Page 94 of Viking in Love

“Hah! If ya have a good arse, yer man will tell ya so, believe you me. Arses are right up there with jiggly bosoms when it comes ta men and their appetites.”

“Since I have no man, it is a moot question.” Now, please, can we end this kind of talk?

“If ye say so. What you two been doin’ up there in the master’s bedchamber with the door locked? Dancin’?”

Breanne’s face heated. “Just because I might have been a little bit intimate with your master, does not mean he is my man.”

“Who ya tryin’ ta convince? Me or yerself?”

Changing the subject, Breanne asked, “Have you ever heard of the ‘Butterfly’ or ‘Row the Boat?’” Then immediately regretted her question.

“Huh?”

“They are supposedly sexual positions.”

“Oh, that! I prob’ly did, but gave it no name. I will tell ya one trick, though. One that drives a man wild in bed.”

Do I want a wild man in bed? Breanne waited for Amicia to continue, but she did not. “Tell me,” she finally demanded.

With a conspiratorial grin, Amicia told her how to use her inner female muscles—Who knew I had inner female muscles?—to clutch and unclutch a man’s member. “’Tis jist like what ya do when ya need ta piss but need ta hold it in. Practice and ya will soon see what I mean. Actually, I heard that in some of them Eastern harems, the houris…thass what they call the whores…practice with little marble wands inside them the size of a man’s middle finger. A candle works jist as well.”

And you would know that about candles…how? Nay, I cannot ask her that because she would probably tell me, in detail. “That is the most outrageous tale I have e’er heard.”

“I allus wanted ta be a lady. Mayhap I will be able ta latch onto some handsome knight and we will go off and live in his castle.”

Oh, my gods! “Uh, I am fairly certain that Lord Caedmon will be wanting you to return to your cooking duties once the archbishop is gone.”

“Should I curtsy when I meet the old buzzard?” Amicia proceeded to do the most demented bending of one knee down almost to the floor, which resulted in her head rail falling off and her almost toppling over, saved only by Breanne’s hold on her arm.

“Nay, a curtsy will not be necessary,” she said, “and do not refer to him as a buzzard, please.”

“Some monks are sodomites, ya know. That means they likes ta bugger men, not women.”

She bounces from one idea to another like water in hot grease. “I doubt there are any more sodomites in the priesthood than in regular society.”

“I rather like that young priest what will be stayin’ here at Larkspur.”

“Amicia! You are not to seduce a priest.”

Fortunately, or not so fortunately, Caedmon arrived then. To say he was startled by Amicia’s appearance would be a vast understatement. To give him credit, he managed to immediately mask his feelings of shock, followed by humor. Instead, he said, “How nice you look, Lady Amicia.”

Amicia beamed.

“I will escort you both to dinner. I must warn you, Archbishop Dunstan is not very fond of females.”

“See, I told ya. Sodomites,” Amicia said to Breanne.

“Whaaaat?” Caedmon looked as if he had swallowed his tongue.

“Nay, nay, nay! Archbishop Dunstan is not a sodomite, Amicia. And you must never repeat that again.” Lest we all end up in a dungeon somewhere…or skinned.

“What I started to say, Lady Amicia…and, Breanne, you must remember to refer to her in that way…is that Archbishop Dunstan has a warped view of religion in which women are to blame for just about everything wrong in the world. As a result, neither of you will be sitting at the high table.”

Which is just as well if he is going to insult us, Breanne thought. “As I told you before, Amicia…I mean, Lady Amicia…you and I should not speak at all, unless a direct question is asked of us.”

“Even then, do not volunteer any information,” Caedmon cautioned. “Try to appear meek, Amicia.”

Breanne snorted at that prospect.