5 comments/ 60136 views/ 22 favorites Lord Reynard's Fancy Ch. 01 By: rosamundi Thanks to loyal readers so far, and for the kind advice several people have given me. I am changing the title character's name to Lord Reynard for the sake of a Norman, not German, name for my protagonist. Please comment early and often as I add chapters, they really help me emotionally and as a writer! * Lilac ambled through the gaping stone entry of the huge manor house never entered by village folk. Their lord had returned only recently from a long series of military campaigns with his soldiers. Unaware that she was being observed, she craned her neck and examined the pattern of braced stones forming the pointed tip of the arch. Dallying was not a habit, but she had butterflies in her stomach at the thought of entering service there. The idea of working at the manor for a lord, a knight no less, seemed as strange and unknown as fighting in a war herself. As she drew near, Lord Reynard restrained himself from equally obvious inspection of Lilac. He welcomed her gruffly, relishing the uncertainty of her countenance. Like any good swordsman he strove put his opponent off stance from the outset. Lilac looked even fairer than when he had struck the deal with her father several months before to engage her as the maidservant in his small but ancient manor house. Now that she had finished with the harvest, she was his for the winter. Her dark fine hair was caught back in a maiden's simple plait, escaping wisps around her face accenting her fresh, ruddy complexion. Bright green eyes and pink lips framed a big snub nose. A comely blush spread through her cheeks down her throat to her full breasts as his gaze dropped to her buxom form. Her wide farm girl frame was luxuriously plump, with a pillowy belly and wide inviting hips that flowed into short but lovely legs and calves made shapely by a lifetime of muscle building labor. As the noble's gaze traveled up her body and he locked eyes with her, Lilac found her voice and greeted him. "Good morrow, my lord. I am come to you for the season now the grass is in." "Good morrow, Lilac. You will follow me to your chamber to dress, then John will show you to the kitchen and you can prepare supper for the four of us. You will sup with me as you serve. You will address me as Lord Reynard or Sir." He started across the entry with a brisk stride, the tight orange hose encasing his long legs confirming that this was a man still very much in his prime. Lilac had never seen a doublet so short on a man so well built and though the view at the manor house was pleasing enough. She kept up as best as she could and arrived at her new room slightly breathless, hoping her short legs would serve as cover. To her surprise, it was not off the kitchen or up the stairs, but with the main bedchambers and she remarked on it before recalling her manners. "The upper rooms are used only for guests, there is no need for one man to occupy them all. They will not need most of your time and I will hire extra hands if visitors come. I will not overburden you with cleaning or have you sleep by the spit, you are not a drudge." Lilac felt pleasantly surprised, as her father had not inquired closely about her duties and she had formed little idea of them herself, being the first in her family with the good fortune to find work as a servant. "I thank you, sir...Lord Reynard." "No need for thanks, I have other duties in mind for you, Lilac. Your first, I hope, will be pleasing. Heat water for the bath you find waiting." As he opened the door to a small but tidy and richly decorated room, Lord Reynard met her eyes again with a smiling intensity that she looked too innocent to yet recognize, and gestured her in. Lilac accordingly stepped past him, allowing a full view of her lush behind which he appreciated in like fullness. He indicated a pile of garments on the carven wood bed and closed the door, settling himself on one of the oaken benches lining the hallway to anticipate Lilac's reappearance. He had chosen her clothing with care, and whiled away the time imagining Lilac running a soapy cloth over her soft curves and donning the new outfit. Finding a blaze in the hearth and hooking the water pot onto the spit to heat, Lilac moved to the bed and lifted a finely woven linen shift with awe. She marveled at its smoothness. The waiting fire and large copper bath, the tapestried walls and cozy shift all seemed too fine for a mere servant raised in the kind of short rough frock she had just removed, but she supposed she was merely ignorant of aristocratic ways. Lilac poured the heated water into the cool bath and slipped in with a contented sigh. She was used to washing a day's sweat off in a stream or trough in summer and could not remember bathing at home during the winter, though a few of the village women had always offered her a chance with a friend, looking after the motherless child of an embittered father. Now there was a delightful aroma as she soaped and scrubbed the grit of the harvest away. Still, she hurried, mindful that a lord was waiting on her. Lilac had never felt anything like the softness of her new chemise and took a moment to savor the sensation. Next came a dark green kirtle of the same material with long sleeves and skirt, then over it she laced up a short sleeved and skirted woolen one of a brighter green. She had envied visiting servants of the highborn in similar clothes at the inn but was unused to clothing so tight. She felt as if her kirtle scarcely covered her breasts, though in truth she supposed she would not consider it immodest on another. Shoes of soft brown leather replaced her worn wool ones that required wooden pattens even indoors. Lilac reveled in her new found bodily comfort. She shifted the sleeves of the chemise and under-dress to her elbows and kilted up the long skirt to mid-calf, preparing to work. Lord Reynard felt his chest tighten as his new maidservant emerged in her finery, followed by a tantalizing draft of soap scented air. Lilac's still-dripping braid was draped over her shoulder and hung to her hip. As he rose, she dropped a deep curtsy, gazing up with a radiant smile, "Thank you more than I can say, my lord! Did you fetch this cloth from the Holy Land, or from heaven itself?" The knight laughed, "From neither, Lilac, merely from France on the way home from our last campaign there. Men do not set eyes on the Holy Land now as we did in days of yore, alas. Do you like your clothing then -- all seems to fit as it should?" Having made the excuse, he allowed himself a lengthy appraising look as she rubbed the smooth linen sleeve and exclaimed over its softness. The nobleman schooled his features and slowed his breathing, once again leading the way and explaining the ways of the household and Lilac's place in it. She was to help care for the fowls, milk the few small cows and turn the dairy to good account, garden, cook and clean the first story of the manor house daily, and the second weekly. She felt well able to rise to these tasks, having kept house for her father and helped at the nunnery and the inn where Lord Reynard had first seen her. They met up with his head man at arms as they crossed the courtyard to visit the outbuildings. "John, this is Lilac, the maid we have in from the village to cheer our winter hearth. Lilac, John was my father's squire, and spoiled me so badly by his skilled service that I have yet to train a lad of my own." John, a man of some years still hale and ruddy, gave a small bow and with kind dark eyes welcomed her to the manor. "No need for introduction! I have told Sir Reynard already that you make the best venison stew for miles around. Shall I hunt accordingly?" Lilac laughed and curtsied slightly. John frequented the inn with his wife Maisry, and his presence set her at ease for they proved friends to all. She took his bait and fell into their customary banter. "I do not doubt your skill with the bow, sir, but unless you wish for a month of salted venison at the table for four, mayhap we could wait until Lord Reynard has a feast. Then will I take