Prologue #2
Lady Mary sighed heavily, with sadness, from beneath the piles of fabric over her face.
This was all so new and exciting and thrilling to her, but she was also starting to feel some frustration that she had to keep her head covered simply for the blind experience he promised her.
She wasn’t entirely sure her senses were heightened because she could not see what he was doing, but there was a certain amount of anticipation as to what his next move would be.
She liked what he was doing so far. It was exciting and made her feel quite womanly.
She simply wished that she could watch him.
But Gates was firm that she keep the cloak over her head.
In fact, she tried to lower it slightly, simply so she could peep one eye out to watch him, but he had quickly put it back over her head and then he had leaned on it with one big arm, anchoring it down over her face so she couldn’t move it at all.
Meanwhile, his free hand was at the junction between her legs, stroking her so that she eventually forgot about the fact that she could hardly breathe.
And then, she felt it.
Something big and heavy was against her woman’s core; she could feel it, warm and smooth and pushing into her.
He was pushing into her slowly, rubbing at the nub of pleasure buried deep in her woman’s center as he did so, and she forgot all about the cloak over her face as her body started to twitch and jerk with pleasure.
The brisk rubbing he was doing against her was making her legs quiver uncontrollably.
She could feel his body as it entered hers but she was so overcome by the other sensations he was creating with her that all she could do was lay there like a mindless, boneless lump of flesh.
She couldn’t respond in any way. She could feel his body pushing more deeply into hers and she waited for the flash of pain that would signal the end of her maidenhood, but he was rubbing her tender core so briskly that she almost didn’t care.
“Marrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry!”
A voice over the heavy breathing, from outside the barn, carried upon the cold air. Gates came to an immediate halt, his head shooting up, as Lady Mary propped herself up on the hay, the cloak and skirts still over her head. Clumsily, she yanked them off.
“My father!” she gasped. “He is looking for me!”
Gates was already securing his breeches, having to fold his erection back painfully as he did so. Damnation! He cursed silently. He’d been too slow in doing what he needed to do and now he was caught with his….
“Marrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry!”
The voice was closer now. Breeches secured, Gates was already on the move, leaving the way he’d come.
There was a big grove of trees to the south of the barn and he’d tethered his horse there, sheltered from the snow beneath the heavy canopy.
He was already running away as Lady Mary tried to grasp at him.
“Wait!” she cried softly. “Please… when will I see you again?”
Gates paused by the gap in the slats he had slipped in through, one leg out into the snowy night beyond.
Looking at her mono-brow and pimpled face, he suddenly couldn’t remember what had him so excited about the woman to begin with.
She certainly wasn’t worth risking his life over when it came to an angry father. He smiled wanly.
“In your dreams, love,” he said, blowing her a kiss purely for effect. “You will see me in your dreams. Adieu!”
With that, he disappeared out into the snowing darkness beyond, leaving Lady Mary flustered and as frustrated as she could possibly be.
As she gasped and grunted with disappointment, trying to straighten out the clothing that Gates had thrown askew, her father and two older brothers entered the barn.
“Mary!” her father barked. “Did ye not hear me callin’ to ye, lass?”
Lady Mary was agitated as she tried to cover herself up. “I heard you,” she said, obviously unwilling to explain the real reason behind her presence in the barn on this cold and frozen night. “I… I did not want to answer you.”
Her father and two brothers came to a halt, eyeing her as she sat, open-legged, on the hay stack. “Why not?” her father demanded, wondering why his daughter’s clothing was all pulled apart. “What are ye doing out here?”
Mary wouldn’t look at any of them, trying to fasten up the top of her surcoat where Gates has ripped the laces out. “I… I wanted to be alone,” she said petulantly. “There is nowhere to be alone in that big house so I came out here to be by myself.”
Her father was increasingly confused. “Alone?” he repeated, looking at his equally confused sons. “Ye have yer own chamber, lass. Ye could have spent time alone in there. Why did ye have to come out here to… ah… God’s Bones, Mary! Now I understand!”
Lady Mary looked up from tying off the top of her bodice, puzzled at her father’s tone. “What do you understand, Father?”
Her father had an expression that suggested complete and utter disgust. “Ye… ye wicked girl!”
Lady Mary cocked her head curiously. “Wicked?” she repeated what he had said. “Why am I wicked?”
Her father grew red in the face, suddenly quite flustered. He shoved at his sons. “Get back in the house,” he said. “Get back… go, I say! This is not for ye to hear!”
Now it was Lady Mary who was increasingly confused. “What on earth is the matter with you, Father?”
Her father jabbed a fat finger at her. “Enough!” he said. “Ye… ye vile creature. Yer clothes are… and yer bosom is untied… ye came out here to… to…!”
Lady Mary threw up her hands. “To what?”
“Gah!” the father threw his hands over his ears. “I cannot say it! Ye… ye came to pleasure yerself where ye would not be seen! Ye wicked, wicked girl! The priest will have something to say about this!”
It occurred to Lady Mary what her father thought, and it was far from the truth.
The man thought she’d come out there to touch herself in inappropriate ways, at least as the church viewed it.
She’d done that to herself, of course, but this time, it was a man who had shown her pleasure.
She suddenly felt quite ashamed that her father thought she had come all the way out to the barn to pleasure herself and she shook her head furiously.
She had to confess everything lest she find herself at the mercy of the parish priest, who was a lascivious and dirty old man.
Nay, it would be better for her father to believe she was a harlot rather than a masturbator because, under no circumstances, did she want to face their priest.
“Nay, Father,” she insisted. “I… I was not alone. There was a man with me. A knight. But he is long gone and you cannot find him. We… we only kissed, Father, I swear it.”
Her father began to roar again, hands still haphazardly over his ears.
“Lies,” he hissed. “No man would sneak away to kiss ye, Mary. ’Tis time ye realized that.
And no man would risk my wrath for the likes of ye.
Come with me, Daughter. We will see the priest this evening so he can purge ye of this…
this wicked desire ye have. Yer sins will find ye out, Daughter! ”
Lady Mary found herself being hauled up from the hay, being dragged out into the night by her father.
She struggled against him, and even pleaded with him, but the man was resolute.
His wife having died years earlier, he had been the sole parent to Lady Mary and it was clear he had failed miserably if the girl was out in the barn pleasuring herself and then inventing imaginary lovers to cover her dirty actions.
As Lady Mary was dragged off to the priest who sent her father out of the room as he spanked the girl’s naked buttocks with a switch, and enjoyed every strike in a most peculiar fashion, Gates was on his mighty steed, riding north through the snowy trees, heading for his army which was, at best, only a few hours ahead of him.
He’d brought one thousand two hundred and eight-seven men with him back from France, men who served the Lord of the Trilateral Castles, the Earl of Trelystan.
Jasper de Lara was a strong supporter of Prince Edward and his wars in France, so much so that he had sent his best knights to France for the past fifteen months. Now, it was their time to return home.
Riding hard into that frozen night, Gates quickly forgot about Lady Mary and his inability to complete what he had started with her.
Instead, he found himself looking forward to returning home again.
He knew of several local ladies, at least he had fifteen months ago, and he hoped to see them again.
In fact, he hoped to see a great deal of them.
Already, he was calculating which lady he would see first. Those were thoughts that made him press his horse even faster.
It was back to the Marches once more and the hope for continued romantic possibilities.