Highlanders forbidden la.., p.14
Highlander's Forbidden Lass (Lasses 0f Tweeddale Book 3), page 14
part #3 of Lasses 0f Tweeddale Series
Madeleine gasped and her hand flew to her mouth as she gaped in horror at the sight before her. “Fyn!” she cried out in shock.
Chapter Seventeen
Fyn stood before Madeleine looking as though he had been dragged a long way; his clothes were tattered, and he was badly beaten up. His face was swollen, and there were scrapes and bruises all over him. He leaned more on one leg than the other, favoring it to ease some of his pain.
Madeleine saw the anguish in his face dissolve when their eyes met. He looked as if much of his troubled mind found peace just at the sight of her. She stared at him. “What happened to ye?”
Fyn gave his head a shake. “I was on my way to the castle to stop your engagement, but…” he paused and eyed her closely. “I was unavoidably delayed. Tell me. Are ye engaged now?”
Madeleine nodded. “Aye. I am.” She couldn’t believe that she was looking at him or that he was in such a state. “Have ye sent the Stewart clan to go and help my father?” she asked, knowing that she had come last for him, but perhaps he had at least remained true to his word to help her family.
Fyn shook his head. “No. I have no’ done it yet.”
Madeleine took hold of the door and drew in a deep breath. “I can see now how much I truly mean to ye. There is no reason for ye to be here any longer.”
His hand shot out, and he stopped her from closing the door. “No! Wait! Ye are making a mistake! I love ye! Truly! James will be the worst decision ye ever make!” His voice was urgent, and his eyes wide as panic shot through him at the realization that he had lost the woman he loved.
“He will no’ be a mistake. He will help my family, now, when they need it. It’s my choice to marry him, and I agreed to it. I will dae it. I have to choose my family over my heart. There can be nothing between ye and I any longer!” She felt a tightness in her throat as tears stung the back of her eyes.
Fyn took a labored step toward the door insistently. “No! Maddie, I will no’ give up on ye!”
“‘Tis too late!” She swallowed hard to choke back her tears and emotions. Her heart was breaking in two, and seeing him there, so close, trying to win her back, made it all the more difficult to push him away.
“It’s no’ too late!” he insisted, coming into the doorway. “Dinna throw away a love so strong and pure as ours! Dinna send me away! Tell me this, Maddie… tell me ye dinna love me, and I will leave ye to your high borne man. Tell me!”
Madeleine could not say it. She couldn’t even think it. Instead, she turned and fled from him, going to her chamber and closing the door behind her. She ran to her bed and laid on it, weeping miserably.
Moments later, a strong hand closed over her shoulder, pulling her up to her feet, and she found herself looking into his eyes. “Ye canna say it to me because ye love me still, more than ye did before, and ye still want me.” He closed his fingers tenderly around her cheeks and lifted her mouth, gazing into her eyes.
“I love ye, Maddie, and I am no’ going to let ye go. I will no’ lose ye. Ye swore to be my wife, and ye will be.” He closed his lips on hers, and as he kissed her, her inhibitions, anger, and pain began to drain from her, and she felt the familiar burn of need for him rising in her like a phoenix. Their kisses deepened, and in moments he loosed her dress from her, leaving her standing in her shift as his hands moved over it, caressing her body through the material. She pushed herself away from him, shaking her head as she looked up into his stormy, sea-blue eyes. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and her lips swollen from his hungry kisses.
“Ye have to stop! I canna make love with ye! I am engaged to marry another! Ye should no’ even be here!” Madeleine tried to pull away from him, but his arms around her were solid.
He looked hard at her. “Dae ye love me?” He asked insistently.
Madeleine could not deny it. “Aye.” She admitted in misery, tears welling in her eyes again.
“Then dinna give up on me. I love ye, and I want ye. I am no’ willing to let ye go. Ye will be my wife. Ye might be engaged to him now, but we will find a way out of this for ye, and ye will be freed. And I… I will make love with ye if ye want me. Ye dinna belong to him yet, ye are still a free woman, and ye are still my woman.”
Fyn slipped his hand beneath her chemise and moved his fingers between her thighs, massaging her firmly and entering her with them as he kissed her passionately. She moaned deeply and her fingers closed tight over his shoulders as her heart began to race.
Lifting his lips, his eyes searched hers as his fingertips continued to move over and inside of her. “Dae ye want me? Here and now… dae ye?”
There was almost no breath in her at all, and every bit of resistance against him had gone from her. “Yes…” She barely managed to whisper. In a moment he pulled the chemise from her, as well as his own clothes, and he laid her back in her bed, his body warm and solid against hers as he held her close and kissed her hungrily.
She parted her thighs for him, knowing that she shouldn’t, but ignoring it for the simple truth that she had never needed him more than she did then. He pushed his erection into her, filling her, and leaving no room in her for any thought other than him as they began to rock together, their arms holding one another tightly, their lips finding solace and passion with each other.
