Page 55 of Katherine the Vixen

“All right, I need to go,” she said almost to herself.

Annette walked her back as far as the other side of the forest, her arm entwined with hers. A year younger than her, her sister had always shared her every secret. Until now. Siaspar, whom Annette had never even met, loomed between them like a ghost.

It felt wrong but necessary. No one would understand what was happening. Katherine wasn’t sure she did either.

“So, how have you been?” she asked to try and get over the discomfort.

“Well enough… Jack, the baker’s son, offered for my hand the other week,” Annette told her shyly.

“Oh, that is wonderful news!” The two of them had just started courting when she had left for Wales and Katherine had had no idea that things had progressed so much between them. There had been no mention of it in the letter she’d received a few weeks ago. Was that cause for worry? As the eldest, she felt very protective of her siblings. Was Annette rushing into this union? “This is very fast, though, is it not?”

“Yes, I know but…”

“But?”

“Well…he is impatient to bed me. I would not allow him to do so before we are properly married, you see, and he agreed to wait, so…”

“I see,” Katherine said with a smile. This would explain the rush, and it was clear from the color on her sister’s cheeks that she was not being coerced in any way. The future bride was just as impatient as the future groom to consummate the marriage— which was just as it should be in a happy union.

In that way, at least, villagers were better served than noblemen. They were usually free to choose their spouses.

“There is one thing…” Annette lowered her voice to ask the question. The two sisters had always been very honest with each other but apparently, this promised to be intimate. “I don’t suppose you know if the pain will be very awful?”

“I cannot tell you, as I am not married either.” Katherine had no other choice but to pretend she was still untouched. Telling anyone what had happened on Siaspar’s wedding night was unthinkable and she’d already concluded she would have to keep silent about it. “But I imagine that Jack loves you very much?”

“Yes. And I confess I find myself dreaming about being in his arms,” Annette whispered. “I know it is very wicked of me but I cannot help it.”

“Don’t be ashamed. You have chosen him to be your husband, so it is only natural that you should want to be with him in that way. Anything different would be worrying, I think.” She gave her sister a pat on the hand. “Worry not, if he loves you, I’m sure he will be gentle with you. Even if the first time is supposed to be uncomfortable it will surely improve with time.”

Yes. It will improve. Your man’s caresses will make all the air leave your lungs and every muscle in your body contract with pleasure. It will be the most bewildering, delicious thing you’ve ever felt.

“Thank you, sister.” Annette gave her hand a squeeze. “I knew you wouldn’t think less of me for wanting⁠—”

“I don’t. And I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”

Suddenly Katherine wished she, too, was about to marry the man of her dreams. Her heart constricted in her chest. Such a thing would never happen, considering that the man of her dreams was a lord living in a distant land, and married already. She might as well wish to marry the future king of England.

“What about you, have you found yourself a sweetheart in Wales?” Annette had seemed to read her mind. “Or are the men there as rugged and unrefined as everyone says?”

“Not at all,” Katherine said firmly. In fact, everyone she had met there had been either exceptionally cultured and patient—poor Master Owain came to mind—or loyal and good-natured like Gwyn the squire and Cadell, Siaspar’s foster brother. Then, of course, there was Siaspar himself. Men did not come more perfect than him. “Don’t believe everything you hear. Gilbert the cooper is the most foulmouthed, coarse individual anyone has ever met and yet he is not Welsh, is he?”

Annette giggled. “No. He’s as English as they come. But you did not answer my first question. Have you met anyone?”

Katherine should have known that her diversion would not work.

“No, I have not,” she said, doing her best to sound convincing. It was a lie but how could she tell her sister that the only man she entertained ideas about was her lord and master?

“Good, because Walter is always asking after you. I think he is hoping to offer for your hand when you finally come back to live⁠—”

“No, don’t tell him I’m here!” Katherine cried out, taking her sister’s arm in her panic. “I cannot… I do not want to marry him.”

Annette was taken back by the sudden outburst. She stopped, making Katherine stop in turn.

“Why, what happened? I thought you cared for him.”

“I did. I do, but not in that way.” The miller’s son was more like a brother to her. Every time he had jested that they should get married one day, she had brushed him away, knowing in her heart of hearts that she did not want to be his wife, despite the fact that everyone seemed to have married the two of them off already. Now she wanted it less than ever. Walter was little more than a boy and it was impossible to imagine herself in his arms, being touched in the way Siaspar had touched her. “I will not marry him.”

“Well. I thought you would be happy to leave an employ you never wanted and come back to your village,” Annette commented slowly. “But that was before I saw how grand you had become. Now you seem to prefer⁠—”