Godiva: Unbridled Read online

  “I’ll come meet you out there in a little while,” the lady said, her voice distant. “After I finish grooming Niklada. We still have a few hours of light left. The walk will do her good.”

  Thomas wiped his brow with a handkerchief, the warmth of the afternoon sun shining against the side of his face. The broken boards of the fence were now repaired, and although a determined goat could possibly climb over the fence if it found a pile of stones high enough to reach the top, he felt pretty confident that at least none of his uncle’s animals would be able to escape. A sound caught his attention and he turned to see the lady May leading her horse toward him. The warm light of the sun bathed her as she approached, and beneath the ill-fitting gown that she wore, he could see the curve of her hips, the space between her legs as she walked. Through the white gauzy fabric, he could see easily that she wore no undergarments, and the thought of this made him look away, as the idea of this was immediately stimulating.

  “The fence looks solid,” she said with a smile. She seemed a little less pensive than she had that morning.

  “Aye,” Thomas replied, slipping into a casual tongue. “The cow and the horses will be well contained. Did you have a good walk with Niklada?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But I think she’s wondering why I don’t ride her. She seems a bit restless. I’m glad now we can just let her in the field with the other animals. Maybe they can amuse each other for the next couple of days.”

  “They do that sometimes, yes,” Thomas laughed. “All the grazing and standing around is quite amusing, I suppose.”

  “All of them except for your ewe, that is. Did you know that she’s lambing?”

  “No, I didn’t. I just sheared her backside and belly last week. We figured she was pregnant. It was the ram on the next farm who broke down the fence to get to her in the first place. But we didn’t know exactly when it happened.”

  “Well she looks like a lambing ewe to me. You’ll probably have a baby sometime tonight.”

  “Uncle will be sorry he missed that,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “He loves that ewe. He said if she ended up pregnant he’d keep the lambs for their wool and I was going to ask Aggie Smithton if she’d show me how to spin the fleece. I could maybe start my own business in that then. Makes the broken fence worth it after all!”

  “Who is Aggie Smithton?”

  “Oh, she owns the fabric mill in town. Taught me a thing or two when I was a lad. She used to give me her scraps so I could practice my stitches. First thing I ever made were little dolls for her nieces.”

  As Thomas collected his tools and stowed them in his canvas satchel, an odd silence fell over them. He looked up at his lady and cocked a questioning brow.

  “Lady May, is there something on your mind?”

  She glanced at him, almost shyly, then looked away, back toward the barn. “I did something this afternoon, Thomas. You might think me silly.”

  “All right,” he said, amused. “What silliness have you taken part in?”

  “Well, as I was grooming Niklada, I noticed that you’d filled her bucket with alfalfa and oats and carrots, which she loves. Plus she had a nice, thick net of hay, and her stall was mucked out and so clean, and it seemed so cozy. And I just thought that you’ve taken such good care of us, not just me, but of her as well, and I wanted to do something in return.”

  “Indeed,” Thomas laughed. “You’ve no need to return anything. I’m happy to have you here.”

  “But I wanted to do it. So I thought that maybe I’d prepare a meal for us. I’ve seen the garden, and so many of the plants are heavy with vegetables, so I went out and picked them… some tomatoes, peas, leeks, even a few squash were ready, plus all sorts of herbs like parsley and thyme and rosemary. Then I found a carrot and a potato in your larder so I thought this would all make a lovely dish, a stew or something. But when I laid it all out on the tray, I didn’t know what to do with it all. Thomas, I don’t think I know how to cook.”

  Thomas raised his eyebrows, and couldn’t help but laugh. As he did, he wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, my sweet, darling May,” he said, squeezing her tight. “I don’t mean to laugh, only that you charm me so! What a lovely gesture.” As he pulled back, she moved against his face and kissed his lips deeply. Immediately stirred, he returned the kiss, her lips so supple and sweet. She made a little noise then withdrew, but giggled as she did.

  “Your face is so rough,” she said, and reached to touch it.

