"Jean was the son of Henri Boudreau, a sergeant-at-arms for my fatherand head of the castle guard. He was often away on business for myfather, checkin... on the outlying areas to make sure the peasants werecontented, yes, and their safety. Jean's mother had died in childbirthwhen he was small and Henri had not remarried.There was a sudden blast of a warning trumpet from the battlements. Myfather looked up, startled. "What is it?" he shouted to the sentry.The sentry called down." It is a rider, my. I remembered Brigid too and what we had done in bed that night and next morning, the three of us. My member tingled and my back spasmed."Now, we're moving on and they need to go home, back to western Massachusetts. Crossing the Hudson's the only tricky part, but Suzanne knows the best ferries, up near the Tappan Zee, don't you dear?"The young woman nodded and licked her soft lips. "I can hardly wait to get back to my own bed," she said, holding my gaze with her dark eyes and taking another deep. More

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