The Chevalier (21 page)

“Have you lost your taste for salmon?” Anne asked.

She shook her head. “No, I’m just not very hungry.”

“Well, you must do better,” Anne chided gently.

After the meal, Andrew turned to her. “I think we should be alone for a time and have a bit of a talk,” he said.

Madeline nodded her head, knowing that this could no longer be postponed. Nonetheless, she dreaded what must come. With a sharp look to Elizabeth, Anne announced that they would be retiring. There was no help for it; Madeline was left alone with the chief of the MacCarnan. Andrew led her to the drawing room where he seated himself beside her on a tartan-covered settee. He held her hand and did not let go of it.

“I’m no longer a man who can offer you much of a future, Maddy, my lass. I’ve no right to ask you to marry me anymore. Yet, I have feelings for ye. Though my prospects have been altered, my affection for you has not.”

“We’ve barely had a chance to know each other,” Madeline replied, looking into his eyes. She knew he could be a fierce man, but he looked at her with gentle regard. “I consider you a dear, good friend, someone I care about a great deal. But there’s something you must know, and it hurts me very much to tell you this. You see, ‘tis I who would be judged unworthy of you.” She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, staring into his unblinking eyes. “Andrew, I am going to have a child.”

“A bairn?” His uncomprehending eyes opened in surprise. “But how can that be?”

“There was a man. There shouldn’t have been but there was.” She felt her face redden and fixed her eyes on the floor.

“Aye, and who would the mon be?” His voice had the sort of calm that one might find in the eye of a storm.

“Does it matter?”

“Will this mon be wed to you, Maddy?”

She shook her head. “No, he does not even like me.”

“And yet he’s done this to you!” Andrew’s voice was filled with rage. “Tell me who he is, lass.”

She shook her head. “Better if you don’t know. Just forget about me as you can see I’m not worthy of you.”

“‘Tis not you I blame. You are my betrothed. There is a matter of honor here.”

“No, truly. Perhaps it was a mistake that I came back here. I see that now. I’m hurting you and ‘tis the last thing I would wish for. I’ll be gone in the morning and then you best forget me.” Madeline felt a great lump in her throat.

“Leave here?” he said in some confusion. His hands clasped her shoulders tightly. “Nay, you’ll not leave here. I won’t have it! I’ll marry you anyway. You’re still my betrothed, Madeline. This changes nothing for us.”

She stared at him in surprise. “You’re a dear man, Andrew MacCarnan, but I cannot let you do such a thing. You must have your own children.”

“I will. And I can accept this one as well since it is part of you, lass.”

Andrew put his arms around Madeline and kissed her warmly. The kiss was gentle and good although it raised no actual feeling except affection in her. For some reason that she couldn’t fathom, his kindness only made her heart feel sadder. As they came apart, Madeline realized that someone had walked into the drawing room. She turned and looked up, shocked to find the angry eyes of Gareth Eriksen boring into her.

 
Twenty-One

Gareth felt enraged and betrayed as he surveyed the silver-eyed girl, just as he had once before at the sight of Andrew MacCarnan kissing her. He realized it was not a rational reaction, but that only made him angrier.

MacCarnan turned and saw Gareth, then eyed him warily. “This is unexpected. You haven’t come to take me back I hope.”

“No, you’re free. You’ve sworn not to take up arms against His Majesty again and if you hold to that, you’ll never have a problem.”

“A MacCarnan never breaks his word,” came the stiff-backed response. “So then what brings ye here?”

“Other matters,” Gareth responded evasively.

“Well, consider yourself our guest for now. Ye have saved my life after all and I owe you that much.”

Gareth did not respond, aware of the awkwardness of his position.

MacCarnan eyed him thoughtfully. “Why are you not in uniform?”

Gareth hesitated. “I am no longer a soldier,” he replied with no vocal inflection.

“That’s something of a wonder, you being so dedicated. Why have you left the army?”

MacCarnan’s questions were making him uneasy. Still, he realized, the man had every right to inquire.

“It was time for me to leave His Majesty’s service,” he replied evasively. Under no circumstances did he want MacCarnan to realize that he’d left in order to secure the Highlander’s pardon. It would only provoke further questions he was unwilling and perhaps unable to answer.

Gareth gnashed his teeth as MacCarnan placed his arm possessively around Madeline’s shoulders, but he realized that he had no right to say anything about it. Madeline seemed uncomfortable, for she quickly removed the Scot’s arm and stepped away, tightening a woolen shawl around her.

“Perhaps I should let the two of you speak in private,” she said, not looking at either of them.

“Not at all,” Gareth hastened, “what I have to discuss can wait until morning.” He did not want to talk with Madeline at the moment, fearing that his temper would get the best of him and he might say or do something that he would regret later.

