Intrigued (33 page)
Jasmine shrugged. “He is only a man,
ma petite.
There is no mystery, and you are no virgin.”
ma petite.
There is no mystery, and you are no virgin.”
“But I have never known any man but my husband!” Autumn was pale.
“Sebastian is dead, and now you will know another man,” her mother replied in practical tones. “Do not be a fool,
cherie.
Since you must do this, do it with goodwill and endear yourself to the king. It will be the better for you, for Madeline, and for Chermont when he finally tires of you and you are no longer in his life.”
cherie.
Since you must do this, do it with goodwill and endear yourself to the king. It will be the better for you, for Madeline, and for Chermont when he finally tires of you and you are no longer in his life.”
“I wonder if I shall ever be as sanguine as you, Mama,” Autumn said.
The older woman laughed. “Perhaps one day,
ma fille,”
Jasmine replied.
ma fille,”
Jasmine replied.
Chapter
14
14
A
utumn and her mother were escorted to the king’s
salle a manger
by a liveried footman. Within the dining room were eight gentlemen. Louis came forward and kissed the ladies’ hands, introducing them immediately afterwards to the others in the room. None were noblemen of particularly high rank, which Autumn found interesting. As their manner was informal, the beautiful marquise assumed the king preferred it that way. Her mother was seated at the foot of the dining table, the king leading Jasmine there personally, while the Comte de Montroi placed Autumn on the king’s right at the table’s head.
utumn and her mother were escorted to the king’s
salle a manger
by a liveried footman. Within the dining room were eight gentlemen. Louis came forward and kissed the ladies’ hands, introducing them immediately afterwards to the others in the room. None were noblemen of particularly high rank, which Autumn found interesting. As their manner was informal, the beautiful marquise assumed the king preferred it that way. Her mother was seated at the foot of the dining table, the king leading Jasmine there personally, while the Comte de Montroi placed Autumn on the king’s right at the table’s head.
As the servants began serving their first course, the king took Autumn’s hand in his and kissed it once again, this time turning it over and embracing the palm. She flushed prettily, surprised at his public action, pulling the hand from his light grip.
“Sire,” she chided him softly. “You are not being very discreet.”
“How can I be when all I want to do is kiss your pretty lips?” Louis replied, his brown eyes twinkling.
Autumn laughed and shook her head at him. “Eat your soup, monseigneur,” she advised, and dipped her own spoon into her bowl, sipping delicately, her gaze modestly lowered.
The king chuckled. “You make it most difficult for me,
ma bijou,
but later tonight I shall make it most difficult for you.”
ma bijou,
but later tonight I shall make it most difficult for you.”
Again Autumn’s cheeks colored, but then she boldly looked up at the king and responded. “Perhaps, sire, I shall make it quite arduous for you in return.” Then she was shocked at her own words, which seemed challenging in her own ears, but she had somehow sensed that she must not allow herself to be this man’s victim. If he would have her in his bed, then they would play the game as equals.
Where on earth had that idea come from?
she wondered to herself. She almost sounded like her own mother.
Where on earth had that idea come from?
she wondered to herself. She almost sounded like her own mother.
But Louis smiled, not in the least offended by her speech, turning his attention to his meal now.
Autumn heaved a silent sigh of relief, but her appetite was scant despite the delicious dishes offered by the well-trained servants. Looking about her, she was enchanted by the dining room. It was beautiful, with much gilt, exquisite carvings, and wood panels covered in silk. There was a huge marble fireplace flanked by lifesize knights in full armour, their swords before them, pointed down. The heavy bronze andirons in the fireplace were large and held enormous logs that crackled merrily as they burned. The shorter walls were hung with large woven silk tapestries, the longer walls with great paintings. The floors were black-and-white marble, but beneath the sizable oak dining table was a beautiful Turkey carpet.
Autumn remarked on it, and immediately the king said, “One day we shall make such exquisite carpets here in France, and we shall make silk as well. I do not wish France to be overly dependent upon foreigners for rare and unique things. We shall make our own porcelain too. I vow it,
cherie!
When I complete my palace at Versailles it shall be filled with all manner of wonderful things, and many of them will have been made here in France!”
cherie!
When I complete my palace at Versailles it shall be filled with all manner of wonderful things, and many of them will have been made here in France!”
“Then you have begun your new palace,” she replied.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “You will come and see it one day.” It was a statement, not a request.
The evening ended early for, as the king announced, they would hunt at dawn. The king’s companions looked archly at one another, all thinking their master was far more interested in the hunt he would conduct that night than the one scheduled for the dawn.
“Not that I blame him,” the Sieur de Belleville said to his companions. “What a rare beauty. Such skin! And those bewitching eyes. One blue and one green.” He sighed. “Why is it that kings always have nothing but the best?”
“You defame madame la marquise,” Montroi said quickly. “If you do not cease, I shall be obliged, law or no law, to challenge you, de Belleville.” Because of the affection in which he held Autumn, Guy Claude felt obliged to defend her honor. She was not some loose woman of the court.
