A Witch's Tale (13 page)

“What
of Gavin’s sister?”

“She
will marry another more worthy of her.” He said this with such sad finality her
heart went out to him.

“You
give up rather easily, Sir Alastair,” Madeline noted with an arched brow. “You
do the lady a favor then.”

Alastair
fumed into his cups. “You don’t know her! She thought all I had to do was
approach the man and he would offer me a place in his household! She never once
considered he would not. After what Gaston and Jasper endured; I’d rather not
know.”

“So
you will not even try?”

“My
own mother did not want me, Madeline,” he said depressively. “How can I expect
this man who is my father to be any different?”

“You
will find no peace in such a decision,” she predicted as she turned the spit
and shrugged. “I think you have much to think on before you leave it at that.”

“How
is it you lived in your father’s household and didn’t know he sired you?”
Alastair asked curiously.

Madeline
smiled sadly. “My father was a nobleman with a wife and a family. My mother was
his mistress who posed as a servant. All was a secret until he died.”

“How
did you find out?”

“My
mother was inconsolable for over a year. I was eight and quite confused his
death caused her such grief. His wife began to abuse us both for no cause. I
was confused by it. His youngest daughter told me he was my father then for
spite.”

“Were
you angry at your mother?” Alastair wanted to know, his dark eyes riveted upon
her answer.

“I
was angry at both of them for their selfishness,” Madeline admitted in
remembrance. “They thought nothing of my feelings, but their own.”

“How
did his other family accept you?”

“They
didn’t accept me at all. It wasn’t long before my mother took her life. I went
to live with my grandmother then,” Madeline explained with a voice laced in
sorrow. “So, you see? I know what it is like to be unwanted. I can only tell
you that not knowing the man’s reaction will haunt you.”

Alastair
considered her words and slowed in his efforts to get drunk. The other knights
trickled back and ate heartily, complimenting her until she was red in the face
and annoyed by their continued praise.

Gavin
returned and saw to his horse. She knew the binding would take hold the minute
he set eyes upon her. She wiped her hands on her apron and retired to the tent,
fixing her hair into some semblance of order. She gazed into the small hand
mirror she found in Lord Lyon’s things. She pinched her cheeks to give her face
color, sticking out her tongue at her own reflection. 

What
did she think to do here? This was beneath them both for her to resort to
trickery to get the man to act the fool for her. She knew the one afflicted
with the love spell could get quite carried away. How they reacted depended
very much on their own individual personality.

She
giggled to think of his taking Gaston’s guitar from him and singing of his love
for her. She knew such outrageous behavior would be questioned by the others.
They were all going to the drinking tent within the festival grounds. She reasoned
they wouldn’t be there to see Gavin’s humiliation.

Madeline
dressed in one of her newly altered gowns. It was a lovely rose color, made of
velvet with blonde lace trim. She was aware the square bodice was quite tight,
drawing an inordinate amount of attention to the rounded tops of her breasts.
It was the most revealing of the gowns. She hoped it had the desired effect
upon Gavin.

Madeline
plaited her hair as she waited for his arrival. He entered the tent and gazed
at her, green eyes filled with admiration. She bit her lip as she awaited the
signs of sickly adoration. She frowned, vaguely disappointed when he only
looked at her slowly from head to toe.

“Lord
Lyon’s frocks look better on you, my sweet,” he said simply and went about his
business of seeking clean garments, his back to her now. His hair was damp from
washing up in the trough.

“How
was your practice today?” she ventured, aware she was feeling miffed he wasn’t
acting the fool for her. Did the spell not work?

“The
day was long and tiresome and I wish to think on it no more,” he answered her
abruptly. “The king has declared tomorrow a day of rest. I thought we would go
to the festivities tonight.”

Her
heart leapt at his words. She was bored and eager to explore the festival. She
shrugged off her failed spell. It was not the first time she bungled one. She
left the tent to prepare him a meal while he changed.  She watched him as
he ate, disappointed he wasn’t ogling her as he should be, groveling at her
feet. Her blue eyes slid away from his handsome face with reluctance while he
ate.

Gavin
dressed in a simple pale grey wool tunic, black leather jerkin and black
breeches. His black boots gleamed with recent polish. He looked so handsome and
appealing she tore her eyes away from him many times, feeling the spell
affected her more than him now.

He
discarded his bowl and raised his eyes to hers. Those green eyes had a bit of
heat in them when they met hers. She felt the warmth of his look, even if his
actions hardly let on what he was thinking or feeling. He got up and offered
her his hand.

They
walked down the thoroughfare to the main site for the festival. They
encountered many entertainments along the way. He insisted they stop at each along
the way. She laughed at a puppet show and saw him looking at her strangely. She
wondered about his obvious immunity to the binding when he led her away and
they wandered the merchant’s stalls with various wares.

She
was stunned when he bought her a wreath of flowers and ribbons and set it atop
her head, smiling down at her beguilingly.

“Now
you look more fairy than witch, my sweet,” he said with a teasing grin, his
hand seeking hers as he pulled her with him.

She
blushed at his words, heart hammering in her chest as he led her away. “You
have this misconception of witches, Gavin. They are not all ugly and evil as
the stories all say.”

“No,
some are beauteous redheads with large blue eyes that sear the very souls of
men,” he countered stoutly and brought her small hand to his lips, making her
knees shake in response.

Madeline
didn’t know quite what to make of his odd behavior as they enjoyed the
entertainments. He laughed and proved a charming, attentive companion. With his
mood lightened, they made their way to the larger tent where his men flocked to
earlier.

