Her Wicked Sin by Sarah Ballance

said.
    Henry rolled flat on his back and sighed. “Willard’s feed is due this morn. The merchant is an early riser, it seems.”
    “I will see to the delivery,” said Lydia.
    “Worry not. I need to inspect the wares.” Henry removed his covers and stood, bending lightly in test of his knees.
    “But your injuries…” Lydia should have paid every attention to his assessment of his damage, but found herself far more interested in the appendage lobbing heavily between his legs. Oh, the pleasures he had provided her!
    “Still sore, but I will manage,” he said, drawing her attention toward his face.
    “I am pleased for your recovery,” she managed to say despite her rising embarrassment. “The activity must have served you well.”
    “Indeed it did,” he said. “And I have a gift for you outside, so join me when you are ready.” He stepped carefully into his breeches, but pulled on the rest of his clothing with ease.
    “A gift? Whatever could it be?”
    Henry’s smile assured her he would not tell, so she made haste in dressing and was a mere dozen steps behind him when she stepped outside.
    “Good morrow!” called their guest, whom Henry quickly drew into conversation.
    Lydia raised a hand in greeting, but remained on the porch. Though Henry had requested her presence, she did not want to interfere in his business with the merchant. Besides, she found herself enthralled with the resplendent creature whickering to Willard over the fence. The visiting horse was nowhere near as stunning as Henry’s mount, but striking in his own right with dark mahogany coloring his neck and body. All four legs were coal black, as were his mane and tail, while a perfect splotch of a white star marking peeked from beneath his forelock. Aside his interest in Willard, the horse stood quietly harnessed to a wagon loaded with bagged grain and saw boards.
    Henry nodded to the merchant and took a step back as the man walked to untie a second horse from the back of the wagon. He secured the animal’s lead to a nearby tree, then climbed to the wagon bench and told the horse to walk on. The pair made a wide circle around Henry, then turned and circled the other way before drawing to a halt. Then the merchant jumped to the ground and he and Henry shook hands.
    Lydia, unable to hear their conversation, grew more curious by the passing moment. Finally the man clasped Henry’s shoulder in a parting gesture and retrieved the horse tied to the tree. He mounted and, turning the horse in a tight circle, gave a short wave.
    “Fare thee well, Goodwife,” he said to her. Before she could respond, he gave the horse leg and headed off at a trot down the road toward town.
    Puzzled, she turned to Henry. “Whatever have you done?”
    Grinning, he met her with only a small limp in his stride. Taking her hand, he pulled her to where the bay stood hitched to the wagon. “What do you think of him?”
    “He is quite handsome,” she said, patting his soft muzzle.
    “And he is yours,” Henry said with a smile stretched ear to ear.
    She gasped. “Mine?”
    “If you approve. I requested a steady mount, and though I have not seen him tried by a rider, he drives well and appears sound. If he is too much for your hand, we can trade for a while so I may teach your horse his manners.”
    “I know not what to say, Henry. This is too much!”
    “Say nothing but yes, my love. And the wagon, too, is ours. I will repair the fencing today and secure the shed for the grain, and by this eve we will worry for nothing but our own stamina.”
    He finished with a wink that had her again flushing hot. “You are an obstinate man,” she said with humor.
    Henry turned so she faced not the horse but the man. With his hands around her waist, he drew her until they pressed tightly as one. “Surely,” he said, “you do not protest.”
    “I do not,” she agreed. “But I must get to Goody Bradshaw’s house to help with the bread. Will you be okay here on your own