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The Courtier's Tale Ch. 01

By: zutoph507



This is my first submission to this site. I hope you'll all enjoy it.

Xxxxxx

*

"Marcel! Slow down, curse you! Marcel!"

Lord Valmont laughed merrily. His friend was somewhere behind him, unwilling to ride at the same gruelling pace. There was something hot and fierce in galloping a horse at such dangerous speeds. It was exhilarating and, in all respects, unbearably stupid. He was, however, running swiftly out of open country and the tree line was looming inescapably close. 

Slowing the horse to a cantering trot, Marcel reined back for a wide turn and began to canter back the way he'd come. Francis Montreaux bore down on him, his expression piqued. "God in heaven! Are you trying to kill that horse?" 

Marcel flashed his friend a bright smile. He had dark eyes and his chestnut curls were forever trying to escape the ribbon binding his hair. Francis was beautiful; a blue eyed golden blonde. Marcel had long ago given up hope that his friend would ever return the infatuation he felt. "Perhaps I am. Well come on then. For you I will slow my horse to a civilized gait." 

"How obliging of you, my Lord." Francis responded dryly.

Marcel merely laughed, cantering back towards the villa, his friend in tow. "Indeed. I'm often quite obliging when it comes to you."

Francis turned suspicious blue eyes on his dusky friend. "Oh? What do you want Marcel?"

"Me? Why nothing, today." His dark eyes sparkled as he smirked at his friend. "However, I will be taking a much needed sabbatical from the courtly life to visit Anna. I haven't seen her or my darling niece in six months or more." 

"God, Marcel. Who was it this time?"

"I don't know what you mean, my lord."

Francis only snorted. "Marcel, despite your sister's pleasant disposition and forgiving nature, you are a creature of the court, a gentleman of refinement and a lover of far too many. The only reason you would travel out there is to avoid the gossips until they all have something more juicy to go on about. So who is he? A footman? Someone's butler? Perhaps the son of a prominent tailor or one of your valets? Or, God forbid, an ill advised love affair with some other aristocrat?"

Francis raised an elegant eyebrow at him while Lord Valmont pouted on his horse. "Alright, Francis. It's Beauxfort's youngest son."

"Beauxfort? Are you mad? God, Marcel, how did that happen?" 

"Well, I was at Bellisand's party and the two of us had far too much wine, I suppose. Anyhow, he woke in my arms upset and outraged."

"I can't imagine why."

"Go to hell."

"So what happened then?"

"He went to his father and screamed bloody murder."

"Ah. So then the esteemed Marquis du Beauxfort approached your father?"

"Damn it, Francis. He told me to visit my sister. He doesn't want to see my miserable face anywhere near the court for the next year if I know what's good for me." He sighed in a dejected manner. "I'll have nothing more exciting to look at but cows and filthy stable boys."

"It's your own fault you know."

Valmont continued to pout as they rode but he said nothing.

"So other than the pleasure it gives me to tell you what an idiot you are, what does this have to do with me?"

Marcel turned large brown eyes on his friend. "Francis, I can't endure the torture of Anna's small provincial villa alone. I'll expire from boredom in mere weeks."

Francis gave the other man an incredulous look. "I'm not going with you, Marcel."

"Anna would be so pleased to see you, Francis, and my niece adores you."

Lord Montreaux snorted. "I can just hear the gossip now. 'Did you hear? Valmont's in disgrace again and this time for debauching the Marquis's son. No! Yes! Now Valmont and Montreaux have retired to Perigueux! They went together? They certainly did!' No thank you." Francis gave Marcel a scathing look. "Why should I join you in your current disgrace, Marcel?"

"Please, Francis, just travel out there with me. It's a bloody long way and carriages can be so tedious after the first two miles."

"Not a chance."

"It isn't fair, you know. If this was some serving maid or ambassador's daughter, I doubt my father would care who I was fucking."

Francis laughed merrily. "No servant's daughter will ever be asked to give her questionable virtue to you, Valmont." They both smiled and Francis sighed dramatically. "In a month I can invent some excuse to leave Paris that has nothing to do with you."

"So you'll come then?"

"Yes, Marcel. I'll come to visit you in exile." He pointed his finger at his friend. "I'm not travelling with you and I'll only be able to stay for six weeks or so."

Marcel du Valmont smiled softly. "Thank you, Francis."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He'd rarely been so terribly bored. Marcel had been travelling for four endless days with only one valet for company. The other man kept his eyes lowered and spoke only if addressed directly. Marcel had never seriously considered the thin and taciturn young man as a lover. However, he'd seen nothing but Joseph's absurdly sober expression for mile after dreary mile. He had to admit that his attendant was starting to look good to him.

The carriage lurched to a stop and Valmont parted the curtain in curiosity. "Another inn? God in heaven, aren't we there yet?" 

Joseph rose wordlessly and held the door open for his lord. After Marcel stepped down from the carriage, his valet held the door for the inn as well. 

The dining room was small but well lit and the food wasn't bad at all. Throughout the meal, Marcel was distracted by his attendant. The man stepped forward to refill his glass with wine and the young lord's eyes lingered on Joseph's long and slender fingers. Marcel allowed his gaze to travel up that arm towards the unsmiling face. Their eyes met for a moment before his servant looked away. There was the slightest blush of pink in those pale cheeks. The gentle curving of Marcel's mouth hinted at the smile he kept hidden.

Normally when a meal had ended, Marcel would retire to the library if there was one and Joseph would take his own supper in the kitchens. When it was time for bed, Lord Valmont's attendant would undress him and put him to bed. This had been the routine in his life for as long as Marcel could remember no matter who his personal valet actually was.

This evening, he'd decided to vary his usual routine. Marcel stared absently out the windows of the country inn. He watched the last rays of sunlight disappear from the heavens before summoning his servant. His valet appeared with a lantern already lit. 

"I'll be retiring early, Joseph. Show me to my room please."

If the other man felt any surprise, he hid it well. "This way, my lord."

Marcel followed him up the narrow staircase, admiring the slender lines of his body. When the other man turned down his bedding, the young Parisian lord could feel his excitement rise. Perhaps his sojourn in the provinces would hold some interest after all. He smirked as Joseph began to undress him. His valet's touch was impersonal and efficient. As the dark haired servant began to unbuckle his belt, Marcel reached out and grasped his wrists firmly. The other man's head shot up in alarm, his dark eyes widening in surprise.

"My Lord?"

Marcel tugged on those delicate wrists firmly, pulling the other man into his embrace. Joseph was trembling slightly and a pink blush of colour was deepening in his valet's sallow cheeks. He pressed his lips against Joseph's, forcing his tongue into the other man's mouth. His small and desperate whimper only increased Marcel's lust and he began backing his valet toward the bed. 

Breaking the kiss, Marcel licked his way down Joseph's jaw and throat, pushing him roughly onto his back. "Relax. I won't hurt you." He began undressing the taciturn man beneath him with practised hands. 

"My lord, please. I'm only a servant."

Marcel looked into the other man's dark and frightened eyes. "Ah, yes. You are a servant. My servant in fact. Your position is quite lucrative and enviable to those who serve above stairs. Don't you agree?" The slender man merely bit his lip and nodded. Marcel pushed the shirt and vest off Joseph's shoulders. "You are quite pretty without clothes, monsieur. I never would have guessed." Valmont then stripped his valet completely and stood up. His britches were still partly opened and the evidence of his excitement bulged within the confines of his satin trousers. "You may finish undressing me."

The other man averted his eyes and knelt, naked before his lord. "Yes, sir." Those long and beautiful hands removed each of his shoes with tender care. Next came the trousers and the hose beneath them. Joseph kept his eyes lowered and his head bowed adorably throughout these ministrations.

Marcel laughed softly as the final scrap of clothing fell away from his body. Tucking his fingers beneath Joseph's chin he lifted the man's face upwards. Those eyes were wide open, dilated and resigned. "Have you been with any man before now, Joseph?"

"No, my lord."

He smirked. "Perfect. I look forward to training you." He tightened his hold on the other man's chin and pressed the tip of his engorged cock against those thin and trembling lips. "If you lick your lips first it will feel better for both of us."

Joseph's tongue slid out and wet his mouth, brushing against the eager, dripping cock in front of him. "Lick me, Joseph, taste my flavour." The other man did as he was told, licking tentatively and bit by bit, sliding his lips further down his master's pole. Eventually those dark eyes fluttered shut and Marcel's valet was sucking up and down his shaft with greater ease. The young lord sifted his fingers through the other man's hair, playing idly with it as he groaned in pleasure. 

"Mm-hm. Yes... enough. Lay down on the bed, Joseph." 

Marcel watched the other man comply with hot eyes. He knelt between his spread legs, pleased to see that their activities were affecting him. Curling his fingers around Joseph's cock, he played with it for a few moments. His servant's surprised gasp of pleasure made Marcel lick his lips in anticipation. He flicked his tongue over the slit sensually and then enveloped him with his mouth. Marcel could feel the other man growing harder as he moaned wantonly. 

When he lifted his head, Joseph whimpered a small protest. Marcel kissed him deeply and reached for the vial of oil on the bedside table. He smirked; knowing the other man had simply obeyed his earlier instructions concerning it. The rich scent of jasmine filled the air as he poured a generous amount into his hands. 

"Try to relax, Joseph." Marcel stared into the man's eyes as he inserted an oil slick finger into him and then another. Joseph's mewling whimpers of discomfort would soon vanish. He was confident of that. "You're so beautiful," he scissored his fingers inside the other man's tight entrance. "I can hardly wait to fuck you, Joseph." His valet's eyes grew wider and rounder, like two dark pools. 

Slicking his cock, Marcel pushed it slowly into the other man. He groaned as Joseph trembled and panted harshly beneath him. Lifting the slender man's hips, Marcel pulled back and forced himself the rest of the way inside him. Joseph's sharp cry made lust surge through his body, but Marcel resisted the urge to fuck him senseless until he had adjusted. 

Several minutes passed as Marcel felt Joseph's body become less tense. He began moving tenderly in and out of him, gradually picking up speed. The other man was soon gasping and moaning beneath him. The young french lord pressed his lips hungrily against his mouth. Marcel could feel the urgency of his need rising and thrust harder into him, making Joseph come suddenly, his legs jerking and tightening around him. "Oh yes! Fuck you're tight!" The clenching of Joseph's anal ring sent Marcel over the edge into ecstasy. He cried out loudly as he came deep within his valet's quivering body.

Valmont pulled out slowly and gazed at Joseph's cum covered stomach. "Go clean up, then return to my bed."

"Yes, my lord." Joseph spoke quietly, avoiding Marcel's eyes, as he rose to obey.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Though it rained for much of the day, the carriage was dry inside and Marcel felt more relaxed than he had in some time. His eyes travelled lustfully over his personal attendant. Joseph had satisfied him well. He'd awakened that morning and rolled the taciturn man onto his stomach, using him thoroughly before continuing their journey. Marcel wasn't deluded into thinking that his valet was entirely willing. Still, Joseph accepted him without much complaint and moaned enticingly when he fucked him. He supposed he couldn't ask for much more than that.

Joseph's hands clenched slowly into fists as Marcel studied him. Lord Valmont smirked, that small spark of rebellion made dominating his valet much more exciting. "Perhaps we'll arrive at my sister's villa this evening." His tone was light and carefree.

