Ragnar looked to the door, where he knew three pairs of ears were probably pressed up against the wood, then back at her.
His stomach sank. “Now we have a different problem.”
“What problem?”
He gestured toward the door. “Those men out there, they’re nae just waitin’ fer bloodied sheets.”
She stared at him blankly.
“They’ll belistenin’, Isolda.” He studied her carefully. “Fer proof that we’re… that the marriage is bein’ consummated.”
She frowned. “Listenin’ ferwhat?”
“Fer sounds… fer…” he scrubbed his hand over his face. “When a man and a woman lay taegether, ‘tis nae silent. The bed creaks, and there are… other noises.”
“Ye’re goin’ tae have tae be more specific.” her voice came out steady, but small.
Ragnar moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Come here.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”
“Because I’m nae explainin’ this while ye’re standin’ all the way over there, lookin’ ready tae bolt through the window. And where I need tae speak loud enough that they can hear me!”
Isolda approached the bed as if it might bite her and then perched on the very edge, as far away from him as possible.
“Closer, lass.”
“I’m close enough?—”
“If ye fart ye’ll fall of the edge.”
She glared at him but shifted closer. “There. Happy now?”
Despite everything, his mouth twitched.“Now, listen carefully. When ‘tis done properly, the woman… she makes… sounds.”
Isolda’s face when scarlet. “What kind of sounds?”
“The kind that let a man ken he’s daein’ things right.” Ragnar kept his voice practical, even though explaining this to his virgin bride on their wedding night was possibly the strangest conversation of his entire life. “Her breathin’ gets faster. And she might gasp. Moan. Or say things.”
“Like what?”
“The man’s name, usually. Or words of encouragement.” The blank look in her eyes made him grunt softly. “Things like… ‘och, aye’ and ‘dinnae stop’ and…” he trailed off as her eyes went impossibly wide. “The point is, if those men hear naethin’ but silence, they’ll ken somethin’s amiss.”
“So we need tae…” she gestured helplessly between them.
“Pretend we’re daein’ it, aye.” Heat crept up his neck. “If we dinnae then they’ll demand tae be in the room.”
“But I’ve never—” she looked down at her hands. “Claricia and Ada explained about the joinin’ and sheets, but they didnae mention anythin’ about… sounds.”
“That’s because,” He turned to face her fully. “When a man takes his time, when he learns what the woman likes, how her body responds—when he touches her certain ways,that’swhen she makes those sounds. Because the pleasure’s too intense tae keep quiet.”
She stared at him, lips parted, pulse fluttering at her throat.
“But taenight,” he added firmly, “ye’ll just be pretendin’. Think ye can manage?”
She nodded.
“Good.” He stood and moved to the middle of the bed frame. “Let’s get this over with, then.”
