Tallie's Knight Part 18

"Magnus!" Tallie squeaked in surprise.

"It is the daytime." Ignoring that, he turned her in his arms and lifted her onto the bed, his hands feverishly exploring her scandalously clothed body. He ran his palms up under the knees and gloried in the smooth, satiny feel of her thighs. He bent down and suckled her hard pink nipples through the silk of the chemise and felt her shudder beneath him. He ran his hands down over her backside and up between her legs.

"Aha!" he exclaimed triumphantly as he found the slit. His hands caressed her and he frowned as he felt her stiffen.

"But you said the modiste was coming soon," said his wife through gritted teeth.

"d.a.m.n the modiste!" He caressed her more gently, determined she would, this time, partic.i.p.ate in his pa.s.sion.

"But--' " The modiste can wait! " he growled, annoyed with her hesitation. He continued to stroke and caress her with one hand, fumbling with his own clothes until he was free of their restraint, and then pa.s.sion overcame his control and he surged into her and was lost.

Tallie clenched her teeth and hung on, determined she would not disgrace him by moving or calling out. It was getting harder and harder for her to behave as she knew she should. Her husband's desire for her thrilled her, and she probably would have wept with joy--if only she didn't have to concentrate so hard on controlling her own recalcitrant body. But it was so very exciting. Tallie locked her legs into a stiff line and repeated the usual words over and over in her head. It was the only way she could concentrate on her duty to him.

The rest of the day pa.s.sed in a whirl. The modiste. Mademoiselle Celestine, arrived--luckily a little late--with an entourage of a.s.sistants who draped, pinned, snipped and pulled as they discussed, with much hand-waving and Gallic imprecation, exactly how milady should be attired. Tallie was utterly scandalised by the new French fashions. They seemed to her to consist of nothing but a few wisps of gauze or muslin, and she felt almost naked wearing them. But the modiste and her a.s.sistants laughed and a.s.sured her everything was perfectly comme il faut, and milady didn't wish to appear dowdy, did she?

Tallie looked doubtfully down at her almost naked chest and the transparent veil of embroidered muslin covering the rest of her and thought that milady might indeed prefer to be dowdy if that was the only alternative. It was one thing to appear almost naked in front of her husband--she was becoming accustomed to that--but she could not imagine wearing these. these little wispy things out in public. But she was a.s.sured she must, absolument, and she supposed when in Rome. or Paris. However, at that point Magnus entered the room.

"Just thought I'd see how--' He came to an abrupt halt, took one long, burning look at Tallie's flimsy new gown and snapped, " No! It will not do. Not at all. "

"Oh, but, mil or--' began Mademoiselle Celestine.

He strode forward and felt the fine embroidered muslin in long, disdainful fingers.

"Too thin, too flimsy. Shoddy goods."

"Mais, non, mil or gasped Mademoiselle Celestine, horrified.

"It is of the very finest--' " No matter. " He brushed off her explanations.

"I should have made my requirements clearer. My wife requires much thicker clothing than this." He flicked the material scornfully.

"You would not think it to look at her, but she has a very delicate const.i.tution--' Tallie gasped in indignation.

"She catches cold at the slightest draught and I will not allow her to risk her health for the sake of mere a la mod alite No, mademoiselle I wish Lady d'Arenville to be warmly and decently clothed, with high-necked gowns in thick, warm fabric."

And he marched out, leaving Tallie fuming. A sickly const.i.tution indeed! This from the man who'd called her st.u.r.dy! And how dared he criticise all her old clothes and then give the modiste orders to ensure she looked just as dowdy in her new ones? Suddenly Tallie felt perfectly comfortable with the new French fashions, flimsy or not.

"You will ignore my husband, if you please, Mademoiselle Celestine.

Men do not have the least idea of fashion," she said firmly.

"The gowns will be as we agreed."

Mademoiselle Celestine smiled knowingly.

"Ah, but you play with fire, milady. Alors. Perhaps we make the necklines a little higher, heW. And then we take a slip, like so." She took out an opaque underdress and held it up.

"Many women wear flesh-coloured stockings also. And of course there are your beautiful pink drawers, quite warm enough for the most fragile const.i.tution, and yet, when the gentlemen look, they see only the colour of flesh... and they wonder... ah, oui, they wonder..." She laughed and pulled a very expressive face.

"Tres chic and yet tres respectable, so your so-jealous husband is almost--but not quite--happy. Husbands must be taught their place, nonT She and her a.s.sistants laughed again.

Tallie smiled vaguely, distracted by the modiste's words. Her jealous husband? That could not be right, surely. Still, he had told all those dreadful lies about her delicate const.i.tution. She felt a small glow in the region of her heart. It was a start, perhaps. By the time the modiste and her chattering a.s.sistants finally left, promising to have a beautiful gown ready for her by the morning, and many more au plus tot, Tallie felt exhausted.