His valet's head shot up in surprise. Marcel never engaged the man in conversation, speaking to him only to issue commands or berate him for some lack. He looked away at once, his face flushing a deep crimson.

"I'm looking forward to bedding you after a long day of travel." The French lord was amused by the sudden tension in Joseph's slight frame as his servant tried to look anywhere but directly at him. Oh yes, it was going to be a long while before he tired of the serious young man. Of that he was certain.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As anticipated, it was late evening when the carriage finally passed the iron gates of his sister's holdings. Not wishing to spend the night in the rough-hewn tavern they'd passed some miles ago, Marcel had ordered the driver to continue to the Montblanc estate. He was exhausted and simply wanted a bath and a bed. Joseph was napping quietly opposite him as they rolled to a stop in front of the enormous villa.

Lifting the curtain, Lord Valmont could see the butler and several other servants approaching. Doubtless they would unload his luggage so he could enjoy the rest of his evening in peace. He eye fell once again on the sleeping valet and the corners of his mouth curled upwards. He wanted Joseph in his bed, but was aware that this was not his father's house. Marcel let out a quiet sigh. His sister was a devout catholic and would be unlikely to forgive him if he was openly bedding his manservant under her roof.

The young lord shook Joseph awake just as his sister's butler opened the carriage door. His valet blinked sleepily at him; clearly not awake enough to realise he was staring his lord directly in the face. The voice of the butler distracted them both from the unguarded moment.

"Lord Valmont. A pleasure to see you again, sir." The elderly man bowed from the waist. 

"Yes." He exited the carriage, followed closely by his valet.

"I'm afraid Lady Montblanc has already dined this evening. You must be hungry. Shall I rouse the kitchen staff, sir?"

Marcel waved his hand dismissively. "No, don't bother. Have someone draw a bath and Joseph will help you prepare my room. He will attend me this evening, so you needn't go to much trouble." As they entered the large mansion, Marcel caught the butler by the elbow. "Is Anna still awake, by chance?"

"No, my lord. I'm afraid she retired early. If we had known you were arriving tonight, I'm sure the lady would have sat up for you."

Marcel smiled softly at him. "It's quite alright. I'm sure she'll forgive me if I present myself to her in the morning."

"Of course, sir."

I smiled to myself as I was led to the bathhouse. Anna was already in bed. That suited my needs perfectly.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The morning dawned bright and clear. Although it was Joseph who roused Marcel from his slumber. He was already dressed and had brought a tea service. The lord blinked sleep from his eyes as he watched his valet pour a cup for him and butter his toast.

"Lady Montblanc has requested your presence at breakfast, my lord."

"I'm sure she has." He sat up further and took the offered saucer. "I believe I may get quite the dressing down before she welcomes me." Her laughed lightly. "Francis thinks her a quiet and demure woman, poor fool."

After finishing his tea, he allowed Joseph to dress him. The outfit his valet chose for him was both tasteful and elegant enough to portray his station without overstepping his boundaries as a guest. He nodded his approval. Joseph was truly gifted when it came to such niceties. It was the reason he'd given the position to such a young man. 

Joseph took a step back when he finished dressing Marcel. However, the young lord took one large step forward wrapping his arms around his servant and covering Joseph's mouth in a hungry kiss. Marcel smirked around his lips as Joseph let out a distressed noise and struggled in his grasp. After a moment more, Marcel let go of him enjoying the other man's flustered expression and the outrage in his eyes before he lowered them to the floor.

"I'm afraid that I was much too tired to enjoy you last night." He stoked Joseph's cheek tenderly. "I'll remedy that soon enough."

Joseph was shaking visibly as he gestured towards the door. "This way, my lord."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Anna Montblanc was a petite woman in her mid-thirties, with hair and skin as dark as Marcel's own. Despite her small appearance, the lady had a sober presence that was hard to miss. She was dressed in the silver-grey of half mourning, as the late Count du Montblanc had passed only a year previous. She looked up from her meal and pinned him with predatory eyes.

"Marcel. It's been sometime since you last graced my house."

He bowed slightly, regarding her from beneath his long lashes. "Indeed it's been too long. It's always such a pleasure to see you, Anna."

She snorted derisively. "Sit."

Marcel frowned slightly and moved to obey. He was unreasonably conscious of his valet close behind him. He could see Anna rest her steely gaze on his servant as Joseph took his place behind his chair. 

"I see you brought a manservant with you." Her tone was icy.

"It is customary for a lord of my station to travel with one's valet and squire."

"Normally that is the only use a gentleman makes of his servants."

Marcel raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and kept his gaze level. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Joseph began pouring his tea as Anna answered him. "Let me be frank with you, Marcel. Our father sent me a message regarding your visit." She paused to let the information sink in properly. "I'm aware of your current disgrace along with the reasons for it. You may stay beneath my roof only so long as your behaviour remains exemplary."

"My dear sister, of course I would never do anything to embarrass you..." It was as far as he got. She slammed her fist on the table in a most unbecoming manner, causing both men to jump.

"Enough of your courtly games, Marcel. I have little patience for your Parisian sensibilities. You are here to repent your misdeeds and I will not tolerate indecent behaviour." She pointed her finger at him, nailing him with her strong gaze. "There will be no sinning against God and man in my manor house! Am I clear?"

"Perfectly."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marcel stared out the elongated windows of Montblanc Manor. It had not escaped his notice that Elizabeth, his pretty niece, had not been present during breakfast. No doubt Anna didn't want her pure ears stained with the talk of his indecent behaviour. Marcel sniffed haughtily. The great old prude had no idea what she was talking about. Anger and despair rose up inside him. No doubt she would throw him out if was caught bedding another man and then what would his father do to him? He'd been ordered to remain here. That much had been made painfully clear to him.


The Courtier's Tale Ch. 02



Marcel was doing his best to appear attentive as Anna gossiped heavily about her neighbours in the surrounding barony. Elizabeth's harp chimed beautifully beneath her pretty fingers, while giving out occasional discordant notes. David spoke softly to her, instructing and correcting the young woman in a low soothing voice that did not carry. A perfect compliment to the sitting rooms of any aristocratic house. Marcel flicked his eyes over the Irishman as covertly as possible. The man would've been able to teach in many of the fine parlours Paris had to offer; yet here he was in this backwater. Marcel couldn't imagine why. His French was well executed and he seemed to have excellent manners for a commoner.

His gaze travelled over the delicate and masculine lines of David's body. His frame was small with a beautifully tapered back ending in a very narrow waist and a nicely rounded bottom. Just looking at it was enough to make Marcel shift restlessly. 

"Are you listening to me, Marcel?"

His eyes shot to Anna's stern face. He forced a placid smile and smoothed his features. "As well as I am able. Being only man, I've not much of a head for such details of gossip, my dear."

His sister's eyes flashed warningly. "Do not think to make sport of me."

His dark eyes grew round with feigned innocence. "Of course not, Anna. Such a thing would be unbecoming of me. We can't all be ill tempered and rude. Where would the fun be in that?" He smirked at her and enjoyed the annoyance flushing her cheeks. The first win goes to me, thought Marcel quite smugly. He turned his attention back toward David and Elizabeth. The old dragon couldn't chastise him without making his point for him. It gave him great pleasure to fence with his sister this way. It was certainly the only entertainment she'd willingly afford him.

He gazed at the Irishman with open interest and continued talking with his sister. "Will your guest be joining us for dinner, Anna?" Marcel could feel the anger and disgust radiating from her. Still, so long as he did nothing more than look there was little she could do about it.

"Indeed he will be." Her voice lowered considerably and she hissed at him. "He is a godly man. Do not think to entice him with your lewd flirting, Marcel." She paused, her gaze flicking to the oblivious harpist for only a moment. "Bear in mind what our father will likely do to you if you disgrace yourself here."

Marcel's mouth thinned to a grim line. Paris scandals were not uncommon among the sons of noble houses. A man could afford a small amount of gossip from time to time. Still, Marcel's particular vices were not easily forgiven. Disgracing his sister's well-respected name so soon after being banished from Paris would ruin him utterly. Their father would likely disinherit him and that would never do.

"There's no need to belabour the point, my dear." He sipped the brandy and sulked, all too aware of Anna's gloating smile.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marcel was deep in his thoughts as Joseph dressed him for dinner in burgundy and gold brocade. He wanted to bed the Irish music teacher. David was Anna's friend and as much a puritan as she was herself. It would make seducing him a sweet victory indeed. He pursed his lips in annoyance. The whispered gossip following such an unlikely conquest was half the fun of it. Still, it couldn't be helped. Even if he did as he wished, no one could be allowed to find out. Especially not his unforgiving, narrow-minded witch of a sibling. 

His gaze rested on Joseph's hands as they deftly fastened the buttons on his coat. The man was still quite fresh and Marcel fully intended to enjoy both men if possible. Still, he had to be careful, Anna likely had spies somewhere to ensure his purity beneath her roof. The young lord slipped his hands around his valet's waist and leaned into him. The man's dark eyes rose upwards and remained fixed on Marcel's face. 

"Lady Montblanc seems to think my relationship with you is less than chaste, Joseph." The man said nothing his expression wary and guarded. "She must come to believe you are quite innocent of other men," He placed an unhurried kiss on Joseph's neck, nipping the skin with the points of his teeth, "and that you certainly are not sharing a bed with me." Marcel's hands slid lower and cupped his cheeks firmly, pressing their bodies closer together. The lord was panting lightly and hardening rapidly. "Do you understand?"

His servant swallowed and nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

"Good." Marcel pressed his lips against Joseph's, slipping his tongue easily into the slighter man's mouth. He squeezed and rubbed his bottom with slow deliberation and Joseph moaned helplessly into the kiss. 

A polite knock outside his chamber made him tense. He released his servant with reluctance and watched as Joseph pulled open the ornate bedroom doors. Anna's butler stood there and bowed slightly for him. The elder man's eyes swept the room with casual ease, no doubt searching for evidence of an interrupted tryst. Marcel smiled wickedly at him. Not a thing was out of place and the lord himself was fully and impeccably dressed.

"Dinner is served, my lord. This way, please."

Marcel followed him from the room with easy grace, his personal servant trailing after them. 

The dining room was far more impressive than the light and airy breakfast nook. A long mahogany table sporting a wide assortment of trays and delicacies was presided over by Lady Montblanc. David sat near Anna's right with Elizabeth on her left. A young man in Montblanc livery stood behind the chair next to his niece. As Marcel approached, he pulled out the chair in silent expectation.

"I prefer my own servants at table, Anna." Marcel spoke stiffly as he seated himself, holding his glass towards his own servant. 

No one spoke as Joseph poured red wine into the crystal flute. Although his sister's thin lipped disapproval was not lost on him, David's steady blue-grey eyes held the bulk of his attention. He could read nothing in those eyes, further piquing Marcel's interest.

The clipped tones of his sister cut into Marcel like claws. "This is hardly appropriate, Marcel. The man is your valet and this is my house."

Marcel brought the glass to his lips and regarded his sister with hooded eyes. "He is my valet when I am dressing or require a bath. He is my squire when serving me wine and fetching my horse. Most importantly, he is my adjutant when I must make wide ranging travel plans on short notice and need small niceties such as fresh lace, food and a decent bed to sleep in." He spread his hands wide to implore them. "I would be thrilled to travel with an entourage, my dear. However, father has allowed me only one servant, so what can I do?"

