Roman road at Corbridge. The Stanegate will take us all the way to Carlisle.”
They rode in silence for a while, and Agneta slowly relaxed. “I love this landscape,” she mused.
“But these Pennines are bleak and barren,” Caedmon replied.
“It’s true, but there’s a wildness, an earthiness to the hills and moorlands. Look at the all bracken and heather. I suppose I’m a child of the moors.”
Caedmon pointed to a group of sheep in the distance, clustered near a gnarled tree. “They seem to like it, but they’re lucky to have thick woolly coats. Too cold, windy and wet for me. Though I must admit, the hare I’ve snared are tasty—lots of flesh on their bones.”
“You’re right. I’ve enjoyed them. Your snares are effective. You’re a good provider, and a good cook.”
Caedmon flushed at the rare words of praise and recalled how he’d become aroused watching her bite into the succulent meat with such relish, licking her lips and fingers and flashing one of her infrequent smiles.
They encountered many becks and streams and, despite the icy lick of the water on their skin, Caedmon and Leofric often took advantage to cleanse themselves at the end of a long day. Only a few lodging houses had a bath available. But Agneta was afraid of the swift rushing waters that teemed out of the crags and fells. She made the excuse she didn’t like cold water, but he sensed it was fear kept her crouching nearby, hugging her knees, longing to be clean.
“Come on, Agneta. I’ll keep you safe. Leofric will give us privacy. Come join me. It feels good.”
She always shook her head.
The lodging house in Corbridge did have baths available and Agneta asked, “Do we have enough money? I’m freezing, and badly in need of a bath.”
“Aye. We do, and we’d both benefit from a good scrubbing.”
“I’m definitely ordering a bath,” Lady Ascha told them.
“Me too,” Leofric laughed.
“I’d love one too,” Coventina Brightmore murmured.
Her mother bristled. “It’s not seemly to say such things in front of Sir Caedmon and Sir Leofric.”
Coventina blushed and gave Leofric a strange look as her mother hurried her away.
Now, in the warmth of the cozy room above the lodging house, barefoot and stripped down to his braies, Caedmon watched Agneta lather her body in the soapy water. He abruptly peeled off his last piece of clothing and joined her. She squealed in surprise. The water slopped over onto the floor as he sat facing her. The size of the tub forced him to bend his long legs, and his knees stuck up out of the water.
“Caedmon! What are you doing?”
“I’m taking a bath with my wife.” He dunked his face and came up covered in suds.
She laughed and wiped his face. It lightened his heart. He opened his legs wide and reached out to feather his thumbs over her nipples. They hardened more beneath his touch.
“Caedmon,” she whispered, half closing her eyes.
He took hold of her hand and drew it to his shaft. “Touch me, Agneta. Take me in your hand.” He curled his hand around hers and moved it on his arousal.
“It’s silky,” she whispered.
“Move your hand on me,” he rasped. “That’s it, oh God, that feels good. Keep going.”
His thumbs went back to her nipples, and he squeezed them between his thumb and forefinger.
“I like that, Caedmon,” she whispered. “It makes me feel—oh—” She parted her lips and threw back her head.
Caedmon couldn’t resist leaning forward to kiss her, sucking her lower lip into his mouth. “We’re clean enough,” he rasped, lifting her and striding out of the tub. He laid her on the bed.
“We’ll get it all wet,” she protested, laughing.
“I don’t care, wetness pleases me, and you are wet—and warm.”
~~~
The winding old Roman Stanegate did indeed provide a smoother journey as it followed the easiest gradients and they came at last to Carlisle. The town was teeming with Normans, all seemingly occupied with the construction of a
They rode in silence for a while, and Agneta slowly relaxed. “I love this landscape,” she mused.
“But these Pennines are bleak and barren,” Caedmon replied.
“It’s true, but there’s a wildness, an earthiness to the hills and moorlands. Look at the all bracken and heather. I suppose I’m a child of the moors.”
Caedmon pointed to a group of sheep in the distance, clustered near a gnarled tree. “They seem to like it, but they’re lucky to have thick woolly coats. Too cold, windy and wet for me. Though I must admit, the hare I’ve snared are tasty—lots of flesh on their bones.”
“You’re right. I’ve enjoyed them. Your snares are effective. You’re a good provider, and a good cook.”
Caedmon flushed at the rare words of praise and recalled how he’d become aroused watching her bite into the succulent meat with such relish, licking her lips and fingers and flashing one of her infrequent smiles.
They encountered many becks and streams and, despite the icy lick of the water on their skin, Caedmon and Leofric often took advantage to cleanse themselves at the end of a long day. Only a few lodging houses had a bath available. But Agneta was afraid of the swift rushing waters that teemed out of the crags and fells. She made the excuse she didn’t like cold water, but he sensed it was fear kept her crouching nearby, hugging her knees, longing to be clean.
“Come on, Agneta. I’ll keep you safe. Leofric will give us privacy. Come join me. It feels good.”
She always shook her head.
The lodging house in Corbridge did have baths available and Agneta asked, “Do we have enough money? I’m freezing, and badly in need of a bath.”
“Aye. We do, and we’d both benefit from a good scrubbing.”
“I’m definitely ordering a bath,” Lady Ascha told them.
“Me too,” Leofric laughed.
“I’d love one too,” Coventina Brightmore murmured.
Her mother bristled. “It’s not seemly to say such things in front of Sir Caedmon and Sir Leofric.”
Coventina blushed and gave Leofric a strange look as her mother hurried her away.
Now, in the warmth of the cozy room above the lodging house, barefoot and stripped down to his braies, Caedmon watched Agneta lather her body in the soapy water. He abruptly peeled off his last piece of clothing and joined her. She squealed in surprise. The water slopped over onto the floor as he sat facing her. The size of the tub forced him to bend his long legs, and his knees stuck up out of the water.
“Caedmon! What are you doing?”
“I’m taking a bath with my wife.” He dunked his face and came up covered in suds.
She laughed and wiped his face. It lightened his heart. He opened his legs wide and reached out to feather his thumbs over her nipples. They hardened more beneath his touch.
“Caedmon,” she whispered, half closing her eyes.
He took hold of her hand and drew it to his shaft. “Touch me, Agneta. Take me in your hand.” He curled his hand around hers and moved it on his arousal.
“It’s silky,” she whispered.
“Move your hand on me,” he rasped. “That’s it, oh God, that feels good. Keep going.”
His thumbs went back to her nipples, and he squeezed them between his thumb and forefinger.
“I like that, Caedmon,” she whispered. “It makes me feel—oh—” She parted her lips and threw back her head.
Caedmon couldn’t resist leaning forward to kiss her, sucking her lower lip into his mouth. “We’re clean enough,” he rasped, lifting her and striding out of the tub. He laid her on the bed.
“We’ll get it all wet,” she protested, laughing.
“I don’t care, wetness pleases me, and you are wet—and warm.”
~~~
The winding old Roman Stanegate did indeed provide a smoother journey as it followed the easiest gradients and they came at last to Carlisle. The town was teeming with Normans, all seemingly occupied with the construction of a
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