Highlander's Forbidden Lass (Lasses 0f Tweeddale Book 3), page 7
part #3 of Lasses 0f Tweeddale Series
James bowed low to her and then took his leave, and Margaret watched him closely from the door until he was gone. Then she walked to Madeleine’s room and opened the door to find Madeleine laying on her bed, her curls tangled and splayed out around her, and her face buried in a pillow.
With a sigh, Margaret closed the door behind her and walked to the bed, sitting beside Madeleine as she reached her hand out to gently stroke the girl’s hair. “What is it now, my dear? What’s happened?”
Madeleine wiped at her tear-streaked cheeks, red with emotion, and turned to face her aunt. “I cann’a marry him. He is much too controlling, and he will no’ make a braw husband for me!”
Margaret nodded in understanding and patted Madeleine’s arm before taking her hand and holding it warmly. “My darling, you will not find a better match at court. Your mother wishes for you to be well-married and soon. She wants the best for you. I realize that you may feel that you want to keep your independence, but that cannot be. You must wed and give in to the obligations and restraints of marriage. You aren’t likely to find a husband who will let you be as free as you have been up until now. Marriage is a sacrifice.”
Tears rolled out of Madeleine’s eyes. “But must I sacrifice who I am to become someone I am no’ for nothing more than a man?”
Margaret sighed and gave Madeleine’s hand a squeeze. “Remember why you are doing it. You are doing this for your family, for the honor of your clan, and for your future. That’s a great deal of sacrifice, but with your sacrifices come great rewards. You will have a title of nobility, and money and power. You will have lands. You will have security that your family may rely upon should they need it. You are gaining much more than you will lose. Don’t worry too much about letting go of some of your independence. I suspect that he may have… spooked you a bit with his interests. Don’t worry about that either. You are not yet familiar with the desires of a man, and it can be intimidating now, but you will come to enjoy it later on, when you are more comfortable with it.”
Madeleine rolled her eyes and looked away from her aunt. “I dinna ken he will want me anymore anyway. I was so angry with him that I left him far behind me.”
Margaret smiled. “You might be surprised. Sometimes giving chase makes a man want you more, and it certainly worked with him. James is so anxious to marry you that he wants the wedding to happen as soon as possible.”
Madeleine’s eyes widened in fear, and she pushed herself up to sit before her aunt. “No! I cann’a marry him! He wants to… to own me! I willn’a let him rule over me like a servant!”
Margaret took her by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. “He is not unkind, Madeleine. He has made it clear that he wants you, and now we go before the King and the Queen Mother. If they give their blessing, your engagement will be official, and you two will be wed. Do you know, I think he’d have wed you today if he could have. I’ve never seen him want anything or anyone more. Take heart, darling. It will be an ideal match, and you will learn to be a proper wife to him in time.”
Madeleine gripped her skirts in her fingers and shook her head, fearing that she might be locked in eternal bondage with a man who would never let her be who she truly was inside. “No!”
Her aunt walked to the bedroom door and gave Madeleine a smile over her shoulder. “Now dear, have a little rest and when you wake, things will look brighter. You’ll see the good in this marriage soon. I am leaving to go make arrangements and to speak with the Queen Mother about it. She is a dear friend to me, and I feel certain that she will support this match. Cheer up my dear. This is what you wanted; it’s why you came to France.”
Margaret closed the chamber door, and Madeleine dropped her head into her hands, certain that her life was ending. She had to find a way out of the marriage, if not out of France altogether. She knew that she was innocent of the passions of men, but she knew enough to recognize that James wanted more from her than she was willing or even able to part with; pieces of her soul that made her who she was.
With a heavy sigh, she left her chamber and watched from a window as her aunt’s carriage disappeared on the road leading from the house. Madeleine brushed through her tangled curls until they were silky smooth again, resting around her bosom, her shoulders, and her back.
She decided to go for a walk in the garden. It had been one of the two things that had brought her peace and joy that day; the other being her wild ride on the young mare. Madeleine wandered among the flower beds and bushes, under the embracing trees, and down to the pretty pond where the swans and ducks glided across the water as if they were drifting seamlessly upon glass. She sat on the grass beneath a tree in the shade and watched them, soaking in the peaceful moment.
“Maddie…” A deep voice sounded behind her, and she turned sharply to see Fyn walking toward her.
At the sight of him, her heart sped up, and it felt almost as if gravity had suddenly released its hold on her. He was walking toward her, dressed in dark pants and a loose white shirt, which tied up the front to the neck, and which hinted strongly at the muscles sculpted beneath the material. She rose to her feet, gazing up into his sea blue eyes, feeling as though everything inside of her was somehow coming undone.
“Fyn! What… what are ye doing here?” she asked incredulously.
He smiled at her and the dimples in both of his cheeks appeared. “I promised ye last night that I would come and see ye. Besides… ye left me with something last night that I cann’a seem to let go of.”
