her with his charm, and each moment it became more difficult to resist her fascination.
"Laurent often speaks of America, about the beauty of the land, and the freedom of the people."
Jamie smiled, "Aye, it is a good place. I have often dreamed of moving the clan. We would prosper there. We work hard, but our land is poor. It is difficult to find the money we need for so many other
essentials."
She moved her hand from his waist upward, finally caressing the muscles she longed to touch. "I have often wondered about Scotland, the stories of warriors and the beautiful women."
"It is lovely there in the spring, the hills are green. I think you would like it then, but the time of the warrior has past, and the women, well, they are very lovely indeed."
"Do you have someone waiting for you at home?" Nicolette held her breath waiting for his reply, surprised to realize that she cared. When he did not speak, she wondered if he had a woman that he relinquished for her, "Have you known about this betrothal for long?"
Jamie’s voice was very low, "No, only for a short while, but there is no other woman. Would you be jealous lass?"
Nicolette shrugged away from him, and gazed into his deep, blue eyes, ignoring his attempt to tease her, "Tell me more."
"The winter is harsh and cold, much more so than it is here. That old fortress is not so fine as your chateau. Indeed, it is poor in comparison, but my family has lived there for hundreds of years, and held the land against every onslaught. We have a proud tradition behind us."
"Are there lambs? Darling little lambs and heather?"
Jamie seemed startled with that question, "Aye, always heather and in the spring, lambs."
"What are the women like, are there many with hair the color of yours?"
Jamie took her hand in his, kissed her fingertips, then tucked them in his, and held her hand close to his heart. "Nay, none but the Laird of the MacQueen’s has hair this color. Many say it is a curse from days of old. You see the MacQueen’s have long been at war, for hundreds of years we have fought the English. Some say my hair reminds them of all the deep, dark blood stains that cover the earth from the deadly fighting we have done."
"That’s a terrible thing to say," Nicolette giggled. "No, Monsieur, it is the color of a rich delicious burgundy wine! That is what we French would say."
"Do you like the color lass?"
Nicolette had not realized that she had been stroking the hair at the back of his neck. Instantly her hand stilled, "Do you have any sisters or brothers? Do your parents live?"
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