the best of the meat for our goodly lord's stew, and you may roast the rest for our guests." "Well, I will leave you together to praise each other while Lilac meets our men and beasts. Send John to fetch me when it is time to sup." The knight turned back inside laughing at their display. Lilac found the kitchen well stocked and arranged, and throwing on an apron (not linen, but still a finer weave of wool than her best dress from home) flew about preparing a thick rabbit stew and late greens from the garden dressed with honeyed herbs. She baked trenchers for the night and the morrow, then drew more water from the well and set the pail close to the fire to warm for washing the pot, bowls and utensils. Her love of cooking and the pure thrill of finding more ingredients than she had ever encountered compounded the pleasure of a bath, fine clothes and pleasant companions. Joy was bubbling up in her to a degree she had scarcely felt in her young life, and Lilac relaxed into relief that her lot would not be a hard one. She occupied herself in assorting the kitchen to her liking, opening boxes and bags, smelling and tasting unfamiliar herbs and spices and grouping them by effect -- savory, tangy, bitter. She gasped when she found a large green stone cellar filled to the brim with whole cloves, each worth its weight in gold for its power over toothaches as well as meat going onto spoiled. Lilac checked the brew barrels, finding mead and ginger beer instead of the small beer she was used to, in addition to local cherry and strawberry and wildflower wines. There were bottled wines as well from France and Italy. Lilac moved the tisanes and herb teas near the barrels and bottles, placing bottled oils both plain and infused closer to the fire and cooking herbs. Lilac moved through her work in a daydream of pure pleasure, creating a giant's feast of imaginary dishes inspired by what seemed a king's ransom in spices. The thought that she was expected to share each meal she cooked, combined with the lingering perfume of the soap and soft linen against her skin aroused and sated her senses. As he approached the great hall after closing his ledger, Lord Reynard wrinkled his brow at an unfamiliar sweet sound. At last he recognized it as a merry singing of a lusty ballad. He chuckled to hear his innocent servant maiden tunefully describing the gore of battle and the distress of an apron that would not tie. He intended to spare her the sight of the first, but grew surer by the moment that he would devote himself closely to the last. Lord Reynard's Fancy Ch. 02 Thanks to my readers who comment, I am improving greatly as a writer, hence I have edited this chapter. I've also switched categories to romance. I live for your feedback, so please comment, even briefly, when you rate this to tell me why you gave it the stars you did. Thanks again! - Rosamundi * On market day a fortnight later, Lord Reynard addressed Lilac as she cleared breakfast, "I am visiting the smith with John, and I would have you ride with me." She spun instantly, glowing eyes and dimples answering as she told him, "I will take stock and be ready when the horses are." As he walked off he heard her singing, "So she's made her way to her father's good stable..." Just the response he had wished for! Hopes so high as Lilac's could only be disappointed. When John helped Lilac up behind their master she unwisely looked down as Saracen trotted out of the gate. Saving the odd mule cart ride during harvest, she had never been so high watching the ground move while she sat still, and in carts she had been distracted chatting with other workers. With a sound of pure terror she tightened her hold on Lord Reynard for dear life. The pleasant shock of her soft and shaking body pressed into his overwhelmed the knight's senses. He had thought her fair, hired her into service over others because she was so and meant to bed her. None of it prepared him for Lilac to embrace him in truth, no matter how little intended. The regret he felt at calling a halt did not reach his voice. "Lilac, a country girl like you frightened of a horse?" "I be not afraid of horses, sir. I feared me I would fall off. I never sat atop of one before!" Panicked, she lapsed into the rough speech Mother Genevieve had improved over the years as they cared together for orphans and others without family or fortune to provide for their needs. Lilac found safety at the nunnery, while the sisters and their wards found her strong back and soothing voice alike of benefit. Lord Reynard looked around at her with surprise at this, unable to recall a time before he could ride. Warm memories of snuggling into his father's strong arms in the saddle flooded him, making him smile with a new thought. On impulse he kissed her hand, "My apologies, Lilac, I did not consider it. You must needs sit before me, I see, the better to learn riding." He dismounted Saracen, then cheerfully placed his hands on her hips, "Scoot you to the front of the saddle and hold it. Saracen ever shifts while I mount. Brave lass! Look now to the tree line and not the road, and grasp my arm." Circling her waist, he grinned as she wrapped her hands around his forearm dragging it higher for balance. Signaling Saracen into a walk, he explained, "He will walk until you are ready to move faster. Then will you learn the steps he gains speed with." As Lilac's fine hair that never seemed to stay entirely bound caressed his face and he watched her breasts bounce, he realized his day had improved almost by the moment. "I am ready." Despite his doubt, Sir Reynard moved Saracen to a trot. Lilac held on tighter, sitting up stiffly. He felt rather than heard her gasp. "If you hold yourself looser, Saracen will feel calmer." Sir Reynard then spoke more softly as he pulled Lilac tighter between his thighs, so close that his beard tickled her ear, "Think you I cannot hold you fast? Have no fear, I will not let you fall." "If you hold yourself looser, Saracen will feel calmer." Sir Reynard then spoke more softly as he pulled Lilac tighter between his thighs, so close that his beard tickled her ear, "Think you I cannot hold you fast? Have no fear, I will not let you fall." "My thanks," she replied, barely recovering her composure and gentled speech. She leaned into his large form and tried to do as he advised. It comforted her at first, but as they rode on rubbing snugly against each other her heart did not stop pounding. To her horror she realized why. This was how she felt in rare but longed for embraces with Willie, son of the innkeepers she cooked for betimes. Willie, who was of her station. Nay, even he was above her birth. They had hidden their affection for that very reason. So much the more her lord, who paid her meat and wage and shielded her unwittingly from beatings at home. Even as Lilac commended herself to her duty she noticed anew Lord Reynard's muscled arm just under her breasts, his chest hard at her back, his heat surrounding her. She must never betray such a brazen lapse if she hoped to keep the comforts of her service at the manor. Lilac knew well that Lord Reynard himself would never mark it if she lusted on him, or act on any such toward her. His honor was beyond doubt and he looked not to servants for sport. John and Maisry both had shrewd eyes enough to see the sun by day though. Saracen sped to a canter, unrestrained by Lord Reynard as he marked Lilac's distracted air. John watched the scene before him, well entertained by his usually stern knight's open flirtation and joyful mood. "Lilac grows bolder already, well done. Mayhap you might teach her to wield a sword anon." She giggled at the thought and Lord Reynard threw back his head and roared. He sobered a bit and declared, "Indeed, she bears courage as high as any lad I have trained up. I have never seen her a-scared before this day though she has had cause." Lilac replied instantly, "Pray, my lord, tell me when I have had cause to be scared in your household." "Most would call me a man of fearsome strength and a warrior," he said, then growled playfully, "And it is true." "Yet, I have