Origins
CHAPTER SEVEN

It had been six months since Constance had dreamt about the landslide in the emerald mine and Agatha had taught her about the flowers and herbs that she used for her potions, ointments, and salves.

Constance had learnt about plants which had beneficial properties such as willow bark for pain relief; dandelion to treat indigestion and stiff bones; catnip for fevers and toothache; sunflowers to treat colds; lavender for headaches; rosemary oil for rashes, infections, and to improve people’s memories; and valerian root to help with sleep problems.

Also, which plants were poisonous, including deadly nightshade, dogwood, white snakeroot, and hemlock.

Constance spent hours during the day scouring the fields and woods for samples or bent over the table and stove, preparing lotions and extracts, as directed by Agatha, who seemed pleased with her progress.

Constance had learnt to read at quite an early age and, in the same way as her mother and grandmother had taught her, Agatha taught her how to read and translate other languages. And when Constance wasn’t running errands, or taking orders to her mother’s customers, she had her head in a book, studying.

Besides all of that, she made sure she had free time to spend with Hugh. Since their first encounter, he’d become an almost daily visitor to the cottage. In fact, he had quickly become invaluable to her and her mother and had repaired the roof, mended the well crank-handle, and added so many logs to their woodpile that they had enough fuel to last a good six months. In fact, if there was anything that required brute strength or a head for heights, they left it for him.

After the first couple of months, it became so common to see him with Constance that people stopped talking about it as if it was scandalous. Instead, they started saying that she hadn’t so much bewitched him, as made him her slave and the initial flurry of young women coming to Agatha for love potions, had been replaced by husbands or wives wanting an elixir to make their partner more amenable to household chores. She had never been in such demand.

When Agatha wasn’t there, Constance and Hugh spent time at the cottage, but when she was home, they typically went out. When it was wet, they traipsed through the woods, and when the weather improved, they more often than not walked in the meadows and copses that bordered the broad, meandering river, or strolled along the sand at low tide.

When Agatha asked what they found to talk about on their long walks, Constance would frown and say she couldn’t recall. But gradually her mother seemed to get used to the fact they were just friends and had stopped asking if Constance was sure that was all they were. But sometimes when they were around the cottage, Constance caught her looking at them quizzically out of the corner of her eye, as if she was doubting what she was seeing, or looking for a sign of something else.

One early summer day, Hugh had come around and collected her, and they’d taken a small picnic out with them. They’d decided to go for a long walk along the beach and they strolled down to the seafront, past the town and the Keep, and clambered down the path to the shore. They stood for a moment watching the fishing boats sail into the harbour and a newly launched Drakkar longboat being put through its paces.

“How many men can it hold?” Constance asked as they watched.

“About 4 or 5 knights and their entourage. It’s impressive, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure I’d enjoy being on board. I think the sea is a dark, brooding and unruly beast, and I’m not sure I’d like being tossed around like a stick, surrounded by miles of deep water.” She shivered at the thought, and he asked if she wanted his cloak. She shook her head.

“Have you been out to sea?” she asked.

“No, not yet, after all, there’s enough to occupy me on dry land…” he said and looked at her.

She felt her heart flutter and, blushing; she turned away. “Well, I think you’ve completed everything on our list of repairs so far, so we won’t be keeping you too busy from now on.”

He laughed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

They walked along the sandy beach in companionable silence. Now and then one of them would bend down to pick up a shell and show it to the other or grab an unusually flat pebble and see who could get the most bounces as they skimmed it over the calm sea. Hugh won, with ten hops across the water against Constance’s six.

It had become a warm morning and at midday it became too hot to walk, so they sat in the dry dunes to eat. Afterwards they lay back, with the sun beating down on them, and closed their eyes.

Constance had been dozing for about half an hour, when she sensed it darken through her closed eyelids. Worried that the weather had broken, she opened her eyes to find Hugh leaning over her. She couldn’t see his face. It was in shadow against the bright blue sky, but it was close to hers and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

“What’s up? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Something has been bothering me,” he whispered.

“What?” she asked and yawned.

“That little groove you get in between your eyebrows when you frown… do you mind?” He raised his hand, his thumb extended, and held it over her face. He didn’t move.

“What are you going to do?” She frowned.

“There it is!” he said, and reached down with his thumb and gently massaged her forehead.

It was as if someone had poured warm wax onto her. Her eyes went wide at his touch. She inhaled deeply, smelling the salt, the sea, and the scent of him. Constance quivered with nervous energy and felt a fire kindle deep inside her. She gasped. He was leaning towards her and, unable to resist, and before she could stop herself, she reached up, grabbed the back of his head, and pulled him down to her. She planted her lips on his and felt his arms grab her and roll her over and onto him. She couldn’t stop. The feel of his strong, protective arms around her made her melt, and she seemed to dissolve into the delicious sensations as they kissed.

She reached for him urgently, wantonly, hungrily. And he responded.

From that moment forward, they couldn’t get enough of each other and took every opportunity to be alone together. They went deep into the woods, up into the hills, anywhere without the risk of prying eyes discovering what they were doing. But their favourite place was the dunes where they had first made love. As the daylight stretched out with the summer and the weather improved, they seemed to spend hours there together. Sometimes they were unlucky and got drenched by the summer rain, but they didn’t mind.

She felt as if she was in heaven. The days seemed even brighter than the most glorious summer she could remember. The world smelled fresher, and food tasted richer and more rounded. She saw it all more clearly than she ever had before, and everything seemed so much more alive to her. The birds sang more sweetly, and the world was a glorious rush of sights, tastes, and smells.

But it was his touch and how he made her feel, from the pit of her stomach to the tips of her fingers and toes. That was the greatest revelation to her. She did not know that two people could make each other feel like that. Constance was so confident in their love; she thought that was it. They were meant to be together. Forever.

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