“Come now,
mon ami,”
de Belleville reasoned, “we all know why madame la marquise is here at Chambord, though how the king ferreted out such a beauty in the midst of the wilds is beyond my ken.”
mon ami,”
de Belleville reasoned, “we all know why madame la marquise is here at Chambord, though how the king ferreted out such a beauty in the midst of the wilds is beyond my ken.”
“Having lived most of your life in Normandy,” Montroi replied, “you cannot know it, but five years ago, madame and her deceased husband did the king and his mother a great service. As you are aware, the king never forgets a kindness.”
“Or a great beauty,” Baron Chaizefleurs chortled knowingly.
“For God’s sake, monsieurs, her mother chaperones her!” Montroi said angrily.
“I think, Montroi, that you are still in love with her,” de Belleville insinuated slyly.
“I was never in love with her,” Guy Claude said bluntly.
“But you courted her!”
The Comte de Montroi laughed. “Come now, de Belleville, do not be so naive. Who would not, given the opportunity, have courted her? She is beautiful. She is wealthy. She was a virgin of impeccable lineage. I would have been a fool not to have tried for such a prize. I am not in love with her now, or ever, but we are friends, and I will not have her reputation so quickly compromised by a group of ignorant fools who know nothing of madame la marquis or her peerless reputation.”
“Then I must apologize,
mon ami,”
de Belleville said, ending the discussion quite peacefully. He bowed to the Comte de Montroi.
mon ami,”
de Belleville said, ending the discussion quite peacefully. He bowed to the Comte de Montroi.
“Your apology is accepted,” Guy Claude said, satisfied that he had protected Autumn’s reputation as best he could. He did not for a moment believe his companions thought any differently now than they had several minutes before, but at least they would not discuss the matter too easily or too publicly.
Autumn had bid her mother good night, saying nothing that would reveal her nervousness, although Jasmine certainly knew. Both Lily and Orane had come with her. They helped their mistress to disrobe, and Orane brushed out Autumn’s long dark hair with firm but gentle strokes, while Lily fetched a clean, soft silk chemise for her lady to wear to bed. Autumn dismissed them, having washed her hands, her face, and her teeth, rinsing her mouth with violet water. She was not yet ready to get into bed, and she wondered how soon it would be before the king visited her.
She stood by a window looking out over the wide lawn of the chateau. The moonlight dappled the greens, and she saw several deer grazing. It was a sight she had not seen since she had last visited Queen’s Malvern. She sighed deeply, affected by the beauty of it, which almost hurt her heart. How far she had come since those days of her innocence. Her ears picked up a faint sound behind her. She did not even start when the king’s voice said to her, “It is lovely.”
“Oui,
it is,” she agreed.
it is,” she agreed.
He reached about to undo the pale blue ribbons that held her silk chemise closed. Deftly they were loosened until the king was able to slide the garment back off her shoulders, letting it slip to the floor with an almost silent hiss. Autumn stood naked, but strangely she found she wasn’t afraid, and she had certainly thought she would be.
“Tonight,” the king told her, “I shall leave you to sleep in peace. It has been a long day, I know, but you will allow me the favor of your loveliness for just a few more moments. My appetite is already well-whetted, but I know you need your rest after a tiring journey from Chermont.”
“Your majesty is kind,” Autumn replied, relieved to be able to postpone the inevitable.
The king chuckled. “Your manners,
ma bijou,
are exquisite, even as everything about you is exquisite; but I believe it is permitted for lovers to call one another by their Christian names, no matter if one of them is a king. You will address me as Louis when we are in private, although I will admit it would be fascinating to hear you cry out, ‘Oh, your majesty!’ in your passion.”
ma bijou,
are exquisite, even as everything about you is exquisite; but I believe it is permitted for lovers to call one another by their Christian names, no matter if one of them is a king. You will address me as Louis when we are in private, although I will admit it would be fascinating to hear you cry out, ‘Oh, your majesty!’ in your passion.”
“Then perhaps I shall one day,” Autumn answered him boldly.
Again the king laughed softly. His hands cupped her two round breasts, lifting them slightly to his gaze from over her shoulder. “They are lovely,” he said almost regretfully, brushing the nipples with his thumbs as he released them. He wrapped an arm about her waist, drawing her back against the silk of his nightshirt. The fingers of his hand pressing lightly, splayed out across the soft round of her belly. Then the fingers of his other hand sought out her nether lips, pushing between them, with unerring instinct finding her
bouton d’amour.
A single and very skillful finger began to stroke at the sensitive nub of sentient flesh.
bouton d’amour.
A single and very skillful finger began to stroke at the sensitive nub of sentient flesh.
Autumn drew her breath in sharply.