never seen you harm any." "You have watched me fight my squire here! I have harmed him." "You have wounded John, and he you, while both stay in..." here she was interrupted by John's merriment-laced thanks. "I hope I do not grow so feeble that I cannot get a blow in, when I fought beside his father while he lay swaddled at home!" "Talk of my swaddling clothes more in Lilac's company, John, and you will mind your age when we meet next in the yard." Lilac waited until their chuckling faded and spoke on seriously, "You have not harmed him. Keeping your sword arm skilled and your men likewise in their wits protects us all. I trust you the more because of it, and do not take fright when I see it. You are not cruel, or unjust. You have never raised a hand to any of us in anger over trifles. I have felt fear aplenty in my life, but never in your company or house." "My temper is reckoned fierce. I have seen grown men shake to hear me shout at them, yet you do not so." Lilac rolled her eyes at this, "A babe not one day in this world can squall louder than you, and with worse temper, and I do not shake for he will not harm me. No more will you. It is the same." "By Our Lady, I am glad of your good regard, Lilac. I pledge I will strive to keep it. In turn I keep mine of your courage, and your understanding." In truth, Sir Reynard reflected, he had enjoyed the results of her intelligence and observant nature without noting the abilities in themselves. From deliciously seasoning dishes, to singing dozens of songs with a dozen verses each, to tact in dealings with his men Lilac's actions reflected these qualities daily. "It wants no understanding, my lord. I serve you, and you protect me. It is the way of the world." "God forfend I need a child to teach me the way of the world." He called over his shoulder to John with twinkling eyes. Before thought and heedless now of drawing notice to incipient admiration, Lilac whipped around glaring. "I am no child!" His brows rose up but his voice deepened as he gazed into her eyes, "Nay, Lilac, you are no child. I will not mistake you again." Lord Reynard's Fancy Ch. 03 Thanks to everyone who reads and rates each chapter of this story! I'm requesting comments, because this is my first attempt at a novel and my second attempt at writing fiction. Both positive and politely phrased criticisms are welcome. "...Women are no more cowards on whole than men. You fight battles, we bear babes. My lot is as bloody and painful and mortal as yours, sir, " argued Lilac, "so I beg you cease prattling about my exceeding bravery because I will mount a horse. Every noblewoman..." "...A war horse. Stay - do you tell me how many noblewomen you have known in your vast..." "...Your tales of Lilac and the Destrier make me to wonder if you have known any women at all before me!" John managed at once to snort with merriment and choke on his supper upon this remark. Maiden she might be, but Lilac had learned the workings between men and women long before this day. She herded rutting animals in her turn with the rest of the village, watched over births at the nunnery and served at the inn dodging drunken fondling. Coughing his food down, he howled with laughter, setting off his wife as the carnival went on. "...I have not known you at all Lilac, but if that is your wish my chamber lies..." "...My faith and troth you'll never get, me you'll never win." she sang brightly. "Christ's wounds, Lilac, if I could ply my sword as you do your tongue I might be an emperor and not a knight." "I want some weapon to contend with your tongue, and John has not yet begun training me at arms." Maisry butted in with a glance at her husband, "Then shall you be emperor and Lord Reynard your thrall." John winked his agreement that it seemed so to him already. "The little sauce needs not your aid, Maisry." grumbled Lord Reynard with good cheer, as he narrowed his eyes at John in mock anger, "I am beset on all sides in my own domain." "Let John train you at arms first then, my lord." Lilac replied all too sweetly, starting toward the kitchen, "Maisry, let us clear and wash up together." "Aye Maisry, get the wench out of my sight, or at least my hearing!" *** Lilac's panic over lust eased once she grew accustomed to her new place. Surrounded by the bawdy talk of soldiers, she found that gibing covered her feelings and her blushing alike. Her face grew red no matter what she laughed about, and she could always be shriven for sin. Sir Reynard met jest for jest, his raillery as much in earnest as hers was in disguise. To be sure he had gazed on her with some heat at first, but no more than she knew she had reflected back, or any other newly met man might look with. He withheld himself from touching her friends, looking upon them as desirable women, but he clear enough regarded her as a babe he could cuddle in the saddle and pull down on his knee without tempting. She dared not treat him in like fashion for fear where her hands would wander once begun. If those actions had left her in doubt, the knight's habit of casting his doublet and shirt off in the yard while fighting as if she were just another lad about left none. This set her teeth grinding by day and by night as she followed his form with her eyes in longing. Sir Reynard had a trick of draping his tall and graceful body sideways in the wide kitchen door onto the yard, conversing away with folk on both sides balanced on one long and supple leg with the other braced across it effortlessly like to bar it closed. His rusty hair was growing out in peacetime into fascinating spirals she wished to pull straight to watch them coil back with a bounce. He had great dark eyes and a beard with no two whiskers seeming the same color. The lord knew as many dances from as many courts as she did songs and taught them to any who appeared willing and many who did not, insisting to his men that it was good for their swordplay. All the while, Lilac's seeming comfort proved Lord Reynard's torment. Try as he might to gain her notice, her countenance seldom showed anything but mirth or dutiful attention. She cheered on the loser of every fighting match or shooting competition for to encourage them, unless by chance any man started besting him. Then did she cleave to the winner for a change in pace. Lord Reynard was not accustomed to taking advice from maid servants, but her good sense had grown his respect since that first ride to market. Without it he might have tumbled her with nary a second thought, but as it was she was his faithful helper and the first young woman he had comported with in close quarters, for want of sisters or nearby cousins. Lilac's radiant smile, Lilac's voice and laugh, Lilac's wit and kindness and charm surrounded him. Her shape seemed formed to madden him, her inadvertent touches made him burn til he marveled at her calm in bestowing them. Ever at hand, ever out of reach. She fascinated him as no woman in his past life had. More than this, Lilac transformed his silent manor into the bustling hub of the village. They returned from Lauds and Mass each morn trailing a nun here and an orphan there. The children performed chores for her as if apprenticed while the sisters helped with her deft management of his tithing. Among them they knew every soul in need on his land, and what each lacked for. Besotted men at arms vied to build coops and dig privies for aged widows. They carried veterans missing the odd limb to his yard and miraculously even attended to the shouted training advice to win Lilac's cheering praise. For his part the knight rekindled friendships with his favorites among these, his father's men. When the sun set on the yard, Lord Reynard and his squire held councils with the old men on the manor's defensibility and planned drills or hunting sorties with them. John listened closely to their wisdom, and following in his stead the knight found himself learning new strategies for nearly every aspect of running a thriving community. He was inclined to meritocracy in any case, through years of training and leading soldiers. Though oft couched in folklore complete with