Vol 2 Chapter 3 (1/2)

Jus Primae Noctis Volume 2, Chapter 3

Compared to the continually rainy weather in Britain, the sunny and cloudless weather in France would always be able to lift Walker's spirits --- but usually, his cheer would not last for long, the happiness he would feel at seeing the bright and beautiful suns.h.i.+ne would quickly fade to almost nothingness when Wilts.h.i.+re would deliberately stir up trouble.

“Where are my clothes? G.o.d, what are you playing at now!” For example, early in the morning on that day --- because of last night's over-indulgence, his waist ached and his legs hurt, but at the same time he also had to endure the Marquess's mischievous pranks. Under these circ.u.mstances, Walker really felt like he was approaching the end of his strength in both body and spirit.

“Dear, are you alright?” When contrasted with Walker's stony face, Wilts.h.i.+re seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood. He was holding a cup of steaming hot red tea, beaming as he looked at Walker from where he was reclining beside the fireplace. “Your clothes were strewn all over the floor last night, I have helped you put them into the armoire, I hope you won't mind.”

Remaining calm and unruffled at such a time of chaos, he took a sip of tea. Raising the cup in his hand, he asked in a relaxed tone of voice: “Want me to help pour a cup for you?”

“No need for that!” Ostensibly, he had just woken up, but Walker was feeling that he had already entered into a state of spitting anger. If it weren't for the fact that his body was totally bare, he would have jumped out of bed and smashed the cup that the Marquess was holding into bits. But when he took into consideration that there was still a favour he had to ask from him, he could only soften his tone and ask: “Then could you help bring me some clean clothes?”

“Ah, the weather today is really not bad at all! Walker, what do you think?” The Marquess's response was to set down the teacup he had been holding, and walk to the adjoining balcony, pretending to enjoy the view and also to conveniently stretch his body on the way.

“You are a…” Walker stopped mid-curse, and finally decided that if he wanted something done, he should do it himself. Swallowing the foul language that had not yet escaped his mouth, he wrapped himself up in the sheets and got out of bed, walking to the armoire and taking out a set of clean underclothes.

However, in the interval before he put his clothes on, he turned around and was directly met with the Marquess's green eyes, which were br.i.m.m.i.n.g with a smiling expression. Wilts.h.i.+re's eyes swept pa.s.s his chest and waist, and then quite rudely locked onto the place between his legs --- early that morning, he had racked his brains for a scheme, and had came up with the idea of handing all of Walker’s clothes, both his underclothes and the clothes he wore over them, to the maid to be cleaned, all in antic.i.p.ation of this moment.

“Wear that Scottish kilt, please? Today we are setting off for Bordeaux, it will be more convenient for you to wear a kilt.” The Marquess leaned on the railing; his beautiful smile, when coupled with his golden hair that s.h.i.+mmered under the suns.h.i.+ne, made him look as if he were angel. However, what emerged from the mouth of this angel were lines that were more fitting for a lewd demon.

Of course, Walker would know exactly what he was referring to when he had said the word “convenient”. He gave a disdainful snort; with an ashen face, he finished dressing himself at maximum speed. Slamming the door as he left the room, he threw the memory of the Marquess's self-congratulatory smile to the back of his mind.

He went downstairs and ordered a simple breakfast; just as he was midway through his meal, Wilts.h.i.+re walked into the room. His dazzling appearance had always caused him to be the cynosure of all attention in the room. Once the proprietor saw him enter, he immediately went up to welcome him, with a big smile across his face.

“My Lord, I have found you a rental carriage and driver that would suit your needs. As per your specifications, the interiors have been lined with top-quality velvet and the sound-proofing is excellent!” The proprietor's fawning att.i.tude was clear evidence that he must have received handsome tips from Wilts.h.i.+re.

“Well done!” Wilts.h.i.+re patted him on his shoulder, and casually fished out two silver coins from his pocket and gave them to him. Instantly, a smile bloomed on the proprietor's face that was as radiant as a flower.

Following this conversation, the Marquess walked over to Walker's table and seated himself. The proprietor followed him over, obviously trying to please him still further, he said: “Just one thing My Lord, since you are going on a long journey, so why did you only request for a small carriage, wouldn't a larger one be better? The fee would only be just a bit higher…”

Abruptly, an ear-splitting “dang lang [1]” sound rang out from beside him, making him jump in fright and stopping him from speaking further --- the sound had been caused by Walker flinging down his knife and fork onto the plate. Clearly in a rage, he stood up and stormed out, seemingly unable to endure having to listen to such a topic of conversation any longer. Greatly shocked, Wilts.h.i.+re also stood up, after throwing the proprietor an imperious look, he followed behind walker and walked out of the dining room.

“Walker, don’t go yet, listen to my explanation!” He was panting as he caught up to Walker, and caught hold of his arm.

When Walker turned back to face him, the expression on his face was not actually anger, instead, it was one of frustration. “There is no need to explain, my Lord Marquess! I already understand what you are going to say. I know that you're very bored, and I am a toy that you enjoy playing with very much, isn't that right?”

