*Hi guys, this one's a different tale, not as fast paced as my other ones but I hope that it's still good enough. It was a dream I had not so long ago and something to keep you going until my next Summoner post! Thanks for all the feedback on those stories and I hope to get the next chapter off soon. In the meantime, enjoy! * SW
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Spring had settled in the village. A soft breeze wafted through the garden and Bronwyn lifted her head to breath in the warm air. After the long winter, it was a relief to know the warmer months were on the way.
She was small for her age, the other eighteen year olds towered over her five foot one, but she was well proportioned. Her breasts were full and her hips just wide enough to accentuate her toned waist. Her blonde hair, long and thick, was always tied back from her face securely making her seem older than she was and her green eyes were wary.
When she smiled, and that wasn't often, dimples in her cheeks took years off her appearance.
Unlike the other teenagers, she dressed more for comfort rather than fashion, usually covering up when the others flashed skin. She took everything seriously, having the responsibilities of running the manor thrust upon her at an early age.
The grounds of the estate were large and encompassed several fields, all of which she had managed with responsibility. Under her meticulous care, they had prospered.
The main produce was wool and meat, all from the flocks of sheep that roamed freely across her land. Her father's pride had been those flocks and many farmsteads across the lands would pay highly for one of his stock.
Unfortunately with such livestock came the ever-present threat of predators. Wolves were known to take the occasional straggler and, as such, had to be removed.
That was the reason why she made her way towards the stables to talk to her huntsman, Robert.
Not that she wasn't eager to see him anyway before he headed out on his monthly trip into the forest. Every four weeks with the rising of the moon, he left the village to stay at the woods cabin to hunt for game to stock the larders.
That and to deter the local packs from raiding the sheep.
As a young man of barely eighteen, he'd arrived in the village six years ago. Bronwyn's father had seen the potential in him and had employed him as huntsman, teaching him the ways of their woods.
Since his arrival, Robert had been successful in keeping the wolves away and he'd kept the woods clear of poachers. When asked, he'd simply said he kept the balance in the forest so the wolves never went hungry and didn't venture into the human's territory.
As a young girl, Bronwyn always shadowed him, learning woodcraft and how to shoot a bow. As she grew into a teenager, she started to see him differently. His gangly body had filled out and he had become a hansom man. His brown hair fell around his shoulders when not tied back and his hazel eyes were always serious when it came to his work but sparkled with mischief when he wasn't.
Especially when it came to women.
He'd been known to break a few hearts over the years and Bronwyn was no exception. Even though he had always treated her with respect, she would have given anything to see that mischievous gleam aimed in her direction.
As she approached the stables, she failed to see the usual gaggle of girls around. They usually crowded around to watch Robert as he exercised or did jobs around the manor, giggling as they described to each other what they would like to do with him.
That meant he had already left.
Sure enough, upon opening the stable doors she found his horse missing.
"If you're looking for our huntsman, he left a few minutes ago," a voice called to her.
She turned to see Melinda, her ancient housekeeper, hefting a basket of laundry towards the line.
"You know you shouldn't be carrying that alone," Bronwyn chided her as she took one of the handles. "Where's Jennifer?"
"She took of with her friends when she saw Robert leaving," the old woman said as she stretched her back. "She said she wouldn't be long."
Bronwyn shook her head. "She should know better than to leave her duties."
Melinda chuckled. "When you're young and a hansom man wanders past, the last thing on your mind is work. I can't blame the lass. Have fun while you still can, I say."
"I wish I had your sentiment," the younger woman said.
"You do take your job seriously, child. Your parents would have been proud."
The mention of her parents always made her melancholy. They had been dead for four years now, leaving their estate to a girl only just in her teens and not suited to the task. If it hadn't been for Melinda and Robert, she would have never kept her head above water.
Her father had died from his injuries after a cattle stampede at a neighbouring farm. He'd gone to help out when they'd been short handed. He'd always been like that, helping out when needed, but his charity had been his downfall.
Her mother had died shortly after, suffering from depression brought by her father's death and then dying from a fever that had ravaged the village.
It had been a hard year and Bronwyn had been forced to grow up fast.
She smiled despite her dark thoughts and started to help Melinda hang the laundry up but the older woman shooed her away. "You're a kind mistress but it doesn't befit a lady to do chores. You looked like you were on a mission and Robert will leave before you find him."
There had been a valid reason why she had sought out the huntsman that morning but it didn't stop the blush that started to burn her cheeks.
Melinda saw her flushed face and smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "You just leave the laundry to me. If you see Jennifer, tell her to hurry back."
Bronwyn nodded and went into the stable to saddle her horse.
From the tracks leading into town, Robert had twenty minutes head start. That was fine. He'd buy supplies before heading out so if she hurried, she'd catch him just before he left.
It didn't take long to reach the village, it was a good half hour walk, but she didn't have that much time. Urging her horse into a canter, she took off down the well-worn road.
Upon arriving, she saw Robert's mare hitched in front of the tavern and guided her gelding up beside her. The horses whickered to each other as she dismounted.
"Now there's a thing," a deep male voice drawled. "I usually don't see anything so muscular between a woman's legs other than a strong man."
The earlier blush that had been forgotten came back in full force at the implication and she turned to see the voice's owner.
A stranger leered at her from the shadows of the tavern. "And she blushes too," he stalked over to her moving with liquid grace. "I didn't think women did that any more."
He would have been considered hansom if there hadn't been a wicked gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. Long black hair had been tied back from his face in a low ponytail and his dark brown eyes gave her the once over, taking in the swells of her body as he bared down on her.
Bronwyn hadn't realised she'd backed away until she bumped against her horse. The stranger kept coming until he was so close to her that his face was inches from hers. He breathed her in, closing his eyes as he savoured her fragrance.