This
was totally unexpected. It was a too suggestive and intimate invasion of her person. Worse, to her total shock, she could feel herself being aroused. How could, that be? How could this virtual stranger,
this king,
kindle and bestir her desires? Was that not a husband’s privilege? And then she realized as a jolt of feeling startled her, that perhaps these sensual skills were not just the province of a husband. What a fool she had been!
This
was totally unexpected. It was a too suggestive and intimate invasion of her person. Worse, to her total shock, she could feel herself being aroused. How could, that be? How could this virtual stranger,
this king,
kindle and bestir her desires? Was that not a husband’s privilege? And then she realized as a jolt of feeling startled her, that perhaps these sensual skills were not just the province of a husband. What a fool she had been!
“You are growing wet for me,” Louis murmured approvingly in her ear. His breath was hot and moist. His fingers teased and played with her.
Autumn’s head fell back against his shoulder. She closed her eyes, her breathing ragged, as the pleasure began to build up within her nether regions.
“You like it, don’t you?” the king said softly.
“Oui,”
she heard herself answer and, as if to emphasize her point, her bottom began to rotate against his groin.
she heard herself answer and, as if to emphasize her point, her bottom began to rotate against his groin.
He purred with his delight but then said,
“Non, ma bijou.
If you continue such naughtiness I shall regret my promise to leave you in peace tonight.” He could feel her little
bouton d’amour
swollen and throbbing beneath his fingers. With his thumb and his forefinger he pinched it hard, smiling to himself as she cried out, and her love juices soaked his fingers and hand. “Ah, is that not nice,
cherie?”
he whispered to her. He began to suck each of his fingers and, giving her his hand, he commanded her to lick it so she might taste her own juices. Then he turned her about to face him, and Autumn half collapsed against him.
“Non, ma bijou.
If you continue such naughtiness I shall regret my promise to leave you in peace tonight.” He could feel her little
bouton d’amour
swollen and throbbing beneath his fingers. With his thumb and his forefinger he pinched it hard, smiling to himself as she cried out, and her love juices soaked his fingers and hand. “Ah, is that not nice,
cherie?”
he whispered to her. He began to suck each of his fingers and, giving her his hand, he commanded her to lick it so she might taste her own juices. Then he turned her about to face him, and Autumn half collapsed against him.
The king gathered her up in his arms and walked across the room to lay her in her bed, bending to kiss her ripe lips. “Tomorrow,” he told her, “you will grow wet with the memory of these last few minutes each time I look at you,
ma bijou.
You do not wear
caleçons,
do you?”
ma bijou.
You do not wear
caleçons,
do you?”
Wordlessly, Autumn shook her head.
“Good,” the king said meaningfully. Then, with a smile, he turned and left her bedchamber.
She lay stunned by his words; weak with the quick pleasure he had given her; amazed by her own wanton response to his lust. She hadn’t known. How could she have known? Why hadn’t her mother explained these things to her? Were they even explainable? And what other surprises awaited her in Louis’s arms? To her great amazement, she fell asleep amid the jumble of her very confused thoughts.
Jasmine asked no questions in the morning when they met to hunt. Autumn’s face was an expressionless mask that offered no informaton at all. Madame la duchesse thought her daughter very beautiful in her forest green riding costume with a wide-brimmed chapeau atop her head, its soft white plumes brushing her cheek. The gentlemen were most complimentary of the ladies as they were helped to mount their horses. Louis looked directly at Autumn with a knowing smile. He noted the faint blush staining her cheeks and chuckled wickedly. They began to walk from the courtyard, the dogs and the beaters dashing ahead as the king’s head huntsman trumpeted his horn.
The sun was not quite yet above the horizon, but the heavens above them were a bright blue. To the east the sky was a wonderful mixture of muted gold, deep orange, and creamy lavender. The earth was warm but the air cool. A light haze hung over the fields.
“It is like riding through fine lace,” Autumn remarked as she kicked her horse into a canter. She had not ridden like this since Sebastian’s death, she thought quietly to herself, but it felt wonderful to be astride again, the wind in her face. It was a rare freedom, and yet she really wasn’t free at all.
“You ride well, madame,” the king remarked as he drew his own mount up by her side. “You learned young?”
“My father took me up on his horse before I could walk,” she told him with a small smile, avoiding his gaze. “I was given my own; pony when I was three.”
Ahead of them the beaters flushed out a buck deer and the dogs dashed madly after the beast, who immediately made for the thick forest where, to their disappointment, they lost it. Their next prey, a large boar, was not so fortunate and was quickly killed. The creature was lashed by its feet to a carrying pole and sent back to Chambord to be prepared for dinner that evening.
When the noon hour came they stopped in a sunny clearing where the royal servants had already set up a picnic for the hunters. There were roasted capons and ducks; a large country ham; a wheel of nutty-flavored cheese and another of soft Brie; fresh bread wrapped in linen serviettes that was still faintly warm; a basket of apples and pears; and, finally, several decanters of fine wine. They ate heartily, and then were up again to hunt, leaving the servants behind them to return to Chambord with what little remained of their open-air feast.
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