by Alexa Aston
Elysande poured the ale into a pewter cup and watched her aunt sip at it. She finally nodded, so Elysande gave her some of the bread, as well.
“How are you settling into Kinwick?”
“Quite well. Everyone has been most welcoming. I’ve spent several hours in your stables. You may not know, but it’s almost time for one of your dams to foal.”
“Ah, that would be Hera. She is normally as sweet-tempered as any horse I’ve known, but I fear you’re seeing her at her worst. She’s foaled twice before. Both times, her temper has grown until she gives birth, then she returns to the loving, good-natured mare we know.”
Elysande nodded. “I’m glad you shared that with me. I may have Hera’s groom take her to the pasture instead.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I’ve found with certain horses that being confined in a stall worsens the situation once they’re nearing their time to give birth. Hera may prefer being out in the open. It may make the process easier on her.”
Merryn patted her hand. “You know so much about horses.”
“Father allowed Avelyn and me to pursue our passions.” Elysande gave her aunt a sheepish grin. “Mine always happened to be horses.”
“I know it was difficult for you to leave Morningstar and Happy behind.”
Elysande nodded. “But Michael convinced me it would be too soon for the two of them to embark upon a journey of such length. My head agreed with him, but it saddened my heart. Yet somehow, he convinced a very rude groom to do his best in looking out for them till I returned to Hopeston.”
Merryn nodded wisely. “Michael is a most persuasive man. And speaking of him, have you come to any decision regarding your future?” She gave Elysande a wry smile. “Somehow, I don’t picture you spending a majority of your hours on your knees doing penance for something that was a natural occurrence.”
Elysande sighed. “I’ve come to see it the same way,” she agreed. “My stepfather was in poor physical shape. His health had faded ever since we came to Hopeston. I know now it was not my fault that he passed so suddenly. Besides, Mother would never forgive me if I entered a nunnery for such a weak reason. She’s often told me that she wants many grandchildren.”
“Have you shared your decision with Michael?”
“No,” Elysande admitted. “In fact, we haven’t shared much at all. Ever since we returned to Kinwick, we’ve barely spoken to one another.”
“Yet he is almost always hovering nearby.”
“Thanks to Uncle’s orders.”
“Mayhap he is waiting to hear from Geoffrey what the king says.” Merryn took her hand. “I know he has strong feelings for you, Elysande. But he would not press his suit if first, you did not want him to and second, if the king objected.” Her aunt squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I think you need to let Michael know you’re not opposed to match between you. He’s probably still under the impression that you’re ready to lock yourself away in a nunnery and suffer most prodigiously.”
Elysande laughed. “Somehow, I can’t see myself doing that. I believe I was being rash when I made that statement.”
“It was natural for you to experience some guilt because of the circumstances,” Merryn said. “But I would definitely clue Michael in as to your change of heart. And I hope we’ll hear soon from King Edward. I think a match between you and Michael would be ideal. He’s a fine man. I know you’ve seen how good he is with children.”
“I’ve never seen a man more comfortable with them. Especially children that are not his own,” Elysande teased.
Merryn laughed. “I must admit that there are some days when I would give Hal away. Can you imagine what that boy will be like as he grows older? The Earl of Winterbourne has it easy now with only Ancel under his care. When we send Hal his way? Hardie might send him back to us the very same day!”
Elysande giggled. “I hope that I can one day have a child as adorable and mischievous as Hal.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” her aunt warned, though Elysande saw the teasing light in Merryn’s eyes.
“If things come to pass—and Michael and I are meant to be together—then I would be happy to have a boy that looked like Michael. Even if he acted as if the Devil himself were his sire!”
They laughed. Elysande decided that she would draw Michael away today and, in private, tell him how she’d decided not to enter a convent.
And when she did? Elysande hoped he would kiss her senseless.
Chapter 12
Elysande returned to the great hall. She spotted Michael talking with Tilda. The servant met her eyes as she approached.
“Lady Merryn is staying behind?” Tilda asked.
Elysande nodded. “She’s feeling better, but she didn’t want to tax herself by being out in the hot sun for so long.”
“Lady Merryn is ill?” Michael asked, concern written on his brow.
The two women pursed their lips. Wordless communication passed between them.
“The venison didn’t agree with her,” Elysande offered. “She had a rough night after consuming it, but she’s recovered. She decided she would prefer a day resting in her chambers, but she’ll be at the evening meal tonight.”
“I’ll go tend to her now,” Tilda said, excusing herself.
Before Michael could pursue the matter, Alys came rushing up, two baskets hanging on each arm.
“Michael, you need to go to see Cook. She has food for us to take, but you’ll need to carry it.”
“I’ll retrieve it at once, my lady.” He bowed formally and stepped away.
Alys giggled. “Michael is so funny.” She looked around. “Is Mother coming?”
Elysande decided that Merryn would have to share her news with her family and retainers in her own time. She didn’t think a small untruth would matter.