  “Aye,” he said, putting his hand over hers. “I’ll shave it for you. I didn’t take the time this morning, to do it before I left. And I’ll tell you what else. When we get back, I’ll show you how to make a delicious supper, from everything you’ve gathered. You’ve done half the work! Now we’ll finish it together.”

  The sun was setting as they arrived back at the barn and checked on the ewe. To their surprise, a baby lamb stumbled clumsily around the box stall with the ewe, already cleaned and flicking its little tail. The ewe stood next to her baby, licking it as it passed in front of her.

  “Is this your first lamb?” The lady asked Thomas, as he stood admiring the snowy white newborn.

  “Aye,” he whispered, not wanting to disturb the sweetness of the moment.

  “We’ll need to move her to a clean stall,” the lady May said. “With a thick, soft bedding of straw so she can keep that baby warm.”

  “Must we do it right now?” he asked. The stall didn’t look terribly messy, although it was clear where the birth had taken place. There was plenty of room for them to move around, and the baby was so new.

  “We can get the supper on, but we should do it soon after. They must be kept clean and dry.”

  They moved back to the pantry area, bringing the fire back to life, boiling water and heating the stones. When he’d been in town that morning, Thomas had been able to get a few beef bones that still had some meat on them, so he scraped the meat off them and fried the morsels in generous dollops of butter with some flour. From the vegetables that the lady had gathered in the garden, Thomas put together a stew, showing her how to chop the carrots and potatoes into pieces of the same size to ensure even cooking time, and guiding her on how much salt to use in the water. He put the heavy lid on the pot and set it over the fire to simmer and the two of them lighted some lanterns and headed back to the stable where the sheep was.

  The ewe was on her side. Her legs stuck out straight in front of her, and she was straining, her body contracting.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Thomas immediately went into the box, the lady May at his side.

  “She’s having another lamb. It’s twins.” She examined the ewe and spoke soothingly to her. “It’s all right, lass. There’s the good mummy.” She stood up and backed away. “Give her some space, Thomas. She can handle this on her own.”

  They watched for almost twenty minutes, when finally the second lamb appeared, but it was backward, its hind leg presenting itself to the world first, and giving a little kick. The lady chuckled, but her face showed concern. “That’s not the right way. They should come into the world with their little face between their front feet. But we’ll see what she does.”

  “Should we help her?” Panic rose within Thomas, watching the animal struggle, letting out an occasional “baaa.” “Is she in pain?”

  “She’s all right. Let’s give her some time.”

  The baby lamb trotted around its mother, sniffing, curious. Suddenly the ewe stood up, and started to amble around the enclosure. She bumped into the baby, knocking it over. It lay on the floor for a moment, then struggled to its feet as its mother walked aimlessly around.

  “Come here little love,” the lady said, reaching out to the fleecy youngster. She sat down in the corner of the stall, but the baby lamb stuck close to its mother, who continued to walk unsteadily. She suddenly lay down, nearly kicking the baby in the process and the lady May stepped over to move the little one out of the way. They waited anxiously while the ewe strained but finally,
the second lamb appeared, backward, but alive and snowy white with a black face. The lady moved to the newborn to wipe its mouth and clear the airway, while the mother started to bathe it. The newborn lamb shook its wet little head, ears flapping.

  “Aw, now she looks just fine. Gave me a bit of a scare there, Duchess.” The lady laughed.

  “Duchess?”

  “Aye. That’d be her name. I told you, uncle really loves this sheep.”

  “Now we need to get a clean box for her and the lambs. Hopefully she’s done with the birthing. We’ll need to get her some water and food. She’ll be hungry after all that work.”

  They got the smaller stall next to her normal box filled deeply with soft straw and a pail of fresh water and a bucket of a little grain and alfalfa, then led the ewe into the enclosure by carrying the babies in front of her, as they bleated in protest. Once in the smaller area, the ewe had a long drink, and Thomas and lady May watched until they saw both lambs nurse.

  “That seems a good sign,” Thomas said as he watched them.

  “Yes, they should be nice and warm tonight, all with full bellies.”

  “So you must have had sheep, wherever you came from before you ended up here.”

