Highlander's Forbidden Lass (Lasses 0f Tweeddale Book 3), page 9
part #3 of Lasses 0f Tweeddale Series
“I’m still keen to go home wi’out a husband,” Madeleine admitted. “I wish I could.”
“Maybe you only believe that because you haven’t met the right one yet.” Marguerite winked at her.
For a moment, Fyn crossed Madeleine’s thoughts, and she wondered if he could be the right one, but as she was wondering it, Anne pointed out a few more eligible men and began to suggest to Madeleine that any of them could become suitable partners for her.
The friends talked amongst each other for most of the night, pausing in their conversations to dance with men or to eat and drink. James had been watching her from across the room for a short time, eyeing her hungrily when his much-elder sister-in-law went to him and spoke to him. Madeleine was relieved when she saw that James, his brother, and the Duchess all left the party together, not long after the woman had spoken to Madeleine. She hoped that it meant that the older woman would tell James that his plans for engagement would not be approved by his family, and, therefore, he would cease in his pursuit of her.
Madeleine looked for Fyn that evening, but did not see him. It wasn’t until the following day after she had enjoyed breakfast with her aunt, and Margaret had left her to go on some errands, that Madeleine saw Fyn again, though she wasn’t expecting him.
She was in the drawing room reading a book when Fyn was announced as a guest, and she hurriedly sat up and closed the book, feeling her heart pick up its pace. It seemed that the more time that passed since the last time she had seen him, the more it felt like an eternity, and the more she wanted to see him. It was confounding to her; Madeleine had never yearned to see any man before; she was always happy on her own, never aching to see anyone. But with Fyn it was different. It was as if a part of her was missing when he wasn’t around, and she couldn’t understand it at all.
Fyn was shown into the drawing room, and they were left alone. She saw an excitement and light ignite in his eyes when his gaze fell upon her. “There ye are!” He exhaled, almost in relief as she hurried to him. Without any hesitation, he swept her into his arms and held her closely to him, breathing her scent in for a moment before touching her face tenderly, his fingertips tracing her cheek before he pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her softly and slowly.
Madeleine was awash in his excitement. When his lips touched hers, the excitement gave way to warmth, and she felt as though she was melting into him, not wanting to let go or to ever stop kissing him.
After a long embrace, he finally lifted his lips from hers, and both of them, heady and breathless, let go of each other reluctantly. He smiled at her in a way that made her feel as if she had hung the moon in the night sky just for him. He took her hands in his.
“I… I’ve missed ye. Every moment away from ye has seemed so long. How can I feel this way about ye, only knowing ye a short while? It’s so powerful… so deep.” He marveled at her, and touched one of the few dark curls that lay against the side of her face, while the rest were pulled up at the back.
Madeleine shook her head as she gazed into his eyes. “I dinna ken what it might be… I feel the same about ye. I canna stop thinking of ye, and… and I’ve wanted so much to see ye.” She knew that she was bold, but she didn’t care. She would always rather be true to her heart, and she was being honest with herself and Fyn.
“I’ve no need to miss ye now though. I am here with ye.” He smiled warmly and kissed her softly once more as a sparkle shone in his sky-blue eyes.
“What’s brought ye here today?” she asked him, the excitement coming back to her as the heated embers within her stayed their hungry fires.
Fyn winked at her. “I’ve brought ye a fine stallion to ride with me. I thought ye might like to go on a hunt with me. The woods here are excellent to hunt in. I can’t imagine you’ve been out hunting much since ye came. Is that so?”
Madeleine rolled her eyes. “‘Tis! Goodness, my aunt would never let me go out hunting! She’s working to ensure that I am a refined lady of the court.”
“But that’s no’ who ye are, is it?” Fyn winked at her and pulled her to him, kissing her tantalizingly again. She grew breathless in his arms, kissing him in return. “Come with me,” he spoke huskily, his words soft and warm against her skin. “‘Tis a beautiful day, o’ercast so that it looks almost like Scotland… like home. Come hunting with me, Maddie.”
“Aye.” Madeleine felt as if she might have had too much wine to drink, she was so breathless and heady with heat and joy. “I will come!” She was glad that she hadn’t worn one of her fancier dresses that day; instead she was adorned in a lovely, but simple dress, one that would be fine for hunting.
“The horses are waiting.” Fyn beamed happily. He took her arm, and together they went outside, where she discovered that he had both steeds fully geared for the hunt, including quivers filled with arrows and two sturdy bows. Madeleine was elated.
She leapt up onto a tawny stallion and gripped the rein in her hand. Fyn mounted the chestnut stallion, and a moment later, following a shared grin, they were off, racing toward the woods and the hunt.
Madeleine slowed her steed when they got into the woods and looked over at Fyn who was watching her intently. She motioned silently to a brushy area near them, and he turned to see what she was indicating. A regal looking stag was nibbling contentedly at the new leaves of a bush there. She looked back at Fyn, and he pointed to her. The stag would be hers to take, if she could get it.