vexing unmatched rhymes, once he sifted through some chaff the lord of the manor discovered wheat in plenty. The manor house was scoured inside and out by Lilac's friends to the rhythm of work songs called between rooms, fresh rushes covered his floor and councils of women took place in his hall plotting the kitchen garden next spring, which beasts to breed with what design and how to ensure Father Talbot slept through Matins on the full moon so all could dance in the churchyard as late as they wished. Lord Reynard missed having his hounds about, since Lilac had banished all but two favorites to the run, yet he was glad enough on balance to trade their company for hers. His people loved Lilac and grew to love him by degrees where distant interdependence had been the rule for generations. His joys increased as his cares diminished. Lord Reynard gloried in the hunt: he found himself teaching serfs to trap and fish while other nobles executed poachers. A few became proficient with the bow adding to his table and his fighting numbers. This was just as well, as he and Lilac stood united in ensuring none would want for food in their domain: his was the land that yielded nourishment, hers the skill that prepared it. Drinking with the old soldiers one evening he complained in large terms how brewing smells churned his gut, the next week of a sudden the innkeeper offered to trade spirits for game. If Lilac had any enemies he had yet to lay eyes on one, yet she hardly lacked for faults. Tender toward the helpless, she relentlessly drove any she saw as lazy and her own youth and zeal blinded her to others' fatigue. She flirted with as little mercy, showing no favor toward one over another, nor yet care for men's hearts unless she meant to play match maker. Lord Reynard morosely included himself in this. Lilac paid him every duty, cast a web of virtue without dour over his household, and entertained him nearly all the time. She skirted the territory between their worldly ranks without error. Aye, that was the worst of it, she scarcely seemed to see him as a true man with feelings she might possess power to mar. He might as soon be doddering Father Talbot to Lilac's eyes. Above all, driving him nearly as senseless as her beauty of form and mind, Lilac nagged. This she did without display in almost every circumstance. Indeed until he worked out that several of his new accomplishments as lord had their provenance in her mind rather than his own, Lord Reynard marked it not at all. Sweetly it was done, with subtlety and grace of wile worthy of a French courtier. Right up to the very instant he did not yield to her art. Quick enough smiles gave way to persuasion, persuasion to debate, debate to argument, and onward to mockery that amused as it bit. Of course, Sir Reynard did get the advantage of her at times. "I entreat you Lilac, come near the hearth and open up your jaw that I may see inside your mouth." "M'lord?" She stared at him. "I never yet beheld flesh composed of salt entire, and I would look upon it." "Jape!" "Fishwife!" "Scoundrel!" "Shrew!" "Ah! Good even, sir. I hear the Compline bells and must take me to my prayers. And my bed." Right up to the very instant that she curtsied with the last word. Lord Reynard's Fancy Ch. 04 Thank you to all of you giving me high votes, it really warms my heart and makes me feel proud. If you could take a moment to make even a very brief comment, I would love to hear why you like what you like, or how I could improve the story or correct errors. I live for your comments! Oh, and chapter five is about halfway done I think, I will post it ASAP. *happy wave* * Riding Saracen together to market became a custom between them. The stable did not lack steeds, and Lilac could now sit her own mare, yet they persisted without speaking of it. Lilac relished their physical closeness, no longer needed for reassurance but somehow never altered. If she shook in the saddle when riding with Sir Reynard still, the shrewd winds of the deepening winter could let it pass. Lilac had decided that she might use these rides to drag Sir Reynard into awareness that she was a woman grown. If he would not bestow his notice, she was determined now to grow bolder and attract it. Maisry had great skill at seducing John whenever she wished, and Lilac learned by watching. Rubbing up against her man in any fashion, even discreetly, seemed to work every time. Lilac recalled that Willie had loved doing so to her when kissing. A good gallop on market day might serve the purpose without looking suspicious. One day after market, fortune favored her when the Sir Reynard asked, "Lilac, might you ride with me to the wood? I am minded of a few snares nearby I must attend to." Lilac mockingly affected deep thought, then replied, "I will accompany you sir, if you agree to spur Saracen into a gallop this very instant." "You strike a hard bargain, but since it speaks to your boldness as a rider...Done!" Laughing at how close to the mark she hoped this to be, Lilac leaned herself forward to adjust for speed and pressed her seat back hard, letting Saracen's gait provide all the rubbing. It worked. He bent down over her and his hand slid to her breast. She felt him harden against her and by the time they were well into the wood her breathing was ragged and the cold wind forgotten. Sir Reynard reigned in Saracen and practically dragged her out of the saddle. He backed her against a midsized tree and locked his hands behind it, trapping her. His eyes narrowed and darkened as he leaned his face into hers. "If you act like quarry, Lilac, you might just find yourself snared." His mouth crushed hers in a fierce kiss and she reached for the buttons of his doublet, undoing them with shaking fingers. "Lilac, what..." "If you snare me, sir, prepare to be bitten." She lunged for his bare neck and made good on her threat. She could feel his pulse gain speed under her lips as she covered each bite with a kiss, as if to ease the pain or apologize. She fumbled with the ties to his shirt, wanting to feel him, needing to run her hands over the skin and muscle and hair of his chest. Sir Reynard responded with no hesitation or uncertainty, pinning her willing form to the tree with his own hard body and moving his hands to cup her face. He kissed her repeatedly with increasing passion before speaking in an alluring tone, "Ah, sweet Lilac, I could not have pinned you thus if ever you listened and kept a firm stance." She bit him like to draw blood at this. "Do you never stop jesting, or reproving, or commanding? And why think you I would wish to keep on balance in your wake?" she asked with an incredulous grin. "Enough talking," he said, suddenly serious yet soft, "Lilac, I would see your hair unbound if you are willing." "Aye." Lilac replied simply, with scarlet face and pounding heart. No man had seen her hair unbound since before she knew her prayers by heart. It was the most erotic request she could have imagined, and her belly clenched as she unpinned her braid, brought it around her shoulder and untied the green ribbon. She worked her fingers through the locks, untwisting the tiny plaits at the end with her eyes cast down modestly. She felt his fingers fanning out the untwisted hair, loosening and caressing it with a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan. It gave Lilac a sudden feeling of command over him, allotting the courage to raise her eyes once more to his. Brown eyes locked with green as they continued to take down her hair in concert. Finally the last plait was undone, and she shook her hair out completely. Sir Reynard rubbed his cheek against her loosened hair while turning them around slowly, as if in one of his dances. He took Lilac's hand, and sliding down the tree trunk pulled her down to his lap for more kisses. *** Reynard could not believe his good fortune. Though innocent and a bit timid at first, Lilac had proved a quick and eager learner. This day he had persuaded her to mount him, and her gasping delight added to the look and feel of her sheathing herself on his staff had him groaning without pause, scarcely