Chapter One
England 1072
She ran between the trees at reckless speed, barely stifling the cries of excitement that bumped in her belly with every thud of her steps across the mossy earth. This was her stolen moment, her secret pleasure and like any joy in this world it was slight and hard won, but all the more precious because of it.
The late summer daylight was only just beginning to fade, and there was still time to make it to the lake and back before supper. If she was very quick no one would ever know she'd been outside the walls again. Forbidden from bathing in the forest lake, it hadn't stopped her yet. She was hardened to punishments after five years of captivity and treated this command with the same disdain as all other rules imposed upon her by her husband.
Even if she was caught and whipped later, as long as she got to enjoy the cool water first that would be enough to see her through the pain.
The hill steepened and her pace increased until she was almost flying through the trees, very nearly out of control. Flushed and breathless she ran on, arms flapping and loose hair streaking behind. The image of diving into that cool, tranquil water after a long, dusty day, almost made her close her eyes. Perhaps she did, for a split second; that was all it took for one foot to catch on a tree root and send her, head over heels, into the bracken.
She rolled a short way before coming to an abrupt halt against another tree, and there she lay a while, winded, hot and irritated. Finally she scrambled to her feet again and descended the rest of the slope with greater caution until she was in sight of the lake.
Alas, when she reached her destination, Aelfa discovered that she was not the only sticky and tired soul betaken with the desire to bathe that afternoon. As soon as she heard the splashing, she stopped and glared through the branches, not liking her plans spoiled any more than she liked her wings clipped.
Someone swam in her lake.
But her anger dissipated in the next instant, to be replaced with another emotion for which she had no name. Aelfa swallowed a small cry and whirled around, almost falling over her feet for the second time. One foot anxious to leave, the other keen to stay, she turned back and forth a few times, until she stopped, assuring herself she had a right to look.
It was her lake. The stranger should be the one to leave—if anyone should.
Aelfa took a deep breath and chanced another look through the trees.
The man was naked. His back was sculpted in ripples of sunlight and shadow, his wide shoulders bulky with muscle as he lifted his arms and smoothed two massive hands over a head of shoulder-length, dark, wet hair. Every solid slab moved in perfect coordination. The water came half way over his round buttocks, little waves slapping gently against his flesh.
As she watched, fascinated, she heard him exhale a low groan of contentment and she knew exactly what he felt. The cool oasis, where dappled light fell through the bower of trees to dance upon the surface, was a magical spot, a dreamy paradise.
Pity he had to come and ruin it, she thought with a frown.
Again the stranger dipped his palms in the water and lifted them over his head, washing his face, hair and neck. Slender rivulets ran down his shoulders and dripped from the damp curls of black hair that lay flat against the side of his broad neck.
The last rays of sun trickled down through the leafy canopy, painting the lake with gold and daubing him with the same brush. For a moment he was still as a statue and beautiful as a god in all his naked, unabashed glory. There was something pleasing about a man when he didn't know he was watched, she mused; when he was not full of his own importance. Well, there was something pleasing about this one. And it was only about to get better.
He turned slowly in the water and lifted himself easily onto the bank of the lake, where a large chestnut horse stood patiently waiting,
England 1072
She ran between the trees at reckless speed, barely stifling the cries of excitement that bumped in her belly with every thud of her steps across the mossy earth. This was her stolen moment, her secret pleasure and like any joy in this world it was slight and hard won, but all the more precious because of it.
The late summer daylight was only just beginning to fade, and there was still time to make it to the lake and back before supper. If she was very quick no one would ever know she'd been outside the walls again. Forbidden from bathing in the forest lake, it hadn't stopped her yet. She was hardened to punishments after five years of captivity and treated this command with the same disdain as all other rules imposed upon her by her husband.
Even if she was caught and whipped later, as long as she got to enjoy the cool water first that would be enough to see her through the pain.
The hill steepened and her pace increased until she was almost flying through the trees, very nearly out of control. Flushed and breathless she ran on, arms flapping and loose hair streaking behind. The image of diving into that cool, tranquil water after a long, dusty day, almost made her close her eyes. Perhaps she did, for a split second; that was all it took for one foot to catch on a tree root and send her, head over heels, into the bracken.
She rolled a short way before coming to an abrupt halt against another tree, and there she lay a while, winded, hot and irritated. Finally she scrambled to her feet again and descended the rest of the slope with greater caution until she was in sight of the lake.
Alas, when she reached her destination, Aelfa discovered that she was not the only sticky and tired soul betaken with the desire to bathe that afternoon. As soon as she heard the splashing, she stopped and glared through the branches, not liking her plans spoiled any more than she liked her wings clipped.
Someone swam in her lake.
But her anger dissipated in the next instant, to be replaced with another emotion for which she had no name. Aelfa swallowed a small cry and whirled around, almost falling over her feet for the second time. One foot anxious to leave, the other keen to stay, she turned back and forth a few times, until she stopped, assuring herself she had a right to look.
It was her lake. The stranger should be the one to leave—if anyone should.
Aelfa took a deep breath and chanced another look through the trees.
The man was naked. His back was sculpted in ripples of sunlight and shadow, his wide shoulders bulky with muscle as he lifted his arms and smoothed two massive hands over a head of shoulder-length, dark, wet hair. Every solid slab moved in perfect coordination. The water came half way over his round buttocks, little waves slapping gently against his flesh.
As she watched, fascinated, she heard him exhale a low groan of contentment and she knew exactly what he felt. The cool oasis, where dappled light fell through the bower of trees to dance upon the surface, was a magical spot, a dreamy paradise.
Pity he had to come and ruin it, she thought with a frown.
Again the stranger dipped his palms in the water and lifted them over his head, washing his face, hair and neck. Slender rivulets ran down his shoulders and dripped from the damp curls of black hair that lay flat against the side of his broad neck.
The last rays of sun trickled down through the leafy canopy, painting the lake with gold and daubing him with the same brush. For a moment he was still as a statue and beautiful as a god in all his naked, unabashed glory. There was something pleasing about a man when he didn't know he was watched, she mused; when he was not full of his own importance. Well, there was something pleasing about this one. And it was only about to get better.
He turned slowly in the water and lifted himself easily onto the bank of the lake, where a large chestnut horse stood patiently waiting,
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