Fyn watched her, transfixed, as she silently drew an arrow and stretched it at length within her bow. She watched and waited, her breath locked in her lungs, until the stag turned his head just so, and Madeleine let loose her arrow. It zipped silently through the air, and the stag’s ears only flickered a moment at the coming sound before he fell to the earth, still.
“He’s magnificent!” Fyn beamed at her happily. “You’re quite a skilled archer!” He couldn’t have been more impressed.
“Aye. My father taught me.” She nodded, thinking of her father and missing him terribly then. “Ye should see me with a sword, though.” Madeleine laughed as they dismounted their horses and went to retrieve the stag.
Once the stag was loaded onto the chestnut stallion, they went together to a river to wash their hands and clean themselves up. “Will ye no’ be hunting anything today?” Madeleine asked, eyeing Fyn interestedly.
“I’ve already gotten my quarry.” He flirted with her, kissing her softly as they leaned over the water. “Besides, I dinna think we will be getting anything finer than the stag ye brought down.”
Madeleine’s cheeks warmed as she blushed slightly, and she wondered at what it was that made her react that way to him. She noticed that he was so busy watching her, that he wasn’t paying any attention to his footing.
“Oh! Fyn, watch out, you’re-” she didn’t even finish warning him about the mossy rocks he was too close to before he slipped on them and went headfirst into the cold water. He shot up a moment later, gasping and wide-eyed as she drew in a sharp breath, feeling the icy droplets rain down on her.
“Are ye alright?” she asked, laughing as she saw him begin to shake the water off of his arms and hands. He stood waist deep in it.
“Aye,” he told her, laughing a bit himself. “Ye think it’s funny dae ye?” He held a hand out to her. “Well give me a hand up to the bank, please.”
Madeleine reached her hand out to him, and he took it as she continued to laugh. He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head. Without another word, he gave her a yank, and she went straight into his arms, where he sunk a little lower into the water, dousing her in it as she shrieked and laughed, holding fast to him.
Fyn roared with laughter and held her in his arms as she gained her footing before him, the river eddying around them gently. She gave him a playful shove. “I can’t believe ye pulled me in!”
He only shook his head. “I canna dae without ye.” He chuckled as he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her, long and sweetly. The sweetness dissolved into longing and breathless desire as the heat in them ignited from their mouths and tempted them further with every passing moment. It was a while before he let her go, their hearts racing, their lips swollen with hunger and the flush of blood.
“Come,” he said quietly, his voice deep and strange. “We have to get ye out o’ this water. I’ll no’ have ye getting sick.”
Fyn lifted her easily and carried her out, careful to avoid the mossy stones that had sent him in head first to begin with. Once on the ground, he set her down and walked away from her, trying to steady his breath. She watched him, curious about the way he was putting some distance between them.
“Are ye upset with me?” She asked, concerned about what might have changed in the water while they were kissing.
He shook his head and turned to face her. “No. I’m no’ at all upset with ye. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“What is it, then?” she asked, setting her hands on her hips as she stood beside her steed.
He stared hard at her; her eyes, her mouth, and for a swift moment, her body, before glancing away. “Ye have me in a difficult place. I want so much to be around ye, but then when I’m close to ye, I canna get enough of ye, and everything about ye makes me want more of ye.” He walked slowly toward her and met her eyes as he took the reins from her hand.
“I dinna want ye to tempt me too much. Not yet.” He seemed almost to hold his breath as he mounted her stallion and then reached his hand down to her. Madeleine looked up at him in surprise and then let him help her up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek in the space between his shoulders, thinking on what he had said to her. She felt herself wanting him as well, and she knew that she should want no man until she was wed, only giving herself to her husband. It was the way of her family and clan. She realized that Fyn was right, and though they were attracted to one another, they should stop playing with a fire that seemed to be building with every touch, before it got out of control.
Chapter Eleven
Fyn secured the other stallion’s reins to his saddle as it carried the stag, and they rode back to the estate together. Once in the stables, the stable master took the horses to care for them as well as the stag, and Fyn and Madeleine went into the house. She took him to her chamber, and they were glad to find a roaring fire waiting for them in the room. The chamber maid brought them wine, food, and a robe for Fyn, and left them.
“Ye can lay your clothes alongside mine out before the fire to dry them. Ye can change into the robe, and I’ll wait behind the screen.” She motioned to a dressing screen and gave him a little smile. “I’ll change too. Then we can eat together.”
Madeleine went behind the screen and began to tug herself out of the wet dress she was wearing. It was only a minute before she was stuck in it, and no amount of turning, pulling, or struggling could get her free.
“Dae ye need some help?” Fyn’s voice came soft and deep, just on the other side of the screen.
Madeleine’s eyes grew wide, and she bit at her lower lip and held her breath for a moment. She hated to admit it, but she knew she wouldn’t get out of the dress without some kind of help.
“Aye… please,” she answered quietly.
