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.
