Vol 2 Chapter 1 (2/2)
Wilts.h.i.+re's reaction was one of disagreement.
“How do you know that she was willing? Although you were not really willing, you also followed a man and came to France with him, eh?”
“To h.e.l.l with it!” Walker nearly choked on the bread in his mouth, wildly looking around at all four corners as if he were a thief. He only relaxed when he was certain that n.o.body else had taken any notice of that sentence Wilts.h.i.+re had uttered.
“This matter and that one are two quite different things. The Princess is a woman, and then… she is a princess!”
“Besides that she is a woman and you are not, she is a princess and you are not, other than that, frankly speaking you are both in similar circ.u.mstances now.” The expression on Wilts.h.i.+re's face was still d.a.m.nably calm.
Although he did actually feel that his own circ.u.mstances was indeed somewhat similar to Caroline's, but Walker would sooner be killed than to admit that he was currently eloping with another man.
Seeing that Walker had opened his mouth wide, appearing as though he intended to continue arguing with him, the Marquess looked skyward, gave a yawn, and said: “Alright! Let’s not discuss this anymore. Walker, please tell me something now, do you know how to use a sword?”
Not quite able to adapt to the speed at which Wilts.h.i.+re's thoughts darted about, Walker could only come up with a response after a long time pa.s.sed.
“Not really, I’ve only handled a wooden sword while playing with my brothers.” He answered honestly.
“In that case, it's decided that the afternoon will be spent on fencing lessons.” The Marquess seemed immensely pleased as he made the announcement.
Wilts.h.i.+re seemed to be exceptionally zealous about the matter of instructing Walker in fencing, running out in the afternoon to buy two longswords that looked to be of rather fine quality, and borrowed an empty spare room in the inn to serve as their fencing cla.s.sroom.
“Alright, now you try attacking me.” Wilts.h.i.+re was wearing a thin s.h.i.+rt made of silk, the way he looked as he grasped the sword while standing tall and proud really did project shades of grandeur reminiscent of the das.h.i.+ng swordsmen of legend.
“But aren’t you afraid that you would get hurt?” Walker looked that the sharpened longsword in his hand, a genuine article obtained at a pretty price, and curled his lip at the peac.o.c.k preening opposite him.
“Don’t flatter yourself?!” Wilts.h.i.+re began to laugh loudly, and Walker suddenly felt as though the greatest insult had been heaped upon him. Not wis.h.i.+ng to waste words on the Marquess any longer, he raised the sword in his hand and directly did as he had asked.
But since Wilts.h.i.+re had been so confident in his own fencing skills, naturally he was not an incompetent hand at it. Although he only brandished the sword in his hand a few times, his movements light as a feather, Walker's offensive was quickly entirely neutralized.
The Scotsman did not believe in being jinxed; he had enough strength to use the sword in his hand, which was of considerable weight, and he also had enough patience and persistence to wait for the Marquess, who looked to be significantly slimmer than him, to tire.
But in the end, he was still left disappointed…
Walker retreated a few steps, tossed the longsword to the ground and crouched his body down, with his breath laboured.
“This is ridiculous! You’re simply… simply…” He was both angry and tired, but still, he could not bring himself to say the words “you are simply toying with me” out loud, because it was not, after all, some glorious thing that he could be proud of.
Wilts.h.i.+re's expression remained poised and relaxed, he lifted a corner of his lips and unleashed a beguiling smile at Walker. “Now you should be willing to let me teach you from the basics, beginning with the proper stance to use when holding a sword!” He smilingly said.
Although he had to admit that the Prince Regent's choice in selecting Wilts.h.i.+re to rescue his daughter must have been made after serious consideration, but Walker found that arrogant att.i.tude of the Marquess to be insufferable, and his way of continuously taking the opportunity to make some provocative moves while rectifying Walker's stance was even more aggravating.
Take now, for example. It was only to correct the manner in which an attack should be launched, but the two of them were pressed so closely against each other and the way that Wilts.h.i.+re's hand was lightly pressing against his abdomen felt strange, causing goose b.u.mps to rise up all over his body uncontrollably.
“For goodness sake, if you are going to press then just press down more firmly, alright?” At the moment, their positions not only reminded Walker of an embrace, but also the sort of embrace that came from behind, making him feel very uncomfortable.
“Then how about this?” Suddenly, the hand that Wilts.h.i.+re had rested against Walker's stomach exerted its strength, and his body also pressed even closer to Walker's. Feeling the burning heat against his own b.u.t.tocks, Walker understood that at this moment, the thoughts on the Marquess's mind had absolutely nothing to do with the sword in his hand.
“Or how about this?” The Marquess's hand slowly slid down, while the warm moist air exhaled through his mouth made Walker's neck feel a burst of ticklishness…
“Don’t be like this…” His l.u.s.t, having been incited, struggled for release, and he had to remind himself that the view outside the window showed that it was still daylight. Also, their locale was the first floor, the windows to the empty spare room were wide open and anybody who happened to pa.s.s by could easily see what was happening inside --- and yet the words he had used to refuse Wilts.h.i.+re's advances had sounded so feeble and indistinct.
