by Fiona Faris
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 she 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.
Madeleine’s mind was a tangle of thoughts and concerns, but she didn’t let that deter her from letting the serenity of the massive garden she was in bring her some peace. She leaned forward, just off of the path, to smell a soft pink rose; touching her fingertips to its silky petals as she breathed in its delicious scent, when she felt the strange sensation that she was being watched. With a slight frown, she lifted her head and looked around.
James was standing not far from her, dressed finely and looking perfectly groomed. His dark brown hair took on a glint of gold in the midday sun, and
his brown eyes seemed to shine as he watched her. A playful smile formed on his mouth, and, having been discovered watching her, he walked toward her until he reached her, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.
“I would not have dreamed that this garden could ever be lovelier, but with you here in it, it has improved immeasurably.” He bowed slightly as he kissed the back of her fingers and let her hand go.
Madeleine felt her cheeks grow warm as she blushed. “Thank ye. Hello, James.”
“It’s a good day now because you’ve made it so.” He held his arm out to her. “Shall we go a short way and talk?”
Madeleine dutifully took his arm, pushing away the thoughts of independence that hedged at the back of her mind. She listened as James began to speak.
“Your aunt has made it clear that you are seeking a husband at court. I myself am seeking a wife. I have been for a while. The lady that I marry must be the right lady for me. I am hopeful that you will be that woman; your beauty is incomparable, and it would please me immensely if you were a good match for me.” He spoke pleasantly, looking off into the distance of the garden as if he was picturing his future with her in his mind, glancing at her from time to time.
“Why have you no’ found the right one yet?” Madeleine asked curiously, wondering why a man who was considered to be such a fine catch might still be single.
James considered her question and answered it thoughtfully. “I want a woman who is a well-behaved wife. A true lady. I’m not so concerned with the dowry a wife could offer me, so long as she is of the right mind and temperament. She must be obedient; pliant to my will.”
Madeleine wondered if she could be the kind of woman James wanted as a life partner and if she could change enough to be someone she wasn’t, in order to secure a good marriage. Her mother’s words about marriage being a sacrifice came back to her.
James continued, looking into her eyes. “I am a proud Protestant. My wife will be, as well, so that I may rule over a house at peace; one that is unified in its faith and direction.”
Madeleine felt the stirring of rebellion deep inside her. “It sounds as if you’d rather have a servant than a partner.”
James considered her statement and nodded in some acquiescence. “What is a wife, if not a servant to her husband, her lord and master? She is there to give him children, to love him and support him, to cherish him, to care for him all of his days.”
Madeleine’s jaw clenched. She did not like the direction that his train of thought was taking. James saw the tightening of her jaw and a half-laugh escaped him. “Come now, perhaps we should get to know each other a bit better, and let rest the talk of marriage for a little while. As wonderful as it would be to continue to walk through this garden with you, perhaps we might go for a ride, instead. Come.”
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About the Author
Fiona Faris is an American author of authentic historical Medieval & Scottish romance books. She started writing historical highlander romance after she visited the Scottish Highlands years ago with her husband.
Her books have received startling reviews about the humor, the darkness and the romance they have.
She lives in Dallas, Texas with her husband and their two sons. Before she started writing romance, she experienced the various occupations: translator, dog-training, and a substitute English teacher for the most part of her life... However, nothing could ever compare to writing stories depicting the majestic and mysterious Scottish Highlands!
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