They made love a long while, and when he finally let her go, when the desires in both of them were sated, he laid back with her against her pillows and cradled her against the wall of his chest, kissing her forehead and her fingertips gently.
“I canna believe ye came here today and…” She trailed off, closing her eyes for a moment as the reality of their actions came to the forefront of her mind like a storm on the horizon. “I am engaged to James! This canna ever happen again! Ye must let me go,” she whispered the last of it to him, not wanting to speak it, but knowing that it must be said. It wrenched her heart, but she knew that it had to be the last time.
Fyn shook his head and looked intently into her eyes. “No! I will no’ let ye go. Ye are going to be my wife. I dinna care what James or the King of France says. We are Scots, ye and I, and we are able to wed each other if we choose, and I choose ye! I am sorry I could no’ be there to stop the engagement, but I will go to the engagement party tomorrow and stop it there! It’s no’ too late! We can dae this, and then I will send word to my family to help restore peace between the clans. I promise ye that. I swear to ye. It will be done.”
Madeleine smiled a little as tears filled her eyes. She had trusted him before and been let down. She was afraid to trust him again, but her heart wanted nothing more than to believe him and every word he said to her. She knew if there was even a chance that it could be true, she wanted it. “All right. I will look for ye tomorrow at the engagement party. If ye come, if ye stop my engagement, if ye help my family as ye have sworn to dae, I will be your wife.”
Fyn grinned and kissed her long and sweetly, and then he moved himself between her legs again, hard with need for her. His hands moved over her body, and they lost themselves in each other once again.
* * *
James was sitting at the desk in his drawing room when the door opened and closed softly. He looked up and sighed heavily when he saw the pale little blonde rushing toward him. Leaning back in his chair, he shook his head and dropped his arms to his lap.
“Francie, what are you doing here?” he asked with a tone of annoyance.
She came to his side and knelt beside his chair at his feet, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “What do you mean why am I here? I want you, my love. You know how I want to be with you! I’ve come to ask of you… no… to beg of you! Please, my love, please, stop this engagement to that ridiculous Scottish woman! You have me! I am the best woman for you, not her! She isn’t even French! How can you even consider it?”
The ire in James flared, and he leaned forward, grabbing tightly to her wrist. “It’s what I want! I am not going to break the engagement! I want her to be my wife. She will be my wife, and there is no more to be said about it!”
He vaulted up from his chair and took a few steps away from her, but she followed him, standing before him as she planted her hands flat on his chest.
“I love nothing in the world so much as you, James! I need you! I am not going to let any other woman have you!” Francie insisted. Her eyes grew wide with determination. “No woman in this world loves you as I do, and I’ll show you just how much!”
With swift fingers, she pulled his pants free of him, and closed her mouth over him, making him groan with pleasure. He looked down at her in irritation at first, thinking he would stop her, but as she took him deeper down her throat, he grew intoxicated with the pleasure, and he began to move in her mouth, pressing his hands to the back of her head as he closed his eyes and imagined that it was Madeleine on her knees at his feet. As his passion mounted, he felt the need for more. He pulled Francie to her feet and hauled her to his desk where he bent her over the front of it and flung her skirts out of his way.
James grinned as he thrust himself into her, holding tightly to her hips as he fantasized that it was his fiancé taking the heat of his lust, rather than the girl before him. The harder he rammed himself into her, the hotter he grew, until at last he cried out loudly, and his body shuddered with release. As he collected his breath and his heart began to slow, he pulled himself from Francie and closed his pants over himself once more.
Francie adjusted her skirts and turned to look at him with the same pleading eyes. “Don’t I please you? Wouldn’t you rather have me for the rest of your life? You know that I would do anything for you. Anything at all.”
James shook his head. “You let me use you. There’s nothing else I want from you. All I want is Madeleine, and I’m going to have her. This meant nothing to me, and it should mean nothing to you.”
“It means everything to me!” Francie cried out forlornly. “You can’t send me away! What if I’m carrying your baby?” She closed a hand over her belly.
James glared at her. “I won’t claim your bastard child if you’re pregnant. How would I even know if it was mine? Who knows how many men you open your legs for!”
“You know that’s not true! You are the only man I love, the only man I want!” She reached out for him, but he turned his back on her.
“Leave me, and do not come back again.” His warning tone left no room for her argument.
Francie ran from the room, and down one of the halls, stopping against a wall as she wept bitterly. Her tears did not last long. She raised her head and set her mouth in a thin line as determination swept over her.
The young woman rode in her carriage a short distance and came to a great manor. There she was welcomed into a parlor, where an old woman sat having tea.
“Duchess Louise, thank you for seeing me. I must speak with you.” She drew near the older woman and sat beside her.
“What is it, child?” Louise asked, eyeing the young woman closely.
“It’s about James. We have to stop the engagement,” Francie pleaded desperately.
