her.
A light breeze
swept over her, tickling her skin, the sensation heightened by the proximity of
the tempting man in front of her. Vaguely aware that the music had ceased, they
remained motionless, separated by naught more than the flow of air between
them. Willing herself to turn away, Madeline’s limbs remained uncooperative,
rooting her to the spot.
Tristan’s thumb
brushed across her fingertips, before tracing circles along her palm and the
underside of her wrist, sending shivers through her and causing her useless
legs to almost buckle. He must have noticed her weakened state as he put a
solid hand to the base of her spine, the heat of it scorching through her
dress. The movement forced them closer, but he must have recognised her
trepidation as still their bodies did not touch.
Desperately torn,
Madeline’s fingers itched to stroke across his broad chest, to encircle his
strong arms and most of all tangle around his neck and pull him down for a
blistering kiss. The rational part of her, the one guided by fear and doubt,
whispered of the dangers, but was hushed as Tristan brought his lips down to
hers with agonising deliberation. His lips skimmed across hers, the sensation
so acute that it resounded through her, forcing her to bolt from him as her heart
hammered painfully in her ears.
Breath coming rapidly, she stared at
him, her fingers coming involuntarily to her lips where they tingled
incessantly. Tristan’s chest heaved as he regarded her with apprehension, and
she realised she had not been the only one affected.
He reached for her
hand but she turned quickly and, with brisk strides, began to walk back across
the courtyard with the intention of retreating inside.
Heavy footfalls
sounded behind her and Tristan quickly caught up, stepping in front of her.
“Madeline, I did
not mean to…” A mystifying fusion of hope and regret played across his face and
remorse filled her, “I had hoped to court you properly.”
“Tristan, pray
forgive me. I intended not to mislead you.”
“Mislead me? You
deny that you desire me as I do you?”
Glancing away, she
blushed. “I beg of you, do not pursue the matter. ‘Twas a mistake and for that,
I apologise. I have no wish to be courted, I did not return with the intention
of securing your affections.”
“Madeline, we were
to be betrothed. Does that count for naught?” He ran a hand across his bristled
jaw in frustration.
“Nay, ‘twas an
honourable deed and I thank you for it. But I no longer need rescuing. You no
longer have a duty towards me,” she insisted.
“I was not thinking
of duty just now,” he bit out, the annoyance behind his words causing Madeline
to back away.
“’Do not fool
yourself, Tristan.” He went to speak but she continued. “Pray accept that I
have no wish to be bound to…anyone. You have no obligation here.”
He studied her as
she stood resolutely, meeting his eyes boldly as she straightened her back,
hoping he would not see through her staunch mask. Tristan created a weakness
within her, one that frightened her desperately, and she knew she could never
allow herself to be overcome by him for he would surely leave her just a
vulnerable as she had been five summers ago.
“I believe I am not
the one who deceives themselves, but I will not force my affections where they
are unwanted. I will, however, extend the hand of friendship. Will you accept
such an offer?”
Surprised he had
relented so easily, she nodded her assent. “Aye, friendship I will accept.”
A look to his eyes
had Madeline doubting if he had indeed relinquished his hopes for them but, realising
there was little else she could do, she determined she would give him no more
reason to imagine there could be aught but friendship between them. Quashing
the voice that played inside of her, reminding her that such a resolution was
going to be hard to maintain, she allowed Tristan to escort her back into the
hall.
Chapter 5
Their return to Woodchurch
A light breeze
swept over her, tickling her skin, the sensation heightened by the proximity of
the tempting man in front of her. Vaguely aware that the music had ceased, they
remained motionless, separated by naught more than the flow of air between
them. Willing herself to turn away, Madeline’s limbs remained uncooperative,
rooting her to the spot.
Tristan’s thumb
brushed across her fingertips, before tracing circles along her palm and the
underside of her wrist, sending shivers through her and causing her useless
legs to almost buckle. He must have noticed her weakened state as he put a
solid hand to the base of her spine, the heat of it scorching through her
dress. The movement forced them closer, but he must have recognised her
trepidation as still their bodies did not touch.
Desperately torn,
Madeline’s fingers itched to stroke across his broad chest, to encircle his
strong arms and most of all tangle around his neck and pull him down for a
blistering kiss. The rational part of her, the one guided by fear and doubt,
whispered of the dangers, but was hushed as Tristan brought his lips down to
hers with agonising deliberation. His lips skimmed across hers, the sensation
so acute that it resounded through her, forcing her to bolt from him as her heart
hammered painfully in her ears.
Breath coming rapidly, she stared at
him, her fingers coming involuntarily to her lips where they tingled
incessantly. Tristan’s chest heaved as he regarded her with apprehension, and
she realised she had not been the only one affected.
He reached for her
hand but she turned quickly and, with brisk strides, began to walk back across
the courtyard with the intention of retreating inside.
Heavy footfalls
sounded behind her and Tristan quickly caught up, stepping in front of her.
“Madeline, I did
not mean to…” A mystifying fusion of hope and regret played across his face and
remorse filled her, “I had hoped to court you properly.”
“Tristan, pray
forgive me. I intended not to mislead you.”
“Mislead me? You
deny that you desire me as I do you?”
Glancing away, she
blushed. “I beg of you, do not pursue the matter. ‘Twas a mistake and for that,
I apologise. I have no wish to be courted, I did not return with the intention
of securing your affections.”
“Madeline, we were
to be betrothed. Does that count for naught?” He ran a hand across his bristled
jaw in frustration.
“Nay, ‘twas an
honourable deed and I thank you for it. But I no longer need rescuing. You no
longer have a duty towards me,” she insisted.
“I was not thinking
of duty just now,” he bit out, the annoyance behind his words causing Madeline
to back away.
“’Do not fool
yourself, Tristan.” He went to speak but she continued. “Pray accept that I
have no wish to be bound to…anyone. You have no obligation here.”
He studied her as
she stood resolutely, meeting his eyes boldly as she straightened her back,
hoping he would not see through her staunch mask. Tristan created a weakness
within her, one that frightened her desperately, and she knew she could never
allow herself to be overcome by him for he would surely leave her just a
vulnerable as she had been five summers ago.
“I believe I am not
the one who deceives themselves, but I will not force my affections where they
are unwanted. I will, however, extend the hand of friendship. Will you accept
such an offer?”
Surprised he had
relented so easily, she nodded her assent. “Aye, friendship I will accept.”
A look to his eyes
had Madeline doubting if he had indeed relinquished his hopes for them but, realising
there was little else she could do, she determined she would give him no more
reason to imagine there could be aught but friendship between them. Quashing
the voice that played inside of her, reminding her that such a resolution was
going to be hard to maintain, she allowed Tristan to escort her back into the
hall.
Chapter 5
Their return to Woodchurch
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