Free The Maidenhead by Parris Afton Bonds Page B

the top of her coif came only to his chest. She had to double step in order to match his lengthy stride.
    The main house was constructed of oak slabs chinked with mud and reinforced with moss and roofed with cypress shingles. She followed him inside.
    The place had the clean smell of new wood. And it even had a floor, a puncheon floor of split pine. By squinting, she could tell that the window frames were weather-tight. The room’s furnishings were sparse—a ladder-back chair with rushing seat, a pine settle, and a short stool, not counting the long board table, of course.
    The fireplace was of goodly size with an oven built into its wall. A lugpole with a variety of hooks, chains, and trammels hanging from it stretched across its mouth. A shovel, tongs, and a pair of bellows were piled at one edge of the stone hearth, and around its rim were heaps of cooking equipment: ladles, saucepans, skillets, pots, cauldrons, and the like.
    She smiled. She hadn’t done too badly for herself for the meanwhile, but she wondered how her other matchmaking attempts had fared.
    “You can put your things in the bedroom.” He nodded at another doorway that opened on what looked like a lean-to. ‘"Tis the original cabin I built of logs when first I came to the colony. There's a double chest—"
    She supposed she should have expected him to get around to this matter sooner or later. She set her portmanteau on the board table, put her hands on her hips, and nodded toward the bedroom. “Yew be wanting a wee one anon?"
    His mouth quirked again, she wasn’t certain whether with laughter or contempt. Or mayhap both. He lounged against the entrance doorframe. Its tall lintel didn’t even clear his head. “Well, now, you have agreed to be my wife, and I do not recall any stipulation such as the one you arranged for the Lady Clarissa and her husband, Reverend Dartmouth."
    "How did yew find out about that?"
    “Thorough investigation was part of my training in reading law.”
    She wondered how much else he knew about her. Had he learned about her nocturnal enterprise back in London? "I’d be pleased if yew’d tell me just wot me duties be."
    "They’re not that taxing. Be prepared for Juana to— ”
    "Juana? Another wife?"
    At that, he grinned. "Hardly. Juana is as old as the bogs. A Spanish colonist who more than a decade ago was captured by the Arrohattoc. Even though she’s free now, she prefers the forest creatures to society's creatures. When the whim takes her, she might drop in. To cook, clean, or just to sit in silence and dip snuff. So you will have occasional help during the day."
    "And by night?"
    He straightened, careful to duck his head, and crossed back to her. He stared down at her. “My God,” he muttered, "we’re both dreading this.”
    "Wot!” she screeched. "I got me pride. Yew think bedding with me is bothersome. How do yew think I feel about yew, a savage straight out of the forest?"
    He frowned, tugged at his earlobe. "I think we had best get this over with now."
    “Yew’re mad!"
    His eyes were slivers of silver. "Aye."
    He scooped her up against him, and she knew her whole world had gone mad.
    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
    "'Tis broad daylight!" She protested as she stood beside the bedstead and glared at him. Her shaven head and bare feet disconcerted Mad Dog. Her feet were so small, with tiny toes. Without her hair, she was all ears and eyes. But those features appeared delicate. She seemed but a child. A small, defiant boy.
    "’Tis no matter." He set about unlacing her bodice with the air of a man committed to work little relished. His high-top moccasins were already draped over her discarded peasant’s pattens and buckled shoes on the bedroom hearth.
    She sighed. “Here, let me.” She slapped away his hands. "Yewr fingers are as thick as sausages.” She turned her back to him and drew off her dress.
    He began tugging his deer hide tunic over his head. She faced the other way. Late afternoon light spilled through the open