THE ALTERED COURSE

BY:  ROSE CARR

CHAPTER FOUR

Javert lay awake listening to the sounds of the bustling camp. The delighted laughter of children at play, mingled with the sing song voices of women trading gossip as they went about their chores. The mixed smells of smoke and cooking food wafted through the chilly air.

His body still echoed the passion of the past night. Recalling the pleasures Richelleen had awoke in him sent a quiver through his loins, sending a new wave of desire for her coursing through his body. Touching himself he was mortified to find his member alive and ready, aching - no yearning for her. He moaned aloud. How could he behave in such a fashion with a woman who had saved his life and been so kind to him? Though she had encouraged his advances, he still could not reconcile his behavior. She was not a woman of the streets! She held a position of importance in her community and he should not have allowed his passions to overwhelm his senses as they did. An image of Richelleen whispering and moving beneath him flashed through his mind, and desire flooded his senses. Stop it! he ordered silently, you have to get control of yourself before she returns. Hearing the door open he jerked his hand away, sitting bolt upright in bed.

"Good Morning," she called in a merry voice. "Actually it is mid morning, Monsieur Javert, you have been sleeping like a baby." He managed to greet her, but in a voice that sounded strange to his ears. What if she sees, he thought, what if she knows what I am feeling now?

"Are you hungry?" she asked him. He nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak.

"All right," she said eyeing him curiously. Even after last night he holds back, she thought, he still does not believe in what he feels. "I will get you something to eat, but first I want to check your bandage." Holding the covers close around his waist, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed so she could get a closer look at his head wound.

He shut his eyes as she leaned over him and gently began removing the bandage. He squirmed inwardly as her soft warm hands touched his flesh. Keep control he thought, she is just tending to your wound. "Oh Monsieur, it looks wonderful! I think all that is needed is cleaning and a new application of salve." He opened his eyes and groaned softly; her full breasts were just inches from his face, the curves visible above the low cut of her blouse. "We will set outside while we eat breakfast and let fresh air and sunshine do the rest." The sound of his heart pounding in his ears drowned out the rest of what she said. Unable to control himself, he encircled her waist, drawing her closer until his face was buried between the soft warm mounds.

Richelleen's breath caught for a moment, then she twined her hands in his hair, involuntarily arching her back as she felt his lips move over the soft exposed curves. He laid his head against her, his arms tightly clenched around her waist, his face feverishly hot against her bosom. His breath was ragged as he spoke. "Oh Richelleen, forgive me..."

Taking his hands from her waist, she knelt before him. "Javert..." she began. "Last night was exquisite, we shared a wonderful experience. Do not think I took you to my bed out of compassion or pity. You are an incredibly sensitive and passionate ma yet you do not understand the gifts you have to offer."

He returned her gaze, his eyes brimming with tears. "How could you want anyone like me Richelleen. I have been cold and dead inside since the death of my mother. The law has been the only thing I've known, the only thing that has given my life meaning. What is it you see in me that's good, what is it you want of me?"

Smiling tenderly, blinking back tears of her own, she placed her hand on his heart. "There Javert, that is what I see that is good in you. To learn that you are worthy of a person's love, and respect, mine or anyone else's, is what I want for you." Leaning back she pulled the ribbon that laced her blouse closed. Sliding it off her arms, she knelt there before him. Last night in the dim light he had turned his head, not daring to look at her. Now with an almost reverent awe he touched her breasts. Gently, carefully he caressed the smooth fullness of one. Bending his head he lightly kissed the sensitive tip of th other. He felt her tremble as he took the swollen nipple in his mouth and softly suckled. Tiny beads of sweat broke out on her skin, making it glisten in the filtered morning light.

Richelleen gasped and clutched his arms. He shuddered, pulling away from her. "Richelleen.." His voice harsh and raspy as he fought for control. "Last night was more than I dreamed, you do not have to do this again."

Richelleen, still shaken by his touch, took his face in her hands and kissed him, determined to destroy his discipline once and for all. Little kisses on his eyes, his cheeks the corners of his lips. He felt a shiver go through him as her palms slid nsuously over his chest to his muscular shoulders, nipping and kissing, murmuring little words in her own language until he thought he was on fire. He did not notice she had pulled the quilts aside that covered him until he felt her mouth close around him.

His mind exploded in a burst of color. Grabbing her shoulders as if to push her away, he only succeeded in holding her tighter, closer. This had never been done to him before. He felt the pressure building, the pulling sensation as she used both her hands and lips. The world seemed to spin around him, he was drowning in a pool of liquid fire as she brought him to the brink again and again, until gasping and helpless his mind filled with a blinding brilliant light. He cried out as he felt it coming, surging and finally burst forth in a final overwhelming rush of energy , pleasure and release. He was too spent to move, the weight of his body against her.

