The Chevalier

by Jacqueline Seewald

  “You think I wished her to take her life?” The Duke threw him an incredulous look.

  “No, I’m certain it was an embarrassment at the time. Perhaps even an inconvenience. How did your bride react?” His voice was sharp with sarcasm as he strove for control. He did not want this man to see how affected he was by their meeting.

  “My wife and I have never discussed it. She may or may not know.”

  “My mother was your mistress for so many years, yet you never even thought to discuss her? How little she meant to you! How little you cared for me or my sister! You are an unfeeling monster who places no value on human life, except perhaps yours and your legitimate heirs!”

  “You know nothing of me,” his father shouted furiously. “How dare you choose to condemn me!”

  “That is where you are wrong. I remember the love my mother bestowed upon you, the passion she felt for you. I believe she expected that you would eventually marry her.”

  “You know as well as I that I had to marry someone who was titled. My marriage was arranged with that very purpose in mind. I loved your mother and would have kept her as my mistress regardless of whether I was married or not. I gave her a fine estate, your estate.”

  “I will take nothing from you. I never have nor ever will. We live there ‘tis true, but I have put the estate solely in my sister’s name and it shall be her dowry when she weds. As to myself, I have earned my own estate in the lake country and consider that my true residence. When Gwenda marries, I will be done with Lynwood and all it represents.”

  The Duke shook his head. “I did not cause your mother to take her life, no matter what you may think. You twist a dagger in my heart when you talk so to me. Very well, you wish this Scot free, it will be done. This is not to impress you with my consequence – you know it is greater than any other peer of the realm, but rather to let you know that I care for you as a father does care for his son. Would that someday you realize a more natural feeling for me as well.” With that, the Duke turned from him and left his study.

  Gareth should have been pleased with himself; he had gotten what he wanted from the Duke and with no need to beg or plead. He wouldn’t have done that anyway, no matter what the cost. However, in truth, he felt a heaviness in his heart. How had the Duke managed to make him feel in the wrong? A shrewd and clever man, his sire! He had walked away without any shred of guilt, promising to bestow the most benevolent of gifts. Gareth gritted his teeth. He had succeeded in his purpose. Perhaps now he might forget about Madeline de Marnay and her damn cousin. She would be able to marry her Scotsman, and the nasty affair would finally be ended. He wished never to see a Highlander again as long as he lived.

  He had not been fortunate with young, aristocratic women. This was the second time he’d been made a fool of by such a female. He’d been young and yet unformed when he loved Leandra. The family’s country estate had not been far from Lynwood in those days and he met Leandra in church and then again out riding. It was her beauty that he greatly admired at first, the ash blond of her hair; the serene blueness of her eyes. Aunt Lydia had commented that Leandra looked much like the portrait of his mother which hung over the mantle of their drawing room. He himself had not immediately noticed the similarity, but once it was pointed out to him, he found himself agreeing.

  Whatever the reason, he was drawn to her, and she seemed just as fond of him. It was not long before they were meeting secretly and their passion overtook their good sense. But Leandra was not a virgin, despite her youth, not that it really mattered very much to him, for he was far too much in love with the girl to care.

  When he suggested marriage, Leandra had balked at the idea, insisting that her father considered her too young. She was eighteen and he was twenty. It seemed to him a perfect age for marriage. Country people all married young, he pointed out. However, his beloved insisted that she have her father’s approval and that he would not give it until she was at least nineteen. In spite of her discouragement, Gareth took the matter upon himself and sought her father out to ask for her hand.

  Leandra’s father was furious. How dare a bastard without title or wealth ask for the hand of the daughter of a baronet? It was not to be tolerated. The man threatened to take a horsewhip to him. Gareth left totally crushed and despondent. It had never been brought home to him more harshly how lowly his place in English society was. Even the cruel taunts of some of the boys at school had been meaningless next to this.

  When Leandra’s father took her off to London for the season, Gareth followed, much to his Aunt Lydia’s disapproval. He told her that he was a man now and would make his own decisions accordingly.

  In London, he renewed old friendships with some of the young men who had been his schoolmates. William Havington was still a good friend and introduced him around to some of the young rakes who enjoyed a profligate lifestyle. For the first time in his life, he found out how attractive he was to women and he began to enjoy the advantage that good looks brought to him. He also discovered the gaming tables of the various clubs and found that he was a clever card player as well. But all the time, he thought about Leandra and brooded over his situation.

  He finally got his chance to talk with her at a ball to which William had taken him. He wanted to know why she had not responded to his letters. She told him that her father had not allowed her to receive them. She also said that her father refused to ever let them marry. It was then that Gareth told the platinum-haired beauty how he planned for them to elope. They would run away together, marry at Gretna Green, and then her father would be forced to accept their union.

  Leandra expressed reservations but finally agreed to his entreaties – or at least he thought she did. When he came for her, the girl’s father and uncle were waiting for him instead, and he was challenged to a duel. It was not what he wanted but he felt honor-bound to comply. The result was that Leandra’s father was seriously wounded.