She blinked in puzzlement. “I… I dinna give ye anything, did I?” She tried to think back, remembering every detail she could, but nothing came to her mind.
Fyn stopped before her and raised his hand, stroking the back of his fingers delicately over the curve of her cheek. “Ye gave me thoughts and dreams of ye, and I haven’a been able to think of anything but ye since then.”
Madeleine blushed pink and tried not to stare at the black curl of his hair sweeping over his forehead, resting just above his blue gaze. Something in her wanted to reach up and touch it, to feel what it would be like to slip her fingers through his hair, but she gave her head a shake and drew in a deep breath, looking away from him.
“I thought I’d take ye out for a wee surprise, if ye like.” He grinned and held his hand out to her.
Hesitating only a moment, she reached for his hand and took it in hers, feeling a warmth from his skin that seemed to flow through her like melted honey, sweet and delicious. “What is this surprise ye speak of?” she asked, wondering what he had in mind for them.
Fyn shook his head. “Ah no, if I tell ye, it willn’a be a surprise anymore, will it!”
She followed him with a growing smile on her face, feeling almost like skipping as happiness ballooned in her. Fyn led her through the house and out to the front where the groom was waiting with his horse; a large white stallion, gleaming in the sunlight.
Madeleine laughed softly and went to the animal, introducing herself to him. Fyn watched her patiently and gave her a wink. “Dae ye like him?”
“I do!” she breathed with a grin.
“He likes ye, too,” Fyn told her, his eyes catching hers for a moment. “So it’ll be fine if ye ride him.”
“If I ride him?” she asked in surprise. “Are we leaving?”
“We are,” he told her. “Up ye go.”
Madeleine mounted the stallion with ease, though Fyn helped her gently. Much to her surprise, he leapt up behind her and slid his arms around her waist to hold the reins before her.
“You’re… you’re riding with me?” she asked as her breath left her almost entirely. The feel of his firm, warm body against her made her blood rush and her heart pound.
“Aye.” He spoke in a low voice near her ear. “Dae ye mind?”
Something akin to panic raced through her, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and she felt uncertainty as she spoke in earnest. “No,” she managed to answer just above a whisper, “I dinna mind.”
“Good. Then let’s go,” he murmured against her neck. She felt a shiver of electricity move through her, and the way her body reacted to it was nothing short of a shock to her. Her muscles tightened, and heat began to build throughout her. She tried to ignore it, to find a way to slow the rapid pace of her heart, but even slowing her breathing did not help.
They rode off through the woods, going a different direction than she had with James earlier in the day, and though she was curious about where they were headed and what they would be doing, she decided to just let herself enjoy it, at least as much as the new experience of riding with a man like Fyn could allow.
She was acutely aware of his body moving against hers as they swayed together on the back of the horse, and his arms around her as he held the reins, and his warm, sweet breath on her neck and cheek. Now and then he would comment on something or other, and the sound of his deep voice in her ear, the feel of his mouth so close to her neck, would make her breathless, and each time, she closed her eyes, feeling a rush of dizziness sweep over her, making her want to lean back into him, to feel his solid chest against her back. She ached to feel what it would be like if his lips were to brush her ear and her neck.
These thoughts were strange to her; she had never known anything like them in her mind before. Something about Fyn made her feel things wholly new to her, and though she wasn’t certain what she was feeling, she did know that she liked it, and she wanted to feel more of it.
Chapter Eight
After riding a while, they stopped at a meadow beside a river and dismounted the horse. He went off to drink at the water’s edge as Fyn watched Madeleine, and Madeleine stared in wonder at the beautiful picnic that was waiting for them on the bank of the river.
Material had been spread over the thick grass and set about with fluffy pillows. There was a low table to one side where a bottle of wine waited beside beautiful goblets. A sheer cover had been raised over part of the set up to offer shade, and bowers of sweet flowers were laid all around the edge of the material on the ground. It smelled as sweet as it looked.
“It… it’s magical!” She laughed softly with delight.
“Ye like it then?” he asked, breathing a sigh of relief.
“No, I love it,” She answered, finally looking back to him and seeing a smile grow wide on his face.
“Let us have something to eat then. Are ye hungry?” He reached into a saddle bag and pulled several bags of food out.
“I’m famished! My aunt didn’a let me eat much this morning. She was preparing me for my meeting with James.” Madeleine scowled a bit and helped Fyn set up the food on the table, as he poured wine for them.
He eyed her closely. “How did the meeting go?”
Madeleine frowned and shook her head. “No’ well, at least as far as I am concerned.”
The corners of Fyn’s mouth turned down as well. “What went wrong?”
Madeleine sighed as she handed Fyn a plate of food. “Everything. He pushes me. He challenges me. He argues with me.”
“Ye dinna want a man to be that way with ye?” he asked, looking as if he already knew the answer.
