Free Taming the Highland Bride by Lynsay Sands

legs.”
    “A chicken neck?” Merry asked blankly. Shewould never have described the few male parts she’d seen as a chicken neck.
    “Sort of,” Edda said with dissatisfaction. “’Tis straighter. At least ’tis when they are excited. And it does not have the bony ridges and it may be a tad bigger than a chicken neck.”
    “Oh,” Merry said faintly.
    Edda nodded solemnly. “’Tis most odd-looking. It sticks out from their body like a misplaced nose, but you must not laugh when you first see it,” she cautioned, and nodded to emphasize the point. “They become very offended. For some reason they are very proud of their chicken neck.”
    “Ah,” Merry choked out, trying desperately not to laugh. It would be incredibly rude when the woman was trying so earnestly to help her. Fortunately, Edda seemed to think the amusement she was trying to smother was about men’s pride in their parts.
    “Aye. Silly, I know, but they truly do strut around with it waving about like a war banner as if ’tis the most wonderful thing in the world. ’Tis really quite sad.” She shook her head with mild exasperation and then continued, “And we women have a—Well, ’tis sort of like a sheath for their chicken neck. In fact, they use it as such, wielding their chicken neck like a sword and sheathing it in the woman.”
    Merry pursed her lips to control her expression. War banner? Sheath? Sword? She couldn’t help but notice Edda seemed to use a lot of battle imagery. She waited for the woman to continue, but after a moment noted that her expression was quite satisfied, as if she were done.
    “Is that it?” she asked with surprise. “He will justwalk in here and sheath his chicken neck and ’tis over?”
    “Oh, well, no,” Edda admitted. Much to Merry’s surprise the woman was now blushing and avoiding looking at her. “He will no doubt kiss you a time or two, and then squeeze your breasts once or twice, and then if his chicken neck is excited enough and stiff, thrust it in your sheath.”
    “Humph,” Merry muttered, slightly disgruntled. It didn’t sound all that impressive or frightening to her.
    “I suppose I should mention that it will hurt if ’tis your first time, and I am sure it is,” she added quickly.
    “Aye,” Merry assured her solemnly, knowing the woman had merely misspoken in her discomfort and was not trying to insult her.
    Edda nodded. “It shall hurt a lot as he breaks through your maiden’s veil. That’s a bit of skin inside your sheath,” she added, gesturing toward Merry’s lap before continuing. “And there shall be blood, and in the morning we will come for the bloodied sheet and it will be hung from the stair rail for all to see the proof of your innocence,” she finished in a rush.
    Merry was worrying about the hurt-a-lot bit when the door suddenly burst open and a group of men began to crowd into the room, carrying Alexander d’Aumesbery before them. It seemed either the men had grown weary of waiting, or the women had informed the men that she was ready and in bed when they’d gone below. She wasn’t too pleased about that. Merry would have liked to ask more about this pain and blood. That didn’t sound at all appetizing,but then none of it had. Kiss, kiss, squeeze, squeeze, and in it went? It hardly sounded the most exciting business in the world, and it made her wonder why the maids were so willing to let the soldiers and her brothers have at them at Stewart.
    Merry’s thoughts scattered when her husband was set on his feet, and he promptly fell on his face. This brought laughter from the men, but made her grind her teeth and glare.
    “Oh dear, I hope he is not so sotted he cannot manage the matter,” Edda muttered.
    Merry didn’t comment, but she hoped so, too. Not because she would be embarrassed not to have her sheet hung in the hall, but because she didn’t wish to go through the next day worrying about the night ahead as she’d done today. That concern in her mind,