Fyn came around the screen gradually, and as he did, the look of apprehension on his face gave way to a small smile. She turned her back to him and felt her heart nearly jump out of her. “The ribbons in the back of your dress are wet and knotted,” he told her as he reached for them, beginning to work at them gently. It took a small while, but they were finally loosed, and Madeleine stood almost breathless as Fyn’s fingers slowly pulled the ribbons free of their loopholes. He gently pushed the dress from her body, leaving her in nothing but her shift. It was little more than a bodice from her breasts to her knees. With her dress piled at her feet, there was nothing but the thin, wet material over her body, clinging to her skin.
Madeleine felt Fyn’s fingertips move gradually over the back of her neck to the rounded curves of her bare shoulders. Heat began to burn in the depths of her, and she could find no breath in herself, nor draw any in. She heard and felt the warmth of his breath at her neck, just behind her ear as his hands closed firmly on her arms for a moment, “I want to take this off of ye as well, but I think ye can manage it.”
With that, he turned and left her, and she closed her eyes and did all that she could to steady herself from the wave of desire that swept through her. It was new to her, and her fingers trembled with uncertainty as she pulled the wet shift off and slipped into her dry robe. When she emerged from behind the screen, she saw Fyn standing before the fire in his own robe, his clothes draped over some chairs near the flames. She put her own dress and shift there beside his, and went to the wine, forcing herself to do some mundane, simple task while she worked to steady the tension and heat within herself.
Madeleine brought him a goblet of wine, and he tasted it and then turned to look at her intently. “I must ask ye… I must know. Will ye be wed to James?”
She blinked at him in surprise. “What?” She hadn’t expected the question from him at all, and it caught her off guard.
“Ye know that I want ye, but… ye dinna ken how much. It’s strange to me; we’ve only just met, but I have ne’er met anyone with your fire, your passion and strength. Ye are a woman unlike any other, and ye need to know that I want ye. I ken he wants ye too, but I canna lose ye, and I will no’ lose ye to a man like James. I am falling in love with ye, and I want ye to be mine. If ye are going to wed James, then I must leave and ne’er see ye again, before I lose myself to ye completely, but if ye are no’ to wed him, then be mine. Tell me ye want me too, and be my wife.” His eyes remained steady on hers, locked there as he waited, still and barely breathing for her reply.
“Ye want to… to marry me?” Madeleine asked in amazement, realizing that there could well be an entirely new possibility for herself and her future.
“Aye. Very much.” Fyn drained his goblet of wine and set it down, taking Madeleine’s hands in his. “There’s something that ye must know about me first…” he told her earnestly, searching her eyes as he struggled to say it, “but if ye will overlook this one thing and give your life to me, then I promise ye that I will love ye always, and no one but ye.”
Madeleine’s mind was spinning. Emotion flooded through her as she felt tears stinging her eyes, and she tried to swallow them back. “I… I thought I was going to have to marry a man I felt cold for; one I could no’ love, nor who would love me back, but now ye tell me that ye are falling in love with me, and that I could be your wife!”
Fyn watched her, waiting, as he held her hands in his. Madeleine nodded happily. “Aye… I will marry ye, for I am falling in love with ye too, and it doesn’a matter what ye might have to tell me, what small thing ye think I should know. I want to marry ye too, Fyn Stewart. Yes, I will be your wife!”
He hesitated a moment, looking as if he was going to say something to her, but joy and happiness washed through him, and he laughed for a moment and took her into his embrace, kissing her as he held her close against him.
“I couldn’a bear the thought of ye marrying James, of losing ye to any other man. I will speak with your aunt, and we will be engaged. Ye will be my wife.” Fyn kissed her passionately, parting her lips and tasting her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him in return, feeling the fires within her begin to burn brightly.
“I will be a good husband to ye, Maddie, I promise ye that.” He told her between kisses as his breath grew shorter.
Madeleine lifted her lips from his for a moment to look him in the eyes. “Nothing here in France makes me feel as free as ye do. I will be a good wife to ye as well.” With that, she kissed him again, and let her fingers run through the tousle of dark hair on his head.
His hands moved over her back to her shoulders and he stopped kissing her for a moment. “Take your hair down. Let me see it all around ye,” he whispered.
With trembling fingers, she reached for the pins in her hair, sliding each one free and letting it fall to the floor as her curls cascaded down around her, and all the while, she watched his eyes and saw his lips part as he stared at her.
When it was all down, he reached his fingertips to it and touched it, winding them down the curls around her face to the side of her covered breast where he stopped. “Ye are so beautiful. I could ne’er dream up a woman as beautiful as ye.”
He closed his mouth over hers again, and Madeleine kissed him without inhibition, wanting nothing more than to give in to the heat blazing through her body, telling her that everything she wanted, everything she needed was right there in her arms.
She had never reacted to any man the way that she was reacting to him; wanting him so much that the wanting became a need, desperate and hungry, and all the while, not really knowing what it was that she needed from him.
“Touch me,” she whispered, letting go of him and parting her robe, slowly opening it to him. “Take me to my bed and touch me. Make love with me.”
