by Aston, Alexa
“In what?” he asked, his deep voice as smooth as velvet.
“In wanting to retreat to a nunnery.”
His eyes sparked with interest. “Indeed?”
“Aye. I don’t want to live a quiet life with the pious sisters. I don’t think I’m one made for only prayers and solitude.”
She watched the slow smile begin to light his face.
“And what might you wish for your life?” he asked lightly, still holding her chin in his hand.
Never taking her eyes from his, she admitted, “I wish for a life with you, Michael. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend my life with. I want to laugh with you. Share my day with you. Have babes with you,” she boldly declared, surprising herself with her honest admission.
His smile now filled his face, touching his eyes in merriment. “Lord Geoffrey has assured me he’s written on my behalf to the king. That he believes it will be a favorable outcome. I was merely waiting for you to come to the same conclusion.”
Both Michael’s hands cradled her face tenderly. Elysande grew warm at his touch.
“Since I met you, I’ve thought of no other woman. Before I even knew your name, I’d decided you would be the one for me.” His callused thumbs lovingly brushed her cheeks. “I couldn’t wait to find out your name so that I could go at once to your father and ask for your hand in marriage. And when I found out you weren’t the daughter of a lowly groom but Hopeston’s bride-to-be? It nearly undid me.”
He slowly brushed his lips against hers. Elysande’s heart skipped a beat.
Michael broke the kiss. “Hope grew when I found out your betrothed had died on his journey to Hopeston,” he continued. “It died yet again when your stepfather refused to consider my suit. But now?” He gazed at her lovingly.
“I’ve prayed to the Almighty on High that you would come to your senses. That you wouldn’t choose to lock yourself away from the world for something that wasn’t your fault. Now I find those prayers have been answered most favorably.”
He brought his mouth to hers again. His hands pushed into her hair as his tongue gently coaxed her lips to part. It ran along her lower lip and then slipped inside. It touched the tip of her own, sparking a flame of desire within her. Elysande moaned and brought her hands to his shoulders as he deepened the kiss.
Her heart pounded furiously as their tongues now dueled, mating with one another. Her breathing grew shallow and giddy. Michael’s hands ran through her hair and dropped to her back. He pulled her close. Her breasts grazed his chest and began to feel heavy. They ached with need. He placed his palm over one and rubbed the nipple back and forth, causing it to come to life. Her lower region caught on fire. The unfamiliar feeling filled her with a sweet longing.
Elysande locked her hands behind his neck and nestled as close to Michael as she could. Her tongue now warred with his as an equal. She heard his groan of pleasure. It thrilled her that she had the power to make him feel her need for him. Her body began thrumming, pulsating, coming alive as never before. Both his hands now palmed her breasts, squeezing them, lifting them, rubbing them. They felt on fire. She felt on fire.
Michael broke their kiss and dropped his hands to her waist. He lifted Elysande to her feet as he stood and backed her against a tree. Once again, his mouth locked on hers, bringing her to a height she’d never found. Then his lips trailed down her throat and lingered at the curve of her breast, nipping and licking at it.
She needed more. Much more.
Elysande pushed the clothing aside, pulling it from her shoulders, pawing at it till it dropped to her waist. Only her smock remained in the way. She saw the heat in Michael’s eyes as his head dropped. His mouth fastened on to her breast, warm and wet as his tongue stroked it through the thin material. Then his teeth lightly grazed her nipple, causing a surge to ripple through her.
She cried out from the pleasure. Her fingers buried themselves in his dark, thick hair, bringing him closer to her. He continued to lick and nibble at first one breast, then the other, till the blood sang in her veins. His hand traced a line up her leg, under her skirts, and then came to the apex where the pulsing beat out of control.
Elysande pushed hard against the tree as his mouth continued to tease her breast and his fingers did the same within her womanly parts. His mouth moved up again and closed over hers. Soon his tongue mimicked the actions of his fingers, moving in and out. He continued stroking her in both places till she thought she might go mad.
