Flann had dressed her in her new nightgown.

Flann had undressed her. Flann had brushed her hair. Flann had dressed her in her new nightgown. Flann had tried to rub the tension out of her shoulders. Flann had whispered that she had only to relax and trust him, and everything would be beautiful.

Cat had hated the words. She hated being told by her younger sister – her pregnant, unmarried, unrepentant sister – how it would be. More than that, she hated the words because Leofric had said almost the same thing to her once.

Cat had hated the words.

Someone knocked at the door, and she choked and cringed in revulsion – but it could not be Leofric. Leofric was hundreds of miles away. And Leofric did not knock: he merely sauntered in unbidden.

“Who is it?” she called.

“Paul!” He still spoke his name with the eager delight of a child with a new toy.

“Come in! But you don’t have to knock,” she giggled nervously as he entered.

'But you don't have to knock.'

“I don’t? Hmmm.” He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “I thought I had better. I don’t know what you girls do when you’re alone.”

Cat closed her eyes and tried to breathe evenly. He didn’t mean anything by it, she reminded herself. She had never told him not to speak of such things.

When she opened her eyes he was looking at her.

When she opened her eyes he was looking at her.

“That’s pretty,” he said.

She looked down, but all she could see of herself was the tops of her breasts. This nightgown was cut lower than anything he had seen her in before. But of course, he had seen her in nothing but her wedding dress so far.

She clapped her hand over her bare skin. “It is made after Hetty’s nightgowns,” she said for no good reason.

'It is made after Hetty's nightgowns.'

“I shall try to forget that, or Alred will wonder how I know,” he laughed.

“I’m certain it would be prettier on Hetty. She’s so fair. It only makes me look brown.”

He nodded but lifted his eyebrows quizzically, as if he was unsure whether to agree. She looked down again and saw that her brown hand was in fact making her breast look rather white in comparison. She let it fall.

He stepped closer and said, “Everyone who described you to me always told me how dark you were. I expected you to be as dark as Nush, but you aren’t nearly as dark.”

'I expected you to be as dark as Nush, but you aren't nearly as dark.'

“Is that good or bad?” she laughed nervously.

He came still closer, until he was leaning over her as she leaned away from him, almost matching the curve of his body to her own.

“It’s good, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way. Whatever color you were, I knew it was my favorite color.”

'I knew it was my favorite color.'

He lifted a hand and gently brushed back the hair that fell over her breast. She told herself it might have been another unconscious gesture, tidy as he was, for all evening he had been straightening her hair into symmetric sheaves on either side of her face and neck.

Nevertheless his fingertips swept across her bare skin, and immediately goose bumps prickled up all over her. The stiff hairs of her arms poked uncomfortably through the lace sleeves, but worse was the front of her gown, which had drawn tight over her nipples.

However, she never saw whether he had noticed, for he abruptly pulled her against him and kissed her. As with Leofric, that first touch seemed to have broken the spell, and now his body was touching hers from head to knees.

He pulled her against him and kissed her.

She commanded herself to relax, and he ran his strong hands over her back as if he meant to make her, almost kneading her against him, almost forming her into another shape that would match his like a mold. She commanded herself not to cry out.

“I want to kiss you with my eyes open,” he said with a small, staccato laugh, though whether from passion or nervousness she could not tell. “Is that crazy? I want to see you.”

She gave him a broad, brave smile, though it felt like she was sawing her face in half with it.

She gave him a broad, brave smile.

“You want to see something that will make you look brown, Mina?” He stared into her eyes with an unnerving intensity. “Wait until I take off my shirt. My bare chest will make your white gown look gray.”

“I’ve seen it.”

Instantly she was back in her bed at Egelric’s, fluffing up her pillow into something that might resemble an elf’s chest before laying her head upon it. Had she so recently been a maiden who could like the look of a man and dream of lying in his arms? His? Had she truly dared think herself so experienced and wise merely because so many men had been foolish over her?

'That was in the summer.'

“That was in the summer,” he said. “This is the winter, and my body hasn’t seen the sun in half a year.”

She forced herself to giggle.

“Afraid I shall blind you?” he asked. The words were a joke but his voice was not.

“No!” She tried to smile.

'No!'

“Mina,” he murmured. “We don’t have to do this.”

“No!”

“Mina, what did I tell you? If you don’t tell me the truth?”

She looked away.

“I know you didn’t expect to be here for another two months, Cat. That’s not why we’re here now. I’m here to protect you. I don’t want to be the one frightening you.”

'I don't want to be the one frightening you.'

“No,” she squeaked.

He released her and took a step away from her. “Here is what we shall do. You shall lie atop the sheets and I shall lie beneath. And if you get cold you may always come and join me. Though this gown looks nice and warm as it is.”

She nodded, but she could not bring herself to look at him for fear he would see gratitude in her eyes.

She nodded, but she could not bring herself to look at him.