“Doubtless, you’ll want some rest now. We can accommodate you well enough,” MacCarnan said.

“I would prefer sleeping in the old castle as I did before,” he responded.

“Mon, you’ll catch your death there! ‘Tis a cold night and the place is nothing more than a moldering ruin.”

“I rather like it,” he persisted. “Besides, I can build a cozy fire within and be quite comfortable. I’m certain your mother would prefer it that way.”

At the reference to his mother, MacCarnan shrugged. “As you will. I’ll have some clean linen and blankets brought to you as well as kindling. I would not have it said that Highlanders are inhospitable.”

“By your leave then, we’ll confer in the morning,” Gareth said.

The chieftain nodded his head. Gareth took a final quick glance at Madeline de Marnay whose head was turned away from him. He could not help but wonder what thoughts and feelings were running through her lovely head. He was impatient to find out but decided that tomorrow morning would come soon enough. She had not changed that much, but the question of whether or not she was carrying a child was easily answered once she was seen, although she was not large as yet.

♥ ♥ ♥

After Gareth had gone, Madeline soon excused herself from Andrew and went to lie down in Elizabeth’s room. Her cousin was not asleep and the two of them spoke for a time. But Madeline did not confide in Beth concerning either Andrew’s proposal or Gareth’s return. Of course, Beth would know of both in the morning, but for now, Madeline could not bring herself to speak of either. Her mind was troubled and confused. She wished that she knew whether or not to marry her cousin. He was so kind, so affectionate. She could not marry a better man. But why did she not feel anything when he kissed her? Perhaps if he had kissed her the way Gareth Eriksen did, she would have felt something. Andrew kissed her with respect, as a man ought to treat a lady. Gareth had used her like a whore. She should not have responded to him with such passion! Of course, he’d thought the worst of her. How could she have behaved in such a wanton manner? And look at all the misery it had caused. Yet, God help her, she still wanted him, wanted to feel his arms around her.

She lay in bed, her mind unable to stop the torturing thoughts that possessed it. Finally, with Elizabeth fast asleep beside her, she quietly rose, placed a wrapper over her night-rail and slipped out the door. She had only intended to walk about the manor house for a while, but something prompted her to leave and walk the short distance to the castle. She carried a taper with her, shivering in the chill night air. Hurriedly, before she might lose her courage or change her mind, she walked up the stairs to the master chamber where she thought to find Gareth. Knocking quietly at the door, she waited nervously until his deep baritone voice commanded her to enter.

“Well, this is something of a surprise,” he said, surveying her coolly with his brilliant, azure eyes.

“I know that you wanted to talk with me in London. I need to know what it was about.”

His crystalline eyes had the clarity of a frozen lake mirroring the sky. “I rather thought your brother might have spoken to you about it.”

“Roland thought it best to keep me locked in my room. He wishes me to have nothing more to do with you.”

“So it would appear,” he responded dispassionately. “And you feel the same?”

“I am here, am I not?”

He smiled at her response, flashing dazzling porcelain teeth. “So you are.”

“And so you will tell me why you came to London – and why you are here.”

“First, let me look at you.”

She lowered her eyes, hugging her body with her arms. “I would rather you did not.”

“I won’t play children’s games with you, Mademoiselle. Your cousin, Anne, informed me that you were with child. I wanted to know if that is so, but I can see that it is. I must ask who has sired this child.”

She felt a sense of rage sweep over her. How dare he ask that question, the insufferable swine!

“Why not assume that the father of my child could be anyone of a score of men.”

“I see,” he responded in an infuriating calm tone of voice. “So I might be the child’s father or I might not be.”

“Assume you are not. You are only one of a myriad of lovers who I have known, is that not so?” She was so angry that she felt like punching him. Her hands became clenched fists. Her body trembled with barely controlled rage.

“How good of you to tell me,” he responded dryly. “In fact, awfully good of you not to try to hold me responsible. Now I can sleep without a care in the world.”

She could not miss the undercurrent of irony in his voice. “I do not wish to ever speak to you again,” she said in a soft but intense voice.

His smile was infuriating. “I’ve gone to great trouble to find you, Mademoiselle, even fought a duel over you and used great forbearance with your brother. I believe I have a right to something more than your hostility.” He moved toward her.

“You have no rights where I am concerned, no rights at all.” She backed away from him warily.

There was something predatory in the way he looked at her. His eyes seemed to be darkening and she had the odd feeling that he was like a lion ready to pounce.

“I’m going now,” she said.

“I don’t really think that we’ve settled anything.”

As she turned, his hands reached out and grabbed her by the arms. She found that her heart had begun to pound and she was breathing rapidly. “Please don’t touch me,” she said.

