She’d thought about their wedding night many times, especially after listening to all the tales of skirt tossings from some of the looser kitchen maids, but now that it was here, her nerves were on edge. She had paid close attention to what those women had said each time the topic came up. They’d told her the first time stung—like having a bee caught inside your female parts fighting to get out—and any time after that felt more wonderful, like warm honey spreading through your insides. She wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but she wanted to get past the bee stinging part. She remembered the wash basin and thought to freshen herself for her husband before he came into the room. Hurrying so she wouldn’t be caught in the middle of it, she dropped the sliver of soap on the floor. Her husband came in just as she was bending over to retrieve it. “Och, my Bella, what you do to me.” She jerked back to a standing position, horrified to have been seen in such a position, but when she straightened her skirts and turned around, the look on his face was that of a famished lad who was about to go hunting.