  “I suppose. I can’t remember the sheep, only what to do with them when they’re lambing. So strange, the things I remember and the things that I can’t.”

  “I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t here. I’ve never delivered a lamb before. It could have been a disaster.”

  “Well, Duchess did all the work in the end.”

  “Why don’t we clean up and let the little family have a rest? Our supper should be just about finished now.”

  The stew needed another twenty minutes to cook, so the lady May took the hot stones and pumped some water for a short bath, while Thomas settled for a quick scrub of his arms and hands and put another batch of stones on the fire for his bath after supper. By the time she emerged, changed into her clean and better-fitting shift, the cooking aroma of the stew had filled the barn, savory and rich with the smell of rosemary and thyme. They tore hunks of fresh bread from the loaf that Thomas had brought back from town and each ate their fill. At the bottom of the kettle, all that was left were the bare stewing bones.

  “If you had a dog, you’d have a proper bone for him to chew,” the lady said, nibbling on the leftover bone.

  “Well now that we’ll have a flock of sheep, uncle might feel persuaded to get a puppy. I saw a sign in town today for shepherd pups available now.” Thomas smiled at the thought. “Maybe I’ll surprise him.”

  “When is your uncle due back?”

  “I’m not sure. He said it would be in the Spring, and it’s Spring now, but I don’t have an exact date. He’s been gone nearly six months.” Thomas paused, studying the expression on the lady’s face. “I’m quite certain that he’d like you.”

  “He might even know me.”

  “Perhaps. And that could be a good thing. You mustn’t think automatically that it would be bad.”

  “I know. And I’ll have you here, right? Do you think he’ll let me stay?”

  “With all you know about animals and harvesting, I don’t think he’ll have a choice.” Thomas laughed lightly and the lady May did as well, seeming to let go some of her troubles.

  “I can clear the table now, if you’d like to take your bath,” she said. Looking at her in her clean garment and freshly washed hair, Thomas became immediately aware of the sweat from the day that still covered his skin.

  “Yes, I think a bath would suit me well.”

  Chapter 9

  Thomas reclined in the shallow water that felt soothing despite its lack of depth and dingy color after he’d soaped his body and lathered his hair. The peacefulness of the night relaxed him, the distant stirring of the animals from the other side of the barn a familiar comfort. What kind of woman had his lady been? A farm hand, the daughter of farmer, possibly the niece of a landowner? She knew about animals and how to care for them, but didn’t know how to cook. An odd combination for a servant, so perhaps she came from an equestrian family? Did horses foal in the same way that sheep lamb? His own experience was limited, as he had only lived here with his uncle for five years and the animals he had weren’t really for breeding. He stood, reaching for the cloth to scrub his skin one last time, and pulling the plug on the drain. The water escaped from the tub out a sluice that took it out the barn on a downhill, draining along the backside of the building to a field. Thomas’ uncle didn’t favor him much but he would certainly like the lady May. He would just need to get her some clothes that would be presentable, but where to get the money? He would need to trade some of his cheese again, leaving him with less to eat, but at least then he could buy her a simple dress. It seemed a fair exchange. He poured the bucket of lukewarm water over his body, rinsing off the soap and the lather from his hair, and he grabbed a towel, swabbing off his body. Now to the matter of this stubble that the lady found so uncomfortable. In the iron pot that held the heated rocks for the bath, a few remained, and Thomas lay a clean, wet cloth on top of them. They sizzled briefly, and he closed the lid, keeping in the steam as he prepared his shaving items.

  The Lady May peered through the gape in the heavy canvas curtain, saw Thomas standing naked, before the rough, vertical mirror, dipping his hand into a basin, then swabbing something onto his face. He held an instrument in his hand, and carefully scraped it against his face, then started the ritual over again. It seemed such a deliberate, focused thing he was doing that she was almost afraid to interrupt. But her curiosity got the better of her and she whispered his name.

  “Thomas?” he turned at the sound of her voice, and she pulled the curtain aside, only slightly. “What are you doing?”

  “Well, I’m shaving, my lady,” he replied, looking at her with a bemused expression.