Louise set her cup of tea down. “I’ve tried to stop it, but I suspect that it’s too late. James will not reconsider. More to the point, the king has ordered it, and as much as I don’t want it to happen, I’m sure that it will.”
Francie shook her head adamantly. “No! I know how to stop it.”
Chapter Eighteen
It seemed to Madeleine as if a swarm of women were moving around her, weaving in and out of each other, each of them like bees taking little bits of her pollen, as if she were a flower that needed tending.
She had been in a melancholy mood since Fyn had left her the afternoon before. They had shared such fires in each other’s arms, but she was not fully confident that he would come to the engagement party, that he would stop her marriage to James, and that he would send help to her family as he had promised. Part of her hoped that he would, but there was a part of her that hoped that her marriage to James would go through. She knew that James would do anything to please her, including helping her family fight clan Arthur. She didn’t love him, but after talking with the Duchess de Clermont, she wasn’t entirely sure that love was an important factor in a marriage, especially if it was a marriage to a man as powerful and well connected as James de Crussol.
More than all of that, she wished that there were no men in her life, and that she was back home at Inveraray Castle, riding through her beloved Scottish Highlands, brushing her sister’s hair, caring for her horse, battling with her cousins in practice, or sitting and helping her father with the details of the clan and his lairdship. It had been her life, and she missed it sorely. She knew that if she married James, she would rarely, if ever, see her precious highlands again, and it left her feeling as hollow as a shell on the beach, washed in by a tide she did not control and left to the whims of fate.
As she stared at her reflection in the looking glass, standing there in her gold and green gown, her hair and makeup done to perfection, looking like a princess, she could not stop the hot tears that filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Margaret, who was still fussing over her, saw the tears and stopped fluffing the gown. She took Madeleine’s hands in hers, eyeing her with sympathy.
“Whatever is the matter, darling?” she asked, a frown on her face.
Madeleine grew bitter. “There is nothing that I wouldn’a give to live in a world no’ ruled by men or their horrible whims and rules, their sanctimonious laws! A world where women had complete freedom and choice with their lives!”
Margaret sighed and nodded. “Mon cherie, many women wish for that, but it has seldom been, and probably never will be. This is the world we live in, here and now, and it is the world that we must adapt ourselves to, changing it when we have the chance to, which is nearly never.”
“That does no’ stop me from wishing with everything in me that ‘twas different.” Madeleine scowled unhappily.
Margaret hugged her gently and the two of them, along with what Madeleine thought must have been every woman in her aunts employ, finished getting her ready for her engagement party at the castle.
Madeleine had never seen so many people at the French court before. There were a few faces which had become familiar to her over her short time in France, but most of them were strangers to her. It felt surreal to be surrounded by so many people she didn’t know, and have all of them there to celebrate a marriage that she wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to go through with.
Claudine, Marie, Anne, and Marguerite came to her and hugged her tightly, each of them eyeing her knowingly.
“How are you doing, Maddie?” Marguerite asked worriedly. “Are you still against the marriage?”
Madeleine sighed and her shoulders fell. At least around her friends she could be at ease. “I’m no’ sure how I’m feeling. ‘Tis such a strange place to be. Here with people I dinna know, all of them celebrating my marriage to a man I dinna ken if I want to marry. It feels wrong, like everything is a tangle that I canna get out of.”
Claudine hugged her. “I’m so sorry. I hope that everything gets better for you soon. Maybe you’ll feel better about the marriage after the ceremony. You must be so nervous about it now, but that will change once it’s passed.”
Marie glanced around at the sea of faces surrounding them. “Don’t worry about any of these people. They aren’t here for you, they’re here to be seen by each other, being present at an important event. They aren’t concerned with you one bit.”
“I think she is.” Anne nodded toward the other side of the room where Francine stood shooting daggers out of her eyes at Madeleine and her friends.
“She’s just mad because she didn’t get James.” Claudine waved her hand dismissively.
“Oh! Look, there’s Fyn and Jacques!” Marguerite grinned happily, waving subtly at Jacques and giving him a special smile.
Madeleine’s heart leapt into her chest and hope filled her as she watched Fyn walk into the room. He looked much better than he had the day before; dressed well and carefully polished up for the big day, though his injuries stood out considerably.
Catherine de Medici clapped her hands at the center of the room, and the cacophony of voices settled into silence. She smiled and gestured to Madeleine, standing with her friends, and James, who had just walked into the room. James went straight for Madeleine, taking her hand in his as he approached Catherine and King Charles, who was standing beside her.
King Charles lifted his goblet of wine. “The court of King Charles welcomes and celebrates the marriage of James II of Crussol, and Lady Madeleine Campbell. The wedding will commence in one week’s time. Today, we feast in their honor!”
Cheers and congratulations sounded around the room, but one voice rose above the rest, and everyone turned to see the Duchess Louise de Clermont as she made her way across the room to James and Madeleine.
