Frustrated and puzzled, Regine quit the room in a huff. Embarrassed on behalf of her sister’s mouth and her friend’s invaded privacy, she turned hesitantly to Penelope.
“I am sorry, Pen,” she said softly. “You know she’s…. well, she simply doesn’t see anything wrong with what she does sometimes.”
Penelope was staring at the floor. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to meet Arissa’s gaze. “I suppose I should not be ashamed, truly. After all, Daniel and I plan on marrying. Some day.”
Emma was still on her knees by the tub of cooling water. Her soft blue eyes were wide. “Did he really touch you…. there?”
Penelope looked to the younger girl as Arissa gathered a coarse towel and began to dry herself. “Aye, he did,” she swallowed again. “I know that I should not have let him, but….”
“You do not have to explain yourself to us, Pen,” Arissa cut her short, forcing her embarrassed friend focus on the duty of drying her raven locks. “We know that you and Daniel love each other.”
Penelope vigorously toweled Arissa’s hair. “Certainly, I love him. I know he loves me, too, although he’s never truly told me.”
“Have you done anything else?” Emma asked, her voice small.
Penelope’s movements slowed. “I have not lost my maidenhood, if that’s what you mean.”
Arissa cast Emma a quelling look. Fortunately, Emma understood the implication and let the subject go. But she was still terribly curious and, in a sense, awed. Penelope was entering into the mysterious world of adult lust and she, too, wanted to know what it was like.
Richmond’s voice suddenly drifted in from the bailey, wafting through the lancet windows of the bower and penetrating the oiled cloth curtains. Arissa heard his voice and found herself staring at the covered windows even as Penelope directed her to sit by the weak flame of the hearth.
Hearing his voice reminded her of the previous day, the first day in months that they had seen one another. Memories of his arms around her as she cried, of his hands in her hair, filled her full of warm and giddy thoughts. And the way he had gazed into her eyes before Mossy interrupted them had been nothing short of astounding. If she did not know better, she would have sworn he wanted to kiss her. Or mayhap she had merely hoped their wants were the same.
Arissa was barely aware of Penelope’s ministrations as the young woman combed the drying black locks, moving woodenly when Emma secured her new surcoat. Her thoughts were focused on Richmond as she gazed at her reflection in the polished glass mirror, unnoticing of the delightful cleavage the dress managed to display. With her narrow waist and link belt, her breasts appeared even larger than their natural state and she took a second glance, forgetting Richmond for the moment as she tried to lessen the impact of her deliciously full assets.
Arissa did not like the attention they drew from men and women alike. She had developed at an early age, beginning hermenses before most girls even knew what the cycle meant. One morning she had awoken to the largest breasts she had ever seen; or, at least, she thought it was somewhat of an overnight occurrence. She remembered crying into her mother’s arms with embarrassment when she had overheard one of the serving wenches commenting on her ripe figure.
She never saw the serving wench again after that day. Rumor had it that the woman had been discharged and sent on her way. She had no way of knowing that Richmond had ordered the offending woman thrashed within an inch of her life and cast to the elements. A cruel punishment indeed, but there was nothing the Great Protector would not do for his charge.
Penelope fussed at her friend as she tugged at the magnificent surcoat, finally giving up and moving to style the raven-hued hair. As Arissa attempted to minimize her delicious assets, Penelope gathered the front of her hair and secured it within a silver clip at the back of her skull. Ebony tendrils of silken hair curled delicately about her face, framing her porcelain features.
But Arissa did not notice that, either. She was still fidgeting with the dress. “I look like I am harboring two overgrown melons underneath my surcoat,” she complained.
Penelope and Emma passed a critical eye over their friend. “Riss, if I were fortunate enough to possess a figure like you, I would display it often enough to offend God himself,” Penelope’s voice was laced with envy. “Why must you act as if it is a curse?”
Arissa ceased struggling against breasts that simply were not going to shrink. She stared at herself. “I am too short. I look like a troll.”
Emma shook her head and turned away. “You look like a goddess,” she moved for the door and summoned the serving wenches to take the copper tub away. When the women busied themselves with emptying the water and mopping up the floor,Emma turned to find Arissa and Penelope still gazing at Arissa’s reflection.
Emma put her hands on her hips. “Riss, you are perfect. Your breasts are round and ripe, your waist tiny, and your legs are shapely and beautiful. How can you see any differently?”
Arissa turned away from the mirror. “I just do, I guess. I am certainly not fishing for compliments from the two of you. What do I care what you magpies think?”
Outside, more shouts abound, announcing the approach of the first caravan of guests. One of the serving women had brought forth a bowl of porridge and a chunk of bread, but Arissa was too nervous to think of food. Her guests were arriving, people she was expected to greet, and her stomach was jumping madly.
“I must go,” she smoothed at her surcoat again. “Father demands that I greet my company. Are you sure I look presentable?”
Penelope and Emma smiled at her. “Beautiful, Riss. Men will be falling all over themselves in their attempt to capture your attention,” Emma said truthfully.
Arissa dared a small smile, quitting the room with her friends in tow. She was growing more excited with the prospect of her special day, thrilled to be mingling with people she hadn’t seen in months. The list of events that would comprise the day before the grand celebration that eve was enough activities to fill an entire week.
As Penelope and Emma left her to go and change into their own appropriate garments, Arissa descended the stairs alone. So she presented a beautiful picture, did she? Strange, she never considered herself beautiful. But if her friends’ words were truthful, if the men in attendance really would be trampling themselves in order to gain her attention, they were in for a rude awakening.
There was only one man whose attentions she yearned for. She wondered if Richmond would think she looked beautiful, too.
*
The first ofDecember had dawned amazingly bright and, in spite of the cool temperatures, promised to be a delightful day. A chill wind whipped the Lambourn banners in to a frenzy, blue and gold flapping madly on the battlements. Lambourn soldiers, their mail cleaned and their blue tunics fresh, paced their posts in vigilant preparation for the day.
