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Averill had learned from her father afterward that Kade had wished to have the wedding within the week, but he'd insisted on waiting at least two. Kade had apparently argued the point, but in the end had given in. He'd also agreed to everything her father wanted in the contract, then had taken himself out to the lists without even stopping to break his fast...and the man had been there ever since.
Oh, Averill supposed he must come in to sleep at night, but--if so--it must be very late, for she hadn't seen him within the keep walls since that day. In fact, neither Kade nor Will had turned up in the castle since then, not even for the meals. Averill had been sufficiently worried that she'd slipped down to the lists the first night to find out what that was about. What she'd found was that the men were taking their meals at the lists, the two of them barely stopping to gulp down the food before taking up their swords and hacking away at each other once more.
Averill had clucked and fussed and shaken her head, but she'd also found it very hard to drag herself away and back to the castle that first evening. She'd been unable to keep from haunting the lists since. She told herself it was just concern for her patient but knew that to be a lie, or she wouldn't have been taking such care not to be seen watching the men at practice. And the admiration she'd experienced as she noted the slow return of muscle and weight to Kade was far from that of someone caring for a patient. The truth was she was sneaking about, watching him with cow eyes like a callow youth with a tendre...and considering they were to be married, that just seemed ridiculous. In truth, the whole situation did.
It was not that she'd expected him to court her with pretty words and flowers, but she was taken aback by his complete avoidance of her. Averill had never been one to sit about daydreaming about wedding and having children, but had she imagined it, she would have expected there to be a little more interaction between a betrothed couple...and she was now worrying whether this was how the entirety of her married life would go--she in the keep and her husband in the bailey and never the two would meet...except in the marriage bed at night.
"Come now," Bess said suddenly, catching her arm to urge her out of bed. "You're sitting there looking like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. The bedding is not as bad as all that, and is over quickly."
"How quickly?" Averill asked with a frown as she allowed the woman to lead her to the tub, which two maids were filling with pails of steaming water.
"Well now, that depends on the man," Bess muttered.
Averill considered her words, and asked, "What exactly happens?"
The sudden stillness in the room was rather alarming. Bess had turned to stone, but so had the women working over her bath. Each of them exchanged glances with the others that seemed to exclude her.
Bess was the first to move. Letting her breath out on a whoosh, she moved to begin helping Averill out of her chemise, and muttered, "Don't you worry. He'll know what he's about and take care of everything."
"Oh, Bess." Old Ellie, the eldest of the maids filling her tub, scowled at the lady's maid. She then shook her head, tipped up the pail she held to dump the rest of its contents in the tub, and snapped, "You can't be leaving the girl completely ignorant."
"'Tis not my place to--" Bess began, but fell silent when Ellie dropped the bucket and straightened to glare at her, hands on hips.
"Well whose place is it then?" the old woman asked. "Her poor mother's dead, God rest her soul, and her father won't be explaining anything."
Averill could feel Bess's sigh ruffle the hair on the back of her head and glanced around to see her unhappy expression. Feeling sorry for causing her this discomfort, she cleared her throat, and murmured, "'Tis all right, Bess. I am sure you are right. 'Twill be fine."
"Nay, I'd best tell you," Bess said unhappily. "It might ease your mind to know what to expect."
"That or scare you silly," Sally, the younger of the two maids working at filling her bath, commented dryly as she emptied her own pail into the tub. She received a stern glare from Old Ellie for her trouble and rolled her eyes. "Well, it will no doubt sound awful in words," she pointed out, and then glanced to Averill, and added, "'Tis much nicer in the doing, my lady."
Recalling the night two weeks ago in Kade's room, Averill had no doubt that was true. It certainly had seemed nice to her, and she wouldn't have minded repeating the exercise in the weeks since. However, Kade apparently hadn't felt the same way.
Frowning over that thought, she asked, "Do all men like it?"
This brought a sudden round of laughter from the women.
"Oh, aye," Old Ellie told her dryly. "As a rule, there's nothing they like better."
"As a rule?" she asked. "Then some do not like it?"
This brought another exchange of glances and a few grimaces, then Old Ellie said, "There are one or two who seem to lack an interest, my lady. But they are a rare breed indeed."
Averill was frowning over this when Sally suddenly said, "They are rare, but I met one once. I couldn't get a rise out of him no matter what I tried and didn't know why till I saw the size of his...er...sword."
"Sword?" Averill asked uncertainly. "Do you mean his--"
"She means his piffle," Old Ellie interrupted, and then snatched up a linen that lay on one of 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 than her 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."
