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“What about Uther?” I asked urgently.
“I hid him out in one of the old folds,” replied Martha. “Hob and Daisy stayed with him and I’ve sent Jem to fetch them all back. Don’t worry.”
We managed to half-climb half-drop out of the hiding place. One of my legs had gone to sleep and Devon had to hold me up until the feeling came back. I noticed him subtly adjust his clothing when he climbed out, not wanting Martha to see his ‘condition’. He’d remained hard throughout our hiding, his solid weapon pressed against me, making me wonder what he was thinking and wonder at the things I was thinking.
“I’m going to go scout the area to make sure they’re gone.”
Once I was able to walk again, he pulled away from me, as if embarrassed by what had happened.
“Thank you,” I said, fervently.
He smiled. “There’s really no need to thank me.”
With the benefit of hindsight, I later wondered about that.
That night, I lay in bed, unable to sleep. I knew that if I slept, I’d dream of Devon, of his lips on mine, of his hands on my body, freeing me from my clothes and then those lips and hands taking me to previously untouched heights of pleasure, and only when I was exhausted from his touch, feeling as if I could take no more, only then would he take me, not roughly but firmly, like a man, commanding my body and bringing me to yet more and higher peaks of passion. The second time would be rough, though not unkind, and the third would be soft and slow and endless until we both dissolved into mutual bliss, him for the first time, me for the umpteenth, after which we would collapse to the bed, breathless and spent, muscles aching, bathed in sweat, at which point, against all reason, he would flip me over and start again, until my limp body sang with ecstasy.
It seemed as if staying awake was not actually stopping me from dreaming, and those dreams seemed to be setting an awfully high bar, and perhaps not the most physically realistic one.
Come the morning, I went out early to douse myself in cold spring water, to see if that numbed my rampant imagination.
On my way back, I saw Devon returning from one of his nocturnal excursions. Usually, I only saw him when he was approaching the house and what I saw now took me aback. He was naked.
In fact, he was getting dressed, which made me feel marginally less guilty about watching from the bushes as he covered up that strong, toned body. I noted that he had his share of scars—he’d lived an active life, and not a peaceful one. I also noted that he had no animal carcass with him to indicate he’d been hunting. And why would he have been hunting naked, anyway? Was that another tradition where he came from? Wherever that was.
Perhaps I could ask him about it later, but there was another more urgent question I was determined to ask him before then. After yesterday, the heat between us was obvious and I no longer saw any point in denying it or denying ourselves. It wasn’t traditionally the role of the woman, but I planned to make my move, anyway. My libido was damn near forcing me.
But over breakfast, things changed.
“Time to go,” Devon announced.
“Go?” I gaped.
“I scouted around again this morning,” (why was he scouting naked?) “and I think your sister’s soldiers have moved on. I assume you still want to go to your aunt’s?”
“Well... yes,” I answered.
“I’ll help you.”
Leaving Martha’s would be a wrench, but the fact that Devon still wanted to come with us made my heart sing. Maybe he had reasons for remaining with us that went beyond being a good person—of course I had to wonder, but then that voice in the back of my head told me to trust him, that he was a good sort.
We gathered our things quickly and said heartfelt goodbyes to Martha and the children.
“We’ll definitely visit,” I smiled.
Martha’s reaction wasn’t what I expected. She looked sharply away, almost guiltily, then back to me with a forced smile. “I hope you can.”
Then she hugged me again, tightly.
By late morning, the three of us were already heading back down the mountain. I felt a little melancholy but also excited about what might happen next. I’d almost forgotten the wretched state of the world we lived in, and was finally focusing on myself and my own happiness. For the first time in a while, it seemed like some sort of happiness might be in reach.
Once we were onto the lower slopes, Devon dismounted.
“Come here, I’ve got something to show you.”
I got off Autumn and walked up to Devon.
“I’m… sorry about this,” he said.