able to contain himself. He had to close his eyes for calm as he guided her soft hips down until she had him hilted within her. Lilac began to move upon him and it was Reynard's turn to gasp. His eyes flew wide and he was greeted with the sight of their sliding bodies, her rounded belly and swaying breasts with nipples hard as small cherries, the enchanting flush that ran from chest to scalp, and her own glowing green eyes. Her silky chestnut hair swept down caressing his thighs and balls. He had never seen a more alluring sight and his control vanished. He began thrusting wildly and soon bumped into her womb. Lilac cried out and momentarily he though he had pained her, but when she pleaded over and over for him to do it again then shattered around him he was undone. Reynard woke from his dream with his seed spurting on his belly and cursed, while Lilac sighed herself to sleep after the glow of her release, her fingers still twitching between her thighs. Lord Reynard's Fancy Ch. 05 I'm overwhelmed and delighted by your amazing response to chapter four. I was a bit unsure how readers would respond to my psych out at the end, but it seems nobody minded and you found it as fun as I did. Please keep the comments coming, since this is still my first work of fiction. I've had extremely helpful advice from several readers that have improved the story, and I thank them! * The cold grew more bitter and the days shorter as Advent neared. The harvest and hunting had been plentiful and abbey, inn and manor stores overflowed allowing Lilac to breathe a sigh of relief. She had rejoiced to leave all the brewing to the expertise of Willie and his father. Lilac felt grateful that the hunters handled butchering, salting, smoking and drying themselves. She and her helpers preserved the innards as mincemeat and sausage and jellied dishes while making stew and soup with the tastiest. Lord Reynard had believed his manor clean, but apparently he was mistaken, at least by Lilac's standards. For Christmastide she intended it to sparkle, and with the help of friends had made it so. The boot printed floors, however, caused despair in her heart and the knight noted that she remained ever scrubbing at them. One day as he and John walked through the great hall, they spied her at it again with unusual clarity. On this mild morning the waxed cloth window coverings had been thrown back to let bright sunshine and fresh air in. Lilac had cast off her looser wool kirtle and kilted high the tighter and lower cut linen gown to form a knee rest on the stone floor as she brushed away with sudsy water. Their conversation stopped as they caught sight of the comely lass scrubbing while singing a raunchy song about a tin smith servicing various women, her creamy thighs slightly exposed, her rear and breasts swaying to the beat. Hearing them pause, she knelt up and asked innocently if there was aught she could do for them. The men exchanged a strained look, John breezily assured her that they needed nothing, and they continued to the yard. Lord Reynard started punching icicles off the stable roof in frustration. "Now there is a sight to make an old man feel young again!" John murmured, adjusting his clothing. Lord Reynard just kept punching icicles, his breathing heavy as he grunted an assent to John's remark. "If you want the lass so much, saddle up Saracen, ride into town with her, wake up Father Talbot from his nap and you'll have her wedded and bedded within the hour. Were I unmarried, I would not hesitate a moment." John advised with some impatience. The situation appeared simple enough to him. Lilac clearly adored their master, and he was nearly as bad over her. "Are you truly suggesting I marry my own peasant? What about duty to bloodlines and wealth? Nay, I could not think of such a thing." "Think you that your importance is so grand you cannot marry as you like? This is a tiny holding in an undesirable border region. Your land yields plenty and you have money in store. Your parents were strangers, it took them many years and more lost babes to find love for each other. My lord, you want the lass and she yearns for you, and you can get a child with her as well as with any other. You possess the power and freedom your sire did not, why not seek you joy for yourself?" "Putting aside that Lilac pays you more notice than me, John, what of a lady to preside over the manor?" "Find me a more capable lady for your manor and I will find you a ten legged frog! She does not exist. The more, if Lilac watched me a tenth part of the that time her eyes follow you, I would be tempted into bigamy, though Maisry alone is like to end my days early with tousling. Feel not jealousy for any man, 'tis misplaced." "I am grown and can manage my own affairs, John!" shouted Sir Reynard, now thoroughly out of temper. "Ah, clearly. Well, my lord, I will leave you to yourself. I am minded to find my wife now. As you could at will." John retorted as he turned on his heel. *** A small mountain of almonds and gallons of honey appeared one mid morning for the making of Christmastide marzipan decorations. Lilac had discovered the extent of her lord's sweet tooth during berry gathering, when she had counted herself lucky to save a few for the pail for every handful he ate. Lilac called him a babe who must eat sweets until his belly ached, then threatened to banish him from the shrubs for the crime of stealing pies from the populace. That only resulted in him rolling around on the ground laughing at her. "You have lain me low for a space with your wit, maiden, but I am still lord of these lands and will eat as many of MY berries as I choose without banishment." Lord Reynard took the delivery of marzipan ingredients as opportunity to entreat Lilac to join him in teaching dances to the townsfolk and leading the Christmastide dancing with him. To his amazement, his fearless and calm servant maiden blushed scarlet from the roots of her hair right down to the laces of her kirtle and shrunk back. "I pray you, my lord, find another to dance with. I have not enough skill at dancing to be paired with you and could only be a disgrace upon the household. Also, my duty lies in the kitchen washing up." With the sort of fancies coming to her unbidden every night, Lilac struggled to conceal her affection from Lord Reynard as it was. Being manhandled all night dancing would certes betray how she longed for him. "Nay, you move gracefully at all times and more so when dancing. I have watched you. You fix your gaze on your partner and do not grow dizzy, and you learn steps as quickly as ever I have. You are the only maid in my holdings with the skill to lead and teach others. And what is Christmastide without dancing?" Sir Reynard had determined he would gain the pleasure of touching Lilac's sweet body even if strong persuasion need be employed. "Maisry dances with poise and flowing steps, and is not charged with supervising every feast." "Maisry desires to dance with her husband, not one she still views as a bare faced boy. And as I related on your first day, you are no drudge here. You must indeed plan the dishes and watch over their preparation, but I expect you at my side supping while our many helpful neighbors in my hire serve and wash up. Afterward you will partner me in dancing. I taught you to ride a destrier, we can perfect a few dance steps if you truly feel unskilled when you appear so lively. Your excuses will not hold in this, Lilac." "That sounds like a demand, not a true request. Do you command me, my lord?" Lilac replied with flashing eyes. "If you insist on refusal and disobedience, then yes, you may consider it a command." Lord Reynard replied in the steely tone he usually reserved for the youngest of the lads he trained. "If you insist on making a fool of me, you will have my obedience, but nothing more." Her voice was choked and tears flowed down her face as she turned and walked off, which he put down to willfulness instead of distress. Maisry approached him soon after, "My lord, I would have a private word with you," she quietly requested. He instantly nodded and followed