She was starting to realize what he had meant.
So, Elle sat while the woman combed and combed, food in both hands and gobbling it up as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Never in her life had she been exposed to so much food. She had no idea that such a thing was possible. She’d spent her entire life scraping by with the bare minimum, sleeping on the ground and eating things that other men killed or procured, and she’d truly had no idea that there was a world where food was plentiful. When she finished with everything on the tray, the innkeeper’s wife sent for more.
When Elle’s hair was mostly dry, the innkeeper’s wife neatly braided it and helped her into one of the shifts. Since Elle knew that the woman was missing a daughter, she let her fuss. Bess had been so genuinely kind that Elle didn’t have the heart to tell her to go away or that she no longer needed her. She let the woman neatly hang her clothing, touch her hair again, and then warm her bed with an old copper bed warmer. When Elle was finally finished with the additional food, she burped in gluttonous misery, which only seemed to please the woman. When Elle showed an interest toward getting into bed, Bess practically threw her into bed and tightly tucked her in.
After that, Elle was in bed to stay.
She only realized she had fallen asleep when she heard something in the chamber and startled herself awake to see Curtis moving around in the darkness. When he saw that he had awakened her, he paused regretfully in removing the daggers he’d been pulling from his belt.
“It’s me,” he whispered. “I’m sorry to have awoken you. I was trying to be quiet.”
Elle yawned and rubbed her eyes. “You did not wake me,” she said. “I have always been a light sleeper.”
He grunted softly as he continued to remove his things. “That is the life of a warrior,” he said. “I do not think I have had a solid night’s sleep since I was a lad.”
Lying on her side, Elle watched him as he proceeded to undress. “Having a bed this comfortable is rare,” she said. “It is like a warm embrace.”
He smiled faintly. “I know what you mean.”
He continued to undress, and it occurred to Elle why. The man was her husband, and this was their wedding night. At some point, he was going to get into bed with her, nude, and he was going to expect husbandly relations. Her stomach began to twist in knots at the mere thought of it, because the last man who had touched her intimately was Cadwalader. She could still feel his wrinkled, old hands on her body, disgusting her to the point of feeling ill.
But then something odd happened.
Curtis removed his tunic, and Elle could see his magnificent torso illuminated in the firelight. He had a beautifully muscular chest and arms, a trim torso, and broad shoulders. That was no wrinkly body. She watched him untie his breeches, but when he slid them off his hips and she got a look at his tight, bare buttocks, she quickly pulled the covers over her face. She was both embarrassed and titillated, a strange combination. She wanted to peek at him, but was too shy to do it. He continued tomove around the chamber, presumably nude, but she heard him come to a halt.
“Am I that appalling?” he asked.
She knew what he meant and could feel her face grow hot. “Why… why do you ask?”
“Because you have the coverlet pulled over your head.”
In the new spirit of honesty between them, she forced herself to answer truthfully. “I am unused to seeing a nude man,” she said. “Surely you can understand that.”
She heard his joints pop as he moved to the bed. Then he was pulling on the coverlet until her eyes were exposed. They popped open, and she found herself looking into his smiling face.
“You will never become accustomed to it if you refuse to look,” he said. “I am your husband. It is your right to look.”
He wouldn’t let her pull the coverlet up again, so she slapped a hand over her eyes, listening to him laugh low in his throat.
“Very well,” he said. “If I am so horrific that you do not wish to look at me, then I will not force you.”
She peeped through her fingers. “You are not horrific to look at,” she said. “It is simply… I am notusedto this!”
He chuckled again and turned away from her. “Very well, you coward,” he said. “Now that you’ve hurt my feelings, I’m going to climb into bed next to you and weep.”
Her hands came away from her face, and she sat up, watching him as he walked around the bed and got in on the other side. “Do not be offended,” she said. “My only experience with this was long ago and quite unhappy.”
He knew that. He pulled the coverlet over himself, settling down as he looked at her. “I can only change your mind if you let me,” he said, folding a big arm behind his head. “You were barely a woman back then. Now you are fully grown and fully lovely. And you belong to me.”
She looked at him seriously, thinking he looked awfully handsome lying there on the linens. It was enough to flutter her heart again, something he seemed to be able to do with little effort.
“Have you done this before?” she asked.
The warmth in his eyes flickered. “I have,” he said honestly. “Does that surprise you?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “Men do not go to their marriage bed a virgin.”
“There is a reason for that.”