Elizabeth's unexpected laughter filled the room. "Oh really, uncle! You say such funny things."

"How so?" He smiled at her indulgently.

"An adjutant is a military officer!" She dissolved into further giggles on his behalf. 

"Quite right, my dear. A military officer who handles all the dull paperwork and administrative duties his seniors cannot do without." He tapped her nose. "That is what Joseph does for me."

"This is hardly appropriate conversation for a young lady, Marcel. Military matters are not worthy pursuits for a young woman of quality."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her. "Of course, Anna."

A conversational pause settled over the small group for long moments. The young lord fidgeted in his seat and met David's eyes across the table. "Tell me monsieur, how did you come to be teaching music in the south of France?"

"I've always loved music and showed an aptitude for the harp when I was young. My parents have cousins in Rouen, financiers by trade. When I was sixteen, they offered to pay for furthering my education in music. Guy then convinced my father to allow me to study music in Paris." He paused thoughtfully and sipped the wine. "I learned a great many things there. Paris is such an unbelievable place. I left for Marseilles as soon as I could. Finding a patron in that southern city was hard work and took some time." He gave Marcel's sister a soft smile. "Madame was vacationing there and we happened to meet. Thus, I am here today."

Marcel raised an elegant brow ever so slightly. "Finding a wealthy patron would have been considerably easier in Paris, would it not?" 

David's nose crinkled in distaste. "I'm sure it would have."

Silence descended, broken only by the soft clinking of silverware and porcelain. Curious, Marcel attempted to coax more information from the Irishman. "Forgive me for prying but..."

"You are not forgiven, Marcel!" Anna's grating interruption made Valmont wince. "David prefers a quiet lifestyle far from the current debaucheries of the court. As do I." She settled her angry gaze fully upon her younger sibling. "The air is fresh and the water is clean. We live a simple life here as God intended."

Marcel braced himself for a lengthy tirade. She opened her mouth to berate him further and paused. David was touching her wrist lightly, his eyes apologetic. "Your pardon, my lady. Perhaps these things are best discussed out of present company." He glanced pointedly at Elizabeth. "At a later time perhaps?" 

To Lord Valmont's great surprise, Anna relented and smiled graciously at the music teacher. "You're quite right, David. I'll speak with you later, Marcel."

Elizabeth pouted, though she wisely held her tongue. Marcel was relieved to have avoided one of Anna's diatribes. Yet, he was disturbed as well. Anna was not one to give ground to anyone. Well... anyone but Francis. Marcel regarded David over the lip of his glass, carefully planning his next move. 

The meal drew to a close and Marcel caught David's eye as he rose from the table. "Would you care to join me for a glass of cognac, monsieur?" 

David smiled softly at him. "It would be my pleasure."

Marcel noted the disapproving frown on his sister's face. A thrill of dark satisfaction filled him and he smoothed his features into a mask of doting concern. "You look unwell, Anna. Will you be joining us or retiring early?" He offered David a warm and friendly expression. "Women are such frail creatures. In this house full of them, sharing a drink with other gentlemen is a pleasure. I fear it won't be often given me."

Red suffused Anna's cheekbones, as her mouth became a thin angry line. She looked as though she might explode into outrage at any moment. David stepped towards her, concern in his light blue eyes. "Your brother's right, my lady. You don't look well at all. Perhaps you should lie down."

Anna stared at the Irishman as if she'd never seen him before. Then she collected herself with some effort. "Do I? I will take my leave of you now, David. Will you be joining us for Sabbath?"

"Of course, my lady."

"My hired men will fetch your horse whenever you've tired of my brother's company." Lady Montblanc's eyes glittered dangerously as she passed Marcel. He watched her retreating back from the corner of his eye. He was elated. As they made their way to the drawing room, Marcel allowed his gaze to linger on the music teacher.

Several lamps were lit within the cosy gallery. Marcel settled himself on the plush divan. "Fetch us a bottle of cognac, Joseph. Then you may retire for the evening." His valet nodded and left the room, his face utterly expressionless.

"Your servant is quite a dour fellow."

"What? Oh yes..." Marcel smiled widely and waved his hand in dismissal. " He's been in my service a full year now. Joseph is quiet and knows when to mind his own business." He lowered his lashes coquettishly and adopted a soothing tone. "I find myself curious about you, monsieur. Most everyone I've known prefers Paris to any country villa. They all long to be invited to court. Yet... you do not?"

David folded his hands in lap and looked absently out the window. "Paris wasn't to my taste."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I come from a middle class family in Ireland. Compared to what I've seen in Paris, I'd led quite the sheltered life before then." He paused and gazed wryly at Marcel. "My father's relatives employed a tutor for me in necessary social graces. Alongside my musical studies of course. They believed such a thing was essential to finding me a patron among the French nobility." He chuckled softly. "Indeed. They were right." David lapsed into silence as Joseph returned with the items his lord had requested.

Marcel frowned and flicked his fingers irritably at the dark haired servant. When he left them, the young lord poured the amber liquid and handed David the tiny glass. "What happened then?"

The slender man looked at him sharply. "I doubt you'd find it very interesting, my lord." He took the glass with a wry quirk to his lips. "I wonder what you might think of me. You are, after all, an aristocrat of the Parisian court."

"Indeed I am. The very reason why gossip has become second nature to me." The points of Marcel's teeth showed, like tiny white razors resting on his lower lip. He rose and seated himself beside the Irishman, all but purring into his ear. "We are both men, Monsieur Colton. There is very little that has the power to shock me." His voice lowered into a sensual growl. "You can tell me anything."

David tensed noticeably and an uncomfortable silence stretched between them. "My lord... though I've no doubt that you're a worldly man..." he hesitated.

"Go on, David. Please. I want to hear all about it."

"Well... as you observed earlier, finding a patron in Paris would have been easy. I had several offers in fact." Oddly, David's tone was sharp and bitter. "A few of the lords who interviewed me were not as interested in my music as I would've hoped. They had other pursuits in mind."

"Really?" Valmont smiled and placed his hand on David's knee. Running his fingers slowly up the other man's thigh, Marcel felt his excitement rising. "Tell me, monsieur, did you allow them to take liberties with you?"

David Colton sat utterly still, his face flushed. Then he sprang to his feet abruptly and took two swift steps away from the little couch. "Certainly not!" 

Marcel gathered himself quickly and stood with fluid grace. David's back was to him and he closed the distance, slipping deft hands around David's waist. "Why ever not? You are quite beautiful. As is your music."

David attempted to wrench himself free of the lord's grasp. "Don't!" Marcel had dealt with this type of resistance before. He spun the Irishman around and pushed his back against a painted wall. "Let me go!" the slender man's hands tore at Valmont to be free, until the lord pinned them to either side of him. 

"You're quite spirited. I'm sure I will enjoy you immensely."

"Lady Montblanc..."

"Has gone to bed, monsieur. Come now. You're little more than a hired servant, aren't you?" He surveyed David body quite casually. "I'm asking no more of you than any hired man. Though so very few of them have your charm and beauty, monsieur."

"What? How dare you! Release me at once!"

" Quietly, monsieur. Someone may discover us. My sister would be truly appalled. Your reputation is above reproach in my sister's eyes. Why give her a reason to doubt you?" Marcel pressed his lips over the other man's mouth. He could hardly wait. "I'll give you pleasure, Monsieur Colton. I promise you that."

David's eyes were cold and hard. He stopped struggling and merely stared at Marcel. "Alright, my lord. Let me go and I'll do as you wish." His voice was soft and icy. There was something dangerous about the way the music teacher spoke to him. Valmont's anticipation grew and he relaxed his hold on the smaller man. He was wholly unprepared for the vicious kick that exploded against his hip. The blow narrowly missed his arousal, though it was still breathtakingly painful. Marcel crumpled to his knees as David twisted free of him and fled.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Joseph took the tea tray with toast into Marcel's room. The young lord's jacket lay in a heap near the bed along with his shoes. He set the tray down on the side table, surprised to find his lord still dressed and very much alone. Joseph studied Marcel's smooth and elegant features before reaching out to wake him. Thinly plucked eyebrows arched over the closed lids. Long and sooty lashes rested above the lord's cheekbones. His mouth was plump but not overly so. The line of his jaw was acceptably masculine and his ears were small and shapely. As though they'd been sculpted of something.

Joseph's face softened and he tucked a chestnut lock behind Marcel's ear. Caressing the dusky cheek gently, he shook his master's shoulder until the eyes fluttered open.

"My lord? I've brought your morning tea." 

Marcel sat up and noticed the second teacup on the tray beside an unusually large amount of toast. "Were you planning to join me, Joseph?" Valmont's tone was low and dangerous. Joseph poured tea into his cup, his hand shaking lightly. 

"No, my lord." He hesitated, unsure if he should continue. "I expected you would have company." He kept his eyes carefully lowered as he passed the cup to Marcel. Still, the upset in the lord's tone was impossible to miss.

"Humph! Damned bourgeoisie!"

Joseph began to relax, only half listening to Valmont's muttered complaints. He'd seen him like this on a few occasions. He walked over to the wardrobe and began selecting Marcel's attire for the day. Draping the items over a chair, Joseph realized the lord had lapsed into silence. He paused and glanced at him furtively.

Valmont was staring at him. Lust was there is his expression, along with something dark and forbidding. "Come here, Joseph."

He swallowed and walked slowly over to the bed. Marcel flipped the covers down and began unlacing his own shirt. Joseph merely stood there, his heart racing in his chest. Lord Valmont looked up at him and discarded the soft linen shirt. "Well?"

There seemed to be little option. Joseph slipped out of his shoes and lay down carefully beside the other man. He was afraid and excited despite himself. He would never have chosen this lord as a lover. Yet he couldn't deny that he enjoyed his touch. 

Marcel climbed on top of him, kissed him fiercely and began unbuckling his belt. "We have very little time, Joseph. One of Anna's servants could arrive at any moment." Joseph's breath caught in his throat and he squirmed in the lord's grasp. He understood that it was pointless to struggle, but he simply couldn't help it. Valmont treated him like a whore and he hated that. "Stop fighting me, Joseph. You are mine, aren't you?" He nodded wordlessly and tried very hard to be still. "Good. Now roll over."

He did as he was bid, laying his cheek against the pillow. Marcel pushed his trousers down his thighs and prepared him rapidly with oil. Joseph groaned when he felt the other man slide into him. It felt so good he could almost forget how little his lord really cared about him. Marcel whispered endearments about how tight he was and how delicious he felt. The words made Joseph's already dripping cock ache with lust. He moaned for Valmont like a dockside slattern until he came, followed soon after by the lord's own release.

They lay together for several minutes and then Marcel pulled suddenly out of him. "Get out. I need a bath this morning. Don't come back until it's ready."

Joseph closed his eyes and felt his throat tighten with unshed tears. He bobbed his head respectfully and rose to obey.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Several days passed for Marcel without incident. David had not returned to the manor house since their last discussion. Marcel hadn't expected him to disappear so utterly. Still, Anna was his patron and Elizabeth, his student. Monsieur Colton would have to call on them again soon. 

Marcel smiled softly to himself. The anticipated chastising from his sister had not yet occurred. It was a pleasant, if unexpected, surprise. Yet, Anna had been quiet and withdrawn for much of the day. Their evening dinner had been an uneventful, somewhat strained event. The young lord rose with relief to take his drink in the upper drawing room. 