her to an uninhabited chamber, worried that something had gone amiss with John. He was unprepared for her heated reproof. "How came you to treat Lilac so cruelly, sir? I am not accustomed to feeling ashamed of you." "Ashamed of me? Lilac is the one acting the ass, not I!" "You have the case reversed, my lord. You pretended a request then ignored her distress and polite refusal, showing it no request at all but a command. What means all of this ill temper? I am daily in your company, and see not the disobedience you speak of or any other provocation to rudeness by the maiden." "Maisry, I will not hear this from..." "Reynard, you will hear it from me, for I am your elder if not your better and strove always to stand in your mother's place for you. Aye, think only of what she would say to your actions this night and reconsider whether you were in the right, or if you owe the lass an apology." The lord startled at his bare name, but Maisry spoke the truth and he saw it. He might not be the calmest or mildest of men, but if he was quick to give offense he strove also to quickly make amends. He embraced Maisry and kissed her hand with a look of loving thanks and rose to do so, but she tugged his gently to bid him sit again. "I have seen Lilac growing up, and you know not how viciously her father berated and beat her from the time she could toddle. You must tread carefully with her, lad. She may have her reasons for refusal. She sings tunes oft enough relating young mothers murdering babes begotten by fathers and brothers." His eyes widened at the implication, "Think you this happened to Lilac?" "She would have taken vows as young as she could if she knew herself a murderer. Still, it can happen before a child is possible. I do not think I need worry for her in that wise, but I could mistake it." "Yet Lilac is surrounded by men and does not show any fear of us. She dances merrily enough too with most of my men. Why not with me? Think you she fears me?" He asked in a sorrowful tone. Maisry laughed at this. "Nay, she fears you not. Mayhap she dances without care with others for the natural reason. She cares not for them, has no tenderness to hide." "In my dreams would Lilac care for me! She takes notice of me less than of Father Talbot. If I did see any tenderness in her, I would..." "You would what, my lord? Use it to get her in your bed and send her to Mother Genevieve come Easter when you grew bored? Think you Lilac ignorant of such things? I remind you she is a comely and virtuous lass who has served at Barleycorn's. And watched over the births of peasants cast off by lords. If you tender Lilac at all, ensure that something more than lust stirs you before you beguile her in any wise. Know that I have my eyes on you for your own good and hers." Maisry rose, curtsied and left Sir Reynard to himself. When he sought Lilac out, John reported she had retired early saying she was worn out. *** Lilac presented herself at the appointed dance lesson the next morn with an unusually glum expression. She knew not how to be so physically intimate with her lord without showing her unbidden admiration. Much as she dreamed and fantasized about him, real affection between them would come to naught, with consequences much harsher to her than him. He would remain a knight with another conquest, and she would leave the manor in disgrace and belike with child. Fortunately Maisry and John joined them to make up four part sets and be an example. They sat by the fire together waiting on her. Lilac knew most of the local reels and jigs, the foreign galliards and branles, in short all of the fast or partner switching dances, but avoided slower partnered ones from any region. As the only young woman living at the manor, she felt bound not to entice any of the single soldiers, which she could not avoid if she took part in dances styled for courtship. When Lord Reynard arrived, he took to one knee and clasped her hands. "Lilac, I have wronged you by speaking cruelly and commanding you where I should not. I beg your forgiveness, and if you wish not to dance with me or any other, that is your choice. Be easy, I will not hold you to an unjust demand or resent you for denying it. I say this before those who helped bring me up that you may trust in my intent and have witnesses to my remorse and change of mind." The return of her smile and friendly gaze seemed reward enough for humbling himself, if doing right did humble him. "I refused in haste, sir. I would be glad to learn any dance you wish to teach and stand by you in leading your household celebrating the birth of our Savior. Tis my favorite time of year and it pained me to begrudge so generous a man and master once I calmed from my anger," returned Lilac, dropping his hands as she pivoted toward the great fireplace marking the top of the hall. "Maisry, John, let us begin with palming as it figures in so many dances. I would have you show her, we can practice as couples first then as a set." Sir Reynard gave the two a sly grin, turning toward Lilac after John winked back as they took their places. They began, and Maisry announced with no hint of her own amusement, "Lilac, in fast dances locking hands speeds your spinning and locking gazes keeps dizziness at bay. In slow dances only your palms need touch, yet you must needs look into your partner's eyes to keep count together and for balance." Lilac groaned and hissed at Maisry, "Speak not the word 'balance' in our good lord's company for fear of unleashing his unceasing nagging on the matter!" Answered with a scowl from her partner, she dissolved into laughter and corrected herself, "I meant to say, unleashing his relentless wisdom." "Attend, Lilac, or you will never get any wisdom in dancing, or uncover what a charming partner you have," he avenged himself. "My heart breaks to go against you in this, lass, but do you calm your giggles to watch how I dance palms across with John. Soon even you will see the merit of slowing down a piece." agreed Maisry. Lilac watched as they danced the figure. She had been wary, recalling how courting couples could scarcely seem to draw breath while palming, but John and Maisry though flirtatious most times now seemed calm enough. Mayhap she could maintain herself thus. Sir Reynard had no intention of indulging her, which became clear as soon as he felt Lilac had seen enough to try the step with him. John and Maisry both believing Lilac attached to him had made him eager to test the idea. Fixing her with the most heated gaze he could summon, and he had considerably the advantage of her in experience, the knight subtly caressed her palm and watched her eyes widen in startled pleasure. His flirtation even induced a stumble or two. Not least when he whispered in her ear as they walked to the kitchen to fetch mead all around, "Truly, I could gaze into your eyes til Twelfth Night and beyond." Twas unfair, the knight knew well enough, but if she wished to call down his relentless wisdom on her, he would answer her challenge gladly. He became possessed of a sudden desire to prove his friends in the right. John angered him initially by suggesting he wed Lilac, but ever since he increasingly dwelt on the idea of keeping Lilac with him until death parted them. Not just in his bed secretly, but by his side for all to see. In the mean time, they could dance together. The resulting joy Sir Reynard shared with Lilac brightened their eyes and the manor from Christmas Eve until Twelfth Night. Lord Reynard's Fancy Ch. 06 I apologize for the delay, I've been very ill. Here is Ch. 6, which gives insight into Lilac's thoughts and personality. Next chapter will have more raunch and will be up in the next few days. Thanks for reading, please take time to rate and comment! * "Tell me your Ave and I will tell you its meaning in turn." crooned Lilac softly to the orphan splashing around in her tub at the hall hearth. Much as she loved reveling, she enjoyed the renewed quiet. Sir Reynard listened in dozily as he warmed himself at the fire, unable to recall this child's name. There seemed so many underfoot he could never track