Aidan stirred through an abating sleep, while her silent lips mouthed, “I love you, Dearest,” and her closed eyes pooled with tears. An unsettled feeling gradually gripped at her belly and churned within its walls. Instinctive love caused her body to reach for her beloved Monty, searching for the warmth his chest that would cloak her shoulders and back as it always did when they spooned in their bed before starting their day with slow, lazy, morning lovemaking. She rounded her body and stretched her right thigh outward, certain his growing shaft would find its way “home” inside her as the two mutually awakened into rousing passion.
Under the blanket, she reached her right hand behind her, expecting to feel the slightly rounded orb of his trim, well-shaped buttocks, and the smooth, taut flesh of his slender hip. But, Monty was not there. The sudden realization of being alone tugged at Aidan’s dreamlike state, prodding her into a consciousness that she desired to suppress as long as possible. As she lay there with her eyelids shielding her tear-filled eyes from the morning sun that streamed through the window, she came to realize that the vivid recollections that played through her mind were merely dreams, brought about by her intense desire to be reunited with her beloved husband. The bed somehow seemed emptier than usual as Aidan came to realize that her mind had been playing wicked tricks on her, and her phantom lover had been a mere ghostly apparition taunting her desires and clutching her heart in a merciless grip through the night.
A chilled coursed through Aidan’s veins and she visibly shuddered. She felt listless and oddly weary. “Monty,” Aidan whispered sadly, “Oh, Monty.” Weakly, she raised the back of her hand to her forehead and inhaled the chilled, crisp morning air that flowed through the room. Remnants of last night’s fire smouldered through grey ashes, but there was no one to rouse the lingering embers and cinders. Despite her lethargic state, Aidan knew she had no alternative but to venture into nearby Woodchester Village just as soon as she regained the strength she was certain had been sapped by a restless night in unfamiliar surroundings.
Aidan pulled herself to a seated position and wrapped her arms around her bent legs. Many puzzling thoughts and questions crossed her mind. She could not recall undressing or slipping into bed the night before. She noticed that she had not heard the bells ring in the tower on the quarter-hour. But, these thoughts were secondary to the vision that unfolded before her eyes as she scanned the room.
With childlike awe, Aidan became immersed in the beauty of the bedroom that only daylight could glorify. Gilded candlesticks stood like sentinels at each side of the luxurious bed, while an ornate, sky-blue brocade canopy hung overhead. Antique tapestry rugs, from Monty’s exotic travels, adorned the rich wooden, marquetry floors. Solid walnut and gold-leafed chairs, with chiseled velvet fabric, flanked the rose-colored flocked walls. Ornately hand-carved mouldings, with gold-leaf over gesso, surrounded the rich, hand-painted ceiling. Aidan’s eyes twinkled in merriment as she drank in the overwhelming splendor of her surroundings. A glance at the shattered mirror strewn across the fireplace mantle gave Aidan room for pause. She would make certain to hire someone to clean the unfortunate mess before day’s end.
Monty had a keen eye for elegance and spared no expense in lavishing Aidan in luxury. Some might say that he indulged her to extreme excess, but none would dare elude to those sentiments in his presence. He adored his wife, his little chenepan. And in return, Aidan worshipped her husband and master more than life itself. The two were soulmates, together through eons, sharing never-ending love.
Reluctantly, Aidan slipped from under the heavy, embroidered coverlet. She teetered as her legs weakened beneath her weight. For a moment, she perched on the side of the bed, regaining her strength while her eyes searched the soft mounds of clothing heaped on the floor. “Odd,” Aidan thought, “I’ve misplaced my chemise.” She rolled onto her side and reached down to scoop up her riding trousers and petticoat from the foot of the bed. Just then, a piercing pain stabbed through her left breast as its weight settled on the bed. She quickly cupped the tender flesh in her hand and gently stroked the nipple to soothe it. A frightening vision flashed before her. She saw Monty, transformed somehow, with elongated teeth and brilliant red spattered over his lips and chin. Closing her eyes to clear the sight from her mind’s eye, Aidan flicked her thumb across her nipple. The pain mixed with a deep-seated, forbidden pleasure that she presently had no time to explore. In her mind, Aidan surmised that she had somehow injured her nipple in her sleep, perhaps pinching it to excess between her fingernails during an erotic dream.
Over the following two hours, Aidan forced herself to prepare for the day. She would have preferred to sleep, but hunger pangs and a looming cloud of loneliness prodded and urged her to ready herself for a journey into the nearby town. As her mind cleared, she thought of items needed for the household ... new-laid eggs, fresh butter, fancy cream, mincemeat, sausage, goose, and new raisins. Woodchester Village was a far cry from London and no doubt some of her cravings would go unsatisfied. Still, in her present state, Aidan desperately needed to replenish her physical and emotional strength.
For a woman of her elevated station and breeding, Aidan was amazingly adept at fending for herself. Between her doting father and Monty’s tutelage, by an early age she had learned to be totally self-sufficient ... to the delight of her father and dismay of her mother. These skills would benefit her in the days to come. Out in the stables, Aidan mustered her strength and tended to Windy as Monty had taught her to do. With the sidesaddle strapped securely in place, Aidan mounted her sturdy steed and rode off toward the village.
