by Aston, Alexa
Until he came in to his title and the fortune that accompanied it, it was foolish to waste time thinking about it.
They approached the gates of Hopeston, and Michael captured the excitement spreading throughout the traveling party. He knew Lord Geoffrey, now a score and ten, had not seen his sister since the year he left to foster at Sir Lovel’s as a boy of seven. Between their reunion and the joyous occasion of the upcoming wedding of Geoffrey’s niece, ’twas a happy time for all. Michael appreciated being part of the guard that accompanied the de Montforts to their destination.
The gatekeeper called out a friendly greeting and swung open the gates. They rode into the outer bailey and continued on through the inner one. Arriving at the keep, Michael watched a dignified woman make her way down the stone stairs, her skirts held aloft from her ankles. A younger girl followed closely on her heels. Michael assumed she was the bride-to-be.
“Mary!” Lord Geoffrey called, leaping off his horse and running to her. He captured his sister in his arms and twirled her about, their laughter warming Michael’s heart. As an only child, he’d had no sibling to share anything with. If he ever did marry, he would fill Sandbourne with a dozen babes who would not only be blood kin but close friends who could depend upon one another through thick and thin.
He dismounted and aided Lady Merryn by taking Hal from her arms and setting him on the ground. The child quickly took off, but Ancel pounced on his brother and scooped Hal up in his arms despite his howling protests. Michael then lifted Lady Merryn from the saddle. She thanked him before she rushed to meet her sister-in-law and niece. Michael helped Alys from the horse she had insisted on riding by herself today on the last leg of their journey.
“You did a fine job, my lady. I think you were born to the saddle.”
The corners of her mouth turned up in a pleased smile. “I’ve always loved to ride. Queen Philippa likes that about me.” Alys joined Ancel, who now had Hal by the hand. Alys grabbed the child’s free hand and the twins made their way to their parents with their baby brother in tow.
Michael, as head of the small guard that had accompanied the de Montforts to Hopeston, awaited his orders. After much hugging and cheek kissing, Lord Geoffrey broke away and came to him.
“See to all the horses, Michael, and then you and the men are to join the family in the great hall after you’re settled in the Hopeston barracks. The noon meal will be served in two hours’ time, but my sister, Mary, has thoughtfully provided ale and some bread and cheese to tide us over till then.”
“At once, my lord,” Michael promised.
Geoffrey strode away as Michael motioned for the knights to take the family’s horses by their reins so they could take the animals to the stable. As they gathered the riderless horses and began to head in the direction Lord Geoffrey had indicated, Michael heard Lady Mary apologizing for her daughter’s absence. Michael knew of two nieces at Hopeston, and he hoped the missing one wasn’t ill. ’Twould be a shame if she missed her sister’s wedding and the opportunity to know her extended family.
Remounting Tempest, he followed the nine knights ahead of him to the stables. A groom met them and showed where to house each animal in the vast structure. Michael saw that the men thoroughly rubbed down all the horses and fed them a good measure of oats before instructing the soldiers to drop their gear in the barracks and return to the keep.
As was his custom, he walked the stable area again, making sure everything was up to his own personal standards. Sir Lovel—and even Geoffrey and Raynor—had impressed upon Michael never to walk away from a task and assume that it had been accomplished as ordered. He must check each individual’s work and be satisfied before moving on.
Michael counted the horses in his head, looking in on each. Everything appeared to be in order. Every animal had been cared for properly. He could leave and join the other men.
As he started to make his way back to the front of the stables, a voice startled him. He looked around but saw no one. Curious, he retraced his steps and went beyond where the de Montfort horses had been located. Rounding a corner, he heard the voice again. This time he distinguished it as female.
What would a woman be doing in the stables?
Michael continued till he found the source. He looked into the stall and saw a young man winding cloth around a horse’s tail.
“Now Morningstar, you must be patient, my love. ’Tis best if you let me wrap this around your tail. It will keep from having all the hairs in your tail swish and get in the way when your sweet babe comes.”
The clothing might be a man’s, but the voice was that of a woman. He saw her profile now. The delicate, upturned nose. The flawless, milky skin. She was tall for a female, her breasts small, her willowy figure like a young sapling. A long, dark blond braid spilled down her back to her waist.
She must have sensed his presence because she turned toward him. Large, amethyst eyes dominated her face.
The most beautiful face he’d ever seen.
He sucked in a quick breath. His stomach lurched oddly as their eyes met.
“I am Michael. Do you need help?”
She pursed full, pink lips in thought. “I suppose you can stay in case I need an extra pair of hands. Have you ever helped foal a horse?”
“No.” He grinned. “But I’m a fast learner.”
“Good. I need a little more fresh straw. I swept out her stall this morning and placed a new bed of straw within, but my girl has been restless. Bring about three pitchforks full. I’ll show you where to place it.”
He did as told, retrieving the clean hay and spreading it where she requested.
“Are you serious about learning?” she asked.
“Of course. I may need to know about this someday.” He thought of the day when he would own a stable full of prime horseflesh as the Earl of Sandbourne. Understanding the birthing process would be good knowledge for him.