them. When Lilac tended their own children he would mind him the names of the babes with aright. Instead of pushing aside the thought in vexation at John, his peace filled mind let it stand. "...hora mortis nostrae. Amen." chirped the little one, "But Lilac, my Ave means naught, it only makes me to sleep better." "You understand not, Nan, yet more on this later. For now, think you that you might keep a great secret, and never whisper it outside yourself?" she asked gravely. "Aye." breathed Nan. "You must pledge me your word, by which all good folk are known to keep to truth. When you once give your word to do a thing, you must obey yourself to keep your honor that others might trust in you. Is this plain?" "Uh huh." Sir Reynard heard clear enough that it was plain as mud to the little maid, but that had not stopped Lilac from explaining chivalry to infants til now, and was not like to halt her on the morrow. His lips quirked as Lilac continued building fortifications of air. "I want after your word, for the lady with the secret would cry out in distress to hear it told about the manor, though she is a goodly lady and the secret marks only of her worthiness." "Nay, I would not make her to cry out." had him holding his breath to belie his mirth. Mayhap Lilac should take up the harp and staff and turn bard. "So, you pledge me your word?" Here the terrible screech of metal on stone and Lilac's shriek had Sir Reynard on his feet with his hand to his hip before his eyes were fully open. Before he could move an inch more, though, the shriek gave way to more splashing and laughter borne over by squeaky shouting. Lilac, drenched as a rat on a sinking ship, knelt before the tiny Nan who had leapt from the water naked, proud as an earl swearing fealty to his king. "I pledge you my word on my honor that this worthy lady might trust in me!" "Trust rather in Lilac to turn an urchin unto an earl." thought their lord. A certain degree of hopping about and mopping with cloths ensued, and catching Lilac's concerned gaze he headed off to becalm himself. Lilac's quiet tale stopped him cold in the archway. "Mother Genevieve, who wears no ornament but her paternoster, and dresses simply as any sister, is in truth a lady of high birth and great learning. She shows it not that we will fix ourselves to Father Talbot, whose degree in our kingdom is lower yet higher in God's. We orphans cleave unto her only as our worldly mother, yet she can read out from books as if they do speak with her and scribe into new ones too. She taught me when I was small that my Ave, which meant naught in my head neither sounding like to nonsense, still meant wise things in Latin, which is the tongue of the Church and heaven. Know you the Blessed Virgin's name, Nan?" "Aye, Lilac, a babe might know that, tis Mary." "Yet in God's tongue Latin tis Maria." "Ave Maria! What means ave?" "Good morrow." "And..ave Maria gratia plena...what means Latin by plena and gratia?" "Stay Nan, I will speak you the whole prayer together and then give you the words apart if you are wakeful, for they go not in the same way at the same time." He sat down composing himself to be amused, but he was not, or at least not in the main. "Good morrow, Lady Mary, full of grace..." "Might we eat of her grapes?" called forth smiles from both adults. "Grace, not grapes, silly goose. Our Lady is full of grace, which speaks of tenderness." "No grapes?" She sighed and rearranged the child on her lap, "I see I must needs begin anew with grace. We know that the Holy Virgin is the Mother of God, do we not, and through Him the mother of us all?" Nan gazed up and nodded sleepily. "Our Lady means most to you and to me, and to all whose mothers in the world have died. She is the Queen of Heaven, and can reach us here from there with our own mothers' tenderness and yet more. And so also she is our mothers' mother, and in her sorrow at being parted betimes from our Savior by death, I think me that she does show our mothers how we do grow and thrive below them, though we are parted by death for now." "Could she show my father too?" "I believe she not only could, but does, whenever he and your mother together wish to see you." "And she the like can show your mother in heaven, your father and you together here..." Nan trailed off, asleep at last. "Our Lady would NEVER show my mother that," Lilac whispered in a strangled voice, "for it would pain her full sore." Lord Reynard's Fancy Ch. 07 Thanks to every loyal reader who's hung around while I've been ill. Chapter Seven is finally here and Chapter Eight is coming. Please remember to vote, and comments are always welcome. I deeply appreciate politely phrased and constructive criticism! Hope you enjoy some sexual action at last! * Lilac rose and carried the slumbering Nan to her own chamber and bed, a treat she often bestowed on the orphans. When she returned she looked bowed down by a weariness Sir Reynard had never seen in her before. He marked that she had discarded her soaked woolen kirtle without bothering to change the damp one beneath. He moved the bench closer to the fire to keep her warm, pulled Lilac down next to him on the bench and handed her mulled wine, which she silently accepted and quaffed down at once. He did not loosen his hold on her hand. She did not pull away, but leaned upon his shoulder and stared into the flames. "Lilac..." he could not continue for the lump in his throat. "My father hates me, for I killed my mother. She died a-birthing me. I know not if he loved her so very dearly or simply wished to rule her comings and goings as cruelly as he did mine." She was blinking every instant. "Nay, Lilac, this is folly. No babe kills her mother, you would not say so of Nan." "Nan's parents and her brothers died of a fever." "It is all the same, and you would know this if your heart did not grieve you so." her knight said, reaching up to stroke her hair. Lilac said nothing. He sighed and spoke again, "By my troth, you are a worthy soul. Men give you hate, and you give us all love in turn." He kissed her brow gently, truly meaning only to soothe her. Until she raised her woe filled eyes to his, then her free hand to his beard stroking it hesitantly. All his former longing seemed to rush upon him tenfold. Lilac's face remained comely, her body soft and appealing, yet added to these now were sorrow and loneliness and they worked on him beyond the power of her most dazzling smile. He would wed her, ease that sorrow forever, plant his seed in her and give her a family of children to ensure that even in his death she would never feel so alone again. "All men do not hate me," she sighed heavily, "only my father. You have never given me hate, though I have tested you past a statue's endurance with scorn." "Not so, not scorn, but beauty and cheer and music have filled my house since you came." he hummed one of Lilac's favorite tunes and kissed her cheek and chin as the lyrics directed. This won a smile at last. "I knew not you heeded the words." "Always! My mother did sing it to me, and kissed me cheek and chin when I was no taller than Nan. When my father was home, each did take a side. It made me to laugh and fall back asleep when nightmares plagued me. They doted on me for I was their youngest and only living child." "My father never kissed me where a blow would serve, and a blow did always serve." "On the morrow I will serve him blows enough in recompense to make him smart until the second coming." Lord Reynard snarled. "You cannot..." "...Do not shield him Lilac, he merits it not. Striking a blow on another man full grown be one thing, striking a tiny child ano..." "...You mistake me, I would look on and cheer, I am not so worthy as you believe me. I do not tell you that you may not, I say that you cannot. My father dwells not here anymore. He left when I came to the manor, being a freeman, having coin enough to marry again and seeing none here he wished to wed." "That coin was your dower and he does know it!" This was true enough. Wishing to bed Lilac though he did at the time, he knew full well the men in his company would vie for her