The Heather and the Pine

August 18th, 185~

It has now been several days since I have seen Miss Charlotte, and I feel that I have to see her soon or burst with frustration. Other duties and two days of constant rain have I think kept her away, and when she did call, my own duties kept me apart from her. Work has kept me busy in any case - we are all doing a little more than before, on account of the Young Master's sickness - but still I find that I am constantly thinking of her, thinking of how close we stood together, remembering her touch on my feet and ankle and her fingers in my hair, wondering how her touch would feel on me elsewhere.

Mrs H caught me staring unseeingly into the soup this morning while I was thinking of Miss Charlotte, and scolded me. "Goodness, Martha, I should almost think you were love-sick, with all this pathetic sighing. If you can't be any use to me, get out from under my feet. The horses need seeing to and no-one else has time this morning." She bustled me out of her way.

The mention of feet gave me an unbidden thrill of pleasure at the memory of Miss Charlotte's hands on me, and I smiled at Mrs H. Perhaps I am indeed love-sick, for Miss Charlotte? Certainly I have not felt for anyone before quite what I feel for her, and it felt much as we're led to believe love feels for those who feel it normally. Alice and I were passionate friends, but not in love. I wonder if Miss Charlotte has ever been love-sick. (I had decided probably not, and certainly not for a kitchen maid! Which saddens me, even as it is still pleasant to think of her, even if she is not thinking of me.)

Such is the logic of the love-sick, I thought as I went out to the stable. I decided I liked the feeling of it, and was surprised how little it troubled me that I should be love-sick for a lady. Indeed, where it might be expected that I should feel shame or alarm, indeed recognising my feelings for what they are, I must confess, has made me feel better. On reflection, I am certain that being with Alice was good preparation in getting me used to this kink in my character. The logic of it also convinced me that any reasonable person would understand, if they met Miss Charlotte. (Although the strength of my feelings is still a little surprising!)

The gentle noises of the stable and the warmth and smell of the horses gave me confidence, and I began to tell them out loud of my feelings. I would talk to the animals back at home sometimes, and it was good to feel they were listening but not sitting in judgement, as humans would be wont to do.

And the tangles in the tail of one of the horses meant I had good exercise from brushing them out - a physical task I have always found comforting and pleasurable.

~

The sounds of a rider approaching the house made the other horses stir, and I poked my head out of the stable, but too late to see who it was. My heart beat faster at the thought of it being Miss Charlotte, but I could not stand there hoping and waiting, and besides it had started to rain lightly again. I had taken my cap off and did not want to get my hair wet. I went back to brushing the mare's tail, so was only half aware of the new arrival's horse being brought round to the stable.

"So, Martha. Banished to the stable block, eh?"

I whirled round, my heart leaping almost into my mouth. "Oh, Miss Charlotte!" In the surprise at being caught with my hair uncovered again, mixed with joy at seeing her and embarrassment at being found so hot and flushed from the brushing, I quite forgot my manners and lowly position and stared at her openly. She stared back, meeting my eyes with a smile, which did nothing to calm my beating heart!

"There's no need to grin and stare at me so, lassie." She moved forward, guiding her horse into a free stall and letting him attack the hay without tying him up, instead coming to me. She pulled off her gloves. "Though your smile is a very pretty one, right enough."

I flushed even hotter and looked down. "Sorry, miss. I was...not expecting you here."

"Hold these." She handed me her gloves, crop and cap, while she moved back to tie up her horse and remove his saddle. She slung the tack over the wooden side of the stall and returned to me. I made to hand her back her things and she made to take them, but did not, so that we stood there holding them together and holding hands too. The flesh of her hands was warm on mine.

I opened my mouth to speak, but did not know what I should say - and in any case my heart was beating far too hard for me to say anything.

"You're flushed," said Miss Charlotte softly, shifting her stance. It is possible also that I felt her tug me slightly towards her, but I cannot be sure. What I am sure of is that we suddenly seemed to be close together, close enough that I could feel the legs of her trousers brush my skirts and her hands press against my heaving chest where we still held her things between us. I could not take my eyes from hers, and she held my gaze so steadily.

"Yes, miss...I..." I could but whisper, and that may be why she seemed to lean in, to bring her face closer to mine. Her breath tickled my cheek and sent shivers down my back. "I've been brushing Misty's tail..." I made to indicate the silvery mare I'd been attending to, but felt one of her hands move from my breast up to my neck. I could scarcely breathe and I was lost in her eyes. "It was...so tangled..."

"I've missed you, Martha. These last few times when I have attended the boy." Gently, Miss Charlotte tipped my face up to meet hers and kissed me. It was a hot, soft, lingering kiss, full of promise, and I near fainted from pleasure.

~

I do not know how long the kiss lasted. But Miss Charlotte recovered quickly as she stepped back. "Sorry, Martha. I...I should not have..." She moved to take her things, but I caught her hand.

"Miss...I am glad you did." Her kiss had emboldened me. "May I say, I hadn't dare to hope for it, but I have wanted it..."

She looked at me hard, then leant in and kissed me again, quickly. More certainly. "So have I, Martha. Like I have wanted nothing for a long time." She moved back a step again. "I must go in, but I shall try to see you before I leave."

Alas, we were not able to be alone again. But now I dare hope that she is love-sick in the same way as me, which brings me great comfort. And joy. And I can still taste her mouth on mine.