The Courtier's Tale Ch. 03



"Follow me, Joseph. Bring the tray." Lord Valmont strode toward his rooms with singular determination. Joseph trailed behind him, bearing the bottle of cognac with him. The quiet valet was certain that Lady Montblanc would not tolerate Marcel's recent behaviour. Yet he knew better than to make any comment.

Marcel stopped abruptly just three paces inside the door and swung around. Joseph very nearly walked into him. Scooping the bottle off the tray, Marcel filled his glass and drained it almost immediately. Joseph had never seen Marcel drink so much in the space of a mere few hours. 

"Damn it all! This bottle's empty." Marcel stared balefully at his valet. "Why are you still here, Joseph? Fetch me another!" 

"My lord." He bowed quickly and left. Although the young lord clearly needed no more of the strong liquor, Joseph would never dare to tell him so. 

He slipped through one of the many painted panels leading below stairs. As he passed by clusters of Anna's servants, his thoughts were focused on Marcel. Lord Valmont's obvious interest in the Irish music teacher made Joseph clench his fists. A few months ago he never would have cared. Joseph sighed and shook his head. He knew it was beyond foolish to allow the selfish lord into his heart. Marcel was merely using him and thought of nothing but his own pleasure. Repeating this to himself like a prayer, the somber man collected the liquor and began walking back to Marcel's rooms.

This time he noticed the way many of Anna's serving women stared at him and whispered to each other as he passed. He raised his chin and refused to acknowledge them. They all seemed aware of Marcel's particular taste in bed partners. As a result, they shunned his company and watched his every movement.

It hadn't been that way in Paris. Joseph missed the city almost as much as his master did. Friends and family had both been left behind. If he'd been there, he was sure that his friends among the family servants would've been less hostile.

Such thoughts were banished as Marcel's apartments came into view. He could hear angry voices through the closed doors, one of them clearly belonging to the lady of the house. Joseph knew he'd no right to spy on them. He was well aware that he should wait in the hall until summoned. Yet, he carefully turned the latch and eased the door open just a crack. 

"... made a mockery of myself and my hospitality! On a Holy Day no less! Father would—"

"Our father sent me to you! My dear sister," he sneered, "the paragon of discipline and virtue."

"That's right!" she snapped back. "What would become of you if I threw you out?"

"You wouldn't dare! It's not as though you don't have your own dirty secrets! What would father say if he knew of young Mr. Colton? You're entirely too fond of him, Anne!"

"What? How dare you threaten me! How dare you assume I feel such base emotions!"

"You've a point, I confess it. No harpy such as you would feel anything beyond her own self-righteousness."

There was a sharp crack, followed by silence. She'd actually struck her brother. Joseph inched closer to the door, wondering if it was over. No such luck, Anna berated her brother further as the valet listened.

"You concern yourself too much with my daughter's music teacher. I think you're jealous, little brother. You will stay away from him henceforth!"

"Really, Anna, do you honestly expect me to hide myself if he canters up the drive on his drab little pony?"

"I'll do better than that, Marcel." She hissed. "For the next week, you will remain in your suite unless summoned."

"Out of the question!" His outrage was palpable. Joseph wished he could see the young lord's face. 

"You will do as you're told, Marcel." Her voice was calm and even now, dangerously so. "You'll be lucky if I don't order you locked in these rooms. I ought to send your servant packing as well!" Joseph drew a sudden, sharp breath. Unfortunately she heard him. The door was jerked open an instant later and he stared into the lady's hateful gaze. 

"So! Your servant spies on us, Marcel!"

It was true enough, though one did well not to admit such a thing. Joseph bowed gracefully and knew he had to lie. "Not so my lady. The door was left ajar and I could not help but hear your last words. I apologize if I--"

Anna slapped him hard. "How dare you lie to me! I can—"

"That's enough, Anna." Marcel appeared by Joseph's side. "He is my servant. Father gave him to me."

"I beg your pardon? Are you protecting your catamite, now?"

Joseph blushed and lowered his eyes. "My lady, I'm nothing of the sort." 

Marcel smirked triumphantly. "There, you see. My valet is innocent of such things, dear sister. Surely I would never claim a common man as a lover? Even you must see that." The lord's tone was vile and mocking as he said it.

"No servant of yours is innocent, Marcel." She said darkly. "Furthermore, your disgusting habits have little to do with love. He was eaves dropping and ought to be punished." The look she gave Joseph was murderous.

"Indeed?" Marcel Valmont closed his hand around Joseph's arm and drew him inside the suite. "If he has been spying, I'll punish him myself. Good night, Anna." He shut the door in her outraged face and bolted it. 

Joseph wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but Marcel still held his arm tight. The look in his eyes was merciless, though his tone was quiet and soft. "I believe my sister is right, Joseph. How unfortunate for you."

"My—my lord, I—" 

"Be quiet!" He drew him close and whispered in the valet's ear. "I'm sure you realise what could happen to you?" Joseph trembled, aware that he could be sacked or even flogged for his temerity. Unable to speak, he nodded. "Good. Now then, what were you doing outside my door, Joseph?"

He held up the bottle that he'd been sent to retrieve. "My lord requested this." He whispered. 

Marcel chuckled in his ear. "So I did. It will taste almost as good as the sweat on your skin. Perhaps I might consider forgiving you. Get undressed." Valmont took the bottle and poured himself a glass. Dark eyes watched him over the rim of cut crystal. "I'm impressed you did not crumble beneath her scrutiny, Joseph."

Joseph draped his coat over a chair and began unbuttoning his shirt. "She did not believe me, my lord."

Marcel only snorted and drained the glass. "Of course she didn't. My sister isn't stupid, she simply has no proof." 

He stalked toward Joseph and ran his tapered fingers over his valet's bare chest. "She won't be back tonight. Take off the rest." Joseph did as he was told. "Ah, you're ready for me, aren't you?" Marcel's fingers slid smoothly around Joseph's hardened rod. He gasped and arched his back into Marcel's hand. "I'm pleased by how quickly you've learned to enjoy this, Joseph." The valet moaned as his body was kissed and groped, ashamed by how very much he wanted it. 

Their mouths met, exchanging hungry, passionate kisses. Joseph slid his hands down the front Marcel's flamboyant outfit. As he began to unlace his breeches, the young lord stepped suddenly away from him. 

"Not yet, Joseph." 

Marcel strode into the inner chamber, his heels clicking sharply on the marble parquetry. Sitting on the bed, Marcel leaned back on his elbows and extended one long leg into the air. "Shoes first." 

Joseph was aroused, naked and highly irritated. He knelt at his lord's feet and carefully removed the silken shoes. Instead of removing the breeches, as he normally would, Joseph slid his palms over Marcel's feet and up his calves. He undid the button just below Marcel's knee and slipped his hand beneath the fabric, stroking his thigh over the silk hose. 

"Joseph? What are you doing?" 

The valet's fingers found the top edge of the short hose his lord was wearing, halfway up his thigh. "Disrobing you, my lord." He said innocently. Then he rapidly slid the silk garment all the way off.

Marcel gasped and stared down at his servant. Joseph gave him no time to react and repeated his actions with the other leg. Planting lingering kisses all the way up Marcel's leg, Joseph finally unlaced and removed his breeches. Instead of taking complete control, as Joseph expected, Marcel observed him silently with half lidded eyes. He must really be drunk, the valet thought sourly.

Marcel gasped loudly and threw back his head as Joseph's mouth enveloped him. Joseph held down his hips and took the lord's manhood down his throat over and over. Marcel's fingers tangled in his hair and the lord squirmed ardently beneath his ministrations. He'd done this before, of course, but never so aggressively. 

"Ah! Joseph—I..."

He knew Marcel was about to come and stopped abruptly. He climbed on top and straddled his master, unbuttoning vest and shirt.

"What—" The lord was silenced by a savage kiss that left Marcel breathless. 

Joseph didn't want to give Marcel time to think. His hands trembled as he picked up the bottle of oil and liberally applied it the lord's long tool. Valmont's eyes dilated and his breath quickened. Joseph knew it would hurt a lot, he just didn't care. He raised his hips and impaled himself hard on Marcel's manhood, screaming out raggedly as he did so.

Marcel reached toward his shoulders, but Joseph was having none of that. He pinned the lord's wrists and waited for the pain to subside. 

"Let me up, Joseph." There was cold steel in Marcel's voice, but the young valet ignored it. He kissed the lord passionately and then rode him hard and fast. It didn't take very long. Excited by his own boldness, Joseph came quickly, followed by Marcel. They were covered in sweat as Joseph rolled onto his back. He closed his eyes, too exhausted to move.

Xxxxxx

Marcel woke slowly. The bright wash of sunlight through the window lay warm on the lavender quilt. It was tucked snugly around him, which struck the lord as odd. The previous night came back to him and he bolted upright. Marcel then realised he wasn't naked, the linen nightshirt smelled crisp and fresh. Blinking in surprise, he turned to find his customary tea and toast breakfast on the nightstand. Everything was completely normal. Dark eyes slid slowly along the floor. Every trace of their debauchery was gone. In fact the parquetry looked cleaner than it had any right to. 

"I see you're awake, my lord." His valet came into the room and approached the tea service. Every movement as he poured the hot liquid was casual and relaxed. Speechless, he took the small cup as it was handed to him. Joseph then wandered over to the wardrobe and began selecting items of clothing. 

Marcel's mouth thinned to a line. He put the cup down and surged to his feet. Joseph whirled around as Marcel closed the distance between them. The valet backed up, pressing against the teak wardrobe. Marcel placed his palm almost tenderly against the young man's face. 

"Joseph," he purred, "I am your lord, am I not?"

"Yes my lord." A small hesitation, "I live to serve."

"Do you?" Marcel leaned into him until the tips of their noses were almost touching. "Hmm. Do you know why my father chose you to accompany me to this God forsaken hole?"

"No, my lord."

Marcel idly picked up a stray lock of Joseph's hair. "For several reasons. First, you're obedient; you mind your own business and keep your mouth shut. Second, in the last year that you've been among my body servants, I hadn't shown the slightest interest in you." Their eyes met. "Unsurprising really, since you're not much to look at." Joseph blushed and he looked away. "Also, you hadn't shown any interest in anyone at all. He thought you quite chaste and believed he was forcing celibacy upon me." The look his valet gave him made Marcel smile wickedly. "Oh yes, my father keeps track of these things. As do I. Thirdly, you are the least experienced of all my valets in Paris and the youngest. He thought to humiliate me, you see." 

Heavy silence hung between them for several heartbeats. Then Marcel's eyes darkened, even though he smiled. "So tell me why you believe that your behaviour is excusable." 

Joseph hesitated, "Was my lord... unsatisfied?" Marcel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He studied Joseph intently. The lad's face showed only concern for his performance. A growing anxiety as well but that was expected. 

"You're concerned about my enjoyment?" He asked incredulously.

Confused, Joseph blinked at him. "I... my lord, pleasure is the goal, is it not?" His valet continued on before Marcel could react. "Please, forgive my forwardness, but how does my lord wish me to... I... that is..." The lad trailed off, blushing madly. "How might I serve you?" 