still, the more if she had a dowry though he paid them generously. Men of honor did not bed maidens and abandon them, the dowry would leave her choice to a husband who would please her. No matter, he had resolved now to please her so greatly that no other man could stand a chance in his wake, and she would cleave to him so dearly that she grew blind to all others. His rising passion was dashed by her next words. "He has not honor as you do. You watch over and protect all, he could not manage even one in his charge. Indeed, you are my image of a kind and worthy father." Conversing they had turned to face each other, and Lilac gazed up at him smiling, her eyes adoring. "Lilac, I would not have you look to me as your new father!" "MY father!" she replied with a look of rebuke, then continued as her voice grew softer and she drew nearer, "Nay, I would not look to you as my father." She raised her mouth to his with an eagerness even his most vivid dreams had not hazarded. Groaning with relief and desire, he kissed her in return with tenderness tempering his heated blood. It appeared quick enough to him that Lilac had learned to kiss enticingly with some lad about the village, though he had never seen her betray more affection for one than another. She melted into him and parted her lips. "My thanks, village lad!" he thought hazily as tenderness started to give way to the raw and unrequited lust that had tormented him for months. Lilac's wine soaked tongue stroked his and he felt his blood kindle to flame. He pulled her onto his knee deepening their kiss, and stroked the soft skin of her throat as her arms enfolded his own neck. It was soon clear that she was beyond her knowledge, yet not her depth. His fierce aggressive temper was legendary, and it rose to the surface in his passion, yet Lilac responded to all with a purely feminine yielding that had him drowning in a sense of the whole of creation as male and female and deeply, completely right. Before he knew it he was thrusting his tongue into her mouth over and over as she moaned and writhed on his lap, and he knew he must check himself if he did not wish to pain her over much when he took her maidenhead. They could wed at Mass in the morn and none would be the wiser. He started to sprinkle kisses over her face instead: nose, brow, cheeks, chin, jaw. He murmured gentle words to her as he placed kisses down her throat. "You are so fair, Lilac, so comely. When I laid my eyes upon you at the inn when we marched home, I wanted you just where you are now in that moment." he whispered as she in turn kissed his brow, his hair, the back of his neck. She had one hand curled in his beard and stroked the contours of his back with the other. "My weariness dropped from me and my heart pounded as in a battle." He slid his hand slowly to her shoulder and trailed his fingers along the edge of her chemise. "You also," she panted, as he started to unlace her and caress her breasts, "I set eyes on you and felt, nay knew, I had never gazed on a true man before." Lilac started fumblingly unbuttoning his doublet as she suckled on his earlobe. Those sensations and such praise moved him to follow his fingers with his mouth, pushing aside her still damp shift and drawing his tongue down her breast. "I wanted you near me for the rest of my days." she sighed to his joy, leaning back in his arms to give him better reach. As her drew her nipple into his mouth, though, Lilac started up with an anguished cry and tore herself away from him. "Forgive me, I am sorry!" she cried out as she ran to her chamber. Lord Reynard's Fancy Ch. 08 I realize that this chapter is short, but I need to move past it to develop the story because it's been stalling me. Such are the vicissitudes of reading amateur work on the web, I suppose! I hope you all enjoy the feast of 2 chapters after a famine, sorry my disability has been kicking my ass lately! Please vote and remember that I have a comment fetish. :) * Lilac's knees and shins burned in agony on the stone floor as she woke, groaning to find herself still in the world and not heaven, which seemed her only refuge now. She had stayed at her prayers past Matins and far into the night to keep herself from despair or her lord's bed. Nay, they were one and the same. Prayer did not serve. Mother Genevieve allowed such asceticism not, calling it only self love in guise, and as ever she proved in the right. Lilac needed such guidance now, but could not face the abbess who had reared her as tenderly as any true mother. She felt confounded in a web of chaos and sin, one wrong besetting another upon her. Lust led to carnal actions, carnal actions showed she kept not to her duty as she had struggled to do since arriving, defying the order of the world yielded only despair, and pride kept her from penitence and its comfort. Just as well Lent would soon be upon the world, all her joy had vanished. She had thought herself lusting on Lord Reynard long, as it appeared now he did on her, and they seemed on the point of bedding each other and driving it from their minds anon when she realized her heart had betrayed her and she could not. She did wish him near her for the rest of her days. Lust would have burned itself out, she knew, and still would on his part. Mayhap before last evening she could have sported together with him and moved on to another with dowry at hand, but not now. He wished for her body, she wished for his heart. She smiled wanly to herself, "And his body." Indeed, even as she prayed, Lilac seemed to feel Sir Reynard's hands and lips and tongue on her still. Her body burned for him. She never guessed how much better a skilled lover's touch would feel than her own, or Willie's, for they had been equally ignorant. At least this day's confession was like to wake Father Talbot up wide enough. She might ply her body to gain Sir Reynard's heart, but even if their feelings became mutual, love could not change the world outside themselves. He would have to wed for alliance or wealth and to get an heir at some time. Lord Reynard had no more choice in his rank than she did in hers. How would she look on without jealousy rotting her heart and soul when that did come to pass? How would she bear to see herself replaced? Now she functioned as lady of the manor, and knew that she and Lord Reynard together had made the his domain what it ought to be. She and Willie had looked to wed and run the inn together, running the manor was much the same in terms of tasks and easier in terms of resources, for their lord was in truth a just and generous man. Absorbed in acting the part, she had forgotten herself and grown to see Lord Reynard as she saw Willie once. She wished herself in a ballad where a lord might wed a common lass, or where at least her broken heart might kill her. Yet she had sense to know legends from life. Neither would happen, and she would have to face things as they were. *** Before the Compline bell rang down, Lord Reynard realized his error. Lilac had been right to flee, she was formed for the Church, not for him. He loved her in particular, and she loved everyone without ranking one over another. It seemed clear to him now that she ought to be Mother Genevieve's successor. If she could run a manor she could run a small abbey. And it was not just in capability of management, her grasp of their faith astonished him. He admired her wit and abilities, but her philosophy outshone them. Never had he heard as moving a description of the way the Blessed Virgin watched over all. He hoped Lilac was in the right, and his parents could look upon him. After three men hacked his father apart before his eyes, he had stepped up to lead the campaign, brought his men home and fled for his mother's arms at the manor only to find her grave in the churchyard. He had imagined he looked on Lilac and saw her loneliness, but selfishness had blinded him and he had really seen his own. Everyone else seemed to love her if her father did not. Mother Genevieve treated her as a daughter, the other nuns as a true sister. He had thought to give her a family, but she possessed one already.