She liked the latter idea. There was no mistake about it. Bridget felt her lips curve up with enjoyment. She had never been very fond of the lectures given in church to wives. Strict instructions drilled into her every morning on the merits of obedience and submissive traits.

Why? Did not boldness breed strength? Whoever heard of choosing a docile mare to be covered by the strongest stallion? No. Never. When her father was home, he would go out and watch the mares to see which ones had fire in them. Only the ones that displayed courage and life would be allowed to breed with his prize stallions. The same held true across the estate, from prize-hunting hounds to the falcons. Strength was sought, not meekness.

Maybe that was the difference between men and women. The solid truth was that the two genders were very contrary to one other.

Curan’s face rose to the front of Bridget’s thoughts. It wasn’t the first time he’d invaded her bed. There was something about his features she liked to dwell on. He was a hard man with a body thick with muscle. Such was to be expected since he still rode alongside the Earl of Pemshire and then with the king. That was no place for soft courtiers. Each man was expected to wield his sword with a skilled hand and a strong arm. To do any less was a sure way to end up dead … Curan did not disappoint.

She suspected it was the reason her father had contracted with him. The border lords were men who took estates along Scotland’s border. It was an uncertain place. Many of England’s nobles had failed to keep their land secure against the clans that lay on the other side of that border. Curan was earning his land and title by holding an estate for England. When he had ridden into sight for their swearing ceremony, she had shivered. Every man following him was hardened, all in firm command of their warhorses.

She had felt that strength in the light touch of his fingers against her skin, a faint brushing of his fingertips across her cheek as he cupped her face for a kiss. She had trembled and studied his face in an attempt to discover if he was moved by her. Curan never complimented her hair or her eyes. Others had. Her hair was the lightest brown that turned copper in the sunlight, but he didn’t seem interested in it. He made no comment on her smooth, freckle-free complexion, either. The only thing that drew his dark eyes to her with interest had been the way she stared straight into his eyes as he bent to kiss her. She saw clearly a flicker of admiration before his lips made contact with hers, the hand on her cheek tightening ever so slightly while his mouth pressed against hers. Time had frozen—as still as the lake did in winter. She had been suspended in that moment, with his body looming over hers and his lips impossibly hot against her own. Even now she recalled it vividly.

Maybe too much so.

For certain she felt lust for him. Hidden behind her bed curtains, Bridget refused to be dishonest with herself. Out among the staff, tending to her father’s estate, was another matter. There were appearances to maintain. Here, she felt the heat over her cheekbones and the way it spread down her throat and across her chest. Wearing only a chemise beneath the bedcovers, she was aware of her nipples drawing into hard pebbles as though she were cold. Yet she knew that was not the cause. A flush of warmth spread along her skin, not startling any longer because she had become accustomed to it. Whenever she allowed her thoughts to dwell on Curan, her body responded.

For certain, it was a pity that she was not to wed him.


Marie kept her word.

Jane was not as composed when facing the prospect of leaving Bridget in the company of the woman when her intention was to take her away. Her mother stared at the courtesan, but Marie returned the look without wavering.

“There are things that words simply do not convey. Men take advantage of that in maidens. I only agreed to these lessons because I thought you wanted your daughter to avoid being led to her marriage like a blind child, as you most likely were.”

Jane scoffed. “That is a fact.”

Resentment edged Jane’s words. A little crack in the polished exterior she normally presented. But there was also a shimmer of victory in her eyes. The look she aimed at Bridget was full of achievement.

“Do not judge me too harshly, Bridget, but I would see you standing on firm feet when you meet this man who discards young wives. I cannot stop this marriage, but I can make sure you are not helpless. Learn to arouse your husband, and you shall conceive.”

Jane watched them as they walked down the steps to where two horses were held ready.

“You are very fortunate to have a mother who is so cunning,” Marie said.

“Cunning?”

Marie arched one slim eyebrow. “Oh, yes, Bridget. Your mother is cunning. I suspect your father has promised your groom a sheltered, country-raised virgin.”