Marcel was charmed and felt his anger gradually slipping away. He pressed the younger man against the wardrobe and claimed his lips. They shared a long, passionate kiss tasting each other deeply. 

Both men heard the outer doors open. Marcel stepped away from Joseph and sat on his bed. When Anna's butler opened the inner doors, Marcel was sipping his tea whilst Joseph waited to dress him. Nothing was amiss in any way.

Xxxxxx

David cantered up the drive towards Montblanc Manor. He usually looked forward to his time tutoring Elizabeth. However, a frown creased his brow as the manor house loomed closer. He could only hope that Lord Valmont was out riding or some such. His hands tightened on the reins. Anna's brother was proving volatile and unpredictable. From what he remembered of Parisian courtiers, he might become dangerous as well. If he failed to get what he wanted, of course. David's jaw clenched as he closed the remaining distance to the front steps. 

One of Anna's many stable grooms was waiting for him and he dismounted smoothly. "Good afternoon... Andre, isn't it?"

The lad smiled and gave a slight bow. "Master Colton."

David sighed and made his way inside. He'd tried to persuade the boy to call him David, but no such luck. Anna's servants were too well trained to break easily from tradition. The thought made him smile ruefully as he waited in the front hall. He knew where the south-facing parlour was. Still, he waited for one of Anna's valets to escort him. The Lady was a traditionalist herself and it wouldn't do to offend her. 

Where did Marcel fit in her world? More importantly, why was he here instead of parading about at court? For the first time, David wondered why the courtier would visit a relative he so obviously disliked. Not only that, but she lived so far from the court the young lord would surely disdain everything in Perigueux as unacceptably provincial. 

Motion at the corner of his vision drew David from his thoughts. His eyes met those of a sallow faced young man carrying a covered tray. The music teacher remembered he was Marcel's personal servant, although he could not recall his name. The valet averted his gaze and walked rapidly up the curving staircase. His expression had been calm and controlled, but David felt certain the young man disliked him. 

"Monsieur Colton?" Anna's butler had arrived for him. "This way please."

Xxxxx

"David!" Anna called out as he entered the parlour. "It's always a pleasure to see you."

He sketched a small bow. "Madame."

Elizabeth rose and curtsied prettily. "Good afternoon, monsieur Colton."

"A pleasure to see you, Elizabeth." He took her hands and kissed both cheeks. "I'm sure you could simply call me David."

"Certainly not!" Anna's voice was shocked and shrill. "That's far too familiar for a young woman of quality. It simply isn't done." 

David looked over at her and released her daughter's hands. Lady Montblanc's temper had been more evident since her younger brother had arrived. Once again, David wondered why Marcel was there. "Forgive me, madame. Such a lapse will not occur again."

Anna demurred almost immediately. "Of course, David." She fanned herself slowly and sipped a cup of tea. 

David led Elizabeth to the great harp for her lessons. He began tuning the instrument and glanced over at Anna. "Will Lord Valmont be joining us this afternoon?"

Anna's face reddened and she snapped her fan shut. "I've little tolerance for my brother today."

"Oh. Of course, madame."

Her expression softened fractionally, although she did not elaborate. 

Xxxxx

Joseph brought Marcel his lunch. The lord was staring out the window with his back to the door. He set the tray down beside the chaise lounge and poured his master a glass of white wine. 

"That's a pale vintage. What am I having?" 

"Turkey sandwiches, my lord."

Marcel sighed deeply. "Gods, how dull. Tell me they're decently seasoned at least." 

A smile curled the corners of Joseph's mouth despite himself. "I'm sure they are, my lord."

Marcel snorted as he sat down. "Yes my lord, no my lord, I'm sure it's very good my lord." His tone was bitter and mocking. "For God's sake, Joseph, don't you ever want to tell me to go fuck myself?" Dark eyes pinned him, daring him to say yes. 

Joseph averted his gaze. "No, my lord."

"Liar." Marcel sipped the wine and continued speaking to his valet. With no one else to talk to it was becoming a habit. "Tell me, is their anything noteworthy going on anywhere? I'm bored to death."

Joseph hesitated, but he was sure Marcel knew what day it was. "The music teacher has arrived." 

Marcel looked up. "Oh? Thursday is it? Was our dear Mr. David Colton wearing grey or black today?"

Joseph felt an irritation that he tried not to show. "Grey, my lord."

"M-hmm, how dull. I daresay the man has no imagination." The valet said nothing and silence reigned for several minutes. "Mind you, he does favour those adorable little garter bows. If only they weren't always black. Was he wearing those today?"

"I..." Joseph faltered. "I was on my way here and failed to notice, my lord."

Marcel sighed. "Damn. No matter, he always dresses with absurd sobriety. Even the pale blue Montblanc livery would be a welcome change." Marcel's eyes lingered idly on his servant's clothes. Anna had insisted Joseph wear her colours while they were staying there. The truth was it made Joseph stand out less and the young valet was grateful for that. "This blue suits you, Joseph." The lord ran his fingers up the back of Joseph's trousers. The younger man sucked in a sharp breath.

"Th- thank you, my lord." He flushed, actually hoping Marcel would undress him. 

Lord Valmont turned back to his lunch. "When you return the tray, check and see if he's wearing those little bows."

Joseph forced a placid tone as he refilled Marcel's glass. "Yes, my lord."

Xxxxx

Joseph exited the kitchens and proceeded towards Lady Montblanc's favourite parlour. He knew well enough that he couldn't just walk in there without reason. He prepared a plausible excuse so he wouldn't have to sneak around. There was enough ill will toward him and his master without that.

He took a deep breath and opened the white double doors. Anna looked up; surprise and annoyance clear on her face. He bowed and waited for her acknowledgement. 

After a moment, she pursed her lips and gestured impatiently at him. "Yes, what is it?"

"My Lord Valmont wishes to know if his presence at dinner will be required this evening?"

Her eyes darkened further. Elizabeth and David looked over at them with interest. "I will send for him at the appropriate time." Her tone was hard and unforgiving. 

"Yes, madame." He bowed and ran his gaze swiftly over David. Little black silk bows adorned the hems of the Irish man's breeches, just below the knee. His eyes slid upward in case there was anything else of note about the man. Their eyes met and Joseph stared into those clear grey orbs. 

"You are dismissed." The lady's tone was crisp.

Startled, he bowed again and withdrew. He could feel her predatory gaze on his back until the shut the doors behind him. 

The click of his one-inch heels echoed softly on the marble flooring as he walked through the manor house. They were perfect metronomes for the lonely feeling inside him. 




The Courtier's Tale Ch. 03



He paused before an ornate mirror and studied himself. His long hair was tied back in a pale blue bow that matched his livery. His skin was pale and dry looking, rather than the sensual porcelain hue of David Colton's Irish colouring. Joseph's eyes were dark and his features were plain and uninteresting. He wasn't ugly, just very common. Mr. Colton's face, by contrast, was austere and beautifully sculpted. 

Joseph could feel his throat tighten. He walked away from the looking glass, determined not to care that he wasn't as beautiful as the damned music teacher. Still, Marcel's words came back to him. 'You're not much to look at.' Tears formed in his eyes. Joseph brushed them away angrily.

Xxxxx

Marcel lay on his back in the chaise lounge and stared at the ceiling. He'd rarely been so terribly bored. Anna had kept him confined to his suite for days now. Four days, in fact. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Despite his bluster, they both knew she could do as she liked and there was precious little he could do about it. Their father had grown increasingly impatient with him. The episode with Beauxfort's son had merely been the last straw in a long string of personal indiscretions. He'd no idea how his father, Ambrose Valmont, had learned of them. He thought he'd been so careful. 

The dressing down he'd received from the household patriarch had been severe. Marcel felt the colour rise in his cheeks thinking about it. Never in his life had he been called such vile things. Not to his face anyway. Ambrose had made it clear that similar peccadillo's would no longer be tolerated. 

He sat up and stared at the wine bottle nearby. Though there was little else for him to do in these rooms, he hesitated to pour another glass of the pale vintage. The temptation to drink himself ragged every other day was growing stronger. He pursed his lips and remembered the previous Sabbath. He'd been fabulously drunk by the time Anna had chosen to appear. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shook his head slowly. He'd said things to her that were best left unspoken. Still, he'd managed not to admit to anything. He'd received a recent and disturbing letter from their father. Ambrose Valmont had given his elder sister leave to punish him as she chose should he be found again with another man.

The thought led him to Joseph. His valet had over stepped himself. Marcel's hands curled into fists and his lips thinned. The problem was the sex had been fantastic. In fact, he could hardly remember a time it had ever been as good. Now that his young valet had developed a taste for it, he'd become passionate and eager. 

In the few days since then, Marcel had resumed the dominant role in their bed play. Joseph had been meek, submissive and faultless in his obedience. A perfectly normal arrangement, now hopelessly dull.

Marcel ran a slow hand through his hair and poured a glass of white.

Xxxxx

Joseph opened wide the doors to Marcel's suite. The ghost of a smile played across his lips for a brief moment. Two of Anna's servants followed him and deposited several boxes on a side table. His gaze fell across the young lord. Marcel was curled up on the chaise, asleep.

Joseph shook his head. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was a long way from setting. Ushering the other servants out the door, the young valet shut the great doors and closed the bolt.

"Where have you been?"

Joseph turned smoothly on his heel to face his master. "Apologies, my lord, I thought you were asleep."

"I was until you brought that gossiping gaggle in here."

Ignoring Marcel's bad humour, Joseph began unpacking the newly arrived parcels. He removed a white brocade suit with pale blue accents. The shoes were of the same material with small, modest bows over silver buckles. It was comely enough, though severely understated compared to rest of Marcel's wardrobe. 

"Where did that come from?"

"Forgive my presumption, Lord Valmont, I ordered it for you."

Marcel crossed the room and slid his hands around Joseph's narrow waist. The young valet could feel the warmth of the lord's body pressing against his back. Heat rose in his face as desire flooded through him. 

"Why?" Marcel's voice was irritated but curious.

"Lady Montblanc expects your repentance at some point, my lord." He paused a moment, suddenly unsure, "I thought you might convince her if you look the part." 

Valmont said nothing for several heartbeats. Then his fingers tightened their grip, one hand moving down to the valet's bottom. "It's still very festive despite the lack of jewels and tinsel. Anna would not approve entirely."

Joseph tilted his head back against Marcel's shoulder, desperate for a kiss. "It wouldn't do to be too much out of character." He said breathlessly.

"A bold plan, Joseph," He could feel Marcel's breath behind his ear, "Undress me." Their lips met and the young valet turned gracefully into the lord's embrace.



The Courtier's Tale Ch. 04



I'd like to offer a note to those of you who continue to enjoy this tale. I realise that it took a long time for me to post the last chapter because my last year was hectic and I had the worst writer's block I've ever had. My apologies to those of you who were waiting for it. I wanted it to be longer but I'm undecided on which of two directions to take the next part of the story.

Also, the respective ages of the main characters are somewhat important and I have yet to cover this ground. Marcel is 21, Joseph is 19, David and Francis are both 25, Elizabeth is 18 and Anna Montblanc is in her late thirties. Marcel is only a little older than his niece but is far more jaded. 

I hope that clears up any questions you might have had. Please feel free to tear my story to bits if you like. Critiques help make me a better author. 

Xxxxx

Marcel tapped his foot impatiently while the grooms saddled his horse. It felt like months since he'd gone for a ride and he badly needed the escape. 

