A gay story: The Courtier's Tale Ch. 01 This is my first submission to this site. I hope you’ll all enjoy it.
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“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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
A noise in the outer courtyard pulled him from his reverie. A lone man had ridden up to the front gate and was dismounting. That wasn’t a horse, Marcel realised suddenly, it was a shetland pony. The shock of it drew the young lord to study Anna’s new guest as he made his way up the wide stairs. From this angle, the man appeared small, with dark hair and was dressed like a puritan. Oh perfect, thought Lord Valmont, now there’s two of them.
Marcel walked dejectedly back to divan and poured himself a stiff brandy. At least Anna hadn’t banned every comfort. He’d been sipping his drink for only a few minutes when the butler entered the room and bowed.
“My lord Valmont. Lady Montblanc has requested your presence in the south parlour.”
Marcel wrinkled his nose. No doubt she wished him to meet her recent guest. “Of course, lead on.” He carried his drink with him, unwilling to abandon the small glass. Who knew what lay in store for him? Perhaps Anna planned to pray for his soul? It wouldn’t surprise him in the least.
As the elderly butler opened the great white doors of Anna’s main sitting room, Marcel was pleased to see Elizabeth had been allowed to join them. She jumped up gaily her arms wide open for him. “Uncle! I’m so happy to see you!” She enveloped him in an enthusiastic hug and he became acutely aware that his eighteen-year-old niece possessed attributes she’d previously been lacking.
He held her at arms length then, taking in the generous bosom and tiny waist. “Look at you, Elizabeth. You’ve become a young lady while I wasn’t looking.”
“Indeed she has.” Anna’s commanding tone drew Marcel’s attention. “She’ll need an able chaperone for her coming out party next spring. I won’t have those hedonists, so common at court, making vile use of my girl. I can assure you of that.”
Valmont sighed deeply and finally noticed the other man in the room. He had his back to them and was tuning a large harp. At last the man straightened and turned around. He barely heard Anna introduce him. “This is David Colton. He teaches music to Elizabeth.” He was young, slender and startlingly beautiful. His hair was raven black and he had eyes so blue they were nearly grey. Set in a skin of porcelain with a long, straight nose and high cheekbones, Marcel was breathless with lust. Then he spoke, a clear Irish lilt colouring his words beautifully.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Lord Valmont.”
(to be continued)