The Chevalier Read Online Free Page B

suspected that she was like himself, little concerned with fashion – or was it that she simply chose to do as she pleased, caring naught for convention? Her jet brows arched like raven’s wings over eyes as inviting as soft gray mist. Beneath her small but classic straight nose, her lips were pink and generously sensual. Unlike so many of the ladies present, she needed neither paint nor cosmetic to enhance her loveliness. He yearned to kiss those lovely lips once again.
    There were seed pearls sewn throughout the square-cut bodice of her gown and silver ribbons that set off her eyes. A silver sash was tied at her slim waist and there were silver slippers to match as well as silver ribbons in her high coiffure. A simple strand of perfectly matched pearls hung from her long, slender neck.
    He did not imagine the stain of color in her cheeks deepening as he stood admiring her beauty as thousands of candles in the fine crystal chandeliers above them illuminated the opulent ballroom. She opened a silvery fan and moved it with a flutter of uneasy motion.
    “Does that chit intrigue you, darling?”
    Startled, he turned to Emily, whose hand reached possessively for his. “Of course not.”
    “That child has been staring at you all evening. If I were her mother, I would spank her.”
    “You needn’t be jealous. I have had enough of young girls one must fight duels over.”
    Emily smiled sweetly. “Is it not well that his lordship and I have such a convenient arrangement? I care not what he does and he does not mind what I do just as long as I am discreet.”
    “I hardly think being at this ball with me tonight would be considered discreet.”
    “I have not done a single thing that could redden a cheek or raise an eyebrow – although I confess to planning on some very interesting entertainment for later in the evening.” She licked her lower lip provocatively with the pointed tip of her pink tongue. “I can tell you are already thinking about touching the brassy red hair which lies beneath my wig. If you please me, I shall indeed let you see the red curls that lay elsewhere.”
    Normally, such an insinuation would be more than enough to incite his lust. However as he looked back at Madeline de Marney, her silvery eyes caught his own. And suddenly he knew without a whisper of a doubt that tonight he would not be kissing Emily into insensibility. His thoughts were still fixed on the lovely child-woman who had touched him more deeply than he cared to admit.
    He felt a surge of desire, but not for Emily. The girl drew him magnetically like no other he had ever known. He would leave Emily at her doorstep and spend the rest of the night gaming. Certainly he knew better than to waste time and money gambling, but he also knew his raging desire would not allow him to sleep.
    There was only one thing that would slake his lust and desire for the girl and it was denied him.

 Three
    Madeline brushed her hair, dreamily thinking about the evening before. All night she slept with an image of a golden Nordic god in her dreams. No, she had not imagined that Gareth Eriksen kissed her, nor the feelings that kiss had stirred in her; it was as if her heart would surely explode from the excitement.
    It was her first real kiss. She yearned for him to kiss her again but doubted that it would ever happen. He was a man who obviously had experience with women; her unschooled passion would either arouse amusement or disdain in him. Either reaction on his part would cause her humiliation. She sighed deeply, giving her hair an extra hard brush as if that bit of pain would push away what she knew to be silly thoughts.
    A knock at her bedroom door stirred her from self-tormenting reverie. Clothilde, her maid, entered and began speaking in excited French.
    “Mademoiselle Madeline, there is a gentleman downstairs who asks to see you.”
    “Me?” she exclaimed with surprise. “Did the gentleman identify himself?”
    “ Non , and I expressly told him