French Angel

IV. Chapter four

As Angélique felt the warm sensation run through her body, she started to wonder if this was indeed the right thing to do. The feelings stirring in her body and heart made her aware that there might be something more than she first anticipated. How could a man affect her so?

But most importantly of all... was she willing to let her dream of ordinary life go only for a fleeting moment of passion? For would an English nobleman be able to harbour anything but lust for a French woman? She knew of deep-seated hatred between France and England. And she also knew how important politic was to those likes of the Duke Stamford. Especially since he has fought many battles – at least one of them ought to be against her homeland.

And so, her muscles tensed for the first time in the presence of this man. Richard felt the change in her even before he felt it under his hands. He moved his head away and slowly put pressure on her hips, coaxing her to turn around.

When she did so, her ocean eyes met his, almost drowning him with the resolution in them. Richard felt something in him stir. This time it went deeper. Not only did his heart skip a beat but there was almost tangible rope bounding the two of them together.

He knew his angel must have felt it too. But he did not wish to frighten her nor to rush her. By now he realised she was not here to offer herself to him. No, how could he ever presume such thing? This angel before him was truly the exact personification of her name.

It left him bewildered as to why she was in his house, all alone at this hour. "What brings you here, my Lady?" Richard asked. His voice was hushed as if he was afraid to disturb the silence of the night.

Angélique took a shaky breath in, trying to clear her mind. "I came to propose an offer, my Lord." Angélique's voice was breathless and as faint as his. To out-lookers, it might seem like a lovers meeting. But they were no lovers, and never will be, not if Angélique could help it. She was not about to lose her only opportunity of leeway to an English Duke.

"An offer?" Richard's head tilted to the side. Now he was intrigued. He was sure it was nothing scandalous, but also nothing too proper seeing as she came secretly under a cloak of darkness. Richard wondered what he could give her, that she wouldn't get from any other nobleman.

Angélique nodded, in confirmation, her tongue darted out to lick her suddenly dry lips. She watched as Richard's eyes traced the action. She saw the fire in his eyes that threatened to turn her into a puddle.

She took a deep breath and voiced her thoughts – the appropriate ones, "yes. I've heard of your..." She rummaged for the right word, "skills." She said at last. But as soon as the word was out, Richard's head snapped back as if she had slapped him.

It made her regret blurring out such word, she hurriedly went on, "what I mean is; I've heard that you have been on the battlefield for many years and that you are an exceptional fighter. I wanted to beg of you to teach me." Angélique's voice rose above a whisper.

"Teach you?" Richard repeated, puzzled by her request.

"Qui, yes!" Angélique moved vehemently her head up and down repeatedly. "I want to learn to protect myself. I know the world is not a garden filled with tulips, but rather roses. They are as beautiful as they are harmful." Words floated from her scarlet lips as her eyes glazed over, two soft lines formed on the bridge of her small button nose.

"Who would even think of harming such angel?" Richard thought, but he must of have said it out loud, as Angélique blinked, her face transformed back into a beautiful worry-free expression. A shy smile bloomed on her cherry lips, and a soft rosy blush spread over her cheeks.

"Sometimes it is better to expect unexpected so that later on you will not be so surprised." Angélique shrugged and her head lowered, with it went her eyes. Richard felt empty and cold as he no longer could swim in her blue lagoons.