Free Knight of Seduction by Cheryl Holt Page B

Lord Hugh?  I can comb out your hair.”
    Anne gnawed on her bottom lip, fuming, then relented.  “All right.  Just the two of you.  No one else is to bother me.”
    She returned to the bedchamber, with Dorag and Megrine hurrying after her.  They closed the door, and Anne spun to them.  To her disgust, she felt like weeping.
    “What’s this?” Dorag asked on seeing Anne’s stricken expression.  “Tears?  We’ll not have any crying.  Not with a handsome stallion like Hugh coming to your bed.”
    “I don’t want him,” Anne miserably wailed.
    “Not want Lord Hugh?  Let’s not even think it.”
    “I don’t know what I am to do.”
    “Well, Lord Hugh will show you, and I’m sure he’ll be quite adept at explaining himself.  I’m betting he’s ridden a few mares in his life.”  She leaned in and winked.  “Which means you’re a very lucky girl.”
    Megrine chuckled.  “No fumbling, bumbling bridegroom for you, Lady Anne.  It’s much better when the fellow has some experience.”
    “If you’re confused about anything,” Dorag said, “ask him what he wants.  He’ll tell you.”
    She produced a small flask from under her skirt, along with a tiny cup.  She pulled the cork and poured a dark liquid into the cup, then handed it to Anne.
    “What is it?” Anne inquired.
    “It’s wine with a bit of my special bride’s powder mixed in.  It will relax you; you won’t be so distressed.”
    Anne studied it, then shrugged.  She was anxious to the point of being ill and was desperate to calm herself.
    With no argument or hesitation, she tossed down the contents, and Dorag poured her a second dose.  She downed that, too, as Dorag and Megrine smiled shrewd smiles.
    “Now then,” Dorag said, “let’s get you ready for your husband.”
    The two women went to work, chatting about nothing as they efficiently stripped off Anne’s clothes.  Megrine had brought a jug of warm, fragrant water—it smelled like roses—and she emptied it into a bowl. 
    They dipped cloths and swabbed Anne’s skin, their soft strokes making her ripple with sensation.  They washed her nipples over and over, until they were sharp tips.  Her pulse pounded in them, and they ached in a new and exotic way.
    The potion Dorag had mixed in her wine was quickly taking effect.  Anne’s limbs were relaxing, her body warming.  Colors seemed brighter, noises more intense.  Her torso felt alive, begging to be touched.
    She was happy and not the least bit worried about Hugh or anything else.
    Megrine untied her braid, then combed through the lengthy tresses over and over until they were flowing down Anne’s back in a silky wave.  As Megrine toiled with her hair, Dorag added a rouge to her lips, a line of black coal to her eyelids. 
    “My, my,” Dorag murmured.  She stepped away and grinned. 
    Megrine joined her, and they assessed Anne, preening with pride at how well they’d done their job.  Anne, for her part, being overly intoxicated by the wine, suffered no shame at her nakedness and no urge to hide herself. 
    “You’re a beautiful bride, Lady Anne,” Dorag beamed.  “Lord Hugh will be very pleased.”
    “And very, very lusty at the sight of you,” Megrine agreed.  They giggled with merriment.
    “Will it be awful?” Anne asked.
    “Awful!” Dorag huffed.  “Who told you such a thing?  That witch, Blodwin, I’m guessing.”  She clucked like an outraged hen.  “It will be marvelous, Anne, and you’ll grow to love Hugh for it.”
    “Do you really think so?”
    “I know so.”
    Dorag patted Anne’s shoulder.  “Now then, we’d usually put you up on the bed, naked and shivering as the day you were born, but we have a gift from your husband.”
    Dorag gestured to Megrine, and she produced a package Anne hadn’t noticed when they’d arrived.  She opened it and found a robe sewn from a red fabric she’d never seen before. 
    “My goodness,” Anne gushed, “it’s magnificent.  Where did