Blind Love Ch 01

His hands were firm, as he placed one around my ankle, and used the other to grip the bottom on my riding boot. Warmth slithered across my skin, like the serpent that tempted Eve. He knew very well that touching my flesh was improper, yet he dared to be so bold. I knew I should chastise him, but when I looked down upon his bowed head as he bent to one knee, my anger fled.

He was surely one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen. His hair, while shorn roughly with a dull blade, fell softly to his brow, parted from the middle. His shining gold locks swept back from his face, to the closely cropped hair that graced his neck. He was still in his prime of youth, his face carrying naught but the faintest traces of laugh lines around his tender mouth and vibrant eyes. His skin, golden from his work at the stables, only accentuated the swirling depths of his brilliant blue eyes. His gaze was as all-encompassing as the bright sky. When he looked upon me, I no longer felt the years upon my body and the pressure of my station. In his eyes, I saw myself young and vibrant. Meekly, he kept his gaze lowered whilst I arranged my riding skirt. When ready, I placed my hand upon my mare's withers and steadied myself for the mount.

"I am quite ready, if you would please," I stated.

With one smooth motion, I was lifted free from the ground and gently settled into the comfortably worn saddle.

"Pleasant ride, mi lady."

His voice was like warm honey, slipping from a velvet tongue. So many times, we had played out this scene. So many times, I rode away no longer feeling the freedom of my foray, but the chains that kept me bound to my station. Each day he softly stroked the bared flesh of my ankle, and each day I rode off, burning for the freedom to accept his touches and every promise that his eyes held for me.

"Thank you, Aidan. That will be all."

With one final glance down upon him, I pressed my legs into the mare and trotted from the stable yard.

Though the scenery about me was magnificent, the dew still kissing the blades of grass, I could not concentrate on the beauty before me. It was quite improper for me to be riding unaccompanied, but I could not bear to have my only time of freedom hampered by an attendant. In this, I was quite firm. I clucked to my mount and quickened our speed to a canter. Her smooth gate rocked me in the saddle, the worn leather reeking havoc on my already turbulent thoughts. With every stride I would be pressed into the saddle, my most tender womanly parts, sensitized by the steady pressure. My cheeks flushed with arousal, as the cool breeze rustled my loosely plaited hair, like a lover, searching for the means to free it.

My thoughts wandered back to Aidan. It had been five years since he had come to be with us, hoping to find work to support his family. At the age of fifteen, he was already work worn and aged beyond his years. The difference between Aidan and the other youths whose stories were the same, was the fact that while his hands bore the calluses and scars of labor, his face was still bright with hope. It was as if something inside of him would refuse to let him wallow in the lowliness that could very well be his fate. He still saw the beauty in each passing day. I was already well into my womanhood, at the age of twenty and five when he came to us. My lord and husband was greatly my elder, yet he held me in very high esteem. While he loved me dearly, tenderly, our wedding night was the beginning and end to our bed sharing. I was secretly glad that he wanted me only for companionship. He was a great and compassionate man, my lord. It had been only one half of a year since his passing, and my heart was still pained considerably by the loss of his sweet company.

I was, from that point, left in a very uncomfortable circumstance. I had never had authority in my years, so finding myself a woman of holding at the age of 30 was quite a challenge. There were so many things that I had no knowledge of.

Being that I had far surpassed what was considered my prime, I had never considered the fact that I might have suitors after my lord's death. When the first crass fool made his attempt to woo me, very soon after my husband's funeral, I was sickened. From that point, I realized that my own virtues were not the consideration, as my newly inherited holdings were. I vowed to remain a widow for the rest of days, in order to preserve the integrity of my home and the happy lives of those that shared it with me. Though I had happily vowed never to again marry, as the time passed, my passions made my choice very difficult.

Like a whisper on the wind, his name floated to my ear. Aidan. He was such a warm and caring boy. I shook my head. No, in all respects, he was very much a man. It seemed that times, I let my years speak for me instead of my body and heart. It wasn't as though all of my comeliness had faded. My body was still quite lithe. My daily rides had kept my body quite firm, and my breasts still remained full, though they had succumbed slightly to the pull of my years.