She stroked the horse. “Do you see these wax-like beads at the end of her teats?”
Michael squatted. “I do. They’re easily visible. What do they mean?”
“Morningstar began dripping this late last night. Some droplets of milk also have appeared. That tells me she will deliver soon.” She patted the horse fondly. “And look here. A day ago her vulva began to swell and relax. It stretches in preparation for her to allow the foal to pass through the birth canal.”
He looked carefully where she indicated. “I see.” He stood again.
The mare snorted and began pacing around the stall. He noticed the space was actually two stalls that had been joined together. The wall between them had been knocked down. He decided to ask about it.
“Aye, it was an idea I tried. Many dams like to move about during the process. I suggested we give them more room to do so.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the stall’s wall as she watched the horse move restlessly about.
“She’s a bit cranky now. It’s all a part of it. She also drinks and expels her waste more frequently, but that tells me that everything is going as planned. She may want to be left alone now at this stage.” The woman indicated for him to exit the stall. She followed and came to stand next to him, just outside. “We can give her a bit of privacy but still be on hand in case she needs us.”
Michael supposed this woman must be a groom’s daughter, if not the head groom, due to her knowledge.
“Have you been around horses all your life?”
A brilliant smile, bright as the noon sun, danced across her face. It drew him in like a siren’s call to a sailor. “I live for horses.”
He heard the love and devotion in her words and admired her for becoming informed in an area most women knew nothing about.
Of course, most women did not dress as she did. She wore all brown, her gypon and cotehardie barely covering her hips. Tight pants reached down to hug her long legs.
He wondered idly what she looked like under her man’s clothing.
They watched the horse pace nervously for some minut
es. The mare walked and then lay down. Moments later, she came to stand again. She repeated that process several times. The horse also kicked at her abdomen more than a few times and pawed the ground. Michael was fascinated by what he observed.
“Look. There. See how she breaks into a sweat along her neck and flanks?” the woman pointed out. “That’s another sign that tells us the chain of events is progressing as it should.”
Michael watched her studying the mare. A tightness banded his chest. His pulse beat rapidly. He’d never experienced such feelings when viewing any woman, much less one dressed as a man.
“I think we can go in again,” she whispered. “Keep your voice low and nonthreatening. Morningstar will go through three stages now. She may be fine on her own or we might have to help her along.”
“And you’ll know what to do?”
“Of course,” she said, looking at him as if he were an idiot.
“So what will be this first part?”
“Positioning her foal. She’s been nervously pacing. The standing and lying down are her way of helping to place the foal in a proper position so it will easily come through the birth canal.”
Without warning, the woman gripped his forearm. “Look!” she said, her soft voice growing more animated.
He watched as the mare expelled a rush of fluid from her body.
“That helps lubricate the birth canal. Now the strong contractions will begin.”
She continued gripping his arm without realizing it, standing close to him. Michael inhaled a faint scent of violets surrounding her. Her fingers almost seared through his armor as if scorching stronger than a burning fire. Though she only stood next to him, he began to feel aroused. He bit his tongue, trying to tamp down the arousal.
The woman released her grasp and fell to her knees as the mare positioned herself on her side. The animal got up and down several times as before, extending her long legs as she strained with each contraction.
He knelt, watching the labored breathing of the horse.
“There! The foal is coming.”
Michael saw the foal begin to emerge. First, the legs appeared, one slightly ahead of the other. Then the head came, tucked between the forelegs that now extended from the mare’s body. The head and neck that followed seemed enclosed in some bluish-white sac. The shoulders passed through next.
Then nothing happened.
“Why has she stopped?” he asked. “The babe isn’t fully delivered.”
“She and the foal need to rest. Watch a moment. If Morningstar can be patient, so can you,” she teased.
They waited a few minutes, then the woman sighed. “I was afraid this might happen. I’ll need to help her. Usually the sac breaks on its own, but sometimes a little push is required.”
She pulled a dagger from her booted foot and approached the mare and half-delivered babe, cooing softly to them both. Then she made a small slit in the sac. Liquid rushed out. She picked up a piece of straw and tickled around the foal’s nose.
“I’m clearing the passage so her foal can breathe,” she explained. “We don’t want the newborn to suffocate.” She stroked the mother reassuringly, telling her what a fine job she was doing.
Michael watched her gentle touch with both mother and foal. Strong emotion flooded him at the tenderness he witnessed before him.
After some minutes, the foal’s hips came through. Then the mare took another period of rest before he watched the last of the foal finally appear. Immediately, the mare began to rise. The new foal struggled, and Michael saw the umbilical cord break in the process. He marveled at the wonder of birth.
“We need to watch now for the placenta. ’Tis the last stage and most important to observe carefully. The contractions will continue in an effort to expel it from her body. Poor Morningstar,” she said, her voice low and pleasant. “I know, my sweetling. I know. You’re hurting now. But it’s almost over. Be patient.” She stroked the horse gently.
They sat in companionable silence for the hour it took before the placenta came out. The woman retrieved it and examined it closely.
