Confessions

Chapter 6



It was late July when I decided to take a walk out to the fields where the Sheriff’s horses were grazing. Well, I say that I decided, actually, my husband had ordered Guy to “get Mildred out of my way, and while you’re at it, check the boundary fencing on the estate.” Things had not been going well, either financially or in terms of the outlaws, for my husband over the summer, and his irritation had reached new heights. I was more than glad of an excuse to escape from the castle, even if this time it was a short walk rather than a country ride. Because of the excessive heat of the summer, the horses had been turned out into the fields and were only being used for “official” business.



Fury had recovered from his injury some weeks ago, and when Guy was not using the horse for his duties, he had decided to put him out into the field, for as long as the warm spell continued. Rosa and Fury had objected so strongly to being parted that she had been put in a field nearby, and that, for the moment, seemed to placate them both. She had been in and out of season for three months since the light had been growing stronger in the spring and summer, so they couldn’t be placed together all the time, but she seemed temporarily, to be calming.



The hazy summer sunlight cast the fields and the surrounding trees with an iridescent glow, and there was a light breeze that rustled the uppermost leaves of the many oak trees that made the border between the forest and the fields. This was the easternmost aspect of the vastness that was Sherwood Forest, but I knew that the outlaws would not venture this far out of their stronghold. That was why horses were still grazed here; it was too close to the castle for Robin Hood and his men.



In truth, by this time, I knew that keeping me company was no longer a chore for him, but Guy kept up appearances by lodging the usual sulky protest to my husband. De Rainault had been far too preoccupied to notice the lack of vigour in his protest. Ever since our quiet truce, Guy and I had been growing more accustomed to one another, and, if the truth was told, I looked forward to his company with a pleasant anticipation.



He was a complex character, moody, sometimes immature and definitely bad tempered, but in quieter moments he was almost likeable. I even risked the very odd joke at his expense, which was received with alternate sulks and smiles, depending on his mood. As the days passed, I began to feel pleased that my husband put such trust in his steward as to allow him to spend so much time by my side. It was either a testament to Robert’s trust in us, or his utter indifference. I was never sure which.



Today, when I met with Guy he was dressed in a shorter sleeved blue tunic and black breeches and boots. He obviously didn’t see the need for the chain mail on a walk around the estate. His hair had grown longer, and I noticed that she summer sunshine had bleached it even lighter. He kept flicking it impatiently from his eyes, in a gesture that reminded me of Fury. I, rather flippantly, told him so, and he grimaced good-naturedly. He strode beside me, checking fences and grumbling half-heartedly about the “damned lazy” labourers on the estate.



“Pay them to do a decent job and they will,” I responded lightly, hoping that I could finally start to change Guy’s attitude about the common people.



“They’re lucky they get paid at all,” Guy grumbled. “They should be whipped senseless for the job they do.”



I laughed, hoping, although not entirely certain, that he spoke in jest. I still couldn’t be sure-his mood swings were frequent, and well known.



Suddenly, something caught my attention in the middle field. A black stallion was galloping madly across the pasture and didn’t seem to acknowledge the wooden fence at the boundary. In a matter of moments he’d be up to the fence, and I wasn’t entirely sure that he’d make the jump over.



“Guy, look!” I exclaimed. “Isn’t he beautiful?”



Guy squinted against the light of the sun and put a hand to his eyes. Then, the squint turned to a frown.



“It’s Fury!” He growled. “Has that bloody animal taken leave of his senses?” Guy jogged down to the boundary of the nearest field and climbed up onto the fence. He turned back to me with an odd look on his face. “Mildred?”



“Yes, Guy?”



“Is Rosa grazing in that far field?”



“As far as I know,” I replied. “The Sheriff ordered them all to be turned out, and the stable hands know how close Fury and Rosa are-she’s the only horse that can calm him.”



Guy looked at me. “I don’t think she’s calming him at the moment,” he said crossly, but shifting rather uncomfortably, obviously embarrassed about broaching this subject with the wife of his master. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, Fury’s caught her…scent, and he’s going to her.”