Though my face was slightly lined around my eyes and mouth, my skin was still fresh looking and my eyes bright. Most of all though, I prized my hair. A rich sable, my mane fell just shy of my waist. When I loosed my hair in the evening to be brushed, I once again felt like a young girl, sensuous and inviting. As I turned my horse back toward the stables, I wondered at my loneliness. Only once had I known a man, yet my body still craved for the attention that it truly knew nearly nothing about. I longed for the excitement and passion that I commonly heard the woman folk of the house discussing in hushed whispers. Stubbornly, my mind kept racing back to Aidan. Surely, I thought, it must be sinful to want a man who was an entire ten years younger than myself. I was positive though that it was wrong for me to love him out of wedlock.

"Oh God, how cruel it is to grace me with these passions, and keep me from fulfillment," I whispered as the stable came into sight.

I slowed my mount to a lazy walk as we entered the stable's yard. Aidan stepped from the darkness and approached to take the reins.

"We have walked for some time now, so there should be no problem in returning her for the morning feed," I said, trying to drag my wayward mind from the man before me.

He simply nodded and raised his hands to my waist, to lift me down to the ground. His hands were warm and seemed to burn my flesh through my riding dress and cloak. I tried to steady my breath as he lifted me, but my heart beat even harder, as in revolt. Though he was only of medium build, he was strong from hard work. He lifted me carefully from my saddle and slowly began lowering me to the ground. I was startled to realize that he had not taken a step back from my mount, therefore, he had no choice but to lower me directly in front of himself. I could feel a flush creep across my chest and slowly wander up my neck and to my cheeks. I placed my hands upon his shoulders as he slid my body against the length of his. My every nerve was on fire with the need to touch him. My mouth opened in a gasp, not only from the contact, but also from the look I found in his eyes as I gazed down upon him. Their blue depths were alight with mischief, and something more, something darker.

As my feet settled gently on the ground, he lightly rubbed the warm pads of his thumbs across the fabric of my dress, sending chills down my spine. With just the slightest touch, he had my body vibrating with a strange heat. My breasts ached with tenderness, their nipples tight and begging. As I locked gazes with him, my very core alighted with fire, causing a moistness to gather in my most private regions. Aidan had never been so bold as this. I could feel the heat of blush upon my cheeks, and he smiled down upon me, his face gleaming with the knowledge that I desired him.

"Mi lady, hope your ride went well. It is such a beautiful and invigorating day," he said, in voice barely more than a whisper.

I could feel my pulse hammering at my breast, as I realized that he had still not removed his hands.

"Aye, all was well. Thank you for..."

My response was cut short, as his lips branded mine. I felt panic well inside of me, followed by pain, so deep in my core that I could not fully place it's origin.

His lips were gentle upon my own, softly teasing at their entrance, until I parted them just slightly. His velvet tongue invaded my mouth to entwine with my own. I had never been kissed like this before, and was astonished by the intimacy of such a touch. One of his hands left my waist and buried itself beneath my hair, to cup the back of my head. As he drew me closer, he depend the kiss, adding a white hot passion to what was so gentle. I moaned softly into his warm mouth, as I slid my arms up from his shoulders, to nestle in his brilliant blonde hair.

Though his locks were like fine silk, they were nothing compared to the texture and feel of his sweet tongue as it entwined with mine. I breathed in the sent of him, the smell of fresh hay and the muskier sent of his body. My knees trembled beneath me, yet I knew I would not fall, as his hands tightened their hold and drew me tighter against his hard body. He tenderly slid his hand from my hair, to rest softly against my jaw. He pulled from me, yet graced me with the most sweet of parting kisses, at the corner of my mouth. As he lifted his lips from mine, I looked up into his eyes. They had darkened with emotion, and his face was as flushed as mine. My chest heaved in fear and anticipation. To my surprise, he did say naught one word. Instead, he carefully took one step back and proceeded to walk toward the stable. A new blush colored my cheeks, a blush of embarrassment at being turned away by him. My body surged with a newly found energy, begging for it's own release, something so foreign to me. Feeling as though I were on the pinnacle of a great awakening, he had left me alone to face the day.

I hurried up to the manor and quickly shut myself in my room. I called for meals to be left in my private sitting room, before throwing myself into my bed and burying my face in the soft blankets. Out of the view of any prying eyes, I wept. I had felt so full, if only for a moment, and he had stripped the feeling from me, leaving me no clue as to how I could again fill the void within myself.

...to be continued.