The Hellion and the Highlander

  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."

  All the maids mumbled their agreement as they turned back to their work.

  Averill tended to agree with them. The man had shown a disturbing enjoyment of insulting her, and his hand when he'd grabbed her breast had been pinching, not soft and seeking like Kade's later was. Thoughts of that night reminded her of something else she wanted to know, and as Bess tested the water, nodded at the temperature, then urged her to step in, Averill asked, "Are your breasts supposed to tingle when he touches them?"

  The dead silence then lasted so long that Averill couldn't resist glancing up once she was settled in the water. All of them, even Old Ellie, looked discomfited, and they were all staring at her with wide eyes. However, when she glanced at them, they all turned to Bess, silently handing this one off to her.

  "How do you know about that?" Bess's voice was almost strangled.

  "I overheard one of the maids talking," she lied in a mutter, ducking her head.

  They all sighed, relaxing at the same moment.

  "Aye, well," Bess said at last. "I suppose if he does it right, and if you like it, they may tingle."

  "Oh Bess, you poor thing," Sally said sadly. "Have you truly never had the tingling?"

  Bess flushed and turned away to begin folding Averill's discarded chemise, obviously unwilling to respond.

  Averill bit her lip, feeling guilty that she'd caused the woman such discomfort. Bess had been married when she was younger to a man she often spoke of fondly and claimed had been fine and good. Obviously, his fine and good had not stretched to the bedroom. It had taken little more than a kiss and caress from Kade to make her tingle. Hoping to distract them from Bess and ease her discomfort, she cleared her throat and asked her next question. "What about the...er...the wet?"

  "The wet?" they asked as one.

  Averill flushed and grimaced, but really wanted to be sure it was normal. Kade had commented on it, after all. Clearing her throat again, she concentrated on dunking the small bit of linen Sally had used to make the imaginary piffle in the water, and said, "Between the legs. Is it normal to get wet there?"

  "That--You--How could you--?"

  "She overheard the maids talking," Sally answered for her, but there was a twinkle in her eye that suggested she, at least, was no longer fooled that that was the case.

  "Oh, of course," Bess muttered. She was silent for a moment, but then paused and looked to Ellie for help.

  The old woman rolled her eyes, but said, "'Tis natural. It greases the way for the sword to slide in your sheath."

  It seemed horses and stables wouldn't do for this explanation, Averill thought wryly, but merely nodded. So long as it was normal, she was happy. She'd worried it was unnatural or something. Now that she knew it wasn't, she relaxed a bit, and asked, "How do I please him?"

  Old Ellie had picked up her empty buckets, preparing to leave the room, but dropped them abruptly at the question and whirled back. Sally had only just bent to gather her own buckets, but paused, her shoulders shaking with what Averill suspected was silent mirth at her questions. Bess, however, was looking absolutely horrified.

  "Please him?" her maid asked weakly.

  "Aye, well, you said he would kiss and caress me. What am I to do to please him in return?" It did seem an important question for her to ask. Kade had made her gasp and moan with pleasure in his arms, and all she had done was hold on for dear life and writhe under his caresses. She wished to be a good wife and would like to please him as much as he pleased her.

  "Nothing," Bess said finally. "You just lie there."

  "That's all?" she asked doubtfully.

  Old Ellie clucked impatiently. "'Tis no wonder you've no children, Bess. You and Billy didn't have a clue what you were doing," the maid snapped. She then soothed the insult by adding, "You were both young, though, when you married, and not much older when he died."

  "They like it when you play with their piffle," Sally announced abruptly.

  "Play with it?" Averill asked uncertainly, an image rising up in her mind of dressing it up like a doll and--

  "Aye, especially with your mouth. They really like that," Sally said firmly, then added as an afterthought, "And some like their nipples tweaked."

  Not dressing it up like a doll then. Well that was a relief.

  "And they like compliments on their size while you do it," Sally assured her knowingly. "The more compliments the better."