Then the pulsing turned into a warmth that burst from her as the sun rising on the horizon. She began to shudder violently against his fingers as an intense pleasure enveloped her. Elysande cried out, the sound falling into his mouth as he kissed her. She clung to him, sobbing, riding out the waves as they stormed through her.
The feelings slowly subsided. She panted heavily as his lips parted from hers. Their foreheads fell against one another. Michael leaned into her heavily. She, in turn, used his weight and the tree behind her to support herself. Her legs wobbled beneath her, threatening to fold at any moment.
“Did I bring you pleasure?” he asked, his voice rough and low.
“Aye.” The one word took great effort on her part. No more would come.
He cradled her face and kissed her tenderly. “I would do that and much more for you, my lady. If you will but have me as yours.”
“I’ve always been yours,” she replied. “From the moment of my birth. I knew not who you were and when we were fated to meet, but now that we have?” Elysande kissed him. “It will always be you. Never another. You are my light and my life, Michael Devereux.”
“And I plan for us never to be apart, Elysande Le Cler. I am committed to you, heart and soul. In time, we’ll make it official in the eyes of God and man, but I want you to know that I am yours till our dying day—and beyond.”
Michael kissed her again, long and slow, till her toes began to curl. Then he released her.
“I think it would be smart on our part to pick a few blackberries, my love, or Alys may wonder what we’ve been up to.”
Michael laughed as he took her hands. She quickly repaired her clothes. They returned to the patch of blackberries and began quickly placing them in the basket.
Elysande’s heart beat strong. And with each beat, it said, Michael. Michael. Michael.
Chapter Thirteen
Elysande watched as Ancel hugged Alys. Though each twin favored a different parent and looked nothing alike, in that moment, she saw a resemblance in their attitude. The two were cut from the same cloth and their time in the womb together had bound them in a way that others would never understand.
“The next time I see you will be Christmas time,” Alys told her brother.
“Take care at court,” Ancel told her. “Learn from the queen, but remember that you’ll always be a de Montfort first.”
“And the firstborn of we two,” she teased. Alys then embraced her twin once more. She turned away and came to stand next to Elysande.
“I can tell that you’ll miss Ancel a great deal.”
The girl nodded. “He’s the best of brothers. Oh, I love Hal and always will. But there will always be something special between Ancel and me. Sometimes, I wonder if even my future husband will know me as well as my twin does.”
Elysande put an arm about Alys’ shoulder. “It will be different with a husband, but he’ll come to know parts of you that even you don’t know exist. You’ll discover things about each other together.”
Alys looked at Elysande with new eyes. “That’s quite sage advice, Cousin Elysande. Mayhap you have discovered things about yourself with your future husband?” She didn’t bother trying to hide her smile.
Elysande squeezed the girl affectionately. “Just because you threw Michael and me together yesterday, you already have us paired off.”
“What if I do?” Alys challenged. “You’ve seemed very happy since we returned to the keep yesterday. Although the time we spent grinding herbs has probably fled
your mind now. And I’m sure you couldn’t possible remember all the tidbits I told you about what Mother and I will do with what we collected yesterday.”
Elysande felt her face grow warm. It had been hard to listen and remember everything Alys tried to teach her when all Elysande could think about was Michael’s mouth on hers. His hands caressing her body.
And when they could share a repeat performance.
Geoffrey motioned them over to where he stood with Merryn, Ancel, and Elia, who juggled a squirming Hal in her arms.
“Come. Your father wants us,” she told Alys.
Elysande watched as Ancel shook his father’s hand. Then her young cousin looked to his mother. Merryn had tears in her eyes.
“Mother, I’m only one estate away from you,” Ancel chided gently.
“’Tis not that,” Merryn said. She looked around at the tight circle that had formed. “Before Ancel leaves, I need to share some news with you all.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to have another child a few months. After the new year begins.”
