Connie had
been forced to remove her coif, revealing braids of a lovely
golden-brown shade. She also had beautiful legs. The tan woolen
hose Blaise had found for her were a little too small, so they fit
snugly, outlining every feminine curve of her calf and thigh. The
low brown leather boots and brown woolen tunic only emphasized the
fact that she possessed a slender, delicate figure. Her newly
revealed charms were not lost upon her husband. When Blaise saw the
other men surreptitiously looking in Connie’s direction, he made
haste to cover her with a voluminous cloak. But the point had been
made, and frequently during their woodland excursion that morning
Aline noticed him regarding Connie with a smoldering gaze.
“I feel so wicked,” Connie whispered to Aline
as they stood in the inner bailey waiting for the horses to be
brought out of the stable. “These hose are so unlike women’s
clothing. My own stockings are gartered just below the knee, but
these go up to my waist. They touch my body in strange ways.”
“Enjoy it,” Aline whispered back, just before
Blaise claimed his bride and bore her off to mount her behind him
on his massive chestnut steed.
As for Aline, Adam’s hose were far too large
for her, so they hung wrinkled but warm about her legs. The shoes
were also too big, but serviceable.
“I could have helped you to a smoother fit,”
Adam chided. “And a belt would nip in that too-large tunic.”
“I’ll be just fine this way, thank you. What
have you done with my cape?’
“Exchanged it for this cloak,” he told her.
“It is shorter and thus will be easier to manage after you are
mounted.” He lifted her onto his black horse and with a small
company of servants to help, they set off for the nearby
forest.
It was a sparkling day, with a deep blue sky,
though Aline could see a line of clouds along the western
horizon.
“Is that the storm you think well come
tonight?’ she asked Adam.
“Sooner than tonight,” he replied, turning
his head to look back at her. “Is it well with you, Lady Aline? I
cannot see you when you ride behind me.”
“No problem at all,” she assured him.
“Your hands will be cold. I should have given
you gloves.”
“I think yours would be too large for me,”
she said, conscious of the way she was forced to sit with her arms
wrapped around his waist.
“No matter. I’ll keep you warm thusly.” He
covered her clasped hands with one of his, then drew a fold of his
cloak around them, tucking in the fabric to keep her fingers
warm.
They rode across the fields and a mile or
more into the woods before Blaise called a halt.
“Here is holly and pine,” he said to Adam,
“and ivy on the ground just there. Ahead is a tree I marked earlier
in the year for our Yule log. Come along, lads.” Having dismounted
and helped Connie to the ground, he led three young men armed with
axes into the trees, leaving Adam to direct the rest of their party
in gathering the necessary greenery. A large piece of heavy cloth
had been brought along, and now this was spread out on the ground
like a tarpaulin. Soon they were all piling branches of pine and
holly onto the cloth.
“Here’s the ivy.” Connie grabbed a stem and
pulled, her feet slipping in the snow. She went down face first.
Aline expected her to dissolve into tears, but she got up laughing.
There was a smudge of mud on her nose and her cheeks were as pink
as Aline had predicted they would be. She looked surprisingly
pretty.
“Blaise said he was glad I came with him,”
Connie informed Aline, who was trying to remove some of the dirt
from her tunic. “I expected to be cold and wet, but this is
fun.”
“Perhaps you should put on boys’ clothing
more often,” Aline said.
“It is comfortable. But the hose produce the
most unusual sensations.” Connie’s cheeks grew pinker still. In a
moment she was back at work on the ivy, pulling up long strands of
it. At the same time, the young men who had come with them