That night, Essien was the first one to be pinched by a naughty blonde with an impish grin.
*
It was coldon this evening, a dusting of brilliant stars spread across the heavens as Corisande moved quickly beneath that dark sky, heading towards the stables.
She had a particular purpose in mind.
The stables of The Keld were quite old. In fact, a portion of them belonged to the bones of an even older building, for there had been Romans in this location at one time and Castle Keld had been built over the ruins.
Someone told her once that the stalls where the horses were housed had, at one time, been small sleeping cells for the Roman soldiers. When the castle was built by a de Bourne ancestor, the building that contained the cells was incorporated into the stables. There were also two enormous stone troughs left by the Romans that were used by the livestock.
One particular trough was Corisande’s destination.
This trough was nestled deep in the earth near the stalls and was fed by a natural spring. There was a type of moss that grew on the north side of the trough and it was that growth that Corisande was looking for. It was a very old moss and it had some kind of medicinal quality to it because she had used it many times to help alleviate swelling and poison in wounds. It was hairy, and had a sort of bluish-green cast to it, but whatever it was worked very well in helping heal the sick.
As Corisande entered the stables, she paused to light an oil lamp. It was quite dark in the stables at this time of night and she needed some light by which to see, so she collected an oil lamp used by the stable servants that had the flame mostly covered. An open flame in a stable was a recipe for disaster, so she lit it carefully.
With a little lamp burning weakly against the darkness, Corisande made her way to the end of the stone stable where the old, chipped trough was half-buried in the ground. Holding the lamp aloft so she could get a better view, she knelt down to inspect the northern part of the trough where the bluish-green moss grew. There was quite a bit of it and she began pulling it off, collecting a goodly handful of it.
“So this is where you went.”
Startled by the voice, Corisande looked up to see Cole entering the stable. On her knees, bent over the mossy trough, she straightened up to face him.
“Were you looking for me?” she asked. “I apologize if you had to hunt me down, but there is a soldier with an infected boil and as strange as it sounds, the moss on this trough is known to cure skin wounds. I must tend to the man.”
He put up his hands because she sounded apologetic that she’d left the hall to do what was clearly a more important duty.
“There is no need for apologies, my lady, truly,” he said, coming closer. “I was not looking for you. I came to see to my horse, who seemed to have an odd gait today. I wanted to see if he has developed a lameness, so the fact that you are here is purely coincidental.”
That was a lie. An utter, complete lie. Cole had seen her leave the hall and he’d followed. He’d spent the entire evening listening to Alastor when his mind was really on the man’s daughter as she hovered on the fringes of the great hall, making sure the meal ran smoothly. He kept wishing she would come and sit at the dais, but she didn’t. Instead, she had departed the hall and a younger girl with similar features joined the table, but she seemed to be quite interested in Essien, much to the man’s horror.
But Cole didn’t have time to laugh about it.
He was focused on the lovely Lady Corisande.
When she left, he left, using the same excuse he’d just given her to relieve himself of the table. God only knew why he had followed her. He still didn’t know. All he knew was that after their brief conversation earlier that day, she was lingering in his thoughts, subtly but unmistakably.
Curiosity, more than anything, had brought him into the stable.
He was wondering why she fascinated him so.
But Corisande didn’t seem to suspect anything was amiss with his weak excuse. At least, he thought it was weak. To makeit appear stronger, he headed over to the stall where his fat, black stallion was tethered, contentedly dozing.
“I am sorry to hear about your horse,” she said as he went to the stall. “I could make a mustard plaster for the leg if you think it would help.”
Cole slapped the beast on the rump, pretending to eye the hind legs. “That is kind of you,” he said. “Is healing animals among your talents, too?”
Moss in one hand and lamp in the other, Corisande wandered over to the stall. “My mother was a great healer,” she said. “Her knowledge in herbs and medicines was unsurpassed. She taught me what she could, so I know a little something about healing men and animals.”
“And you enjoy it?”
She looked at him as if surprised by the question. “I do,” she said. “There is something satisfying about helping a man regain his health. Or helping a horse with a lame leg.”
She smiled as she said it and Cole smiled in return. “And it will be greatly appreciated,” he said, thinking he should probably look like he was examining the legs, so he bent over and began feeling carefully around the fetlocks. “I’ve not met many women with a talent for healing. In fact, I cannot recall one. Usually it is a man’s profession unless the woman is a midwife. I assume you do that, too?”
Corisande watched him gently squeeze the legs of the horse. “I have delivered two babies in my life,” she said. “Midwifery is an exacting profession and, frankly, not something I prefer. For an unmarried young woman, it is a little unseemly.”
He glanced at her. “That is the most shocking statement I have heard today, in a day of many shocking events.”
