20th August 1103

Maire turned from the steaming basin as she heard the door to the kitchen creak open biting back her irritation. She had already burned herself on the cauldron heating the water over the fire and now it was going to go cold while she dealt with some guard who desperately needed a sandwich or something equally stupid.

But it wasn’t a guard. Reynard Hynde was slinking through the kitchen towards her like some marmalade Tom intent on marking his territory. She gulped, the taste of dried fish and coal fire in her mouth and crept towards him wiping her calloused hands anxiously on her stained apron.

“Hello there,” Reynard said in a low voice.

“Is there something yer wantin’ Goodman Hynde,” Maire asked meekly.

“Actually yes, but let’s not forget our manners first. How are yew today Mistress Maire,” Reynard said with a smile that didn’t quite make it to his dark eyes.

A trickle of sweat ran down the back of Maire’s neck.

“I’m being just fine, how about yerself?” she asked softly.

“Oh… yew know… I’m healing. I think I’ll end up looking like a patchwork quilt when it’s all done with.”

He gave a hollow laugh, his dark eyes gleaming in the flickering firelight.

“Oh, I’m being that sorry about that I am,” she blushed almost as red as her messy braids, “I did the best I could but I’m not being known fer the neatest stitch around.”

She wiped her hands again nervously on her apron remembering the poorly stitched patches there. But she had tried extra hard to do a good job of the man’s back, though the tattered flesh had made her want to retch.

“Oh no, yew did a fine job with what yew were given,” he smiled slowly at her.

She flinched as she unwittingly scraped the recent burn against the scratchy fabric of her dress.

“But Mistress Maire, are yew being hurt,” he gazed down at her arm and the red blotchy blisters that were beginning to rise there.

He gently took her hand in his and raised the arm to peer at it in the gloom.

“Aw it’s nothing, just a scald is all. I get ‘em all the time an’ they always go away in a few weeks,” her cheeks were hot as she snatched her hand from his grasp.

The kitchen had been stuffy and warm before he came but it was beginning to feel unbearably hot as her heart pounded and thudded in her chest.

“If only I could be helping yew as yew helped me,” he lips twitched up at the sides.

She felt ill, nausea roiling in her stomach as he stared down at her.

“But then, I didn’t owe yew a favour did I,” he smiled widely but his eyes were cold as dead coals.

She swallowed, a lump forming in her throat, trying to think of something to say but she didn’t have to because he filled the silence.

“An’ I’m thinking yer still owing me a few more,” he murmured and took her burnt arm in his hand.

Her breath caught in her throat as his thumb stroked the intact skin of her arm, barely skirting around the edge of the inflamed, blistered burn.

“What do yew want from me?” she whispered, her heart stuttering and galloping at his touch.

“Well, fer starters yew could let me kiss you,” he said softly, still stroking her arm.

She squealed as his thumb ran roughly over the burned patch. He released her arm and pulled her to him.

“I don’t think that’s being a very good idea,” she managed between chattering teeth, her whole body shaking against his.

“Shhh now,” his mouth was hot against her ear, “of course it is.”

And then he kissed her. His lips brushed hers lightly, then more insistently and though she kept her mouth champed tightly shut, somehow he managed to work his tongue inside. His mouth was hot and wet and she was growing dizzy with the heat in her body, with the scent of his sweat, with the boiling of her blood and the throbbing ache of her heart.

He leaned down toward her, holding her tightly and forcing her to follow so that she was hanging from his neck lest she fall onto the packed dirt floor.

All her weight was on one of his arms which was wrapped tightly around her waist and she never thought to worry after the other until a hand came sneaking up her chest. When he cupped one small breast in his strong farmers hand and squeezed she broke the embrace gasping for air, prying the hand away that was touching her where she knew it shouldn’t.

“No… don’t,” she managed between ragged breaths.

“Maybe next time then,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.