The blacksmith's wife [part 34]
Gabriel’s ever-fluctuating sense of filiality returned him to accusative.
‘Your callous immorality shocks me,’ he complained, days after he’d willingly posted his limp and green-shit-leaking brother through the side-slats of the dead-dog cart while I shielded him by offering soup to its malodorous driver.
My own concerns were several: I was with child to a man I’d wed most willingly but now wondered if I should have second thoughts; the Earl was like to demand both letters and retribution for my alleged releasing of Mathias, and now approaching with a needing-shod stallion was the speedwell-eyed youth I’d once lain with.
The blacksmith's wife [part 33]
Post his immoral interlude with the tavern-doxy, how would Gabriel now view my past philanderings? Given that he’d also seen me taken by his brother, he surely couldn’t now complain?
The boy was beautiful, which was why I’d wanted him. Finger to my lips I directed him to the meadow behind the forge, trusting that the meadowsweet would shield us.
Led the horse to Gabriel, smiled sweet and said ‘No hurry.’
But I was mistook to think that all was fair, that because there was no danger of foisting onto Gabriel a bastard brat, he would not mind.
He did.
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