Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, Jamie and Madeline were quiet as they exited the stables, both nervous for very different reasons.

After a few miles of ambling along, however, they found their stride – both on their mounts and in conversation, once Madeline allowed herself to think her outburst the day before was truly forgotten between them.

They spoke easily as they trotted along – of the estate, of Bath, of their families, and of the latest news coming out from Europe. Madeline found Jamie well spoken and well versed in nearly every subject (admittedly, he was a bit lost when it came to women’s fashions), an engaging and interesting companion to talk to.

Which made him just so much more perfect, she mused, ducking to avoid a low slung branch.

Lord Carrington, though, wasn’t so lucky.

One minute they were chatting pleasantly, and before Madeline could blink twice, Jamie had been thrown to the ground, a trickle of blood at his temple.

“Oh my god,” Madeline breathed, dismounting in a flurry of skirts and scurrying to his side. Lord Carrington lay prone on the ground, his eyes closed and with a slice across his temple where a branch had clearly unseated him. “Lord Carrington? Lord Carrington!” Madeline pleaded, laying her hands against the cut and shaking him slightly to awake him.

After the longest twenty seconds of her life, his eyes flicked open and focused unsteadily on her. “What…” he winced as he moved his head. “What happened?”

“A branch knocked you to the ground, my lord, and you’ve cut your head. Just lay still for a moment, let me try and stop the bleeding…” Madeline pressed her glove against his temple for a few more seconds, even as Jamie sought out her other hand and held it in both of his, a gesture they both seemed to take comfort in.
“You’re like an angel,” he breathed and she smiled softly.

“That branch must have hit you harder than we thought if you think that,” she said lightly, and he laughed, and then winced again. “Can you sit up? The bleeding seems to have slowed.”

With a bit of a struggle, Jamie sat up, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block out the spinning of the woods around them. Another long moment later, and he stood unsteadily on his feet, his eyes shooting to his mount. “Is he hurt?”

“Not at all, my lord,” Madeline said as they both eyed the stallion. “You took the fall alone. Can you ride back to the house?”

Jamie took stock of his body – nothing felt broken, but his mind seemed to be sloshing around in his skull a bit. Perhaps a ride wasn’t what he needed right now, as he feared his brain might slide right out of his ears. Looking around, he determined their position on the estate and shook his head, then winced. Again.

“I don’t think I’m able to ride, but we aren’t far from the folly on the grounds. Perhaps if I could just rest there for a while…”

Madeline nodded then grabbed the reins of both horses and matched Jamie’s slow pace along the path. “Are you sure you can walk that far, my lord?”

“As long as we move no faster than this,” Jamie said, and swaying only slightly, led the way towards the stone folly.

Moments later, they emerged from the tree line and Madeline spied the marble folly, nestled in the trees, looking out over a small, still lake. She breathed in deeply, enchanted with the beautiful and secluded spot.
Carefully, she helped Jamie up the steps, the folly a classically domed rotunda building, styled after the Greek temples of eons ago. Dodging the portico’s columns, she managed to wedge the door open and helped Jamie inside.

The inside was painted a vivid blue, and featured several comfortable chaises, a worn rug in the center of the floor, and several blankets to ward off the chill. She spied a stack of books along one wall, a bottle of brandy and several glasses beside it. It was truly cozy and lovely inside, she mused as she closed the door behind them.

“Here, my lord, sit down,” she said, guiding him gently to a chaise. Jamie went without argument, sinking down heavily with a slight groan. “I’ll fetch you a brandy.”

After taking a fortifying sip, Jamie raised his head. “That’s better. Thank you, Lady Madeline.”

“I’m just sorry you were hurt at all,” Madeline said regretfully.

“Nonsense,” Jamie said. “It takes a lot more than a fall from a horse to hurt me.”

“Oh yes, I forgot. You’re a larger than life war hero,” Madeline quipped, nipping a sip of brandy from her own glass.

“I am indeed,” Jamie said with a grin.

“This is a lovely spot. I imagine you used to seek refuge here?” Madeline asked, looking around the room.

“Quite often before I left for France,” Jamie agreed. “I always thought of it as my spot, something no one else knew existed. Many times I would hide away here, lost in my own thoughts, in my books, escaping the world outside.”

Madeline nodded. “I never knew it was here. In the times we visited your estate as children, I don’t recall ever seeing it.”

Jamie smiled, remembering Madeline as a tow-headed child, chasing after he and Fitz, wanting to be part of their games.

And now, she was sitting near him, an enchanting pixie, the tow-headed child long gone.

“What are you smiling at, sir?” Madeline inquired, noting his expression.

“Just remembering us as children here,” Jamie said. “Those were some of the happiest times of my life.”

“Are you not happy now, my lord?”