  The following year, after her father’s eventual recovery, Leandra married a titled Englishman and moved to Kent. Gareth never saw her again nor did he wish to do so. He’d made a total ass of himself and understood it plainly. It was Leandra who’d told her father of the elopement plan. She had never really wanted him for a husband. He simply wasn’t good enough. Following the duel, she’d written him a letter stating exactly that so that he would entertain no further hopes for their future together.

  Afterwards, he’d bought his commission into the army. He could no longer remain at Lynwood with its painful memories, nor did he wish to be in London where people stared at him and whispered behind his back. He left Aunt Lydia in charge of Gwenda and the estate, knowing she was more than capable of handling both, and looked to another kind of life. His career as an army officer served him well enough until now. But Madeline had changed all of that. He had once again made an idiot of himself over an aristocratic lady, and this one wasn’t even English. The pain he felt was as keen as any inflicted by a sword. In fact, he could withstand physical hurt a good deal better than the mental anguish he was suffering now.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Madeline was not feeling well at all. Every morning, waves of nausea would overtake her. She could not eat anything until the noon hour at the very least. By late afternoon, her stomach would settle but she would feel terribly tired. She did not want to tell anyone of her problem, but Elizabeth was aware of it and eventually told her mother. Anne insisted on hearing the symptoms in detail.

  “Sounds to me as though ye might be with child, lass.”

  Madeline stared at her cousin in horror. “Oh, no!” she cried. “This cannot be; it must be something else!”

  “I do not think so. You say the illness has troubled you for over a month. You are ill in the morning but are well enough to eat later in the day. These are common indications.”

  “But I have no husband.”

  “It only takes a man to plant his seed in ye and it need not be one to whom you’re wed.”

  She shook her head. “Forgive me
. I seem to know a great deal less than I thought. Maman would keep me innocent, but I fear I was only ignorant.”

  The shock that she might be carrying another life within her sent Madeline to her bed. Later that day, the old cailleach brought her a cup of tea.

  “I don’t want any,” she told the old woman.

  “Losh, ‘course ye will have it! I’ve brewed it special for ye. Come give me your hand, lassie. Happen I can read the future in your palm.”

  Madeline sat up and did as she was told. The old woman garbed in black still reminded her of a witch and Madeline was loath to offend one so awe-inspiring. As the cailleach studied her palm, following the lines with her gnarled fingers, she gave a toothless smile.

  “Good things will come to ye, lass. Do not fret o’er the future. Ye shall be a mother e’re the year is out.”

  The old woman smiled as if that should indeed be good news, but Madeline was ready to cry. She quickly drank down the tea so that the old woman would leave her alone. Then she lay down upon the bed and gave in to her sense of panic. How would she manage a baby? She felt frightened and terribly alone. Even if Andrew were set free, she could not marry him now. She might have confessed her indiscretion to him regarding Gareth and perhaps even been forgiven – although she had her doubts about that as well, but there could never be a thought of marriage with him if she carried another man’s child. She thought to feel a terrible sense of loss, but surprisingly, she did not. She would miss her Highland family, yet she did not love Andrew MacCarnan, and for her, marrying a man she did not love would be a dreadful mistake.

  Maybe it was because she had seen the great love and regard her parents had for each other, but for whatever reason, she did not want to settle for less in a marriage. It was just as well that no one would have her now. There was no man that she loved and perhaps no man that she would ever love. Gareth Eriksen had proved to be a hideous disappointment to her, the bane of her life. She did not want to suffer so because of a man ever again. She had actually believed herself in love with Gareth.

  In her heart, she carried the image of a white chevalier, a man whose love, kindness, generosity of spirit and consideration for her were above reproach. Perhaps it was just the idealistic dream of a young girl but she refused to let it be shattered. She thought that Bonnie Prince Charlie might be such a man; did they not call him the blanc chevalier?

  But perhaps no flesh and blood man could truly compare to her ideal. Real human beings all had faults, didn’t they? Her fantasy of a white knight who would bring her love and happiness seemed all too fragile and suspiciously akin to the medieval romances she’d read as a child. She was no longer a child and must put away childish fantasies. At first, she thought that Gareth Eriksen might be her white chevalier but she had judged him by looks alone and there lay her mistake. Had she confused mere physical attraction for love? Perhaps her feelings for him had been an illusion, nothing more than childish infatuation. Still, she found it difficult to give up the beautiful dream. Before she fell asleep at night, the image of the chivalrous white knight appeared in her mind’s eye. The chevalier always looked like Gareth Eriksen. In her dreams at least, she could be rescued from all worldly sorrow and loved with pure devotion by her adored one.

  Her days settled into a quiet routine, yet she knew that she could not stay with her Scottish relatives indefinitely. If Gareth had told them the truth, soon Andrew would be returning from prison. The last thing he needed was to discover her condition. She had no desire to humiliate him in front of his people. But before she could make a decision as to what to do about her future, fate seemed to step in and take the choice from her.

