Origins
CHAPTER FIVE

When Hugh returned with his horse, Constance thought it was the most beautiful animal she had ever seen. It was a deep brown colour and seemed to glow like a polished chestnut. Hugh dismounted, dropping gracefully to the ground, and helped her to stand on the bench to reach up to the stirrup with her good leg. She managed to swing herself into the saddle despite fearing that she would make a fool of herself by tumbling off the other side, and she held onto the mane with both hands. Hugh then jumped up behind her, took the reins and, with a light kick, they moved off at a gentle walk.

Constance bit her lower lip as she felt Hugh’s powerful arms around her, and his body pressed up against her back. It was the first time that she had been on a horse, and this close to a man. His breath stirred her hair, and she felt the pressure of his chest against her back as she gripped onto the horse with her hands and knees. She inhaled his scent - fresh hay and cedar, overlaid with a musky earthiness. She felt twenty feet tall and light-headed.

“He’s a lovely looking animal,” she said to disguise her embarrassment at how close they were.

“Yes,” he croaked and coughed. “He’s one of the finest in the stables and I’m very lucky,” Hugh’s voice was husky, as if he was finding it difficult to breathe.

“What’s his name?”

“Um, Leon.”

She just nodded.

“This is very kind of you…” she continued.

“Please don’t mention it. As I say, it was my fault. Anyway, it’s not every day that I get a chance to ride through town with a beautiful lady…”

She felt herself blush at the compliment. She struggled to think of something to say but came up blank.

“Thank you,” she said simply. “You are too kind.”

“But I mean it. Look how people are staring at you.”

“We both know why they’re staring, and it has nothing to do with my looks, just how this looks…” she trailed off.

“And how does it look?”

“Like you’re carrying a young maiden - a witch’s daughter - off into the woods.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Like a villain?” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“No. Like a prince…”

“Well, I did sort of rescue you…”

She laughed. “And you are one of the most eligible bachelors for miles around…”

“Why thank you, my lady,” he replied.

“Well, one compliment deserves another…”

“So you don’t really think that, you’re just being polite?” he teased.

“I think now that you’re fishing for compliments…” she teased him back, “so I won’t answer. But surely you must be worried about your reputation, being seen with someone like me?”

“I have no problem with that, after all, as a knight, I will be duty bound to come to the help of a damsel in distress. So I only see this as enhancing my reputation.”

“But people won’t know that’s what you’re doing. They will think that I’ve used one of my mother’s potions to bewitch the lord of the manor’s son and to steal him away.”

“Well, that is partly true…” he mumbled.

“What? That I am stealing you away?”

“No, that you’ve bewitched me.”

Her mouth was dry, and she gasped.

“Sorry, I’ve embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to, but you are very… well, you look. I mean you’re… beautiful…”

“Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly.

They fell silent as they made their way down the track to the cottage and drew up outside. Hugh slid off backwards and came around beside her. He held up his arms, and she had no option but to slide down into them and put one arm around his neck. He carried her gently up to the cottage door.

“Hello!” he called. But there was no answer. Her mother must have been out collecting ingredients or wood for the fire.

Constance reached down, pulled the latch up, and the door slid open.

She felt Hugh hesitate.

“Don’t worry. She isn’t here. And I locked all the small, imprisoned children and the bats and lizards away before I left for town.” She laughed.

“Hilarious,” he said, but distractedly, as if maybe she wasn’t joking.

“OH!” she exclaimed.

“What? What’s wrong?” Hugh looked around the garden nervously.

“I forgot all about the butchers. I didn’t get the meat.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it for you.”

“But he’ll be closed. I should have been there ages ago.”

“Then I’ll go tomorrow and bring it around.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. If my ankle isn’t better tomorrow, Mother can go. I can’t ask you to do…”

“You didn’t ask. I volunteered and it would be my pleasure.” He hesitated. “Besides, it will give me a chance to come back and see you again.”

She blushed in his arms. “I… I…”

“Just to check on the patient and to see how she’s doing, of course,” he smiled down at her and she held his gaze slightly too long, captivated by his bright blue eyes.

