Hellion (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards, 7) by Jayne Fresina

border is about to be married again. That should keep her
from bothering you, once she has a husband to keep her busy once
more."
    He grabbed the horse's bridle.
"Married again? The widow Calledaux?"
    "Of course. What other widow causes
you such consternation as that old lady?"
    Waving and shouting that he was not to
be late for supper, the three wives rode out of his gate with their
now empty baskets.
    Sal stared at the dust cloud they left
in their wake.
    Helene was to marry again, but she had
not informed him of this.
    Of course, she was young and fertile
so she must marry again whatever her feelings about it.
    Why should that news take
him by surprise? And was it surprise he felt?
     
    * * * *
     
    "My lady, d'Anzeray has sent you
another gift," cried Elyce, hurrying into the stables where Helene
stood talking with the grooms.
    What was it this time, she wondered,
her heart skipping a few thumps. He did like surprising her, it
seemed.
    She gave her favorite mare a quick rub
on the nose and then followed Elyce out into the yard, where she
found a spectacularly large and very well-fed boar grunting and
snouting around in the dirt. Wiping her hands on her gown, she
walked up to the bent, elderly old man who had come with the pig.
"This is a very generous present, from my neighbor," she muttered,
feeling every eye upon her in the yard. "I'm not sure I can afford
to keep such a—"
    "It is yours on loan, my lady," the
old fellow croaked. "Just until he does his business for yon sow."
He pointed with his stick toward her pigsty. "This boar is a
champion breeder and will give you a good litter. As you discussed
with my master last evening."
    "I see." Oh, yes, she saw alright. The
symbolism of this gift was not lost on her. But rather than be
appalled, as she should be, Helene wanted to laugh. "Very well,
since it is only a loan."
    The Boar-walker bowed to her and said
he would stay until the beast had performed its service and then he
would take it back again to d'Anzeray's castellany. Helene asked
that the man be taken inside and given refreshment while he waited,
for she did not like to think of the poor old fellow having to walk
the distance back and forth on such a warm day with no sustenance
between.
    He seemed very grateful for the offer
and hobbled inside with Elyce leading the way. Helene went back to
her work, slightly puzzled that no other message had come with the
boar. Perhaps he would send Harold later, telling her where he
wanted to meet this time.
    Soon the sun was at its highest peak
and everyone was sluggish, trying to find spots in the shade while
they took a break from the day's work. Helene went into the
cookhouse and found all the usual activity happening at a slower
than usual pace due to the muggy heat.
    "Where is the old boar-walker?" she
asked, looking around. "I thought he would be here
resting."
    They all looked at her blankly, and
Elyce admitted she'd been too distracted by her chores to notice
where the man went. She would, no doubt, have paid more attention
if he was young and handsome, thought Helene with a
sigh.
    "I'm sure he has found somewhere cool
to take a nap," Elyce assured her, yawning as she fanned herself
with a corner of her apron. "I can't remember a day in June ever
being so warm. But 'tis good for the haymaking."
    The conversation then turned to the
weather and harvest. Feeling wilted herself and longing to lie down
for a while, somewhere quiet and cool, Helene slipped away to her
private chamber. But when she opened her chamber door a few minutes
later, all hopes of staying cool were instantly lost.
    For there was the boar-walker,
stretched out on her bed, waiting for her, his tunic discarded.
Along with that long, false grey beard.
    Now she knew why there had been no
message sent with the boar, for Salvador d'Anzeray had come himself
to tell her what he wanted in exchange.

Chapter Eleven
     
    "You took your time finding me," he
said, eyeing her from his lounging pose.
    His words