“All right then!” Nevertheless, Wilts.h.i.+re let go of him and his casual att.i.tude caused Walker to be in a state of shock for quite a while.
The Marquess picked up the sword, and said to Walker with a wink: “Dear, I think it would be better for us to keep practicing.”
In an instant, the hot body and breath that had just been enveloping him vanished, along with the dangerous mood in the room…
Obviously he should be joyful, but Walker found that he was unable to take any delight in it. With a stony face, he picked up his sword and continued to study. But there was a marked departure from the high-spirits that he originally had, it was obvious that he had become distracted.
“Are you feeling rather unhappy?” After dinner, the Marquess requested hot water for their baths. As they soaked in the tub, he scrubbed at his body with a contented expression on his face, the same time as he was questioning Walker.
Walker shook his head. He was confused by this version of himself, who no longer rejected Wilts.h.i.+re's s.e.xual demands. And this afternoon, when Wilts.h.i.+re had so readily given up on putting the moves on him, the disappointment and frustration he had felt in his heart --- as if he was losing something --- had even made him feel afraid.
“What exactly is the matter?” The Marquess's hand slid over Walker's neck; when the green eyes that were made hazy by the steam rising from the water gazed at his face steadily, there was a look in them that could make hearts quiver.
Walker still did not answer and the Marquess smiled at his silence. He leaned his body close and kissed the Scotsman’s lips… Walker did not refuse; he needed to gauge his reaction to Wilts.h.i.+re as a means of determining the feelings in his heart.
After their somewhat late bath had ended, Walker tried to seek out the answer from the s.e.x that followed, as had become their routine. However, Wilts.h.i.+re's pa.s.sionate kisses and caresses that made him blush endlessly, obviously would not leave him with any time for reflection. After their love-making, which had lasted for longer than usual, Walker very quickly fell asleep in the Marquess's embrace; even at the end he still could not clearly understand what his own feelings were.
It seemed that Wilts.h.i.+re very much liked the feeling of teaching Walker, even insisting on teaching him fencing on the second and third day, and since Walker was indeed interested in this skill, he did not refuse his tutelage.
Very quickly, Wilts.h.i.+re discovered that Walker was improving at lightning speed. Although he had not yet reached the level where he could contend against Wilts.h.i.+re himself, but even if Wilts.h.i.+re had wanted to defeat him as easily as he had at the beginning, it was no longer a possibility.
“Alright, I admit that these hands of yours, that are more accustomed to holding hoes, do indeed have some strength.” He said grudgingly; Walker was bearing down on the sword in Wilts.h.i.+re's hand, and his arm felt a little sore.
“Or is that your hands, which are more accustomed to holding forks and knives, are too weak?” Walker's laugh was very cheerful and open, as his eyes shone as brightly as the sun did in Spain.
“Is that so? Or have you already forgotten that you had once wept because you could not free yourself from this pair of hands, perhaps you need me to give you a reminder?” Wilts.h.i.+re threw a provocative glance at Walker.
“You are such a hoodlum…” Walker could not keep from gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth, and Wilts.h.i.+re took the opportunity to free his own sword. As if it had a life of its own, the sword jabbed forward, and slashed down the front of Walker's s.h.i.+rt perfectly.
Walker got a fright, immediately dropping his sword and holding his clothes together.
“To h.e.l.l with it! If you keep this up, I’ll soon be left with no s.h.i.+rts to wear!” Wilts.h.i.+re had already repeated this type of evil behaviour numerous times over the course of their lessons over the last few days.
“I can lend you…” Wilts.h.i.+re was beaming as he stepped forward and hugged him, sliding a hand in a most provocative manner into his damaged clothing. He accurately found a brown nipple, and showed no restraint as he gave it a pinch with his fingertips --- his bud, which had already been subjected to torment the night before, thus ached unbearably and Walker could not keep his muscles from giving a spasm.
“Since you have already mastered the basic elements of fencing, perhaps we should go out tonight and find a place to relax, to celebrate your graduation.” Moving close to Walker and taking in the purely masculine musk of his scent of his body, Wilts.h.i.+re tried to speak using a beguiling tone of voice.
“Where...” It was very unfortunate, but after Walker had tasted the sweetness of s.e.x, he had become very open to temptation. Feeling how close Wilts.h.i.+re was, Walker was so keyed up with desire that he was almost unable to make a sound.
“Paris! Of course it’s Paris. Dear, tonight we shall find a tavern, and then drink, dance, find two Frenchwomen to flirt with... following that, of course it would be time for the both of us to be wildly joyous again, keke!” Wilts.h.i.+re's smile was so sweet, as if he were a schoolboy who had just suggested a field trip.
End of Jus Primae Noctis Volume 2, Chapter 1
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[1]: A portrait miniature is a miniature portrait painting, usually executed in gouache, watercolour, or enamel. They were especially valuable in introducing people to each other over distances; a n.o.bleman proposing the marriage of his daughter might send a courier with her portrait to visit potential suitors.
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