I turn to Lady Rochford in the hopes that she’ll agree, or stay silent, but instead she answers, “I assure you, I’m dead inside.”
Well, that settles that. I give Francis’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze and steer him in the direction of the door. “I’ll let you know if we hear anything,” I tell his retreating form.
Once he’s gone, I turn back to an ill-tempered Lady Rochford and clap my hands together. “So today was eventful, huh?”
It takes a fair amount of time before she speaks again. “I won’t say it out loud, but you do know what I’m thinking, don’t you?”
“That you still miss Anne of Cleves?” I venture quietly.
Lady Rochford nods and closes her eyes. “I really, really do.”
Chapter Nineteen
Bessie makes a beautiful bride. In a pale blue embroidered gown and French hood, she’s the perfect fusion of live-action Cinderella and cartoon Cinderella. When I arrive at her wedding feast, I take both her hands and kiss her cheeks.
“Congratulations, Bessie.” I lean back to look at her, and when I do, I notice her nervous smile. “What’s the matter?” I ask. “You look stunning, and Richard is obsessed with you.”
“No, it is nothing like that,” she mumbles. “It’s just... I am worried about being a wife.”
“Marriage jitters are completely understandable. But I promise, you are going to be a wonderful wife.” I take a beat. “Unless you’re not telling me something about Richard. If he ever hurts you, just say the word and I’ll have him arrested. I have the power to do that, you know.”
“No!” She grabs at my wrists and pulls us over toward the side of the room. “It has nothing to do with him. I’m just nervous about tonight. The wedding night.”
“Ohhhh,” I answer slowly. “Which part are you nervous about?”
Bessie turns us so that our backs are facing the inside of the room, lowering her voice. “All of it. My mother said the act will hurt terribly, but I must endure it. She said to keep my eyes shut and not to scream or God won’t see fit to give me a baby.”
Loss of virginity, terror, and religious guilt—an infallible trifecta.
“I see. And by any chance, do you know how it physically happens when God gives you a baby? Maybe from a medical standpoint?” Pretty please say yes.
“Not entirely,” Bessie answers, “but a maid at my family’s estate once told me that the motions are similar to a strange bunny hopping in and out of its hole. She also said that the first time it happens, it will feel as if I’m being stabbed in my unmentionables.”
Oh, my sweet sister in Christ.
“Right. So, I think it’s very important that we go at your pace with this conversation. You tell me exactly how much you want to know about what goes on in a sexual relationship and that’s what I’ll tell you.”
Bessie’s eyes bulge. I forgot that queens of England aren’t usually sex-positive psychologists.
“How much am I supposed to know?” she asks, a little panicked. “How much did you know before you... married the king?”
It’s safe to say that we’re both aware that my wedding night with Henry wasn’t my first sexual encounter. But I also can’t tell her that I lost my V-card at a prom after-party my senior year of high school.
“I think I knew slightly more than you do now.”
“Please, tell me,” Bessie pleads. “If I know what’s going to happen tonight, at least I can prepare myself.”
Explaining the birds and the bees to Bessie at her wedding venue certainly wasn’t on my bingo card today, but what in my life ever is? Ten minutes later, we’re in a secluded side room, sitting in two parallel chairs, and my innocent friend is looking at me like she’s just seen a ghost. A horrifying ghost with a very big boner.
“But...” she stutters, “but I’m sure that’s not physically possible. It’s mortifying! I can’t let him do that to me!”
I lean forward in my chair, keeping my voice smooth and calm. “But that’s the thing—it doesn’t have to behimdoing that toyou. You should be an active participant. Sex can be an extremely enjoyable act that you and Richard do together to express yourselves. At some point, you might even want to do it every day.”
“Every day?” she asks disbelievingly. “You are mad! How could what you described ever be enjoyable? You said he’s going to... enter me.”
I move my head from side to side. “That’s part of the logistics, yes, but the entering bit can be a fun process if you both go about it the right way.”
Bessie leans in as well now. “How do you mean?”