“Life is very different now,” he admitted. “And I’m a different man than I was then.”

“And yet, still clumsy.”

Jamie chuckled, and Madeline smiled, teasing him. After a long pause, she spoke again. “Did you see horrible things? In France during the war? You always become so introspective when you mention it, as though it weighs heavily on you.”

“I did see horrible things. And I’m ashamed of my part in some of them, and proud of others,” he said quietly, and she nodded again, seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry,” she said, embarrassed by her questioning.

“Not at all,” Jamie quieted her. “Sometimes, it’s nice to be able to talk about it with someone.”

Some of it, he thought darkly. Madeline must never know of his darkest secret from that time – and his darkest passion.

“Well, I am always ready to listen if you need a willing ear, my lord,” she said and he smiled tenderly at her.
“Thank you,” he said, and then winced as he rotated his head slightly, his head thudding slightly.

“Are you quite all right?” Madeline asked, worry in her voice. She closed the distance between them, until they were sitting thigh to thigh on the narrow chaise. “Let me see that cut.”

He angled his head towards her obediently, and watched her eyes as she gently touched the skin around his cut, her fingers barely brushing his skin. Her eyes held a mixture of worry and tenderness, and he felt himself warm from the inside out at her concern and closeness.

Without thought, he raised his hand and covered hers with his, tugging it down and lacing their fingers together, and then laying them against his thigh. Taking a breath, he leaned forward and gently brushed his lips to hers.

Her felt, rather than heard, her small squeak of surprise, and pressed his lips to hers again, swallowing the sound, and this time, he heard her tiny moan of delight and compliance. After a moment, he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, and her lips parted slightly, allowing him entrance.

He could feel her trembling at the kiss, and brought his other palm to her cheek as though to still her shivering, never breaking the kiss between them. One kiss became another, and then another, and Jamie lost all track of time as he explored her mouth, his hands aching to touch her curves, his breeches becoming painfully taut.
He would swear, if he opened his eyes, lightning flashes of attraction would be bolting between them, dancing around the room around them.

His eyes remained closed, however, as he shifted to bring his body closer to Madeline, his hand dropping from her cheek to her shoulder, and then he so wanted to move it lower…

An image of Amiens flashed across his mind as he felt Madeline press herself closer to him, willing for his touch, and he pulled back suddenly, breaking the kiss and practically bolting from the chaise.

She merely looked at him as he stood above her, her lips bruised and full, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

He couldn’t do this. He mustn’t do this. She was all that was goodness and light, and he…

He could never be goodness and light, not when what he wanted was so dark.

“I…” He swallowed thickly, willing the blood flow back to his brain instead of his breeches. “I should not have done that, my lady.”

Madeline said nothing, merely watched him.

“It was wrong.”

She continued to watch him, her expression serene.

“Forgive me, my lady.”

She stood then, calmly brushing her skirts with her hands, then standing tall in his shadow. “There is nothing to forgive, my lord. I have wished for that for some time, and somehow, I think you have too.” Her eyes flicked to the front of his pants where his erection was still painfully pressed to the seam, though he could have sworn he imagined it.

He was shocked by her boldness of speech, and took a step back, needing to put space between them. “What I wish is of no concern. I should not have pressed myself onto you in that manner.”

“So you admit it?”

“Admit what?” he asked, confused by her question.

“That you wish it?” Madeline asked, her voice a mere whisper.

Jamie squeezed his eyes shut, taking another step back, putting more distance between them. “I wish you no disrespect, my lady.”

“Answer the question, my lord,” Madeline asked, her voice suddenly steely.

“I…”

“Answer me.”

Oh god…

Another flash of Amiens came to mind, Yvette’s voice echoing in his mind, that same commanding tone, telling him, no, ordering him to…

He shook the vision away, then met Madeline’s gaze squarely. “Yes. I have wished it. I have wished it since the moment I saw you at the Abbey in Bath. But that does not mean it will happen again. It should not, and will not.”

“My lord…” Madeline took a step forward, still watching him. “I have wished for it as well.”

“And now it is done,” Jamie said, suddenly not trusting his voice. “And because of my respect for you and your brother and the memory of your father, I beg your forgiveness and assure it will not happen again. Shall we return to the house?” He asked, quickly striding across the room despite the pounding in his skull and wrenching the door open.

“But what if I want it to happen again?” He thought he heard her say softly as her footfalls followed his down the steps.

But he must have misheard her, he convinced himself. No lady of such standing and elegance as Lady Madeline would reduce herself to stolen kisses in a folly.

They walked back to Rotherham House in silence, Jamie making sure that several yards and two horses were between them at all times.

He had been enchanted by the pixie, he thought, almost angrily.

And now that he’d had a taste, he ached for more.


20013/50000