Richelleen held him close until his breathing eased, feeling the sheer unexpected wonder of the joy of pleasing him flow through her. He pulled back, kissing her breast and nuzzling her neck. Little shudders of the bliss that had passed fluttered through his body as he wrapped his arms around her, gently pulling her up onto the bed with him. He did not speak, just held her close, feeling the beating of her heart against his.

***

After eating breakfast, Gaspar left Monique's to go see Roland. He was alarmed to find his brother sitting in the open doorway of his wagon. "Roland, " he said shaking his shoulder. "What are you doing? Did you sleep here all night?"

Stretching and scratching himself, Roland opened his bleary eyes and squinted up at Roland. "Is in morning already?" he asked.

"It is noon already! What were you doing last night? Did you expect trouble, is that why you slept by the open door?"

"Trouble?" Roland snorted. "Trouble is over there, in her wagon. I saw her last night Gaspar, running through the rain to get to him. She doesn't even try to hide how she feels about him."

"Her?" he said, "Richelleen? You don't know for a fact that she was running to be with him, and even if she was that is none of your business. Don't you remember the first rule of the camp? Privacy is the right of everyone in camp? You have no right to spy on her even if you have some misguided idea that she is even remotely interested in you. Look at yourself, you look like something the dog dug up."

"You don't understand Gaspar, she was to have been mine, before Armond and certainly now since he has died. He asked me to look after her!"

"No, it is you who does not understand Roland. She has never wanted you and she doesn't want you now. Looking after her is one thing, trying to own her is another. You used to care about what went on in the camp -- you cared about all of us until you became obsessed with possessing Richelleen. Ah, to the devil with you." With this Gaspar turned on his heels and strode away saying, "When you come to your sense, come find me."

Roland ran his hands over his face; his eyes felt grainy and the whisker stubble was thick on his chin. Looking in the mirror he was not pleased with what he saw. Gaspar was right he thought, he did look like something the dog dug up, and buried again. Digging a towel from the basket near his bed, he also picked up a block of soap from his basin and decided not just to wash, but go down to the creek and take a bath. Perhaps it would refresh his mind and spirit as well as his body. Or maybe he would just get lucky and catch his death of cold.

Walking down to the river he thought of the day Armond died. They had been set upon by a renegade band of Gypsies, the kind that gave them all a bad name. They were transporting supplies and goods back to the camp after selling their wares in town. Shortly before they would have reached their destination, they were ambushed.

He and Armond had fought them off as best they could and they were winning too, until the horses got spooked and bolted, taking the supply cart with them. Jumping, he cleared the careening cart. Armond stayed with it, trying to slow down the horses and right the cart. Too late he saw the curve ahead. Out of control, the cart plunged off the embankment, taking Armond with it. Hearing the hoof beats of approaching riders, the bandits fled. Roland ran down the hill to check on Armond. He was still alive, but gravely injured, his neck had been broken. He begged Roland to help him, to stop his suffering.

His strength waning, Armond asked him to tell Richelleen he loved her, made him promise to look after her and see she came to no harm. It was the hardest thing he had every done, but Roland did as he asked, promising Armond he would not tell Richelleen how he died. Only that he fought hard, defending his people. Sighing loudly to himself, he thought perhaps he had carried this rden too long, Maybe he should tell Richelleen the truth about Armond's death.

***

Javert lay beside Richelleen, more content and happy then he had ever been. He looked at her sleeping so peacefully beside him. He still marveled at the thought of this beautiful, intelligent woman caring for him so deeply. His mind was so relaxed and clear. Some thoughts were coming back to him. A man, an older man at the barricade came into his mind. This man had let him go, saved his life. Then he remembered standing by the river and seeing this same man climb onto the bank carrying a wounded student. He put them in his carriage and ordered the driver to go to the nearest station....but then...

No, it could not be, he had let the old man go, and the student too. Oh, he thought... My God, that is it, that is what I did! I let a prisoner go, and broke the law I swore to uphold. His mind went back to that tragic decision he made to take his own life. How could he have done that, try and destroy the life God had given him? In his heart, the heart that Richelleen knew he had, he knew he had made the right decision in saving - what was that name? Ah yes, it was Jean ValJean, how could he have ever forgotten him, a man he had dealt so much misery to? So, he thought, I tried to take the life God gave me by jumping in the river. Then God in his mercy sent Richelleen to save me. How can I ever hope to repay this kindness, this miracle? He felt Richelleen stirring, she was awake and smiling at him.

