“The subject of seduction.”
Bridget turned a curious look on her mother. “You have already taught me what to expect in my marriage bed.” Jane had seen to that task the night that she and Curan had knelt in the family chapel to swear to one another. She was practically a wife after such; the only detail lacking was a bedding. Curan had said that he would not claim her until his last duty to the king was served. It was not an uncommon arrangement. Negotiations for a wedding between noble families often took many years, often difficult to time exactly. A “pledge to marry” ceremony often took place when the families reached agreement but the knight still owed service. Moreover, such a ceremony was expected to be honored by both families, drawing its strength from the codes of chivalry. But it was a truth that legally her father could wed her to another. She had simply never considered that her sire might break with the knightly code of conduct.
“What you have not been taught is how to please a man.” Bridget’s mother flushed slightly, but she didn’t appear uncomfortable. The stain on her cheeks was paired with a flicker of enjoyment in her eyes. “Since the men of this country have become so greedy, taking numerous wives whenever the whim consumes them, I believe it is time we women employ a few tactics of our own to ensure our futures.”
Jane looked at Marie. “I will trust you to teach my daughter everything she needs to know about stealing a man’s wits in bed. I shall be in the outer chamber making sure you are not disturbed.”
A slow smile curved Marie’s lips as Bridget watched. Something very intriguing swept over the courtesan; a confidence seemed to radiate from her.
“We shall begin with how to disrobe.” Marie strode into the center of the chamber. Her eyes took on a slightly slanted appearance. “Men can be slaves to their lust. They are greedy like children looking for sweets. Learn to control that appetite and you shall master the man.”
She turned in a graceful flare of skirts. “Always make him watch you. Do not give in to his demands to rush. Once he is spent between your thighs, your power over him recedes.”
Marie paused with her back to Bridget. She peeked over her shoulder in a gesture that was both teasing and naughty. Her eyes were half closed, the lashes veiling her deepest thoughts. Bridget heard the popping sounds of the hooks opening on the front of Marie’s bodice. That sound sent a little heat racing into Bridget’s cheeks. Hearing it, yet being prevented from seeing the opening of the garment, sent her mind racing with ideas. Marie laughed. Low and sultry, the sound floated over her shoulder.
“You understand, don’t you, Bridget? The idea of what I am doing is more powerful than the act itself. Tease him with it. Make him wait for you to reveal yourself to his eyes.”
Marie rolled her shoulders, and her dress slid over them. It was a slow motion. The dark wool slipping inch by inch to reveal the creamy fabric of her chemise.
“Disrobing in front of the fire is pleasing. The flames illuminate your body beneath the fabric of your undergarments. It tantalizes men.”
Marie turned and stepped out of her dress in a smooth and graceful motion. Her chemise was held against her body by a set of stays that did not match the somber color of her dress. Peacock-blue silk shimmered in the afternoon light. Such a rich fabric spoke of a lover who did indeed keep her very well.
“Now you try.”
Bridget felt her throat constrict. “Me? Do you mean to say that you want me to disrobe?”
Marie walked across the solar on little steps that looked lazy. She was completely at ease in her lack of clothing, almost content.
“I’m pleased to hear you say it plainly. At least we shall not have the chore of washing puritan teaching out of you.”
“Puritan habits are wise considering how Queens Catherine Howard and Anne Boleyn both met their ends.”
Marie lifted a hand and began slowly pulling her glove off, one fingertip at a time. “To court a crown is a dangerous game. Resist the urge to be too greedy when it comes to the power men like to believe should be theirs. Politics has always been deadly. With greater gain always comes higher risk. Remember to stroke the ego of the man who thinks he owns you.”
“Thinks he owns me?” According to the law, a husband did own his spouse. Even if Bridget wished it otherwise. Why did her gender make her less in the eyes of the world? She was every bit as keen witted as any of her brothers.
Marie pulled the glove free. Her hand was clean and smooth. She trailed her fingertips up her own neck before answering. In spite of the fact that she was another woman, Bridget found herself watching that touch. A faint tingle crossed her own neck in response.
“If you are wise, you will never forget that your heart is yours alone. It can be the greatest gift, but never can it be commanded.” Marie aimed a firm look at her. “You cannot entrance a man unless you are comfortable with your own body. Turn and disrobe.”
Bridget found that her hands shook. She fumbled the hooks that normally she opened with ease. A shaky breath rattled past her teeth as she tried to force herself to relax. It was only another woman, after all. What shame was there in showing her body to someone who had one exactly the same?
Her hands still trembled. But she finished and rolled her shoulders to send her dress down her arms. A least that worked well. Her dress slumped to the floor in a pile.
“Tomorrow I shall have you watch me while I entertain a man.”
“What?” Bridget’s arms crossed over her body in defense. Marie had no pity for her, though. She reached across the space between them and flicked Bridget’s quivering chin back up with one firm finger.
“You heard me correctly. I will arrange a place for you to view me giving pleasure to a man. You must gain confidence or you shall be doomed to be taken on your back like countless other brides. With nothing to do but endure being used to relieve your groom’s lust.”