Both Ancel and Alys squealed in delight and hugged their mother tightly. Elysande saw the fond look her uncle gave his wife. Without thinking, she glanced over at Michael, who stood nearby. She could tell by the grin on his face that he had overheard Merryn’s words.
“I wanted you to know before you left, Ancel. Alys, too. And I wanted to tell you at the same time.”
“It’s wonderful news, Mother,” Alys said, her eyes narrowing. “I only hope you’ll have a girl this time.”
“Well, I hope for another boy,” Ancel declared. “One even wilder than Hal.” He ruffled his brother’s hair fondly.
Geoffrey slipped an arm about Merryn’s waist. “Our hope is for a healthy child.” He glanced at his youngest. “And mayhap for one a bit more sedate than this last one.”
“That’s why you need another girl, Father,” Alys said primly.
Elysande joined in as everyone laughed at Alys’ simple logic. Then the final goodbyes were said. Ancel and Geoffrey mounted the horses that had been brought to them.
“I’ll be home in time for the noon meal, my love,” called Geoffrey.
“Goodbye!” Ancel hollered. “Nice to meet you, Cousin Elysande. I hope you come back with Aunt Mary and Cousin Avelyn to celebrate the Christmas season with us.”
“Thank you, Ancel,” she replied. “That would be my wish as well.”
She watched the riders leave the inner bailey and wondered what the next few months would bring.
*
Elysande had just broken her fast when Kinwick’s head groom came to her.
“It’s time, my lady. Hera exhibits all the signs. Her waxing started last night, with beads on the end of each teat. And now the secretion has gone from clear and watery to sticky and thick.”
Elysande stood quickly from her seat on the dais. “Is she still in the pasture?”
“Yes, my lady, just as you instructed. I moved the other horses away from her. They’ve all been returned to their stalls. Hera will have the privacy she needs to deliver her foal.”
“Let me change into something more practical before I go to the pasture.”
“Is there anything special you need?” asked Merryn.
“Nay. I’ve done this many times with dams far less docile than Hera.”
Geoffrey laughed. “Hera has been a handful for the past week around everyone but Elysande,” he informed his wife.
“We’ve gotten to know one another. I understand her better than I do most people,” Elysande said. “I need to put on my pants and a gypon. It’s much more comfortable and easier than having to deal with keeping my skirts out of the way.”
Michael joined them. “I hear that Hera is ready to foal. I assume we’ll be in the pasture for most of the day?”
She nodded. “You might want to ask Cook for some bread and cheese and a flask of wine. I doubt we’ll make either the noon or evening meal.”
“I’ll see to it,” he told her.
Elysande hurried to her bedchamber and slipped from her clothes into the brown gypon, cotehardie, and pants that she had brought along in case she needed them. She returned downstairs and found Michael waiting for her by the foot of the stairs, a sack in his hand. She, in turn, had brought a bag with a few things of her own that she might need to use for the foal’s delivery.
“Sustenance for our long day,” he said, holding up the sack. “Cook was only too happy to provide it for us.”
“Then we should make haste to the pasture.”
The August day was warm and partly cloudy. Elysande saw Hera standing in a secluded spot under the shade of a large oak tree. As they approached, the horse began swishing her tail angrily.
Elysande climbed over the fence. Michael eased the sack to the ground and followed behind her.
She approached the mare and soothingly said, “I hear you’re fussy today, my sweet girl. Are you out of sorts?”
As she spoke, she removed the linen cloth she had brought and moved to capture the horse’s tail. Swiftly, she wrapped it before Hera knew what she did.
Michael quietly asked, “What does that do? I can’t remember if you told me during our first delivery together.” He gave her a smile.
“It will keep the tail from having dirt cling to it when she gets up and down. We need to keep the foal as clean as possible in order for it to remain healthy.”
Elysande stepped away and backed toward the fence. She gestured for Michael to join her and they sat on top of it as Hera continued her pacing in the pasture. Elysande’s eyes swept over the area. She had instructed that any rocks or brush be moved and saw that had occurred. As they waited, Hera paused to eat a few oats and drink some water.