“Scent?” I asked, and then blushed. “Oh. I see what you mean. But she’s not supposed to be in season again.”



“Well she obviously is!” Guy retorted. “And if she causes Fury to break a leg on that fence, I’ll have her disposed of.” In a flash he had vaulted over the boundary fence, and started to run across the field towards Fury. However, he might have had long legs but there was no way he was going to catch the stallion. Moments later, Fury had prepared for the jump and, as if my nervous intake of breath buoyed him up, he sailed over the boundary fence and onto the other side.



By the time Guy and I had caught up with Fury in the next field, it was hopeless. I had gathered up the lightweight summer skirt I wore, and in a most unladylike fashion I had sprinted to catch up with Guy, but to no avail. He climbed over the fence that Fury had just cleared, and then he turned to help me over it. I couldn’t help noticing how warm his hands were as he took mine, and how the run across the field had brought colour to his cheeks once more.



“Now he’s got this far there’ll be no stopping him,” Guy panted, looking as though he was about to try to do that very thing. He helped me to the ground and then quickly, self-consciously, dropped his hands. He began to walk over the field, and I sorted out my skirts and followed him.



Sure enough, there, under the trees, in the corner of the field was Rosa, and Fury was with her. We were a fraction too late. As soon as they came into clear view, a loud whinny rang out, and Fury dismounted. By the time we approached them, Fury was nibbling the sole dark patch on Rosa’s neck and it was all over. The black stallion looked at the two human invaders and I was almost certain that he gave an amiable warning to stay away.



“Fury, you bugger!” Guy swore, heading towards the two horses. “I’ll have you gelded.”



Fury merely seemed to look back at his master with barely hidden disdain, if such a thing were possible. He wasn’t worried by Guy’s presence, but there was certainly an air of “Don’t even presume to discuss this with me.”



I again caught up with Guy and Fury looked at me curiously. He knew who I was, of course, but this was an odd situation and he walked around in front of Rosa, as if she needed protecting. I put out a tentative hand to stroke the horse’s dark mane, and that seemed to reassure him that I was no threat.



“Careful, my Lady,” Guy warned. “They can be unpredictable after…that.” He was obviously concerned, and he put out his own hand to grab a handful of Fury’s mane to lead him back to the near field. As he did so, our fingers became entwined in the unruly tangle.



Time seemed to stop. The accidental touch was an exquisite blend of warmth and nervousness, and as Fury swung his head to look at the two humans by his side, he pushed me a little closer to his master. I took an instinctive step forward and found myself very much closer to Guy. So close in fact, that I could feel the heat coming off his body in waves from where he had sprinted across the field, and hear his breathing, which was still a little fast. I noticed the smooth, unlined sweep of his jaw, and I could sense the hardness of his muscled chest a whisper away from me, and in that moment, everything changed between us.



Whether it was the scent of horses in season in the air, or merely the summer heat, something happened. Guy might have been moody, irritable, insecure and hot headed, but he was also young, virile, and totally unlike the man I had married, and I found myself wanting him. I raised a hand to try to touch him, and my fingers lightly pressed into the contours of his chest, desperate to make more contact with him.



I felt him freeze under my touch, although I knew my hands were warm. In that moment, he broke the spell. He knew; he felt it, he must have felt it, but his sense of duty to the Sheriff was just too strong. “We should return to the castle, my Lady,” he said, a slight growl in his voice. “We need to inform someone that there may well be a foal soon.” Stepping back, he opened up the gap between us and pulled firmly at Fury’s mane. “And as for you,” he addressed the horse. “You’re damned lucky I don’t geld you myself.” He clicked his tongue and began to lead Fury back to his own field, leaving me temporarily alone, my heart beating madly.



He didn’t say a word on the way back to the castle. The small thing that had passed between us in the far field was a closed book. It was, I suppose, as it should have been. But I knew things had changed, and I would have guaranteed that he knew also.