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“I – I.” His manhood stiffened more, sticking up out of the water. There was no way he could tell her he didn’t want her now and have her believe it. Her hooded eyes lowered to the evidence of his arousal.
“I want to do this right for my future husband.” She dropped her skirt and braies, throwing them over the side of the tub toward the raging fire with a slosh of water. Standing in front of him naked as the day she was born, Bedivere thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life. Then she seemed to suddenly get shy under his perusal. Crossing her arms over her chest to hide her nakedness, the smile left her face and she glanced over at the hearth.
“You are beautiful,” he said in a breathy whisper. Shyly, she shifted her glance toward him and lowered herself down into the water. “You want this, don’t you?” he asked.
“Aye. I want to make love with ye and ken how it feels to be brought to completion. I want to feel sated and be able to satisfy ye, too.”
“But it’s not right, Morag. You are a virgin, are you not?”
“Aye. And I am also eight and ten years of age and afeared I will never experience what other lassies my age have already kent for years.”
“I don’t know, Morag.” His head told him not to couple with her but his heart told him to do it.
“Dinna ye want to make love with me?” she asked, putting up her protective wall by hiding her breasts with her arms.
“I do,” he said, reaching out and running his hand along the side of her face. “But I don’t want to do it until –”
“Until we’re married,” she finished his sentence for him. “It’s all right, Bedivere. We are betrothed and will be married within a week’s time.”
“But you don’t even know me,” he said, trying to start a conversation with her about who he really was.
“I was hopin’ to get to ken ye better. That’s why I’m here.”
“Morag, you need to know that I’m not who you think I am.” There, he said it. This should open up the conversation and he could tell her what he did for a living.
“I am no’ who ye think I am either.”
“You’re not?” He raised an eyebrow, wondering what she meant.
“I ken right now ye think I am a strumpet, but I assure ye that I am no’.”
“Nay, I don’t think that at all.”
“I am only actin’ this way because I’m afeared.”
“Afraid? I don’t understand,” he said.
“I’ve always been left out of everythin’ my entire life,” she told him.
“I didn’t know that.” His heart went out to her when he saw her brush away a tear with the back of her hand.
“My sister and cousins were chosen, but I wasna. They got crowns, but I didna. I wasna important enough, and they never wanted me around.”
“Chosen?” he asked curiously. “For what? And why do they have crowns?”
“I am sorry, but I canna tell ye.”
Bedivere shook his head and chuckled. “Morag, you make no sense.”
“I have some secrets, Bedivere. Secrets that I canna tell even ye.”
“Secrets,” he repeated, thinking this was the perfect time to come clean about his past. “We all have secrets, Morag. There is nothing wrong with that.”
She trembled and he pulled her closer to him to comfort her.
“But my secrets are big. And ye, who are about to be my husband, might no’ like them.”
“Why don’t you tell them to me?”