“Why not?”

“I detest you!”

“You’re still lying.” The too handsome face loomed above her.

“You think so much of yourself. Perhaps I might have been foolish enough to fall at your feet once, but I know better now. I am no longer that same stupid, trusting child.”

“Of course, you’re not.” He lowered his head capturing her lips with fierce possession. His mouth was hard and soft at the same time. The tartness of desire lay like a heady wine upon his lips. He held her head with one hand while his other was tightly fastened about her waist. He was overwhelming her with his kisses, her flesh melting as if on fire. His hand moved beneath her breasts, cupping her left breast in his large hand then rubbing the nipple with his thumb until she could hardly stand it for the ripple of pleasure that shot through her. Then he was lifting her into his arms and carrying her, placing her ever so gently on the bed which smelled of fresh linens.

She tried to rise then, to protest, but his mouth covered hers, kissing away her words. His body pressed against her, his hands moved up and down and she could not free herself.

“Don’t fight what we both want,” he said in a quiet whisper. “We belong together. It’s been so long. I ache for you. I won’t hurt you.”

Then he wasn’t speaking anymore. She felt her wrapper being removed and then her gown even as his hands explored her. How could she be letting him do this to her again? But he was irresistible. She began to shiver.

She felt the unmistakable pressure of his erect member moving hard against her lower abdomen. The scorching caress of his hands on her breasts sent jolts of hot fire through every part of her body. She could hardly stand it. But she must stop him somehow. Why was she so weak?

“Beautiful,” he said, staring down at the pink-tipped nipples of her breasts as his forefinger glided from one hardened peak to the other. “How often I have dreamt of your body.” Her breath caught in her throat.

Then his tongue seductively stroked hers while his hands kneaded the flesh of her thighs. His fingers probed her woman’s flesh, touching, rubbing, until she was wild with the excitement of it. His mouth began to move down her body, conquering with small, hot kisses that left her a fevered, quivering mass. When his mouth moved to where his hands had been before, she writhed beneath him. His mouth was a bold invader and she could no longer resist.

As he entered her, she instinctively began to move with him, wrapping her legs tightly around his muscular thighs as his thrusts came fast and hard. She cried out as her body shuddered with incredible pleasure so intense that for several moments she simply disappeared into it and knew nothing else. Madeline felt as if she’d shattered into myriad shards of brilliant crystal.

Then she felt him collapse beside her as she came out of the sweet oblivion. His breath was coming in gasps and he felt clammy to the touch, but he still held her tightly to him.

“Let me go,” she said in a barely audible voice.

“Not ever if I can help it,” he replied.

His words both surprised and shocked her, but she did not believe them. They were after all just words said in the aftermath of passion.

“I must go,” she said. “I should not have come here.”

He held her fast. “Of course, you should be here with me.” His mouth took hers again, the kiss long and deep, heating her blood once more. Her mind began to spin out of control. How she managed to pull herself free of him she did not know.

“I am ashamed that I let you use me so again.”

His arched his brow. “You had no pleasure?”

She felt her face redden. “Yes, a great deal, but that is beside the point.”

He held her around the waist and caressed her cheek. “That is exactly the point. Not every man and woman share this special kind of voluptuous gratification. What if I said that I was sorry for the way I behaved; I know that I was wrong. I am a jealous, suspicious man, who finds it difficult to trust women, and because of that, I am capable of behaving very badly.”

“You were a beast,” she agreed.

He pressed a lock of hair back from her forehead. “You could be a bit more generous.”

“I haven’t forgiven you.” She folded her hands over the fullness of her breasts.

He looked down and patted her slightly rounded belly. “I can well understand why you haven’t forgiven me. But I am ready to take responsibility; I want you to know that. I’m going to marry you. Now what do you have to say to that?”

She got off the bed, found her night-rail and put it quickly on, following with the wrapper. He watched her with an amused expression on his face.

“Has my proposal brought on this display of modesty?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do you want to marry me?” she asked.

He sat up on the bed looking surprised. She could not avoid noticing the broad expanse of muscular chest covered with golden hair, the sheer physical magnificence of the man. Best to look away, she thought, forcing herself to avert her gaze.

“Men marry for many reasons. I have no need of heirs. I am not an aristocrat. However, I would not have a child of mine born a bastard.”

“And that is the only reason you would marry me?” she asked, a pain beginning to ache somewhere in her heart.

“Isn’t that reason enough?”

“For you perhaps, but certainly not for me.”

He gave her a cool, detached smiled. “There is, of course, another reason if we are to be candid with one another. You are, shall we say, a most enthusiastic woman by nature. I am a man who appreciates that in a woman. To be blunt, we make each other very happy in bed. As I have already observed, that is not true of all relationships.”