Madeleine swallowed her bite and took a drink of her wine. “No’ at all. James wants a wife that he can rule over and own. He discovered that I’m fiercely independent. He called me… wild. Untamed. He determined that he wants to tame me, to break me and mold me into his idea of an obedient wife.”
“Like breaking a stallion.” Fyn looked disgusted.
“Just so,” Madeleine answered, just as dissatisfied with James’ plan.
Fyn set his plate down and took a healthy swig of his wine, biting his tongue for a moment, and then thinking better of it. “He canna dae that! Ye are no’ an animal to be bent and broken to his will!” He shook his head and peered into her eyes, seriously. “Your wild spirit, your independence, and your fire are the biggest part of the magic and beauty within ye. It’s…” He hesitated and then said it anyway. “’Tis part of what I canna resist about you.”
Madeleine set her plate down and furrowed her brow. “He wants to force it out o’ me and make me into a shell; no more than a shadow of who I am. A shadow he controls. I canna stand to let him dae it again.”
Fyn glared hotly. “Again? What did he dae to ye?”
Madeleine closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “He kissed me when I didn’a want him to. He forced it. I ken a kiss should be nothing to fash about, but it was my first kiss, and it was terrible.”
Fyn had to look away from her for a moment as he gritted his teeth, but then he turned back to her and gently took her hands in his as he spoke gently. “He stole it from ye.”
“Aye,” she answered quietly, looking at his hands.
“If he only took it by force, and ye didn’a willingly give him your kiss, then it wasn’a your first kiss.” Fyn told her with a quiet voice.
Madeleine raised her eyes to meet his and found herself lost in them. “It wasn’a?”
He shook his head. “No’ until ye give it away freely.”
Madeleine’s heart began to pound again, and she could not stop her gaze from falling from Fyn’s eyes to his mouth. He saw her and drew in a breath, raising one hand to hold her chin tenderly as he smoothed his thumb over her full lower lip. Her breath caught in her, and he heard it.
With a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “May I give ye your first kiss?”
Madeleine nodded almost imperceptibly, looking back up into Fyn’s eyes as he closed the space between them. She closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers.
He kissed her softly and slowly, savoring the feel of their lips against one another, the curve of her mouth, the taste of the wine on her, and she felt as if she was floating off of the ground where they were.
Fyn’s hand drifted from her chin along her cheek, delicately tracing the line of her jaw to her neck, where he slipped his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back slightly, moving his mouth with sensual softness against hers.
Madeleine forgot how to breathe, how to think; she forgot everything except the feel of Fyn’s lips, his gentle hand, and the heat that began to grow warmer inside of her.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, he searched her eyes, and she grew breathless, trying to regain any of her composure. “Was that what ye thought a first kiss should be?” he murmured.
She shook her head, and he looked at her, puzzled. “No’ a bit,” she answered huskily. “I had no idea it could be that mesmerizing at all.”
“Ye liked it?” He asked, one corner of his mouth rising into a half smile as the dimple in that cheek deepened.
“No.” She shook her head. “I loved it. I want more of it.” As she leaned toward him, the last thing she saw before she closed her eyes again was the look of surprise and pleasure on Fyn’s face.
He kissed her the same way again at first, but then as she wrapped her arms around his neck, he parted her lips with his and tasted her. She let go of the uncertainty in her and let his tongue guide her as she learned the feel of kissing him.
With their kisses ever deepening, and the fires within them blooming, he laid her down on her back, holding her in his arms, and she slipped her fingers up his neck and into the long black waves of his hair, turning it around her fingers, finding such pleasure in the feel of it.
Their breath grew short. His mouth left hers, beginning to wander across her cheek to her ear, then slowly down her neck as she gasped for breath and wondered how she had never had any interest in a man before.
Fyn’s hand moved to her side, cupping her breast as his thumb moved over the material covering her hardened nipple there. He trailed his heated kisses over her chest to the soft flesh near his fingers, beginning to suck lightly at the creamy skin showing above the neckline of her dress.
A soft moan escaped her, and she opened her eyes in surprise, never having heard anything like it from herself before. Fyn paused and lifted his face to look up at her.
“Are ye all right?” he asked in concern.
“Aye…” she managed to whisper. “It… it wasn’t like this at all with James.”
Fyn leaned up and kissed her lips, looking intently at her. “Ye were no’ with the right man.”
“I dinna ken it could feel like this,” she whispered as he kissed her at length again.
As the unfamiliar fires in her grew stronger, and her hands closed tighter on Fyn’s shoulders, she felt the hardness of his need against her through her skirts and gasped.
Fyn moved himself away from her and met her surprised gaze. She studied his face and smoothed her fingers through his hair. “If this is what it’s like to be kissed by you, I wonder what the rest would be like… to feel you with me… against me… inside me…” She knew she was bold to say it.
Fyn stared hard at her and groaned. Dropping his forehead to her breasts, he sighed and then lifted his eyes to meet hers.
