The next morning, there was a knock at the door. Heather decided to open it herself, since she was passing through the front hall.
Heather gaped as she saw Cameron standing there. He was groomed impeccably and held a small bouquet of asters -- a sign of love.
"Good morning, milady," he said, bowing low.
"Good morning, milord," she returned, dropping into a curtsy. She'd play his little game.
He handed her the bouquet and said, "Heather, would you like to go for a ride?" He indicated his chestnut stallion and its mate, a pretty dappled grey mare.
"I'd love to," she answered, and went upstairs to change into her riding habit.
They set off moments later and happened upon a little stream that splashed over rocks and was in a tree-shaded meadow. Cameron dismounted and helped Heather down and then led her to a shaded patch beneath a weeping willow tree.
He laid her back on the soft grass and gently stroked her hair from her face.
"Heather, you are so lovely," he said, with a gentle smile.
Heather was stunned. She didn't know quite waht to make of this.
Cameron let his hand travel to the buttons on the front of her habit and undid them, one by one, then caressed a tit through the lace of her chemise. Then he eased it down and took her nipple in his mouth.