“Good.” She nodded, a pleased look on her face. “Nothing broke off, so I won’t have to recover any of the missing pieces.”
Michael shuddered, not wanting to think what that might entail.
Instead, he focused on the new foal. While they’d waited for the mother to finish the final stage of the birth, the foal had learned to stand on its feet. It pained him when the newborn hadn’t been able to do so the first or second time. By the third attempt, Michael grinned as it managed to stand and stay upright, though it swayed slightly.
“Now I need this little one to nurse.” The woman maneuvered the newborn toward its mother and the waiting teat. After a little encouragement, the foal latched on to the mother’s teat and began sucking enthusiastically. The noise was the only one that filled the stable.
Finally, the woman stood. Her braid had loosened. Honeyed tendrils escaped and surrounded her face. She looked tired but utterly satisfied.
Much like a woman did after he’d thoroughly made love to her.
Michael felt a deep longing for this woman. She had ordered him about, but he rather liked her bossy ways. His physical attraction to her had grown with each hour they’d spent together.
What would Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn think if he returned with a bride from this trip?
Michael knew Lady Merryn would be pleased. She’d taken to him and always complimented him when he played with Hal. Mayhap the countess could arrange a cottage for the two of them and his new wife could work with the de Montfort horses.
He couldn’t believe such fanciful thoughts danced in his head. He’d risen this morning as a single man. Now the idea of wedding and bedding the woman before him was all he could think of. After the awful example of his parents’ marriage, it was a wonder he’d even dwell on such matters.
Yet, he gazed at the woman as she lovingly stroked first the foal, then the mother. She drew close and pressed a kiss upon the flank of Morningstar and then another as she moved to the horse’s head and kissed the creature between the ears.
Watching her with these two animals brought a wave of desire that exploded within him. ’Twas unfamiliar . . . yet exhilarating.
Michael realized this was what Geoffrey and Merryn had, something so deep that it transcended all else. He wanted it. Wanted it desperately. He would find out who this woman’s father was and ask for her hand.
He laughed heartily and the woman glanced at him, rewarding him with a sweet smile for the hours he’d spent helping her.
Michael supposed the first thing he should learn was her name. That might prove helpful when he asked for her hand in marriage.
Chapter Four
Elysande rose to her feet and used her forearm to brush away the stray hairs tickling her forehead. She looked down at her stained clothing and realized she looked a frightening mess. Though physically worn to the bone, she still could have floated back to the keep. The birth of a foal never ceased to amaze and invigorate her.
She looked to the man who had come to her aid so many hours ago. Michael. That was his name.
For the first time that day, Elysande really saw him. Before, he’d simply been an extra pair of hands, making the entire process go more smoothly.
Now?
Everything changed in an instant.
He was well over six feet, with broad shoulders and a massive chest. Thick hair black as night. Cheekbones chiseled as if from stone. Lips full and sensuous. Staring at them made her begin to tingle in a most unusual—but pleasant—way. She had never kissed a man, but the only thought racing through her mind was that she wanted to press her mouth to his.
And keep it there. Forever.
Their eyes met. His piercing blue ones held hers as if she had been taken prisoner by him. Elysande couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.
Wordlessly, she took a step toward him.
“You are in so much trouble!”
&n
bsp; The spell broke.
Elysande looked over Michael’s shoulder and saw Avelyn there, her hands fisted on her hips, her face grim.
She blew out a long breath. “I might have known I’d find you here. You’ve been gone for hours. You were absent from the noon meal. You missed meeting—”
“But Morningstar foaled. Look. ’Tis a boy.”
Avelyn’s face softened into a smile as she spied the mother and foal fast asleep on the hay. Her lips pursed a moment. “I suppose that’s an acceptable excuse. But you must come. Now. The evening meal will be served in less than an hour.” Then she looked to Michael and dropped a curtsey. “Good day to you, sir. I fear, in my scolding, I misplaced my good manners. I am Lady Avelyn Le Cler. Are you one of my uncle’s knights?”
Michael nodded. “I am, my lady. Lord Geoffrey has looked forward to meeting you. And to attending the wedding, of course.”
Avelyn smiled. “He’s a lovely man and Lady Merryn is so lively. We’re delighted they could attend the wedding with such short notice.”
“They are kind and generous people, my lady. I’m glad that you have the chance to spend time with them and your young cousins.”
“Well, I see you’ve helped in Morningstar’s foaling. Much thanks to you.” She looked to her sister. “Please. We must make you presentable. I fear even a foaling will not be an accepted excuse.”
Avelyn latched on to her hand and began to pull Elysande away. She called over her shoulder, “My thanks for your help. Mayhap, later tonight, you can come with me to check on the foal’s progress.”
“’Twould be my fondest wish,” Michael shouted to her as Avelyn dragged her through the stable.
“Mother is furious at you for not greeting our kin. And you’re filthy. We’ll barely have time to bathe you before we dine. Oh, I hope Lord Holger doesn’t notice you in such a state. You know how cross he becomes when he sees you dressed in this manner, Elysande.”
