Adam Mellors's Story

This time of year, Adam was used to waking in absolute darkness. It took him a moment to identify the otherworldly half-light that glowed dimly in the window of his cottage. He never drew the curtains, preferring to wake and sleep with the world's natural rhythms. Pre-dawn light on a blanket of snow, he realised as he swung his feet onto the cold stone floor. So the flurry that had fallen on his walk home from the village had settled, thickened. There would be no gallop for the horses today.

The cottage had retained some of the warmth from last night's fire. Indeed, Adam could see a dull orange glow in the hearth, earthy, almost malevolent, in the ghostly silver coming in the window. His head a little muggy from the night before, Adam dragged open the front door and flung his naked, sinewy body into the nearest drift. He gasped as shock coursed through his body; his blood pounded, electrified, and he sucked in lungfuls of cold, fresh air. Hangover gone.

"Shut that bloody door, you bloody Taff maniac," came a muffled yell. Browne, the veteran stablemaster, wouldn't drag his bulk from his bed for a few hours yet. Flakes of snow still clinging to the wiry hair on his legs, groin and torso, Adam dragged on his work trousers, a clean undershirt, a rough woollen jumper, and hardy workboots. "Warm up that water before you give it the beasts," Browne grunted at him as he left. "And get that Chinee to bring me some grub."

Browne could wait for his breakfast. Adam didn't like the way he spoke about Sayuri. For a start, he was almost sure the pretty little maid wasn't Chinese. Somewhere in the Orient, for sure, but Chef had mentioned it and it wasn't China. Besides, 'Chinee' didn't seem like a nice thing to say. She seemed a little too meek and gentle to be fully to Adam's tastes - not like Betty, the village publican's daughter, who'd sat on his knee by the roaring fire last night - but her mysterious half-smile and shadowy eyes were intriguing. But indoor and outdoor staff didn't cross each other's paths much.

And besides, thought Adam as he pushed open the stable door and inhaled the warm musk of the horses, there was another filly on the estate he'd much rather saddle and ride, though it would get him whipped all the way back to Wales. The heavy snowfall meant the lords and ladies would most likely be sequestered inside all day, reading their letters and playing their games. But maybe they'd brave a small walk to the stables. Maybe the Lady Josephine would shake her headstrong locks at her stern but embattled father and come to the stables alone to see her favourite animal. Adam flashed a dark, sharp-toothed grin in the gloom of the stable.

"Harry, me boyo," he called out to the stableboy, and a startled horse whickered in its stall. "Come on, up about ya!" The boy's tousled head popped out from the loft, a clump of straw sticking out wildly. "Has Jack the fire lit? Ah, good lad. Now go on, get out there and help him." Adam grinned as the younger stableboy scampered down the ladder and out to the stone outhouse attached to the stable. Both boys had lost their fathers in the Great War; Lord Courtney-Hale had shown great foresight in taking them in, Adam thought. They could earn a living for their families, saving them from the poor house, and the two boys would still learn from the company of men. He'd already had to warn Jack, the elder by two years: "You plant that stalk in a girl's garden, she'll grow you a big surprise." The boy had blushed a deep red, then his eyes had grown wide in surprise when Adam continued: "And you bring it out near the high-born ladies, they'll snip it right off ya!"

Adam fervently hoped this wasn't the case, at least not with the ladies. The Lord of the house, and his eldest son, would probably try it, but Adam knew he would still risk it. He liked all kinds of women - big ones, small ones, old and young, and not just for their bodies but also for their company, their knowing amusement at the follies of men, their different ways - this one, well, she was beginning to trouble his sleep. She wasn't just ladylike, she was almost lordly in her bearing. She had a power and a confidence Adam found almost overwhelming. He felt like getting down on his knees and worshipping her, in more ways than one.