Chapter Fourteen
M arie's heart was breaking. She stood there in a beautiful dress faced with her friend, her former employers, and the man for whom she cared. But was so embarrassed, she wished she might open up a hole in the ground and die. The feathers of her beautiful, white mask littered the ground as Mrs. Campbell stamped on it under her feet.
Marie turned to Mrs. Martin, who stared at her as if she had been offended by a stranger. "Mrs. Martin, you see…"
" Mon dieu . Why do you not tell them they are wrong? Have I been deceived, all this time?"
"Yes. She is nothing but a servant, straight from the gutter," Miss Campbell said, smirking.
Marie stared at her. How could she repay her kindness with such cruelty? Had she no sense of right and wrong?
To Marie, Mrs. Campbell said, "Well? Has a cat got your tongue? Apologize to your betters, right now. I have a mind to speak to your employer myself and demand your dismissal. How could you, Mary, go around posing as a lady? To think, I let you stay in my home. And this is how you repay our generosity. The insufferable insolence of it all."
Marie felt tears come to her eyes. She blinked hard. Her tongue was like stone.
"Marie? You are my friend. Please, tell me she is wrong. Tell me it is not true, that you are not what she says," Mrs. Martin said quietly, ignoring the many stares they were receiving. "You are a lady, I know it."
Lieutenant Gage reached for Marie's hand, but she kept it from him. He said, "Miss Cadeaux. Mrs. Martin—"
" Non . I will hear the truth of her myself. Let the girl speak, damn you," Mrs. Martin said, her eyes blazing. "Well?"
Marie swallowed and she blinked away tears as she met Mrs. Martin's eyes. "It is true. I am a servant. I have been working here for a few weeks now. When Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked me to speak a little French to you in the evenings—"
"My God. So I am a charity case and a project for your employer? I have never felt so humiliated in all my life. I am leaving." Mrs. Martin strode away, pushing past others.
"Mrs. Martin, wait!" Marie called after her, but her friend was gone. All that was left was a crowd of gossiping onlookers, watching, no doubt hoping to see the first tears fall.
Lieutenant Gage reached for her again, begging with his eyes for her to let him take her away from all this. But she refused with a hard shake of her head.
Marie looked at Miss Campbell, who opened up a fan and hid her snide smile behind it.
"This was your plan all along," Marie said.
"No, but it worked out nicely. Don't let me stop you. I'm sure there are scullery boys who would be glad of your company." Miss Campbell grinned.
Marie stared at her former childhood acquaintance and employer's daughter. With a sentence, she could oust Miss Campbell and reveal her sullied reputation to the world. She could ruin her in the eyes of society. She could stoop to the Campbells' level. She could…
She couldn't do it. A tear coursed down her cheek, and she fled. She ran, ignoring Lieutenant Gage's calls after her. She hurried through the assembly, slipping around dancing couples and darting around others, men and women drinking, laughing, smiling and enjoying themselves. She ran up the stairwell and kept going, even when her dancing shoes slipped off in her hurry. She trailed feathers as she ran and went to where she thought no one would find her.
She slipped inside an empty guest room and shut the door, collapsing on the floor. She cried and cried, tears streaking down her cheeks. Her cries were drowned out by the sounds of the merrymaking downstairs, and she wept at the hurt, pain and embarrassment of it all. Her friend, Mrs. Martin, now no longer trusted her at all. The man she loved—
Marie paused. She loved? She loved Lieutenant Gage? She blinked. She hadn't realized it until just that moment. She wanted him, that much was certain. But did her feelings really lean toward love, when she knew so little about him? She wanted to know his tastes, his desires, his whims and fancies. She wanted to meet his family and hope to God they liked her. She wanted to push the long hair out of his face and kiss away his pain.
Her eyes watered again as she hugged her knees to her chest and whimpered. Now everyone knew she was just a servant, a nobody. Mrs. Campbell would no doubt complain to Mrs. Dove-Lyon and get her dismissed, and she would be out on the street by morning. She sobbed and when there was a knock at the door, she scrambled away. "W-Who is it?" she asked.
"Miss Cadeaux? It's me." Lieutenant Gage opened the door a crack. His eyes widened at the sight of her and he quickly walked in and shut the door. He knelt by her. "Are you all right?"