Gavin’s
hand was possessive as it held hers. His eyes continued to fall upon her as
they made their way to the table where his men sat. They cheered and crowed at
the sight of him, pressing a tankard into his hand immediately.

Alastair
appeared in better spirits and sat at her elbow, frowning to see them there.
“He hates these things. I’m surprised you got him to come.”

“The
idea was his. I had no part in this,” Madeline informed him, watching Gavin
interact with his men with a smile. He looked so handsome she was hard pressed
to tear her eyes away and pay attention to Alastair.

“You
have been good for him thus far, Madeline. He dreaded each mile we rode to get
here,” Alastair said and smiled at her kindly. “Maybe you are the witch you
claim to be. I have never seen him so at ease since learning of the
tournament.”

Madeline
ducked her head at his praise. “It was not my doing, I assure you. Perhaps he
gains more confidence in himself now?”

“Let
us hope your spell holds then. We all have much to lose here,” he said and went
to join their antics.

Madeline
wondered if the spell was at work. Gavin was acting out of character; that was
certain. He no longer brooded his winning or losing the tournament this night.
He was relaxed and mellow enough to enjoy being with his men. She felt the heat
of his eyes time and time again that evening. She trembled under his stare,
wondering what thoughts went through his head.

The
evening was boisterous and merry. Dancers and mummers entertained, drawing
eager applause. The tent filled up quickly. Madeline was busy looking about to
see the people milling within, but also conscious of Gavin’s eyes trained upon
her most of the evening.

Gavin
was ever at her side then, making her laugh as he and his men regaled her with
tales of his unfortunate position between the two warring clans back in
Scotland. He had her roaring in laughter as he impersonated each proud Laird on
either side.

His
hand found hers, holding it unconsciously; his arm around the back of her
chair. His nearness made her all too aware of her own attraction to him. And
always, those eyes burned into hers, promising much. 

Gavin’s
men were well into their cups and acting outlandish when he arrived at her
elbow. “I thought we would retire, Madeline, unless you wish to see them drink
each other under this table you sit at?”

She
giggled, seeing Henry could hardly stand by now. The others now had female
companions as well and the atmosphere grew bawdier as the evening wore on.
Madeline nodded and he drew her up with him. She saw the knowing looks of his
men and frowned at their ribald jests before they took their leave of them.

When
they were halfway back to the campsite, Gavin spun her into a dark alcove. His
eyes were filled with need. She gasped as she looked up into his face, seeing
the desire reflected in his eyes. Before she could speak; his mouth found hers,
warm, urgent and seeking. The wreath slipped from her head as he pressed her to
him boldly, his hands at the back of her head, holding her captive as his lips
tormented hers to part.

The
heat that filled her took her breath. Her heart hammered against his, matching
its tempo. The need within her made her bold enough to press against him fully,
molding against his hard chest. The desire grew as he pressed her up against
the wooden stall, now abandoned after the day’s entertainment.

“I
want you so badly, Madeline,” he whispered harshly as his lips went to her ear,
making her shiver and gooseflesh spread down her neck. “Tell me you want me
too, that you feel this as well.”

“I
want you, Gavin,” she whispered hoarsely and stared up at him, seeing the
effect her words had on him.

He
mouth returned to hers, making her knees grow weak as his tongue stroked within.
His hands lowered to ease into the folds of her gown. He lifted her and she
gasped at the feel of his hardened arousal. She gasped and closed her eyes as
the sensation of him touching her made her reel with dizzying desire.

Gavin
groaned and set her back on her feet. He grabbed her hand and fairly dragged
her back to their tent. He shut the flap and kissed her once more, his hands
eagerly going to the fastenings of her gown, his hands tearing at his own
clothing.

The
sight of his bare, rippling chest made her mouth go dry. The muscled width of
it was nothing compared to his flat ridged abdomen which drew her admiring
gaze. His eyes were dark with need. He swung her into his arms and carried her
to the bed.

Gavin
eased her down and his mouth was insistent and drugging, making her aware he
might at last feel the effects of the spell. His hands worked at her gown,
trembling slightly as he drew it over her head. The shift was eased down. The
dim lantern’s glow allowed him to feast his gaze upon her ivory skin beneath.

His
hands cupped and stroked her full breasts until she was trembling with need,
arching under his large hands. His lips adored her flesh, making her fevered
and weak. His lips teased her nipples until they were stiff and tingling. When
he removed the rest of his garments, she sighed with contentment as she felt
the glorious feel of him nude in her arms. He stroked her flat belly and
slender legs with reverence in his gaze as he looked down at her.

“You
have cast your spell upon me, Madeline,” he whispered softly as he rolled atop
of her, his hardness seeking her insistently, his eyes filled with need. “I
need you so badly.”

She
gasped as he entered her quickly, feeling only a twinge of pain and then sudden
fullness within her as he stretched her. He began to move slowly at first, his
lips moving over hers as his body rose and fell, making her clutch his
shoulders and draw him closer.

He
groaned softly as he began to move faster, eyes closed and lips parted in
pleasure. Madeline enjoyed the feel of him inside her after the initial
discomfort. His hands slid within her loosened hair, his lips taking hers in a
fiery kiss as his body stroked deeply within her.

She
pressed her face into his neck, overwrought with the feel of his possession of
her. Her hands dug into his shoulders as he moved above her. She felt a vague
sense of disappointment when he suddenly went rigid and soon went still within
her, his face buried in her neck. He breathed raggedly for a time before he
lifted his head.

He
leaned up on his elbows and dropped a kiss upon her nose. His eyes were filled
with gentleness as they met hers. “You should have told me you’ve never lain
with a man, Madeline. I didn’t hurt you, did I, my sweet?”