He wondered again how it was that onlythisman appealed to him. He’d seen plenty of strapping lads over the years, and none of them had affected him like Vasily did.
He watched for a minute more before deciding that he didn’t really care about the why. The important thing was that he and Vasily fit together as perfectly as a dovetail joint, two pieces slipping easily into place, becoming one.
He smiled to himself and went back to work, carrying sacks and stacking them with the ease of twenty-odd years’ experience, and soon enough the cart was empty. All around them, Mother’s stable boys and grooms were working hard, diligently sweeping and shovelling and cleaning, just like he’d taught them. It filled him with a sense of pride, and as he walked the length of the stables, he made sure to deliver words of encouragement.
When he got to Ollie, who was tending to Crown Prince Davin’s mount and cooing sweet nothings at the horse, he remembered his earlier decision. “Ollie, lad, got a minute?”
Ollie’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Of course, Mister Jones, only can I just finish up here? I’m nearly done.”
Mother nodded approvingly. Ollie’s determination to finish what he’d started was confirmation of the rightness of his choice. Soon enough the horse had been turned out to pasture, and Ollie came and stood in front of him, hands clasped behind his back, spine ramrod straight. He bit his bottom lip before blurting out, “Am I in trouble?”
Mother reached out and patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Not at all, lad. The opposite. Come walk with me?”
Ollie let out a long breath and his shoulders slumped in relief. Leading him into the side room where they polished the tack, Mother gestured for him to sit down at the wooden table.
Mother took the other chair, clasping his hands in front of him. “Do you like working with the horses, lad?”
Ollie nodded so vigorously that a shower of straw fell from his hair. “Yessir.”
Mother grinned at his enthusiasm. He’d thought about teasing the boy before delivering his news but found he couldn’t do it. “How would you feel about being apprenticed as a groom?”
A squeak escaped as Ollie’s mouth dropped open. Mother grinned and waited, and eventually Ollie managed to gather himself enough to say, “That’d be bloody brilliant!”
“That’s a yes, then? It’s four years, mind.”
“I know, I mean, yes, I mean, please!” Ollie’s leg jiggled with excitement, and his face split into a wide smile. “Do you really mean it? You really want me?”
“Can’t think of anyone better,” Mother said, standing. “We’ll get it sorted with the steward tomorrow, and you can start your proper training next week.”
“Thank you,” Ollie said, his voice hoarse. He stood quivering with excitement and dancing from one foot to the other. “Can I tell my mum and dad?”
“Course you can, lad.” Mother had already discussed his plans with King Leopold, and they’d agreed Ollie was a good choice, so there was no reason for him not to share his news. “In fact, once you’re done here, you can go home and tell them.”
Ollie was on his feet in a second. “Thank you! I wanted, I mean, I’d hoped—” He stopped mid-sentence and launched himself at Mother, throwing his arms around him and whispering another hoarse, “Thank you!” as he squeezed him tight.
Mother laughed and squeezed the boy back once before making a shooing motion. “Off you go. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
Ollie beamed at him before practically bouncing out the door with excitement. By the time Mother stepped out of the room, he was long gone.
Mother looked around, but Vasily was nowhere to be seen, so he walked around to the stables where Blackbird and Shadow were kept. Even though the horses had been put out to pasture, Vasily was there sitting on a low stool, his back against a stall door, elbows resting on his spread knees. He looked relaxed and happy, his head tipped back and eyes closed, but they snapped open when Mother approached, and he grinned. “I just saw Ollie go racing past like his arse was on fire. What did you do?”
Mother shrugged. “Told him I’d apprentice him.”
Vasily’s face split into a grin that was, if possible, wider than Ollie’s had been. “You do know that was his dream?”
“I had an inkling,” Mother said with a smile, “and he’s a good choice, so why not give him what he wants?”
Vasily stood and stretched, giving Mother a glimpse of the skin of his belly, and Mother found himself recalling last night, when he’d pinned Vasily to the bed and pressed soft kisses all over his hips and stomach before stroking them both off, fast and urgent, and collapsing in a sweaty, satisfied heap.
Heat surged through him at the memory, and he wondered if he could get away with dragging Vasily back to their cottage and doing it all again.
He blinked.
Theircottage.
Suddenly, he wanted that desperately.
“Mother?” Vasily laid a hand on his cheek. “Are you all right?”