"Are you alright, Uncle?" 

Marcel looked over at Elizabeth and shrugged his shoulders. "Apart from being cooped up in this provincial territory with your mother? Oh yes, I'm quite fine."

Elizabeth smiled at him indulgently. "You both nettle each other, you know." He arched an eyebrow at her and she giggled. "I'm old enough to know what's going on, Uncle."

Marcel snorted a bitter laugh. "I highly doubt that."

"You don't get along with mama. I know that much for certain, Unc—"

"Oh please," He held up a hand in supplication, "I can hardly bear to be called 'uncle' continuously. You're making me feel old."

She laughed with good humour. "You are mama's younger brother, are you not?"

"Very much younger, my dear. I'm a mere three years older than you, after all." He sighed and gazed at the clouds. "I sometimes think my father must have been quite desperate for an heir by the time I was born."

"Desperate enough to spoil you terribly, according to mama."

"Your horse, my lord." Marcel was thankful their conversation was being interrupted. He was reluctant to speak ill of his sister to Elizabeth, much less of his childhood. It wouldn't do at all. The young man held the reins while he mounted the chestnut mare. 

"Have my valet prepare a bath when I return."

"Of course, sir."

Marcel cantered away at a medium pace. A slow smile spread across his features. He intended to test the speed of his borrowed mare. As the house was lost from view, he leaned forward into the saddle, encouraging the mare to stretch out into a slow gallop. The steady pace of his niece's mare sounded close behind him as the wide meadows of Montblanc Manor spread out before him. He leaned further into the saddle and the chestnut raced across the green.

The feeling of speed and freedom was intoxicating. He nearly missed the high female cry behind him. 

"Uncle! Uncle, slow down!"

He let out a long breath as he eased the mare back down to a canter. Elizabeth rode fast to catch up to him. "Unc—!"

"My name is 'Marcel', if you please."

She placed one hand on her hip in mock vexation. "I'm supposed to be showing you the countryside, unc--- Marcel."

"Much better, now say my name slowly as if you're savouring a fine liqueur."

She laughed. "Mama would be scandalized by such a suggestion, monsieur." 

"Your mama isn't here." Her eyes twinkled at him, showing her dimples. "Very well then, show me the verdant canals and the vineyards. It's surely better than being indoors."

He allowed her to take the lead and spent a pleasant if somewhat dull afternoon riding through meadows and over low sprawling hills. On the way back to the manor he was surprised to catch sight of a large cottage seemingly tucked away on the outskirts of his sister's property.

"What's that, Elizabeth? It looks too large from here to be a woodsman's home."

She followed his gaze and smiled. "It's smaller than you imagine, Marcel." Small spots of colour rose in her cheeks. "That is where Mr. Colton lives."

Marcel's gaze turned predatory. "It's a fine day, my dear. I think I should like a closer look." Without waiting for a response he rode rapidly towards David's house.

It was a white washed affair with lead paned windows and a small barn nearby. There was a vegetable garden to one side of the house bordered by a low fence. This fence extended outward and engulfed a modest paddock. A fine fat cow munched hay lazily inside it. 

Though the tiny holding was far smaller than anything Marcel was accustomed to, it was grand compared to most commoners. 

"Does my sister rent this to him?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I don't know, Marcel, but I would think so."

As Marcel sat his horse nearby, a small woman walked into view and began hanging out linens to dry. The lord frowned in annoyance. "Who on earth is that?"

"That's his house maid. She lives in the village and comes up to tend his affairs during the day."

Though he should have been reassured Marcel still felt hot spikes of jealousy prickling through him. He knew well enough what use he made of his own servants and easily imagined everyone else was the same. David Colton presented himself as honourable, but then, so did all men. "He treats her well then?" 

Elizabeth's blank look spoke clearly of her innocence. "Why yes, I suppose so. Why do you ask, uncle?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Back to that now are we?" He deliberately turned his horse away from the Colton residence.

Her features softened into a fond expression. "You are my uncle, Marcel."

"I know, I know." He put up one hand in mock surrender. "Still, perhaps we should arrange something between the two of us."

"Oh?"

"Yes," he flashed a thoroughly wicked grin at her, "perhaps some kind of forfeit whenever you forget to call me by my name."

She laughed and they began the ride back towards the manor house.

Xxxxx

David strolled easily through the garden pathways outside Montblanc Manor. Anna's summer party would be starting in just a few hours. Through the trees he could see servants scurrying to place tables, linens and lanterns in the appropriate locations. It would be a gala affair. The first country party of the season. 

Of course it would be nothing like the over indulgent hedonism of Paris. A smile touched his lips briefly. How distressing to Marcel it must be to be missing the season at court! He nearly laughed aloud from the thought. Shaking his head, David walked onto the green and passed through the flocks of Anna's servants.

"David! Oh, do come over here, Monsieur Colton." Anna waved at him from a small table set in the shade. Elizabeth sat demurely beside her along with a handsome gentleman. Shoulder length golden curls framed an oval face that was a touch too pretty. Intelligent blue eyes regarded him as he approached.

"Madame Montblanc," he murmured respectfully and kissed her hand, "and Elizabeth of course." He gave his lovely student a warm smile. 

Anna smiled indulgently at him. "David, this is Francis Montreaux, a friend of our family. Francis, Monsieur Colton, my daughter's music teacher."

David shook the man's hand, wondering if Marcel had met him yet. Surely this lovely young man would capture the lord's wandering eye. He glanced around nervously. Where was the irreverent nobleman? 

"Are you alright, Monsieur Colton? You seem quite distracted." Francis's blue eyes settled on him as he spoke. 

David tried to relax as a servant poured wine for him. "I was merely wondering where Lord Valmont had hidden himself."

The blonde man's brow rose ever so slightly. "Oh?"

David shrugged as casually as possible. "One never knows where the young lord might spring out of. I don't like to be surprised."

Anna tsked and fanned herself. "I believe my brother is taking his bath."

"This early in the day?"

Elizabeth smiled. "We were out riding this morning, Monsieur Colton. He loves to ride, but hates smelling like horses." She giggled prettily at him. 

David's eyes returned to Francis. "Tell me, Monsieur Montreaux, have you met the lady's brother?"

All three of them stared at him for a moment. Francis smiled and casually sipped his wine. "Indeed I have, Marcel and I are childhood friends."

"For all the good it's done my brother." Anna sniffed. "Francis is of clean moral character. I thank God daily he hasn't been corrupted by Marcel's many indiscretions. A pity that you've not managed to set him on the straight path, Francis." Her dark eyes pinned the young man intently.

Francis seemed not to notice her intense scrutiny and smiled beautifully at her. "He's not likely to listen to me, Auntie."

The lady of the house was no longer listening. A deep scowl twisted her features and anger reddened her cheeks. "Andre! Attend me at once!" One of Anne's personal servants appeared by her side. She pointed a shaking finger at one of the male servants preparing for the party. "What is that creature doing out here?"

David realised the man was Marcel's valet and felt a moment of pity for him. Anna's distress had not gone unnoticed. A hush had fallen and all the other servants were staring at the lord's servant. 

Andre responded to his lady with cool detachment. "He is well trained, Madame, I had thought it best to place him where his skills are of use."

"Remove him at once! I won't have him where my guests can see him."

David watched as Joseph inclined his head respectfully and strode back to the kitchens. He thought it odd the young man was out here without his lord. David had scarcely ever seen Marcel without him. "Your pardon, Madame, but I must be excused."

"Of course, Monsieur Colton." The Lady waved him away indulgently. David was relieved she didn't ask where he was going. He'd have had to tell her a plausible lie and he hated doing that. 

David found the quiet valet standing under a tree some distance from the kitchens. No one else was nearby, for which David was thankful. "Monsieur? May I have a word with you, please?" The young man's head snapped upward. His eyes were red rimmed and David could see he'd been crying.

"Yes. Yes of course, monsieur." Joseph wiped his cheeks quickly and composed himself.

"Are you alright?"

Joseph eyed him warily. "What is your business with me, monsieur Colton?" he asked bluntly. 

David frowned, although he wasn't strictly aristocracy, he was well bred enough to be offended. Even so, he chose to ignore the rudeness. "I wished to inquire after you, monsieur. Lord Valmont is—eccentric." He said carefully after a slight pause. The young servant's face was suddenly blank. Those dark eyes were alert and unfriendly. "Does your lord, ah, mistreat you?"

"Of course not, monsieur."

"Of course not." He echoed. "I merely wondered... well, perhaps I can help you. If you wished to leave your service—"

"Leave?" The valet's eyes were wide with disbelief. "Why would I want to do that?"

David had the grace to blush. Among men of rank such things were not openly discussed. "Your pardon. I had heard foul rumours. I merely—"

Again the valet interrupted. "I know what you heard." He lifted his chin and stared straight into David's eyes. "My family has served the Valmont House for five generations. It is an honour to carry his shoes. I won't abandon him to these provincial commoners," he sneered, "No matter what they choose to say of me."

He started to walk past but David grabbed his arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

The music teacher was shocked when Joseph wrenched himself from his grasp. "Don't touch me!" The other man stepped suddenly close. "You may be born a little higher than I, monsieur, but you are not above me. You're just another servant here, remember that." 

Speechless, David stared after Joseph as he strode away.

Xxxxxx

Marcel rose from his bath with several of his sister's men to attend him. Their faces were carefully composed concealing the revulsion he knew they all felt. None of them moved to assist him as water dripped from his body onto polished stone. "Well? My lady sister ordered you to attend me, did she not?" They stole glances at one another before the youngest of them stepped forward. He wrapped a towel around Marcel, careful not to touch him directly. He was not amused. "This is ridiculous!" He grabbed the lad's wrist and pulled him close. "Are you afraid, boy? Afraid touching my skin will poison you or rot your manhood? Stupid peasants! Go! Get out of here if you don't know what you're doing. I'll have my gracious sister appoint someone else. Perhaps someone prettier?" He smiled nastily at them. 

The boy in his grasp had turned white as a sheet. He leapt back when Marcel released him. One of the others cleared his throat noisily. "That won't be necessary, milord. Truly we was just being careful. Madame said—" 

"I know what she said! You're as common as dirt, the lot of you! Now fetch my clothes and dress me." He snarled. 

All three of them hastened to do his bidding. Marcel caught the young one by his arm. "Not you." 

"Mi—milord, please..." the boy stammered as his eyes began to mist.

His lip curled in disdain. "Don't be absurd enough to believe I've any interest in you, dog. I need someone to dry me off."

"Yes, milord." He squeaked.

Between the three of them, they managed to task of drying and dressing him. Joseph had selected his attire earlier and left it easily to hand. Thank God they'd not been entrusted to that! 

Marcel's mouth thinned. A bare month ago he'd appeared before his sister dressed in the finery Joseph suggested. He'd been apologetic and appropriately contrite. Although Anna had restored his right to leave his damned rooms, she'd been firm regarding his valet. The man was still allowed to attend him outside his rooms and bring his morning repast. However, Lord Valmont's bath and personal needs had been given over to three men of her choosing. Men so baseborn they practically stank of horses and spoke the worst French he'd ever heard outside a dockside brothel. None of them had the training a true body servant required. He wrinkled his nose. He was certain they'd rarely seen a bar of soap either.