However, her husband had not simply arranged a modiste but also a hairdresser, Monsieur Raymondo, a small, dapper man with an elegant waxed moustache. He prowled around her shrinking form a dozen times, muttering under his breath, bunching her hair this way and that and exclaiming in raptures over its texture and natural curl. Magnus ventured into the room just as the hairdresser picked up his scissors.

"Don't you dare shear off all that beautiful hair!" he roared, and Monsieur Raymondo dropped his scissors in fright. A long discussion ensued over exactly how much Magnus would tolerate being cut off.

Tallie took no part in it; she was in a small, happy daze of her own.

Beautiful hair! He had lied about her fragility, now this, about her very ordinary hair.

In the end Magnus and Monsieur Raymondo reached a compromise. Short, feathery curls would cl.u.s.ter around her face, while the rest remained quite long. It would please her husband, yet still have the required cla.s.sical look about it--the new fashions, like the new French Republic, paid homage to the Ancient Greek and Roman ideals.

Tallie could hardly believe the reflection which stared back at her from the mirror when Monsieur Raymondo had finished. Her face seemed quite a different shape; she looked elegant. almost pretty. Her eyes seemed larger, her horrid nose not so pointy, and curly wisps of hair caressed her cheeks and highlighted her cheekbones.

Monsieur Raymondo showed Tallie several ways to arrange her hair. She could put it up and hold it with a crescent, like the G.o.ddess Diana.

She could wind a spangled scarf around her head, wear it in long, snaky ringlets a la Sappho or in the unique style Monsieur Raymondo had invented for her. Milady was now completely a la mode. Tallie expressed some concern that she would not be able to manage the new hairstyles, but her husband called a smartly attired young woman into the room and introduced her as Monique, Tallie's new maidservant and dresser. Tallie's mouth fell open. She had never in her life had someone dress her.

But she didn't have time to question anything, for then a shoemaker arrived. He measured her feet, produced a pair of jean half-boots and two pairs of smart kid slippers for immediate wear, and promised to send a dozen new pairs within the week.

Finally, Magnus announced that if the dressmaker delivered as she had promised, Monique could take Tallie shopping on the morrow, so that she could be fitted out with all the other falderals women found so indispensable. Tallie's head was aching by this time and she took umbrage at his tone.

"I do not wish to go shopping tomorrow," she announced.

"I have done without falderals quite happily--well, almost happily," she amended honestly, 'for all my life. " She took a deep breath and faced him, her hands clasped to her chest.

"I do not wish to sound ungrateful, indeed I am truly very grateful for all these beautiful things you have bought for me--' Magnus stiffened uncomfortably. So much for wishing for a grateful wife. He found he did not want grat.i.tude from her at all.

"It must have cost you a tremendous--' She flushed suddenly and muttered, " I am sorry. I know it is vulgar to refer to money. But I do thank you for all the purchases you have made on my behalf. I cannot remember when anyone gave me. " She broke off and scuffed her foot against the Turkish rug on the floor. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, Magnus noticed, before she ducked her head down to hide them from him. There was a short pause before she resumed.

"It is only... I do not want to waste any more time in shopping for... for things. I want... I want so much to see Paris. Already I have been here a full day and a night, and I have seen nothing except this room.

Could we not. " Her eyes fixed on his, wide with entreaty.

"If I wore a cloak, no one could see my clothes and you need not mind..."

Magnus stood up, affronted. She thought he was ashamed of her clothes, ashamed to be seen in her company. She thought he had hidden her away until she was fit to be seen. To his chagrin, he found there was an element of truth in the unspoken accusation. Though he was not ashamed of her--he just wished her to feel equal to those clothed in the very finest.

"It is too warm to wear a cloak," he said, 'but if you wish it, there is still time for us to see something of the city. "

"Now?" she blurted, surprised.

"Yes, immediately. If you are not too tired."

"Oh, no, I am not," she said, her eyes shining.

"Oh, Magnus, thank you. I will just fetch my hat." She hurried from the room and returned in a moment, fitting an old-fashioned bonnet to her head. He watched her tie its strings.

"I wished only to please you," he said stiffly.

"I did not think of how you must feel, cooped up in here all day, when you have looked forward so eagerly to our arrival."

Her face fell.

"Oh, no, I did not mean to criticise--' He interrupted her.

"Shall we?" he said, presenting his arm. Tallie was enchanted with Paris. She loved the narrow streets and the incredibly tall stone houses--some as many as seven storeys high. She admired the public buildings with the slogans ofLiberte, Egalite, Fraternite and Indivisibilite written on every one. She especially loved the wide, elegant boulevards, so thickly planted with trees the branches almost met in a cool green arch. And under those branches there seemed to be a constant scene of festivity.

Parisians did much of their social ising out of doors, and Tallie adored the outdoor cafes, where it seemed a thousand happy people sat, quaffing lemonade, wine, cider, beer or coffee. They strolled through parks where she was delighted by the "Theatres for the People' as they were called--outdoor booths with conjurers, puppet shows, menageries and music, always music playing some- I where, on an organ, fiddle, harmonica, tambourine or flute.