  "What are you telling the poor girl?" Bess gasped in horror, and it seemed obvious that while the woman had been married, she wasn't nearly as experienced as the much younger Sally. It made Averill wonder if Bess had forsaken men after her husband. If he moved her as little as it was sounding, than she supposed she wasn't surprised.

  "Oh, leave off, Bess," Old Ellie said gently. "Sally is right. They do like it." She turned back to Averill to warn, "But some women don't like doing it, and a hand is just as good if you're of that ilk."

  Averill had no idea if she was of that ilk or not, she still wasn't entirely certain how she was supposed to play with his piffle with her mouth. She supposed Sally could mean in the same way that Kade had played his mouth over her breasts, suckling and nipping gently. Before she could ponder the possibility too deeply, Ellie continued.

  "What you do is grease your fingers up good and slick, then take him in hand and pump away at him like you're milking a cow," she announced, only to frown, and say, "Well, not really like milking a cow, but sort of. That should get him good and hard and ready to go."

  Averill nodded, her hand unconsciously closing around the linen she held and pumping it a bit. When the woman nodded, apparently done, then regathered her buckets and chivied Sally to leave, Averill murmured her thanks and gasped in surprise as Bess poured a bucket of tepid water over her head.

  "We'd best get you washed and out before your father sends Will looking for you. We've wasted so much time, the priest is probably here waiting on you."

  Wiping the water away from her eyes, Averill grimaced as Bess set to soaping and lathering her hair. She tried to relax, but now that the worry about the wedding night ahead had been dealt with--well, as much as it could be, she supposed--she was once again fretting over Kade's avoiding her the last two weeks and worrying that he really had changed his mind about marrying her. If so, she wasn't sure he would say so. He was good friends with her brother and wouldn't want to insult him by rejecting her, she feared. And he probably wouldn't repay her father's kindness like that either. However, she didn't wish to be married to him if he didn't want her anymore. Averill suspected it would be unbearable to be married to someone she liked so much and found so attractive, only to be completely ignored by him.

  She needed to talk to Kade.

  "The lass is taking her time," Kade said tensely as he shifted in his seat at the trestle table to glance toward the stairs once more in search of his errant bride.

  "She will come," Will said reassuringly. "No doubt she is fussing and making herself as pretty as she can for you."

  "Aye, but
'tis nearly the nooning," he complained. "How long does it take to make her pretty?"

  Will chuckled at his disgruntled words, but pointed out, "They will no doubt wash her hair, then have to brush it dry. 'Twill take some time."

  Kade grunted and glanced back to the cider on the table before him, thinking that it was either that or she had changed her mind and was unwilling to marry him. The thought made his mouth shift into a scowl.

  "You are hardly looking like a happy groom on his wedding day," Will said with amusement.

  "Most husbands are not happy on their wedding days," Kade pointed out. After all, most weddings were little more than contractual agreements between two families, a joining for money, or land, or some other profit. Kade almost envied the men who enjoyed such arrangements. At least they would not be sitting, wondering if the woman they had hankered for and dreamed of for the last two weeks had decided he wouldn't do and was even now climbing down from her window on a rope made of gowns so she might run away. Not that Averill would have to do that, he supposed. She could simply slip away through the tunnels as she had when she was five.

  He scowled at the thought and glanced to the stairs again, but there was no sign of her.

  "She would no doubt be surprised at such eagerness, considering you have not troubled even to speak to her in two weeks," Will said dryly.

  Kade grunted and began to toy with his mug. He was unwilling to tell the lass's brother that the only reason he'd avoided her was to ensure she arrived at her own wedding unsullied. Will would probably punch him did he know the indecent imaginings Kade had enjoyed since the night of Averill's visit to his room. Staying away from her and taking out his frustrations on Will in the lists had seemed the smartest route. It had also been rather beneficial. He was his old self again, filling out his clothes and almost back to full strength. Though it was not his own clothes he was filling. His had been lost in the sinking of the ship, and he'd apparently been dragged from the water in only the shirt he wore under his plaid. Kade had been wearing borrowed clothes since the first time he'd decided to get up from the bed; Will's clothes, in fact.