  “Can I watch?” He laughed.

  “I don’t think it’s all that interesting but you may, if you wish.”

  She slipped inside the curtain, feeling the humidity that hung on the air. He dipped his hand into the little basin again, rubbed his face with a foamy, greasy solution, then reached up with his hand, scraping something against his jaw. Her lips parted in open fascination as the hair disappeared in a clean, smooth line.

  “What is that?” she asked. “How do you get the hair to come off?” Thomas was swishing his hand around in a basin of hot water now, and when he stopped, he held up a seashell.

  “It’s a sharpened seashell,” he said. “This side right here? It’s been ground against a stone so that it cuts like a knife, but it’s much thinner, so it’s easier on the skin. And this here,” he held up the smaller bowl. “This is lanolin whipped together with soap. I get the lanolin from the sheep’s wool. Whenever I need some, I just go trim a bit of wool off, and boil it down in water. Once the water’s gone, the side of the pan is coated with this greasy stuff. When you mix it with soap, it makes a slick cream, and the hair comes off with ease.” He demonstrated on the rest of his face, until he was clean-shaven, then he took a cloth and dunked it in the hot water, laying it over his face for a few seconds. When he was done, he leaned down to her for inspection.

  “Give it a feel,” he said, and she reached up a hand. Where there had been coarse, scratchy stubble earlier, now his face was smooth and moist, no trace of any beard. She kissed his cheek, finding herself excited by this ritual.

  “Do you ever shave anything else?” she asked, and the question made his face go puzzled.

  “No, I’ve never had reason to shave anything else. She looked up at him with devious innocence, and pulled the bottom of her chemise up.

  “What do you think it would be like to shave… down there?” Thomas was so surprised, he stumbled over his words.

  “Oh, lady… I’d be so afraid that I might hurt you.”

  “Do you ever hurt yourself?”

  “Well no, but that’s different. I’ve a man’s skin, it’s much harder than… the flesh of
a woman’s…”

  “I trust you,” she said. “I want to feel smooth like this. I want… when you kiss me there… for me to feel smooth against your lips.”

  A blush rose across Thomas’ cheeks and he looked away, speechless. He felt her tender touch on his jaw as she moved his face to look back at her again.

  “Show me how,” she whispered. “And then, I can shave you as well!” Lifting her arms, she peeled her shift over her head, standing naked as he, right next to him. Planting a gentle kiss on his neck, then his chest, she reached for the hand that held the shell, and brought it toward her. Snapping from the seduction of her kisses, he drew his hand back.

  “No, Lady May,” he said. “The edge of the shell is sharper than a blade.” She looked up at him, held his gaze. Sighing, he reached to dunk the cloth in the hot water basin and wrung it out. Taking a towel from the stack near the bathtub, he dropped it to the floor between them. Turning to her, he bent to his knees which sank softly into the towel on the floor, and pressed the warm, wet cloth against her little mound. His sex had already reacted, just to her being near him, and stood erect, bobbing slightly as he pressed his hand against her tuft of hair. He removed the cloth and dunked it once more, then pressed it against her damp curls.

  “Can you hand me that little bowl?” he asked, gesturing to the basin that held the creamy foam he’d slathered on his face. She took it from the table, and held it within his reach. The heat of the damp cloth against her felt exciting, and the anticipation of what he was about to do heightened the sensation. Dipping his fingers into the bowl, he scooped out some of the creamy foam and removed the cloth. With great care, he began to massage the slippery froth into her mound, his fingers working their way throughout the hair to rub against her skin. Her lips tingled, twitched beneath his intimate touch, and she wondered if he noticed. He seemed completely focused, staring at her most intimate spot, his mouth, which had such a magical power to pleasure her, only inches from the place where she craved for him to kiss and suck. Her breath escaped her in a lusty sigh. Thomas brought his hand that held the shell up above the line of her curls, his eyes, thoughtful and attentive. With his other hand, he held her belly, tightening the skin, then he ran the edge of the sharpened shell across her hair, and a line of course, dark blonde curls disappeared. She gasped in gleeful delight.