And when, finally, night fell, and she thought they must return to the hotel, Magnus took her to a place where a thousand lamps sparkled like fireflies in the branches of the trees, and a hundred flickering candles lit tiny intimate tables. There he ordered champagne and a meal, and Tallie ate her first dinner in Paris out of doors, totally enraptured. The food was delicious, but she could not recall afterwards what it was, for she was entranced by the sights and sounds of Paris all around her, and by the sight of her handsome, silent, considerate husband, who had so splendidly made amends for his earlier inept.i.tude.

And afterwards they strolled back to their hotel. And Magnus came to her room.

Chapter Ten.

Tallie braced herself and gritted her teeth. The tension was unbearable. She couldn't stand much more. Her body was sheened in sweat. She clutched the sheets on either side of her stiffened body and imagined them shredding under the pressure. She knew exactly how they felt--if sheets could feel, that was.

"Oh, for heaven's sake get it over with," she gasped.

"I can't take much more of this!"

Magnus, naked and sweating from his labours, froze. He stared at his bride of two weeks, outraged. Never, never had any female dared to suggest he was less than adequate in the bedchamber! And this chit, barely out of her virginity, was daring to criticise! He swung himself away from her body, and she gathered the sheet against her to cover her nakedness.

Tallie stared at his furious face, appalled at her own lack of tact.

She hadn't meant to say it--it had just slipped out.

"I'm sorr--' she began.

"So I should think!" he rapped.

"I've never been so insulted in my life."

"Well, but--' " Do you think it is easy for me, making love every night to a bride as cold and unmoving as a corpse? "

"I have no idea, never having considered-the matter, although it seems to me you do not exactly dislike the procedure. In any case, it is very difficult for me, too!" Tallie was incensed by his criticism.

"You have no idea how difficult. It is pure torture!" "Torture?" Magnus's grey eyes glittered with rage.

"Torturej is it?"

He was mortified. Furious. He had half a mind to storm out of the bedchamber and abandon her then and there. He glared down at her. It would serve her right if he throttled her where she lay, clutching that sheet so inadequately, provoking a response from his body despite his fury. He wanted to rip the sheet away and tumble her until she cried for mercy!

Except that she already had!

He was her husband, for G.o.d's sake! And she was his wife! His wife! He had every right to take her when and how he liked! And besides, she owed him children.

"Well, madam wife," he said stiffly, "I am afraid you must endure more of that torture until you are with child."

"I know it!" she retorted.

"And if you care to recall, I did not tell you to stop. I said to hurry up and get it over with. The sooner I am with child, the better, I say."

"Very well, then," he muttered grimly, and, ripping the sheet from her clutches, he returned to his labours. By G.o.d, he would wring a response out of her if it killed him!

He used every skill and technique in his repertoire, stroking, caressing, teasing, his hands and mouth fully occupied.

"Enough!" she shrieked, pushing him off her at last.

"I can do it no more."

"Do what?" he snarled, frustrated.

"You're doing nothing."

"Well, of course I am doing nothing--what else would I do? And it takes every bit of concentration I have. Why can you not simply get on with it? Why must it take so much time?"

Concentration? Magnus swore. And was she complaining about the amount of time he took? If so, she was the first woman in his experience ever to complain of that. He started to pull on his clothes. He had no intention of staying in a room with her any longer, otherwise he might find himself strangling her. And it was simply not done to murder

brides on their bride trip. Not in his family, at any rate."I understand now what my cousin meant. It is inhuman to expect womento endure that night after night," said Tallie rebelliously, wrappingthe sheet tightly around her.

Magnus paused, one leg sliding into his trousers.

"What do you mean--what your cousin meant?"

"My cousin warned me that my marital duties would prove to be difficult

and painful."He frowned."Painful? I am causing you pain?""No... not pain, precisely. It... it is just... unbearable."She continued muttering angrily into the pillow while he finished dressing. Magnus attempted to block out her ugly words. So his lovemaking was unbearable to her, was it? Then his ears picked up one sentence and he was riveted.

'to be forced to lie there night after night, not moving or uttering asound, while a husband creates wondrously pleasurable sensations. "Wondrously pleasurable sensations? Magnus dropped his shirt."What did you say just now?" he demanded, his voice harsh.She blinked up at him. There were tears in her eyes."You said, " wondrously pleasurable sensations"."Tallie sniffed and dropped her head.

"Yes, well..." She turned a deep, fiery pink. Magnus stared down at her with narrowed eyes. Part of him wanted to storm out and give vent to his injured masculine pride. The rest of him wanted to solve the mystery. It seemed to hinge on one point--my cousin warned me.

He sat down on the bed.

"Tell me, Tallie. What exactly did our dear cousin Laet.i.tia tell you