They stepped away from him, wary and unsure. "Look at me. What do you louts suppose is missing?"

They wavered and looked stupidly at one another. "The shoes, you fools! I cannot walk about in my hose." The boy retrieved them and eyed his feet as though they were snakes. Marcel rolled his eyes and sat on a stool, crossing one leg over the other. "That should simplify the problem." Sarcasm dripped from each word but was lost on them. Relief flooded the boy's face as he carefully slid the shoes over silken hose.

"Get out. All of you."

They bowed clumsily and fled his suite. They were inept but watchful, spies no doubt. It hurt his pride that Anna could humiliate him this way.

Marcel poured a glass of red and stared out the long windows of his room.

Xxxxx

Joseph walked quickly towards Marcel's suite. The ignorant peasants Anna had appointed in his place were no longer there. Joseph had seen them come through the servants quarters, sullen and anxious, some time ago. Although he was common born himself, his family were hardly from the midden heap. It irked him that such scum were allowed to breathe nearby his lord, much less touch him. 

He paused outside the doors and collected himself. Marcel was often upset and prickly after their oafish attentions. He knocked softly before walking into the suite. Lord Valmont was looking out a window, his glass near empty. Marcel did not turn to face him.

"Where have you been, Joseph?" 

The valet eyes went to the open bottle on the dresser. He'd brought the bottle while the lord had been riding, now it was less than half full. "I was running errands for the head of staff, my lord." He carefully corked the fine vintage. "It's nearly time for the party."

"I know."

Joseph hesitated. Marcel sounded so sad. "I was sent to fetch you, my Lord Valmont."

This time Marcel turned and appraised him with dark eyes. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Pour me another glass." The lord dangled the glass carelessly between his fingers causing the remainder of wine to slosh like blood in a well.

Joseph sighed and put the bottle aside. Instead of filling Marcel's cup, he stepped close and began rearranging the lace at his throat. The lord's dark eyes widened. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Those men your sister gave you are not valets."

"Of course they aren't." growled Marcel but made no move to stop him.

"They put your clothes on you," his fingers deftly retied the lace he'd undone, "but they have no idea how a gentleman looks. No eye for detail, my lord." He stepped back and looked Marcel over critically. "It's a wonder they didn't leave soot marks all over you."

Marcel snorted, "They were hardly disposed to handling me over much."

"Well I'm grateful for that at least."

"Are you really?" Marcel put down his glass and pulled the valet close. "Perhaps I should handle you over much." 

Joseph's heart began pounding in his chest. They hadn't been together in more than a week. Now was not the time, no matter that he wanted it. "My lord, your sister is expecting us."

Hands glided down his back to rest just his above his bottom. "Of course she is." The pressure of Marcel's fingers increased as he slid them lower. Joseph moaned and pressed his body against the other man. 

Despite the heat coursing through him, Joseph spoke once more. "Please, my lord, we mustn't delay."

"Please, my lord." Marcel echoed. "You beg so beautifully." he panted in the valet's ear. "I feel your need against my hip, Joseph. Tell me you want me."

Dark eyes fluttered closed. "Yes, oh yes."

"Tell me."

Joseph trembled, lost in his pleasure. "I want you. Yes, I want you."

Marcel released him suddenly and Joseph's eyes shot open. His lord walked to the door and put his hand on the latch. Marcel peered over his shoulder at him, a smug smile curling his lip. Anger rose in Joseph like a wave as Marcel began opening the door. The valet couldn't think he simply acted. The door was half-open when Joseph reached him. The younger man slammed it shut and pushed Marcel's back against it. He kissed the lord ferociously while he locked the door with one hand. 

Joseph held Marcel there with his body, indulging in the forbidden embrace for several minutes. He pulled away from the savage kiss as it slowly dawned on him. Marcel wasn't fighting back. Those slender ringed fingers were tangled in his hair. The ribbon had been removed and Joseph's dark mane was hanging loose over his shoulders. 

Marcel raised an eyebrow and smiled wickedly. "Such a temper. Perhaps later I shall punish you."

Joseph was confused and completely aroused. He pressed his hips solidly against Marcel, grinding their groins together. Marcel's eyes rolled with pleasure and he nipped Joseph's neck playfully. "God in heaven," he breathed into the valet's ear, "I can hardly wait to fuck you."

The truth occurred to him as he registered the way that Marcel tasted. "You're drunk, my lord." Deeply drunk and enjoying it.

"Perhaps. Kiss me more." Joseph remembered the last time he'd given in to his passion. When the lord sobered he'd been angry and cruel. Nonetheless he pressed his mouth over Marcel's, pushing his tongue deep into the man's mouth. Marcel moaned deeply. 

Breaking the kiss, Joseph began to unlace himself. He growled into the other man's ear. "You are a slut, my lord." Marcel gasped in shock. He moved the lord's hand to his jutting rod. "Touch me, Lord Valmont. Feel how I want you." 

Joseph could feel every ring on Marcel's fingers as they tightened and stroked him. He untied the lace cravat around Marcel's neck and ran his tongue over the hollow of that aristocratic throat. 

Sharp knocking on the door startled them both. "My Lord Valmont? Lady Montblanc is growing impatient." 




The Courtier's Tale Ch. 05



Thank you all for being patient. I'm so busy these days and wanted to be able to submit a longer chapter. I'm going to do my best to get this finished and post at least once a month. 

Feel free to rip it to shreds if you don't like it. That helps to make me a better story teller. I hope you'll enjoy the tale.

Xxxxxx

*

"Where have you been, Marcel?"

Lord Valmont gazed passively at his friend. Francis seemed quite put out. "I went for a walk..." he trailed off as his friend's eyes darkened.

Francis stepped close. "A walk with Monsieur Colton? What possessed you to try him in the middle of a party?"

Marcel stared at Francis. "Try him? Be serious, Francis."

His friend didn't smile. "Please don't lie to me, Marcel."

"I... I never..."

"Fine. Keep your secrets then. Only hear me well, my friend. You must not pursue the man."

The insolent smile came easily to Marcel's features. "Oh Francis, I hardly think..."

"I don't care what you think." His friend was deadly serious. "Don't you want to come home?"

Marcel drew Francis to one side, for once he was more sad than exuberant. "Of course I do. Father will forgive me eventually."

Francis averted his eyes. "I really don't think he will, unless you agree to certain things. It doesn't matter anymore what the Valmont House will permit." He said quietly. "The Beauxfort's have made certain public allegations and Ambrose Valmont has to respond."

Lord Valmont sighed heavily. "I cannot do what society asks of me, Francis. Father knows that, he has to!"

Francis rolled his eyes at him. "Honestly, when is this going to stop? You're a mature adult now or so we all hope. Ambrose is not a young man, my friend. One day soon the House will fall to you!"

Marcel arched an eyebrow at his friend. "Meaning what exactly?"

Francis's mouth tightened. "You're not a boy anymore." He poked Marcel in the chest. "This way you've found to irritate your father and scandalise your sister has gone on long enough. It's past time to lay aside your childish rebellion and behave properly!" Scowling, Francis strode away from him.

The hurt of it nearly shocked Marcel sober. Did Francis actually believe his desires were mere artifice? The young lord felt his eyes begin to mist. He shook his head and went in search of a much stronger drink.

Xxxxx

"So here you are."

Marcel raised sleepy eyes towards the sound. The edges of his world had grown softly blurry long ago. He blinked trying to bring the man walking towards him into proper focus. 

"Come and help me. He's spent the remainder of the evening in this tiny parlour I'm sure." Lord Montreaux's disappointed face gained abrupt clarity. His friend picked up the now empty cognac bottle. "Drinking himself stupid in the dark."

"Don't talk like I'm not here..." Marcel slurred at him.

A second pair of hands wrapped gently around his arm. Joseph's face was sad but compassionate. "You must stand up my Lord."

"I'll take his other arm." Francis sighed heavily. The two of them half dragged him to his feet. 

"I'm fine... fine..."

"My Lord, please... your room is this way."

"I know the bloody way to my room... damned prison..."

"Keep your voice down!" Francis sounded quite frustrated. "The party's over and there are house guests about."

Marcel wanted to shout just to spite them. However, Joseph kept one hand on his lower back and whispered soothing phrases into his ear. The sensation was pleasant and mildly arousing. 

Fortunately he'd chosen an upper room to drink in so they had no stairs to navigate. Once they gained his room, Francis let out a long breath. "Are you alright Marcel?" 

Lord Valmont leaned against the wall and regarded his friend. "I'll be fine... yes... fine..." It dawned on him that Joseph was still supporting him. The younger man's slender arms around his waist felt wonderful. Impulsively he drew Joseph closer, embracing him.

"God in heaven!" Francis exclaimed. "Let me help you, boy. I dare say you'll be in trouble if you try to put him in bed by yourself."

Joseph flushed only a little. "It's no trouble, my Lord Montreaux, please allow me to attend him." 

"I doubt that's wise. Look here boy, this man is likely to do God only knows what to you if I leave this room."

"As you say, my lord. I'm used to him. Please... I'll be fine."

After a lengthy pause, Francis began walking to the door. "Very well, I'll leave you to it. If there's a problem you may ring for the staff."

"Of course, my lord."

They listened to the clicking of his friend's shoes followed by the soft thud of the outer doors closing. Marcel lay his head on Joseph's shoulder and closed his eyes. 

"My Lord Valmont? I really ought to lock the door."

"No... not yet." Marcel felt better able to stand unsupported. He slipped his hands beneath the other man's vest, sliding them up his spine. Joseph arched his back slightly in a way Marcel had dreamed David would do. Just thinking of the Irish Harpist made Marcel harden. The arms around the young lord shifted their grip. Slender fingers traced the outline of his rod through his breeches. Marcel's hands slipped back down and caressed narrow hips. David is shaped much this way he mused to himself. As those fingers began to unlace him, Marcel kissed the man's jaw line and whispered into his ear. "You're so beautiful, David."

The other man stepped suddenly out of his arms. White pain seared his cheek as Joseph slapped him hard. He grabbed the edge of a nearby table to keep from falling. 

His valet was striding towards the door. "Joseph! Wait... you can't leave! I... I command you..."

The man paused with his hands on the handles of the outer doors. Dark eyes glared at him over a liveried shoulder. Then he was through them and gone. 

Marcel knew he could not follow him. The manor was full of guests and chasing after his servant would not go unnoticed. Lord Valmont laid his burning cheek against the coolness of the painted wall. "Don't go..." He murmured feeling unaccountably bereft.

Xxxxxx

"Ugh! Just look at you!" Marcel blinked open tired eyes to look owlishly at him. Marcel's waistcoat was bunched around his middle and he was wearing only one shoe. Otherwise the lord was still dressed and sprawled on top of his quilted covers. His hair was tangled hopelessly in his ribbon. "Your man servant did a terrible job of putting you to bed." Francis walked over to the window and pulled the drapes aside.

"Dammit! It's too cursed bright!" Marcel covered his face with his hands. "What time is it?"

"Far too early in the morning, my friend." He settled himself on the bed beside the spoiled courtier. "You're expected to attend breakfast. I'm trying to ensure you're there on time. I understand you've been habitually late to these small family functions."

Marcel sat up and stared incredulously at him. "Are you serious? My head hurts, Francis! I can't possibly face anyone before noon."

