The Chevalier

by Jacqueline Seewald

  The water of the loch was a blue green, reflecting both the pristine sky above and the tall trees surrounding it. Madeline stripped down to her chemise and then ran into the water. Small rocks pricked her tender feet and caused her to begin to swim as quickly as possible. She was not the best of swimmers as it was not the vogue among French ladies to take to the waters. In fact, more than a few elegant aristocrats reeked of heavy perfume because they rarely chose to bathe. But Maman, not being French by birth, had demanded cleanliness, unimpressed by the fashion of the times.

  Maman had made certain that they took some vacations near the sea and her daughter learned how to swim. Moving vigorously in the cold water of the loch, she was grateful for this. The waterfall looked particularly inviting and Madeline moved swiftly toward it. By the time she touched bottom near the falls, she was breathless but feeling happier and more relaxed then she had in a very long time. Her only thought was that Maman would have enjoyed this and she wished that they could be together enjoying this rare spring day.

  A noise from the shore caught her attention and startled her into looking back. There sitting astride his great, black stallion was Gareth Eriksen. He began to wave and call out to her, looking at her as if she were the main course at a banquet. Aware that she was wearing nothing but a thin chemise so soaked against her skin as to be transparent, she started to move quickly back into the water. Her acute embarrassment caused Madeline to lose her footing on the slippery rocks and she went under. Her ankle twisted as she swallowed water.

  At first, she thought that she would surely be drowned and began to panic. She struggled to surface and then felt strong hands come around her body.

  “Don’t fight me! I’m just trying to help you.”

  She allowed him to take hold and tow her to shore. She was coughing when they got to the bank.

  “Decided to swallow up half the lake, did you?”

  All she could do was shake her head until she cleared her lungs, her breasts heaving as she continued to cough.

  He looked at her with concern. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she managed.

  He was looking at her closely, a slow perusal from her face down the entire length of her body. She caught the intent expression and felt her heart begin to lurch, the blood rise to her face. Why did he have this strange effect upon her?

  Gareth unbuttoned his wet shirt and removed it, spreading it out in the sun to dry. She stared at his body in wonderment. He was so magnificent; broad, muscular shoulders, a powerful chest with golden hair upon it. Surely, the ancient artists would have chosen him to model for statues of Hercules or Apollo if they could have known him. He observed that she was staring at him and looked amused. Madeline lowered her eyes in embarrassment.

  “You’re trembling,” he said. “Strip off those wet garments before you catch your death.” He sensed her reluctance. “I’ll turn away so that you can change.”

  “Perhaps you ought to just go,” she said.

  “You nearly drowned out there. I won’t leave you alone again.”

  “I’m really quite an adequate swimmer. I merely lost my balance for a moment. Thank you for seeing to me, but you can leave now.”

  “Actually, I have a confession to make, I followed you out here so we could have a private talk.”

  But the way his eyes had darkened and the husky quality of his voice made her wonder if talking were what he really had on his mind. She moved slightly away from him as he moved closer.

  “What did you want to talk about?”

  “I regard an uneasiness on your part, when we last spoke, and now as well. It was not there before. Has your cousin threatened you regarding me?”

  “Anne would never threaten me. It’s just that she doesn’t want me speaking to you. I am sorry, Gareth, but like it or not, she is family, and you are the enemy of Highlanders.”

  “I don’t consider myself an enemy of the Scots. I’m simply carrying out my duty to my king. There’s no malice involved, I can assure you.”

  “But you’ve come for my cousin Andrew! You see that it cannot be as it was, though it pains me greatly.”

  “Why does it pain you?” His eyes snared her own.