"Hello," he said, smiling and kissing her forehead.

"Hello to you too, Monsieur the Inspector," she whispered back. I feel so good she thought, so happy, she hoped this feeling would last forever.

"Richelleen," he said thoughtfully. "Perhaps I can help you and your people in freeing Antoine. My superior does not know what has happened to me and I am a man of considerable influence in the police community."

"You, would do this for us? But why?" she said, a look of growing dismay on her face. "Oh, Monsieur, surely you don't think I........" He cut her words off with a resounding 'no'.

"You are not a devious person Richelleen. I could never think you would do anything like that. I just want to offer my help, to repay some of the kindness shown to me by your people. I could go with you, talk to the policeman who arrested him, find out what the charges are and perhaps get them to release him or at least show him leniency in serving a prison term. When you talk to your father, may I go with you? We can tell him who I am, explain to him that I can help."

Richelleen didn't know what to think about that; what would her father do if he knew who Javert really was? It was a difficult decision for her to make, but she would have to make it soon. Every day they delayed would put Antoine's freedom more at risk.

"It would be nice if we could stay like this forever, but I have to get up now Javert," she said. "There are some things I have to get done." He sighed and sat up, sitting on the side of the bed, giving her room to get off. "There is some delicious soup in the cooking pot outside and some coffee. Please, eat something. I will join you when I return." Giving him a kiss, she slipped on her shawl, picked up a basket of laundry and headed out the door. Javert tarried a few moments longer than got up to clean himself up a bit and get dressed. Realizing he was famished, he decided to go and try some of her soup.

Richelleen hummed as she walked to the creek. Washing clothes was a chore she did not look forward to, but it had to be done. Reaching the creek's edge she sat her basket down and took out her wooden washboard and sorted her items for washing. The water was cold, but it felt good to her. The mornings' 'activities' had left her a little sweaty and the thought of a cold clean bath was enticing. Looking around to see if anyone else was near, she shed her clothes and stepped into the water. It felt brisk and invigorating as she walked into the water until it was almost waist deep and began bathing herself.

Roland had just finished dressing himself when he heard splashing coming from further down the creek. Curious he walked along the bank which was lined by thick hedges. He came upon the spot where Richelleen had laid her things. He saw her in the water, her skin glowing, shimmering, catching the light from the water that sparkled like diamonds around her. Standing, hidden in the foliage he stared, mesmerized by her, afraid to move lest she see him. Finishing her bath Richelleen began walking out of the water. Stepping up on the bank, she grabbed a towel and began drying her hair.

Roland stepped out of his hiding place and called her name. Hearing the male voice Richelleen yelped and wrapped the towel around herself as she bent to get her clothes. Turning in the direction the voice had come from, she saw it was Roland.

"Roland!" she cried. "What are you doing here? Have you been following me, looking at me like some naughty little boy who hides in the bushes?" Her dark eyes flashed and anger colored her cheeks bright red.

"No Richelleen, no!" he said, cheeks flushing with the embarrassment of getting caught. "I was bathing too, down at the other end of the bend in the river. I heard some splashing and come to see what it was."

"Well, you have seen what it was that was splashing, so please be on your way." Watching him warily she backed away from him tightly clutching the towel around her. Walking towards her he put out his hands. "Please.. I just want to talk to you! My God, look at yourself Richelleen, you are so beautiful, please just let me come near you."

Backing away from him she said, "Not like this Roland, not here, please go away!" In a few quick steps he had reached her, grabbing her arm he swung her around to face him. Roughly taking her in his arms he tried to kiss her. Her arms tightly pinned, she struggled against him and started screaming.

"Have you lost your senses Roland! Let me go!" He tried to cover her mouth with his, but let out a surprised howl of pain when Richelleen's teeth sank into his chin drawing blood. Grabbing at his chin, he lost his hold on her and she broke and ran, stumbling and falling. He was upon her before she could gain her feet again.

Clawing and flailing away, Richelleen let out another cry for help. Feeling she had been away too long, Javert started out along the trail to the river. He had walked a short way when he heard a woman's cries for help. "That is Richelleen's voice!" he cried. His heart racing, he broke into a run, guided by her cries for help. Richelleen would not cry out so if she were not in dire trouble, he thought. He hoped he would not be too late to help her.

to be continued. . .

© 1997 Rose Carr

Contact the author:Rosematuse@aol.com

Home