“No! Why would you think that?” Like a rattle-drum [2], Wilts.h.i.+re quickly shook his head. “I am not so idle that I'll waste my energy teasing someone I don't care about!” He reacted spontaneously, blurting out his words without thinking them over. It was only after the fact that he found that he had said something strange.

Immediately, the air became still with silence. The two people began to feel awkward and embarra.s.sed because of these words, which bordered on being a confession. They looked at each other at a loss, not knowing what they should say.

“Uh, I meant to say...” After a long while, Wilts.h.i.+re decided to take it upon himself to break the silence, but before he had a chance to speak, someone was calling his name from beyond the door.

“My Lord Marquess, the driver is here, do you wish to set off immediately?” It was the proprietor’s voice.

As if he were waking up from a dream, Walker freed himself from Wilts.h.i.+re's hands, his expression discomfited. Looking at the Marquess with embarra.s.sment, he said: “I’ll go and sort out the luggage.” Tossing these words out, he raced upstairs as quickly as if he had sprouted wings, looking like a rabbit that was being chased down by a wolf.

When the two of them had completed their packing and were about to set off, Wilts.h.i.+re discovered that besides the heavy luggage and trunk, there was also a sopping wet bag inside the carriage.

“What is that?” The Marquess shot a look at that bag. Pretending that he did not see the seat opposite Walker, he squeezed himself beside Walker and took a seat, managing to make his actions look quite natural.

Walker s.h.i.+fted his b.u.t.tocks closer to the side of the carriage, and said ill-temperedly: “Nothing much! They are just the clothes that a certain fool sent away for was.h.i.+ng right before our departure!”

“Hehe…” The Marquess gave a couple of giggles, and decided to change the subject.

“Have you heard of Bordeaux?” Bordeaux was a famous city in the south of France, and it was also where Baron Simon Portland [3], the man who had abducted the Princess, lived.

“I’ve only heard of the wines that come out of that region.” Walker admitted honestly.

“In addition to the delicious wines, the scenery of that place is also most excellent. Maybe when our business has been concluded, we can go to the Mediterranean Sea for a cruise and some sight-seeing.” Wilts.h.i.+re put his hand on top of Walkers, and smiled as he bowed his head, looking as if he were making a promise.

Not giving him any face [4], Walker s.n.a.t.c.hed his hand away.

“Wait until you have found the Princess to speak of this, my Lord Marquess. If the Prince Regent finds out that you have come to France only to persistently go on leisure trips, he may just tear strips off your skin when you return to Britain.”

“Perhaps at that time, it shall be my turn to elope, with you!” The Marquess did not seem at all chastened; instead, he took the opportunity to poke fun at Walker.

Walker gave a couple of hollow laughs. “That is such an unfunny joke! You have probably forgotten, but I am not some idle princess who does not have to worry about where her meal is coming from. I am just a poor farmer, and I have two minor brothers at home and a bedridden mother…”

“Well then, you can play the part of the prince instead! You can rescue me, the pitiful princess, from a dreary life...” Wilts.h.i.+re interrupted him, and in a half-serious and half-joking manner, he lay down on Walker's knees, taking the opportunity to wink at him with his pair of large eyes, which were framed by rows of thick eyelashes.

Walker was stunned for a moment. Looking down, he had found that there had been some sincerity in Wilts.h.i.+re's eyes. The Scotsman opened his mouth and was just about to say something when the Marquess's hand suddenly grabbed hold of his most sensitive part...

“h.e.l.l with it!” Hearing the sound of Wilts.h.i.+re bursting into loud laughter, Walker could not help but to curse himself --- that he actually would think that this person, who had only been bullying him right from the start, would ever be serious, even for a moment.

He caught hold of that agile hand forcefully. Walker seemed both furious and frustrated as he said: “Why do you always have to be like this? Why are you not willing to seriously listen to me, even just one time?”

“Alright, alright! Then… I’ll just touch you for a short while this time, alright? My dear?” Wilts.h.i.+re stopped laughing, pulling out a pitiful expression, he relaxed the hand that had grabbed Walker's genitals.

“You clearly know that that’s not what I meant…”

Not letting the Scotsman speak further, the Marquess's hands had already undone the b.u.t.tons of his s.h.i.+rt. After Walker's chest had been completely laid bare, Wilts.h.i.+re embraced his waist with his arms, and deeply imprinted his lips upon Walker's left pectoral. Feeling the strong beats of Walker's heart under his lips, Wilts.h.i.+re's hand began to slide around slowly, wandering everywhere around the body that had been kissed by suns.h.i.+ne, branding it with traces of his own pa.s.sage.

Hearing that the Scotsman's breathing was beginning to become chaotic, the Marquess could not help but to press close against his chest and chuckle...

The journey from Paris to Bordeaux was quite a long one, besides the time they stopped for meals and when they retired to an inn for the night, the rest of Wilts.h.i.+re and Walker's time was spent within the confines of the small carriage.