“All seems to be going well so far,” Michael said. “I see droplets of milk falling as she moves about. So we sit and observe quietly for now?”
She nodded. “Some dams like a fuss to be made over them, but I can tell Hera doesn’t want us to hover. We’re here for when she needs us.”
He reached over and took her hand in his. A pleasant tingling began. It caused her breath to quicken, but Elysande remained focused on the restless mare. They sat in the sunshine in silence.
Hera moved closer to them. Elysande saw that the horse had broken out into a sweat which dotted her neck and flanks. She slipped off the top of the fence, pulling Michael along with her.
“It’s very warm today. If she’ll allow us, we need to bathe her some.”
Elysande took out more cloths and went to the water bucket. Plunging them in, she twisted the excess water from each and handed one to Michael. They slowly ran the cloths over Hera’s flanks and along her neck. The mare stood patiently and seemed to enjoy their ministrations on her behalf.
Then the uterine contractions became more severe. Hera became jittery. She broke away and nervously paced along the fence line, pawing at the ground at intervals. Then she lay down for a minute and rose, repeating the process several times.
“I can see she’s distressed,” Michael noted. “Can’t we do more for her?”
“Nay. Let her work things out in her own way. Hera is helping position the foal with her movements.”
Once again, they returned to sit on the fence and keep their distance. Michael took her hand in his again, entwining his fingers through hers. As they sat in the warm sunshine, Elysande experienced perfect contentment. She didn’t know if a day—or any given moment—could be as sweet and wonderful as sitting beside the man she loved. She relished his very nearness as they patiently awaiting the birth of the foal.
Hera drew up suddenly, frozen for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes. Then the sac ruptured. Fluid poured out from the horse. Elysande saw the horse’s abdomen began contracting more violently.
When Hera didn’t lie down as expected, Elysande leapt off the fence and motioned Michael to follow her.
As they rushed over, she told him, “It’s the rare horse that wants to stand to give birth. I think Hera may be o
ne of them.”
“What do I need to do?”
“If she remains standing, we need to catch the foal and lower it gently to the ground to avoid injury.”
Elysande returned for a large, clean blanket and shook it out, setting it on the ground close by the mare. Michael squatted down, hands ready, waiting to see what would happen. But Hera changed her mind and lay down again.
Some minutes passed. Concerned, Elysande said, “I need to check the position of the foal. I hope it’s not breech.”
She rolled up the sleeve of her gypon and knelt next to the mare. Stroking her gently, she said in soothing tones, “I must feel for your little one, Hera.”
Elysande inserted her hand into the birth canal and moved it upwards. As she suspected, the foal was in the breech position. She turned it as best she could and then slid her arm out. Immediately, Hera stood and walked anxiously for some minutes, pausing once for more food and water.
“Was it breech?” Michael asked.
“Aye. Hopefully, between what I did and her pacing, the foal will be in a better position now to be born.”
The horse came again to lie on the ground. She had barely stretched out when the foal’s head and neck squirted out, encased in a bluish-white sac. The shoulders soon followed. Then a hoof appeared, followed by another one, as the foal’s front legs appeared. Hera rested for a while and then began straining.
After some minutes, Elysande became concerned with the mare’s lack of progress.
“I’m afraid we’ll need to step in and help her. She’s very tired and weak now.”
“Tell me what to do.”
“We’ll each need to take one of the hooves in our hand and hold the foal’s leg in the other.”
They bent in front of the panting dam. Each took firm hold. Michael looked to Elysande for further instructions.
“On three, we’ll both pull gently.” She counted and they moved as one, helping to expel the foal to its hips.
“Stop,” Elysande said. “Hera will need to rest again before we can continue.”
The pair sat on each side of Hera, stroking her gently. When Elysande judged that enough time had passed, she said, “Let’s work together again. Pull the foal’s hooves toward Hera’s hooves. ’Twill help rotate her hips and ease the foal from her.”
