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.