“Well, anyway, where shall I put you?” he said as he carried her into the gloomy interior.

“I can walk now, thank you,” she said and climbed down. He held her until she had her good foot on the flagstone, and with her arm still around his shoulders, he helped her hobble over to the chair.

“Do you need anything? A drink or food,” she offered.

“No, thank you. I’d better be off. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you. I can hobble around the walls if I need something.”

“Well, here, put your foot up.” He pulled a stool out in front of her and gently lifted her leg, so it was resting on it.

She felt a burning sensation where he touched her, and the heat coursed through her as he made sure she was comfortable.

He was blushing when he turned back to her. “Well… Um… I’ll be off then…” he stuttered.

“Yes, of course. Thank you again.”

He waved away her thanks and bowed low. Then he turned and left her, clicking the door closed softly behind him.

Constance sat on the chair, chewing her lower lip. Her breathing was heavy, as if she’d been running, and she felt a soft fluttering in her chest and neck. She was still warm from his touch, and she felt confused by her reactions. Surely it must be from the pain in my ankle. I am… I… can’t. It’s silly… she didn’t know what to think about what had just happened.

But as she sat silently, all she could see were his cerulean blue eyes and feel his brawny arms around her, and his breath stirring the hair at her neck.

That night in the tavern, Hugh told Guy what had happened after he’d left. Guy was intrigued to know what Hugh had found in Agatha’s cottage - it was as if he expected the devil himself to be sitting at the fireplace taking tea - and he evidently enjoyed telling Hugh tales of dead cats, cattle and pigs, and warring neighbours falling ill suddenly when one or other had been to see Agatha. And of missing children kidnapped, taken deep into the forest, and sacrificed to the devil to keep Agatha, who was really over 200, looking younger than her years. And of people who’d shunned her having their well water turned red with blood the next day.

Hugh just laughed at him and accused him of being no better than a fishwife prattling on about witches and village gossip.

“I don’t believe any of that nonsense and as a god-fearing knight-in-waiting, neither should you,” Hugh laughed, but he knew he would have to tread carefully if he was going to keep seeing Constance and said as much.

“And what purpose would that serve?” Guy asked.

Hugh sat quietly, frowning, as he wondered that himself. He didn’t have an answer and changed the subject, earning more ridicule from his friend who didn’t want to let him off the hook, and demanded a response. “I don’t know,” was his simple answer. “I just enjoy her company and want to get to know her better.”

Guy studied him for a moment, then relented. “Well, you be careful. A man in your position has a reputation to protect and responsibilities. So don’t go promising things that aren’t in your power to give.”

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

“I think you know, but to spell it out - it can only be a bit of fun. Something to divert you. It can’t be serious and lead to anything. After all, you aren’t free to set your own course and while you can have your dalliance, that is as far as it goes.”

Guy got up to relieve himself and get more beer and Hugh sat quietly, staring down into his tankard. He wondered what he expected and hoped from her? He’d enjoyed her company and had promised to go back with the bacon, but was that all? Was that to be the end of it? Maybe that was all she had wanted from him - help to get home and then to run an errand. Maybe that was as far as it would go and he would see her, deliver the meat, and that would be it. She wouldn’t want to see him again, and Agatha would warn him off. So Guy needn’t worry about the future, after all it may not involve Constance at all, he realised.

But Hugh couldn’t get her out of his thoughts. Her auburn hair and green eyes, her fine features and skin as pale as marble, seemed indelibly inked in his mind. She was different from the other girls, witty and cheeky, with a glint in her eye and a ready smile on those rose-hip lips. She was stunning. Her figure, when he had his arms around her on Leon, had set something stirring in him and he’d never felt like that before.

At twenty, he’d had women, and been well schooled by the wenches he’d met in the tavern in the ‘sins of the flesh’, as Eustace called it. But this felt entirely different, more like a fire that, rather than starting in his trousers, began inside his core, his chest and stomach. As he thought of her, he felt an ache and his gut writhed like a bag of snakes. When he’d been with her, he didn’t want to leave. He longed to see her. He felt like he needed to see her again as surely as the Earth needed the sun to rise every morning.

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