“Actually, your mother said she had many things to do. She hoped you wouldn’t mind taking me to the meadow. Merryn said no one knew herbs and flowers as well as her Alys did. She told me I would learn more in your company than hers.”
The young girl glowed at the compliment. “I’ll try to be as good a teacher to you as Mother has been to me.” Alys looked over her shoulder as Michael approached, laden with a large basket.
“Hurry, Michael! We must stop wasting time. I’ve got so much to show Cousin Elysande.”
“I am at your command, ladies.”
Alys giggled again and handed over two of the empty baskets to Elysande. They set off. Many greeted them as they passed through the inner and outer baileys and left the castle grounds. Michael followed several steps behind them. Elysande knew he listened to her conversation with Alys, but he didn’t join in.
They reached the large meadow, which stretched across a wide spread of land. Many flowers dotted the way. Elysande saw the forest beyond it.
“What are we looking for today?” she asked.
Alys looked around and then pointed. “Over there. See the chartreuse yellow blossoms on tall stems?”
“The ones with a feathery foliage?”
“Yes. That’s dill. We need to pick lots of that. And we’re down to the last of the rosemary at this time of year.”
“I know what that looks like,” Elysande said. “What else?”
Alys took Elysande’s arm and walked her into the tall grassland. She motioned to their left. “Do you see the cones of lilac-pink bells past the dill? That’s spearmint. I definitely want some of that.” She thought a moment. “And lots of blackberries for Davy.”
Elysande asked, “Who is Davy? I don’t believe I’ve met him yet.”
“He’s very old now. He lives in a cottage that way.” Alys pointed to the south. “Mother told me he’s been fighting the flux. His waste is very watery and not solid at all,” she said matter-of-factly. “The blackberries will aid his digestion.”
Elysande was a little shocked someone as young as Alys could talk of such things which usually were left unspoken, but then she remembered Merryn’s practical
nature. The lady of Kinwick would never shy away from sharing knowledge with her daughter, especially if it would help one of their tenants.
“The blackberries are at the edge of the woods and just beyond it. Why don’t you start with that, Elysande? Pick as many as you like. I’ll put the excess in jars since they can’t be picked after Old Michaelmas Day.”
Alys’ words piqued Elysande’s curiosity. “And why is that?”
Her young cousin laughed. “If you listen to most people, they’ll say ’tis the Devil himself who makes blackberries unfit to eat after October. Tilda swears that the Devil spits on them so that we can’t eat them without growing violently ill. But she’s wrong.”
“How so?” Elysande asked.
“Mother tells me that it’s really the wet and cold weather that causes mold to grow on them. That alone makes the blackberries poisonous, not some silly legend.”
Elysande thought Alys seemed well beyond her years at that moment. And her next words confirmed that.
The girl moved close to her. “Now go and hunt for those blackberries,” she instructed, her voice low. “I’m sure Michael will trail after you. In fact, you might have to step into the seclusion of the woods to find the best ones.”
Elysande’s jaw dropped. “But—”
“I’ve seen the looks pass between you two. You remind me of Mother and Father. They still act like a pair of lovebirds. ’Twould be nice for you and Michael to be the same.”
Alys touched Elysande’s cheek. “I would be so happy if you and Michael were to wed.” Alys glanced over at Michael, who still stood on the road. “Michael is my favorite of all Father’s knights. He will make an excellent husband.” She dropped her hand. “So it’s the blackberries that are most important,” she said, her voice louder now.
Alys looked over her shoulder and called out, “Michael, go with Elysande. I need plenty of ripe blackberries for Davy. Don’t come back empty-handed,” she warned.
Michael came to where they stood. “Where will you be, my lady?” he asked Alys.
“Right over there. I have dill to pick. And rosemary if I can find it. Please look for that, too. I’ll join you shortly.” Alys moved away with a determined step. Once she reached the dill, she knelt and began to place it in her basket.
Michael turned to Elysande. “We have our marching orders. Come, my lady. I know exactly where to find the best blackberries.” He grinned. “This is not my first time aiding Lady Alys as she collects flowers and herbs.”
He led Elysande to the edge of the woods and beyond. They quickly located a patch of blackberries. She dropped to her knees and began picking the fruit, putting bunches of it in one of the baskets that Alys had thoughtfully provided. Michael sat down on the ground and began adding to her basket.
“You don’t have to help with women’s work,” she teased.
Their hands brushed as he pulled a berry from its resting place. A jolt shot through her. Elysande yanked her hand away as if she’d been scorched. She dropped it into her lap and stared at it. Her mouth went dry. The blood began pounding in her ears.
Then, warm fingers lifted her chin and held it in place. Her eyes became lost in Michael’s dark blue ones.
“We haven’t really talked since you’ve come to Kinwick,” he said softly.
“I know,” she whispered.
“You’ve seemed happy this past week.”
“I have been.” His fingers burned into her flesh.
“Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn are fine people.”
“They are.” Elysande continued to gaze into his eyes. She swallowed. “And I told Merryn today how I was mistaken.”
“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.