the chests nearby and dangled it before her skirt so Averill could not misunderstand.
Sally snorted. “Aye. Only his was more like this.” She picked up the bit of cloth Bess had brought up for Averill to use to wash herself, folded it four times and then rolled it up so it was no bigger thanher little finger and dangled that before her legs…except it did not dangle.
The maid shook her head sadly. “’Twas a shame that. A great, strapping fellow with the tiniest wee sword you ever did see. I think ’twas what put him off it. He was anxious about his lack in that area.”
“Foolish man,” Old Ellie said with disgust. “’Tis not the size that counts but what they do with it.”
“I don’t know about that,” Sally argued. “’Twas a wee thing.”
“Aye, and a knife is wee next to a sword, but can cut just as well,” Ellie said dryly. “Sometimes better.”
Averill was just pondering whether Kade might have been avoiding her because his own piffle was undersized, when Bess muttered, “Aye, well none of this is telling her what to expect tonight.”
Her maid straightened her shoulders like a soldier heading off to battle, and said, “When they decide ’tis time for the bedding, we women will bring you above stairs, strip you, bathe you, and put you in the bed. The men will then bring Lord Stewart up. They’ll strip him and put him in the bed as well, and no doubt take a good gander at you as they do, so prepare yourself for it.”
“They will put him in the bed without the bathing part?” Averill asked curiously, and wondered why when Bess nodded. She didn’t get to ask, however, as the woman was already rushing on, apparently eager to get the discussion over with.
“We will all leave, then he will…” She paused,licked her lips nervously, then cleared her throat and forged onward. “He’ll then probably kiss you, and…er…”
“Oh, good Lord,” Old Ellie muttered when Bess couldn’t seem to force herself to continue. “’Tis easy to tell you had no daughters to tell this to, Bessie.”
Bess flushed, then snapped, “Aye, well you’ve had enough of them. Why don’t you explain it to her since you’re so smart?”
Old Ellie harrumphed, but turned to Averill, and announced, “He’ll kiss you, squeeze ye here and there, then ride his horse into your stable.”
“Ride his horse…?” Averill echoed uncertainly.
“His sword,” Sally said helpfully.
“Oh,” Averill muttered, then, as she understood what her stable must be, “Oh!”
“Aye.” The women said as one, and apparently satisfied that they’d explained it, Bess returned to dragging the chemise up and over her head and the others turned back to filling the tub.
Averill scowled with dissatisfaction. The women really hadn’t been very helpful at all. Good Lord, she’d known the basics of what was coming. You couldn’t live in a castle with so many people all crowded together, a good portion of them procreating in any handy dark corner in the evenings, not to mention procreating and sleeping on the great-hall floor at night, without learning at least that much. Her ignorance lay in other areas.
“Does it hurt?”
The women all stopped and turned to her again, but were suddenly reluctant to talk, it seemed, for a full moment passed before Bess asked a bit irritably, “Where did you hear that?”
“I overheard a couple of maids talking about how it hurt,” she admitted.
Bess nodded grimly, but admitted, “It will hurt the first time, my lady. He has to breach the maiden’s veil, and ’twill hurt and bleed a bit. But it should be fine after that.”
“So long as he isn’t one of those who likes it rough,” Sally muttered with displeasure.
“Lord Stewart doesn’t strike me as one who likes it rough,” Old Ellie said solemnly. “But that Seawell fellow…now, he had a cruel streak. ’Tis glad I am it’s not him you’re marrying, my lady.”
All the maids mumbled their agreement as they turned
Sally snorted. “Aye. Only his was more like this.” She picked up the bit of cloth Bess had brought up for Averill to use to wash herself, folded it four times and then rolled it up so it was no bigger thanher little finger and dangled that before her legs…except it did not dangle.
The maid shook her head sadly. “’Twas a shame that. A great, strapping fellow with the tiniest wee sword you ever did see. I think ’twas what put him off it. He was anxious about his lack in that area.”
“Foolish man,” Old Ellie said with disgust. “’Tis not the size that counts but what they do with it.”
“I don’t know about that,” Sally argued. “’Twas a wee thing.”
“Aye, and a knife is wee next to a sword, but can cut just as well,” Ellie said dryly. “Sometimes better.”
Averill was just pondering whether Kade might have been avoiding her because his own piffle was undersized, when Bess muttered, “Aye, well none of this is telling her what to expect tonight.”
Her maid straightened her shoulders like a soldier heading off to battle, and said, “When they decide ’tis time for the bedding, we women will bring you above stairs, strip you, bathe you, and put you in the bed. The men will then bring Lord Stewart up. They’ll strip him and put him in the bed as well, and no doubt take a good gander at you as they do, so prepare yourself for it.”
“They will put him in the bed without the bathing part?” Averill asked curiously, and wondered why when Bess nodded. She didn’t get to ask, however, as the woman was already rushing on, apparently eager to get the discussion over with.
“We will all leave, then he will…” She paused,licked her lips nervously, then cleared her throat and forged onward. “He’ll then probably kiss you, and…er…”
“Oh, good Lord,” Old Ellie muttered when Bess couldn’t seem to force herself to continue. “’Tis easy to tell you had no daughters to tell this to, Bessie.”
Bess flushed, then snapped, “Aye, well you’ve had enough of them. Why don’t you explain it to her since you’re so smart?”
Old Ellie harrumphed, but turned to Averill, and announced, “He’ll kiss you, squeeze ye here and there, then ride his horse into your stable.”
“Ride his horse…?” Averill echoed uncertainly.
“His sword,” Sally said helpfully.
“Oh,” Averill muttered, then, as she understood what her stable must be, “Oh!”
“Aye.” The women said as one, and apparently satisfied that they’d explained it, Bess returned to dragging the chemise up and over her head and the others turned back to filling the tub.
Averill scowled with dissatisfaction. The women really hadn’t been very helpful at all. Good Lord, she’d known the basics of what was coming. You couldn’t live in a castle with so many people all crowded together, a good portion of them procreating in any handy dark corner in the evenings, not to mention procreating and sleeping on the great-hall floor at night, without learning at least that much. Her ignorance lay in other areas.
“Does it hurt?”
The women all stopped and turned to her again, but were suddenly reluctant to talk, it seemed, for a full moment passed before Bess asked a bit irritably, “Where did you hear that?”
“I overheard a couple of maids talking about how it hurt,” she admitted.
Bess nodded grimly, but admitted, “It will hurt the first time, my lady. He has to breach the maiden’s veil, and ’twill hurt and bleed a bit. But it should be fine after that.”
“So long as he isn’t one of those who likes it rough,” Sally muttered with displeasure.
“Lord Stewart doesn’t strike me as one who likes it rough,” Old Ellie said solemnly. “But that Seawell fellow…now, he had a cruel streak. ’Tis glad I am it’s not him you’re marrying, my lady.”
All the maids mumbled their agreement as they turned
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