Francis was sympathetic but he hated to see Marcel suffer more than necessary. "Your sister will have a fit if you don't come down this morning." He said quietly, "Some of Anna's guests are whispering about your 'unseemly drunkenness'. Please Marcel, at least pretend to be well." Marcel groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll outright beg you, my friend. Do it for me?"

"Alright! Leave off already. Where the hell is my tea?"

"I'm sure it's coming soon." Francis noticed the shadow on Marcel's cheek and frowned. "What's that?"

"Hmm?" The blonde lord gripped Marcel's chin gently and turned the shadowed spot to the light. "What are you doing?"

"Is this a bruise, Marcel?"

The soft click of men's shoes on the parquet floor interrupted them. Marcel's valet placed a laden tray of tea and toast on the side table. Francis ignored him and examined the mark. "How did this happen?"

His friend's eyes were fastened on the servant pouring tea. "I slipped... perhaps I hit my head on that table."

"Perhaps? Don't you remember what happened?"

"Of course I do!" his friend exploded. The valet's dark expressionless eyes appraised the two lords before being lowered discreetly. The man handed Marcel his teacup without a single word.

"No matter. If you were too drunk to be careful I suppose you deserved it." 

Oddly, Marcel looked away, plucking at his ruined lace. "Would you give us a moment, Francis? I'd like a private word with my valet."

Francis laughed without humour. "So you can dawdle and grope the poor lad shamelessly? Not a chance, Marcel."

"Please excuse me, my lords, I need to see if Lord Valmont's bath is ready." Francis flicked his fingers in dismissal and the young man bowed and left the room.

Marcel was staring at him with a wounded expression on his face. "Don't look at me like that. I'm trying to help you."

"Oh yes? You force me awake, blind me with sunlight and refuse to let me speak with my servant. Why? So I can pretend I don't drink outrageously and have a nice cheerful breakfast with a sexless shrew. How does that help me, Francis?"

"Eat your toast." Francis said wearily. 

"I asked you a question."

"Yes, I heard you." Francis shifted uncomfortably. "Hurry up and eat that. Your valet will be back soon."

Marcel ate only a small amount before Joseph returned. Francis accompanied them to the bathing room. He watched with mild interest as Joseph attended his friend. The man undressed Marcel in a brisk and entirely impersonal manner. It was like watching someone strip a statue. 

"Are you going to stay in here with us?" Marcel asked as he stepped into the porcelain tub. 

Francis seated himself on a small bench by the window. "Of course."

"Oh of course! How daft of me to presume I might be allowed a moment of privacy."

"Don't be like that. You cannot be late this morning, Marcel."

"Cannot? Have you been hiding something from me, Francis?" Lord Montreaux looked out the window, feeling distressed. "Yes you have, haven't you?" Marcel made a disgusted noise. "I don't suppose you'll tell me why you're conspiring with my family to torture me?"

"Torture you!" France was nearly speechless. "Are you really so spoiled? We all care for you..." Marcel shot him a dark look as Joseph worked the soap through his lord's long hair. "I care about you."

For several moments Marcel did not respond. "I know you do, Francis. I also know that my family has a habit of punishing me for my 'moral lapses'. Most gentleman gamble, drink and whore without too much fuss. Why can't they leave me to it and pretend ignorance when asked?" Joseph poured water over Marcel in a gentle stream and then the lord stood up. "The question that truly bothers me is why they would involve you?"

Francis was beginning to feel conflicted. Nonetheless, he'd made a promise and intended to keep it. "I'm hoping this attitude about your family will change in time."

"Not a chance of that, my friend." Marcel peered suspiciously at him as Joseph towelled him off. "Why on earth would you hope that? I'd surely become hopelessly dull in a fortnight."

Francis crossed his arms over his chest. "I anticipate being wed to your niece at the end of the season."

"I beg your pardon?" 

"Your sister has given me permission to court Elizabeth and your father approves the match---"

"She's my niece! She's a child, Francis!" Marcel was shouting at him now. Despite that, Francis was determined to remain civilized. 

"She's a young woman and I adore her."

"Oh yes? She's the heiress of all of this, you mean." Marcel gestured at the walls around them. "A richer holding than your father's own, I'll warrant. You're what, the third son of Lord Giles Montreaux?"

"I won't deny the dowry is impressive." He answered slowly.

"You can't bloody deny it!" 

"Young or not, she'll be wed to someone within the next two years. You know that very well, Marcel." Silence stretched taut between them as Marcel was dressed in fresh clothes. "I love her."

At length Marcel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Alright... I'd rather it were you, I suppose."

"The scope of your praises dazzle me." He said dryly.

Marcel didn't answer him. His valet was arranging the lace at his throat and Marcel's gaze was fixed on the man. Although the servant did not meet his lord's eyes, Joseph's expression remained placid. 

"You're not even listening to me, Marcel."

His friend looked sideways at him. A heartbeat later he smirked. "Say something noteworthy and perhaps I will mark you." Marcel's colourful brocade doublet swooshed around him as he turned on his heel and stalked out. 

Xxxxx

Marcel had a beastly headache. The sound of his shoes striking the tiles was nearly intolerable. The bright morning sunlight made him wince whenever he passed a window and in Anna's house it happened far too often. The stairs were the worst. His head throbbed so badly that he felt as though he was going to fall over sideways on more than one occasion. 

When he reached the bottom of the monstrous curving stairway, Marcel gripped the railing tightly for several moments.

"My lord? Are you well?" Joseph's soft voice sounded gentle in his ears. Marcel stared at him as Francis tapped his foot impatiently.

"Marcel. We must arrive before the meal is served."

"Oh must we?" he asked sarcastically. "One wonders what my dear sister has in store for me then." He fell into step beside his old friend. "I'm sure you know, don't you Francis?"

"Please... we're almost there. Don't ask me to tell you."

Marcel's mouth tightened into a line. Betrayal was a bitter draught indeed. 

Anna was using the formal breakfast room. The long and regal table was thronged with the two dozen lords and ladies that composed her intimate circle. Marcel noted that both he and Francis had been left places nearby the other members of his family. He inclined his head to Anna and seated himself. Joseph stood nearby and poured his tea.

Elizabeth smiled happily. "Good morning to you, Uncle."

Marcel sipped amber liquid from his porcelain cup. "What did I tell you about calling me that?" He asked irritably. Watching Elizabeth wilt beneath his tone caused him a moment of regret. 

Anna scowled at him. "I wonder what you did tell her, Marcel." Some of the assembly stopped their chatter to turn curious eyes toward them. 

Marcel smiled without humour. "My dearest sister, I can assure you I meant no harm."

His sister looked at though she'd swallowed a cupful of vinegar. "Elizabeth is my daughter, brother dear, I would ask you to defer to me in these matters henceforth." He knew that Anna was controlling herself in front of company. The light scolding was much too civilized to have been the thing she'd wanted to say. 

He returned his attention to his niece who pouted prettily next to Francis. "Your pardon, my dear. Tell me, how did you enjoy your party?"

She brightened instantly. "Oh Uncle, it was ever so much fun! Francis danced with me and said I have extraordinary talent on the harp." 

"Oh, I can assure you that I was but one among many." Francis purred sweetly at her and kissed her fingertips. "Your niece has many admirers, I shall have to be vigilant."

His friend's smile repulsed Marcel and his mood darkened. He glanced at his sister who was ignoring Francis' overly familiar caresses. Marcel's chest tightened painfully and his heart ached. He loved Francis and he always had. Now his friend was flaunting his disgusting happiness right in front of him! "Is it quite proper to be touching my niece so intimately, Francis?" His friend froze and slowly turned blue eyes on him. "I'd hate to see the poor girl's reputation compromised, after all." Quiet descended on the room whilst Francis glared at him incredulously. 

"Don't be absurd, Marcel." Anna's controlled fury cut through the silence like a blade. "Lord Francis Montreaux is my daughter's intended husband. They've my leave to prolong their courtship over the following year until suitable nuptial arrangements can be made." The assembled guests whispered urgently among themselves. Elizabeth's delighted surprise confirmed Marcel's suspicion that no such decision had yet been reached. Several young gentlemen stiffly congratulated Francis on his good fortune. Lord Valmont wondered if his sister had wanted to prolong the moment for some months to come. She'd have been able to accrue many costly gifts toward Elizabeth's dowry before announcing the preferred candidate. Forcing Anna's hand by casting doubt on Lord Montreaux's suitability gave him a vengeful pleasure. 

Elizabeth chattered excitedly about her engagement throughout the remainder of the meal. Francis listened to her patiently and nodded at appropriate intervals. Marcel tried not to hear them as his headache worsened. The chatter around him was uncommonly loud and everything in sight seemed to be made of glass or crystal. Sunlight reflected savagely off the crockery, slicing into his brain. 

Finally breakfast was over and Anna rose to see her guests to the outer foyer. Elizabeth stood up as well, clearly expecting Francis to accompany her. Instead, he kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you later, my dear. Your mother and brother have much to discuss with me."

"Oh! Of course you do, Francis, how thoughtless of me. We'll go for a stroll later then?"

"Of course." As she left the room Lord Montreaux's eyes met his, glittering fiercely. "What is wrong with you?" Francis growled at him.

"Me? Why my sister and I have much to discuss with you, shouldn't I be put out that no one bothered to inform me of this momentous arrangement?"

"Are you being obtuse deliberately? You know I couldn't tell her what's really going on!"

"How comforting to know my niece isn't yet plotting my destruction! Tell me; what is 'really going on', Francis?" He was screaming at his friend although that only made his head hurt more savagely.

Francis regarded him silently and adopted a calmer tone. "Are you always so evil tempered after drinking yourself into a stupor?" he asked coldly.

"Perhaps you should have let me sleep!" Marcel snarled back.

"I was trying to do you a courtesy."

"Oh yes? May God preserve us from Lord Montreaux's courtesy!" 

Those familiar blue eyes narrowed and his friend would have spoken had Anna not returned. She regained her seat and glowered at him. "Do you know what you have cost me Marcel?"

His smile was cloying and entirely insincere. "A large pile of pretty presents? Don't be sad, dear sister, after all Elizabeth already has an impressive dowry. Besides that, it would seem the Montreaux's are more than happy to add your lands to theirs by selling their third born son to us."

"That is quite enough!" Her furious tone only made him want to push his luck further. 

"I should think it's not nearly enough. Truly I'm just dying to know what forcing me to breakfast with your provincial rabble was meant to accomplish." He stood suddenly and bared his teeth at them. "So what is it then, Anna? I would wager that Francis knows your mind and I do not." She looked sharply at his friend. "Oh, no need to fret, Francis has kept your filthy secrets." The pain in his head flared again before receding to a dull roar. "Out with it!"

"Sit. Down." There was something in his sister's tone that made him pause. "Although I would love to see our father throw you out on your disgusting over used arse, I promised to offer his terms."

Marcel sank back into his seat. "Terms?"

She curled her lip disdainfully. "How you must long to return to that city of perdition, my brother. I'm sure your whores must miss you terribly."

Marcel's gaze shifted to Francis who would not meet his eyes. "What kind of terms?" 

Anna arched a brow; her satisfied expression made his chest tighten. She rang a little silver bell and a servant entered bearing a tray. As the boy approached her, She lifted two folded letters from it and dismissed him. Her smile grew predatory. "Our father is disturbed by certain complaints the Beauxfort household has made against us."