She shook her head. "No. How can I when Miss Campbell has her hands all over you? I saw her grab your arm as I left. She seemed to be enjoying dancing with you."
"I did not enjoy dancing with her."
"Because she knows the steps?"
He snorted softly. "No. Because she is not you."
She looked up at him. His blue eyes were kind and warm.
"I do not care for Miss Campbell," he said. "Her mother is going around telling everyone who will listen about you, but she's made a mistake," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone here is intending on enjoying the party. By creating a disturbance, she's bringing the mood down. No one wants that. They also don't trust that she isn't spreading idle gossip, when this is the place for secrets to be safely hidden. The footmen have already alerted Mrs. Dove-Lyon and she's been asked to leave."
"She has?"
"Her and her daughter."
"But I thought… Lieutenant, what am I to do? I wanted to tell Mrs. Martin, but I never had the courage. And now she knows the truth." A tear ran down her cheek.
He reached forward and rubbed it away with his thumb. "Don't cry." He kissed her hand. "You're beautiful, even when you cry."
She gave a little laugh-sob. "Now I know you must be teasing. I look a fright, I'm sure." She gave a little shudder and he pulled her close. She cried into his chest. "Now Mrs. Martin won't like me and won't want to see me anymore. She'll think I'm a fraud, and likely that I was trying to earn her trust to take advantage of her. I've lost my only friend."
He rubbed her back and held her tightly against him, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear. "Shh, it's all right, Miss Cadeaux." He waited until her sobs subsided and stroked her back, then he leaned back, facing her. Her looked her in the eyes, the black pools of his pupils growing wider.
Their faces were very close. She watched as he leaned his face down and kissed her. Their lips met, parted, and relaxed as he explored her mouth with his tongue. His hands tangled in her hair, and she moaned softly. She felt it was wild, loose behavior and a bit wanton, but she did not care. She only wanted to enjoy him, all of him, in that moment. And yet…
She broke off their kiss. "You do not care that I have no prospects and spend my days working in the kitchen?"
"That depends. Can you bring me a pastry or two?" he teased as he kissed her again. "No, I do not care about any of those things. I care about you and you alone. No one else matters to me but you."
He kissed her deeply and this time, and she put her arms around him, holding on to him tightly. She got a thrill out of feeling the warmth of his body through the stiff, red regimental uniform he wore and felt a little frisson of excitement as he took it off. She smelled his natural scent, a men's cologne that reminded her of a warm summer night, but manly.
She eagerly touched his back, tracing her hands along the curves of his muscular arms and back as she felt the thin, linen shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. She gently tugged at his snowy-white cravat, letting it unwind from his neck, and her eyes widened at the small expanse of chest hair that caught her eye. Something about seeing his bare skin sent a warmth through her, and she felt her blood run hot, hotter than a flame. She wanted him.
Their kiss ran deep, passionately, and trailed his fingers along her bare arms. He traced kisses down her neck, and her chest rose and fell as he pulled her closer, up onto his lap, and kissed her bare chest.
She uttered a soft moan as he kissed her there and pulled away. Her eyes opened. "Why did you stop?" She felt breathless.
"I do not wish to dishonor you," he said, breathing hard. "If we were to be found now, your reputation would be ruined. I care about you and want to do right by you. I do not wish to sully you."
She leaned back on her hands, feeling the soft carpet. Her legs were splayed out wantonly around his hips. She rather liked them there. And he looked so sweet and innocent, yet a gentleman at the same time. How very English.
A wicked idea struck her. "And what if I wish to be dishonored?"
He stared at her. "Miss Cadeaux?"
"All my life, I have tried to do the right thing. The good thing. To do what has been asked of me. But now, I want to be selfish. I want something, someone, just for myself." She spoke quietly but clearly. "I… want you, Samuel. Only you."
"Marie," he murmured, his voice low.
She adored it when he spoke her name. She wanted to touch those lips again.
"Are you certain? We do not have to—"
She crawled toward him on her hands and knees and kissed him, conscious that bending over, she was giving him ample view of her chest that he'd kissed but a moment ago. The thought did not go unnoticed by the lieutenant, whose eyes darkened with arousal.