“Will these lessons displease my husband?”

“Not if you are wise enough to give him the innocent looks he expects. It really is no deception; you are a maiden.” Marie offered her a smile. “Listen to me and you shall never regret losing your innocence.”

She kicked her horse, and the two rode away from the house. The countryside was still bright this morning, and their horses covered the distance quickly. Yet not so fast that Bridget didn’t have time to think herself almost to death. Anticipation held her in an iron grip, the idea of what was to come both teasing and tormenting her. Marie led her toward a smaller house that Bridget had seen before. Her father owned it, but no one had lived in it for some time. The dwelling was kept in good repair and cleaned in case someone important might come to visit. Marie lifted one gloved hand to her lips. The woman dismounted and tied her horse up a good hundred yards from the house.

“My client is inside. You will watch us but remain perfectly silent.”

Bridget bit her lip to avoid having her jaw drop once more. She was shocked, but she was also insanely curious about what exactly coupling looked like. From her mother’s description, the act was difficult to picture. Marie gripped Bridget’s hand and pulled her toward the house. They did not approach the main doorway but went toward the kitchen entrance. Marie led her up the back stairs and into the small doorway that was intended for a manservant. The opening led to a tiny room that was big enough only for a narrow bed on one side and a single chair and space for clothing on the other. A noble would expect his manservant to be able to hear him at any time. Such rooms were discreetly built alongside the master. There was no door but a carved wooden screen that formed a sight block, which was intended for the master, not the servant.

“Stay here and be silent.”

Marie entered the room next door and looked it over. Nothing escaped her notice, and she walked over to the bed to inspect it as well. The covers were turned down and violets sprinkled across the sheets.

She reached up and gave the cord that was attached to a bell in the kitchen a pull.

She unhooked her dress and stepped out of it. She moved faster today, but her actions still had a grace to them that was slightly hypnotic.

“I was getting tired of waiting.” A man entered the room, his expression surly, but that changed when he looked at Marie.

“Some things are worth waiting just a little bit for, Tomas.” Marie made it her business to learn the man’s name beforehand.

Marie arched that eyebrow once again. She fingered the tie that held her stays closed. Her cleavage swelled just above it, and when she pulled on the ties, it tightened the stays just a small amount, making her breasts plump up even more. Whoever her client was, he appreciated her efforts. His attention was drawn to her breasts, and his lips took on a slight curve.

“I hope so, this was a long ride.”

He was a large man with wide shoulders and long legs. There was nothing boyish about him, even if his face was shaved smooth. He reached up and unbuttoned his doublet with steady fingers and shrugged free of the open garment a moment later to face Marie in his shirt and britches.

“I can see you are anticipating something that would make your long ride worth it.” She moved toward him and reached up to cup his face. Bridget leaned closer to the screen and watched the courtesan boldly kiss her partner. He kissed her back, a long moment of their mouths slipping and sliding against one another. Marie broke away from the kiss and rubbed her hands down the man’s chest and farther until she rubbed over the bulge that was pushing his britches out.

“Ah, I seem to have discovered your motivation for seeking me out.”

Marie backed away from him, gaining a frown, but she lifted her hands to the tie of her corset and regained his full attention. She pulled the tie and the knot popped. The weight of her breasts immediately pulled the loosened lace through the eyelets.

“Now that is a fine sight.” His voice was turning raspy, and Marie trailed one fingertip over her own breast. His eyes followed her motions.

Bridget felt her throat constrict again. Never had she thought to watch such a thing. She forced herself to swallow. It wasn’t as if the man was going to touch her. Her virginity must remain intact. She took a deep breath; she wasn’t a child any longer and could not afford to be shocked by something she would be expected to do within a fortnight. Far better to know what to expect.

“Confidence is the key to enchanting a man …”

Marie’s words suddenly became more than another lesson. True understanding dawned on Bridget. It was something that only the look in Tomas’s eyes could have taught her. He watched Marie with absolute devotion as she shrugged out of her corset and set it aside.