  Seventeen

  Roland de Marnay arrived in the Highlands by coach on a rainy morning. He was little impressed by what he saw around him. This was indeed a primitive place inhabited by uncivilized creatures. It infuriated him that his stepmother, Katherine, had decided to remove herself and her daughter to such a location. Not that he would have cared if Katherine had gone to this dreadful place years ago, but Madeline was another matter entirely. He was very fond of his stepsister. She was sweet and pretty, perhaps eventually she would even be beautiful. She looked much like his Grandmere Linette, the mother of his father, who had been such a favorite at court. Grandmere Linette had greatly enhanced the fortunes of his Grandpere. With the right encouragement, which he was more than willing to provide, Madeline could do just as well. Roland reasoned that she could greatly improve his own position in French society. He could make good use of his little sister if she were cultivated properly. She was a biddable young thing and would do exactly as she was told. He would mold her. She could be taught how to make witty conversation in the salon for she had natural intelligence. Her charm and grace would give her an advantage in flirtation and seduction.

  Roland had no desire for a wife. Women, in general, did not appeal to him. Since he was unable to sire a child, there was really no need for him to ever marry. Therefore, his sister would make the perfect hostess for him. And if she caught the eye of the right man, perhaps eventually the King himself, his own future was assured. Of wealth he already had a great deal, but true power was something quite different. He craved it obsessively as a drunkard craved his brew. However, in France, there was only one way to wield true power – one must have access to the King’s ear. And the best way to be assured of the King’s favor was to provide him with a suitable mistress. There would come a time when Louis would tire of Pompadour and want a younger more beautiful woman. He would see that his sister was perfectly groomed for that opportunity.

  Impatiently, Roland approached the home of Madeline’s Scottish relations. At first, he thought that perhaps the coachman had made some mistake, but he had been assured that this was truly the place where Madeline had come. Impossible! Such poverty, he could not believe!

  Madeline was within and was truly happy to see him. She returned his embrace warmly. He saw the tears of genuine affection in her eyes and was much satisfied.

  “I have come to take you home with me, ma chere. I hope you are ready to leave here. Your mere, she has gone on to her reward?”

  “Oui, Roland.” Madeline lowered her head.

  He caressed the dark curls. She did not look as well as she should, he thought. Her ebony tresses lacked their usual luster and there were dark circles under her eyes as if she had been sleeping poorly. But who would look well in such a place? She probably had not eaten a decent meal in months. Well, he would change all that and cement her loyalty. In good time, he would exact the reward of her gratitude.

  “You will tell these people that you are coming with me, cherie. I will take you back to London and when my business is concluded, we will depart for Paris together.”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Madeline did not argue with her brother. She knew that this was the best solution to her problems. Roland was of her blood and he would take care of her. She would tell him about the child when the time came, although she knew that the knowledge would hurt him. She dreaded the shame of facing him with the information. But surely Roland would be forgiving. And who knew, Anne might be wrong about the cause of her ill health.

  As Madeline packed her bags, she felt at peace for the first time in months. Elizabeth came into the room to help her.

  “Oh, Maddy, must you go?” The great, green eyes filled with mist.

  “It’s for the best, I am certain of that. I could not face your brother.”

  “‘Twas not your fault. I’ll tell him so. That horrible Englishman, Andrew should know!”

  “No, there’s no point. I’m going away with Roland. Then there’ll be no shame to your family. Andrew can marry a woman more worthy of him.”

  Elizabeth burst into tears and threw her arms around Madeline’s neck. “He’ll ne’er find a lass more worthy of him! I think of you as my sister. I don’t want you to go!”

  “I wouldn’t leave if I could help it, but this seems the only way.” She hugged Beth, and the two girls he
ld to each other for several minutes. Then Madeline pulled away. “Remember always that I love you and your mother. I love you all. Tell Andrew not to think too ill of me.” She bit down on her lower lip. “He is a kind and good man. I hope he will forgive me. I hope you all will.” With that, she left, hurrying away to the waiting coach. She choked back her sobs.

  She felt ill for a good part of the journey back to London. Her sense of shame made her hide her discomfiture from her brother, but she knew that Roland was aware that something was wrong. Still, he did not press her and so she spoke little of her stay in the Highlands. Her mother’s maid, Marie, rode with them in the coach and tended to her needs. She had confided very little in Marie and since the woman spoke almost no English, she thought her secret to be safe for the time being. Marie would not have understood her conversations with Anne and Elizabeth.

  The townhouse in London was a welcome sight after the weary weeks of traveling. Madeline felt very much at home here, except that she missed her mother terribly. Everything about the house reminded her of Maman.

  “There is no point for us to keep separate residences, ma soeur. It is an unnecessary expense. Now that I am your guardian, I must protect your financial interests. You and I shall live here for the time being. I will bring my valet. I have already let some of your servants go and others I have replaced.”

  “I wish you had not done that,” she said with concern. “Maman and I were happy with those who served us.”

  “From now on, you must not worry over such trifling matters. I will take complete charge. When we return to France, we will also live together. I will care for you.”

  Madeline was not certain she wanted to be taken care of by Roland or anyone else for that matter. Still, her brother’s concern and kindness touched her. She would be safe with Roland. Surely, Maman had been wrong about his character.