  She wanted to look away but found that she could not and began to tremble even more violently. Suddenly, his arms were around her, holding her tightly. His mouth took hers like a conqueror, possessing her lips with a kiss that was as passionate as it was masterful. She found herself responding with an eagerness she could not prevent. Then the kiss deepened and his tongue was insinuating its way between her slightly parted lips. His tongue found hers and stroked it in a way that thrilled and excited her down to her toes. His hands were moving as his lips trailed hot kisses down her chilled body. All of a sudden the wet chemise was being torn free of her body and then he was against her, easing her back against the grass. His hands touched everywhere, his kisses moving from the hollow of her throat to her neck and then to her breast. One hand stroked her left breast as his lips kissed her right. She let out a deep moan and arched her back as his tongue circled her nipple. There was a fire in her blood, a fire that he had ignited, that destroyed her ability to reason and think. All she could do was feel, feel the pleasure that his touch and kisses were bringing to her.

  “You are so very lovely, so sweet,” he said. “I cannot help but want you.”

  His mouth suckled at her breast as his hands moved downward, touching the flatness of her stomach and then still further to the curly triangle of hair at her apex. She dug her nails into the sinews of his powerful, broad back; wild with the new and incredible feelings he was causing her to feel. Then his fingers began to gently massage the very special place that no man had ever touched before. She felt a sharp, stab of pleasure at his touch and writhed against him. As her hips moved, he brought his hard lower body against her soft femininity and she startled slightly. This was no game; he was going to take her virginity if she didn’t stop him. And yet, she wanted him to continue, she could hardly bear for him to stop! Whatever it was that he was doing to her, she couldn’t help wanting it.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Gareth could tell that she was indeed a very passionate girl, just as he had thought before. He knew how to excite a woman and give her pleasure, being the very experienced lover that he was. With Madeline, because she was such a young girl, he had been careful to keep himself tightly controlled. The self-discipline he’d learned as a soldier, he applied just as successfully to his lovemaking. He was always in control and he wanted it that way. He never gave in to wild, unbridled passion. First, he made certain that the woman he was with had an ample share of pleasure. He saw that the climax was genuine, not faked merely to please him, and then he took his pleasure. He never would have believed that a man of his experience would ever again feel so greatly aroused by any female. Perhaps he was not so jaded as he thought.

  Although why he found Madeline so appealing he couldn’t say, for the chit was little more than a child really. Yet he enjoyed her innocence and honesty, tired of the hard, cynical London ladies of the haute ton that he usually slept with. Perhaps it was the novelty of this girl, for she truly was different. He saw now that her eyes were glazed with passion and he enjoyed his sense of mastery. He was feeling more aroused then he could ever remember being and breathed deeply to prevent himself from being overcome by his own needs. After all, she was young and possibly a virgin. No matter how eager she might be for him, if it were her first time, it would be difficult. He concentrated on her enjoyment, ignoring his own desperate need. But her young, lush body aroused his lust like no other woman before her. The openness of her response, the lack of any pretense was quite touching. It overwhelmed him.

  Her arms were around his neck, accepting, trusting. She was fully within his power to do with as he wished. He rubbed the soft, pink nipples of her breasts ever so slowly with his thumbs, his tongue darted into her mouth to capture hers and stroke it, never breaking the sensual rhythm between them. She m
oaned deep and low in her throat, her eyes closed. Her skin was silk and fire.

  He ignored the painful throbbing in his groin, stroking her body, bringing his hands over her firm belly, kneading it, before moving lower to touch the glorious curls which denoted her womanly attributes. She writhed beneath him, aching for the release that he would provide. His fingers moved to that special place of hers which he craved. She tensed beneath him, but he reassured her by deepening his kiss. His fingers massaged with a special magic, the rhythm of the musician who knows how to play an instrument in perfect key. He stroked her soft woman’s flesh, that tiny nub of sensuality, until she cried out and shuddered against him.

  He knew just when she came fully, shattering and fragmenting. He could feel her wracked with spasms of pleasure beneath him, a cry of pleasure, then her damp body went limp and she was breathing heavily. He held her tightly to him and continued to kiss her.

  “No more,” she said. “It’s so wonderful, but please, no more!”

  “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 st
renuously, 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.