"Marie, are you sure? I can go—" he started.
"I do not want you to. Please. Stay with me a while," she said. "I do not wish to be good. I'd like to be bad for a time. Please?"
Her hand slipped and stroked a telltale bulge in his trousers. She did not protest as he groaned and took her by the arms. Excitement filled her as he pinned her to the floor, kissing her madly along her neck, her cheeks, her lips. He trailed kisses up and down her skin, kissing his way down her chest, giving a light kiss to both of her slim, delicate collarbones that stuck out.
She felt she was running out of breath, her heart was beating so fast. She broke off the kiss, panting.
He looked at her, his mouth in an easy smile. "Are you all right?"
She nodded, unable to stop smiling. "Yes. I needed to catch my breath."
He laughed, a rich, joyful sound. He helped her up and slowly undid the ties of her dress and assisted her out of it, discarding the pretty garment on the floor. Sitting her on the edge of the bed, he slowly pushed up her skirts and feeling wild, wet a finger of his in his mouth.
She was breathing hard. "What are you doing?"
"Pleasing my lady, if you'll let me," he said, and slowly, he spread her legs apart. She watched with curiosity as his fingers danced along the tops of her knees, tickling the soft fabric of her silk, knee-high stockings, his fingers grazing the tight ribbons that held them up to her thighs. He then reached with his hand and felt lower, teasing her most private part.
She gasped, her eyes wide. "What are you—" She was dumbstruck as he teased her center folds, tickling her. She was soon slick and wet, much to her surprise. "You've made me all wet."
His fingers bunched together and rubbed, teasing and playing along her slick walls, slipping in and out, stroking her most sensitive part. He grinned. "I can do better than that." And he bent down and teased her with his mouth, his tongue angling and slipping inside of her.
It was rough, wet, and warm, feeling her and tickling in all the right places. His tongue slipped in and out of her and it was maddening as she spread her legs wider apart to give him freer access to her. She wanted all of him inside her, and if his tongue was any indication, he was a most attentive lover, indeed.
He kissed the insides of her thighs and kissed her down there again, teasing and prodding her with his tongue. She luxuriated in his touch and almost felt bruised and sore, but oh-so-good. He felt deliciously soft and smooth, and she wanted him to play with her forever.
She arched her back and ached for his touch, and when it came to be too much, she cried out. Waves of pleasure rode her, making her shiver and shake, down to the very muscles in her legs.
He stopped and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, pulling her skirts back down over her trembling legs. "You are exciting."
She shook and trembled on the floor. "Me?"
"You're shaking like a leaf. I've made you tremble."
"I suppose it is a small kind of accomplishment," she teased.
"Then I shall have to work on becoming very accomplished," he said with a sly grin. He kissed her mouth then and she felt delicious. She wasn't sure if she could walk again, but her lips felt rough and sore from so much kissing, her cheeks were rosy and her eyes bright.
"You are beautiful. Marie. I want…" He paused. "There is something particular I wished to ask you, but not now. This is not how I intended to speak with you."
She looked up at him and slowly sat up. "No?"
"No. I will call tomorrow to speak with your uncle. You will be here?"
"Yes," she said breathlessly.
"Then I will help you into your clothes and bid you goodnight, and sweet dreams." He helped her sit up on the bed and put her dress back on, tying and arranging it correctly. She repaired her hairstyle whilst he adjusted his own clothing.
"How did you find me?" she asked.
He picked up her feathered mask from the floor. "With this," he said.
"You picked that up, after Mrs. Campbell had stepped on it?" And tried her best to crush it beneath her heel, much like my spirit , she thought.
"Of course. All I had to do was follow the trail of feathers you left behind, and your shoes." He glanced at the pair he'd found on the stairwell and had set on the floor. "Your dress does have a lot of feathers. What are you supposed to be?"
"A goose. "
He laughed. "Well, my little bird, I shall call you my goose and bid you goodnight." He kissed the top of her nose and her forehead, going in for another kiss on her lips.
" Bonne nuit ," she said.
He shut the door behind him and she went to her own bedroom shortly thereafter, dreaming of feathers and soft kisses.