"Well, lady, you would not be knowing such things being in the convent since you were scarce little more than a babe, but it is so. You are not afraid, are you? There is no need to be afraid."

"I am not afraid," Elf said calmly, but she would be if she didn't get her old nursemaid to leave the bedchamber. This was certainly not a subject she was comfortable discussing with Ida.

"Good," the old woman said. "Then, I shall leave you. Willa and I will sleep in the hall tonight, and every night from now on, lady. You will want your privacy, and that door scarce allows it." She shuffled from the bedchamber, leaving Elf quite astounded.

Did everyone at Ashlin know the state of her marriage, Elf wondered as she unbraided her hair and brushed it out? Was nothing a secret? But she did realize that in any small community, there were no real secrets. There had certainly been none at St. Frideswide's. Slowly she brushed her long red-gold hair, rebraiding it into a single plait, then climbing into bed. Where was Ranulf? Ah, she realized, Ranulf might not know that everyone at Ashlin was aware of their marital matters, and so he had probably remained in the hall with Fulk and his men, as was his custom each evening. Elf smiled and stretched her limbs beneath the coverlet. The room was dim, not overly cold this night. Her eyes grew heavy, and soon she fell asleep.

Looking down on her, Ranulf thought Elf was surely the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her thick dark lashes grazed her pale cheeks. Her sensuous little mouth was the most tempting mouth he had known. He had bathed and entered their chamber as quietly as he could. Now he raised the coverlet to slip into bed. Should he awaken her… or should he allow nature to take its course when she finally awoke? Unable to help himself, he leaned over and lightly kissed her mouth.

Elf opened her gray-blue eyes and looked into his hazel ones. "You need not have stayed so long in the hall, my lord. It seems the entire manor knows of our private matters," she told him. "Did you not see that Ida and Willa have gone to sleep in the hall? Ida says the door does not give us the privacy we need."

He laughed softly. "So, we are the talk of Ashlin, petite. How did all this come about?" Pulling up his pillows so he might sit, he drew her onto his lap.

Her heart had jumped when he moved her into his arms, but Elf managed not to show any nerves. "Ida told me she put a knife beneath the bed to cut the pain of my defloration," Elf told him.

"Why do women who should know better believe that old wives' tale?" He chuckled. "Mary’s honor, petite, you are not fearful, are you? I will not allow you to be afraid of making love!"

"Why does everyone ask me if I am afraid?" Her heart-shaped face was the picture of annoyance, and he almost laughed aloud. "If a husband and wife’s coming together in carnal fashion is pleasant, then why should I be afraid? Oh, I know, the first time will be strange, and yes, I know it will hurt when you pierce my maidenhead, but frankly I am more curious as to where everything goes than I am concerned about a brief pain. No, Ranulf, I am not afraid!"

"You are adorable," he said with a sigh. "Now I know why no woman has ever attracted me enough to induce me into offering marriage. It was obviously God’s plan that you be my wife, Eleanore."

To his surprise and delight, she gave him a quick kiss upon his lips. "Are you wooing me, my lord Ranulf? If you are, I like it very much." She snuggled against his chest.

"Dear Lord, help me not to hurry her," he prayed silently. Then his hand reached out to stroke her head. "Your hair is the most beautiful color. It is not a fiery red-gold, but rather a soft red-gold. Have you ever cut it, Eleanore?" His fingers pulled the ribbon holding her plait, and undid it. Then they began to unbraid her long hair. "I want to see you naked with only your lovely tresses for adornment, petite." He took up a thick handful of the hair, and pressed it to his lips. "Ummm, you smell of lavender."

Naked? He wanted to see her naked? Now, here was something she hadn't considered. "Is it fitting that you see me… naked? I did not know that husbands saw their wives naked, Ranulf."

"But they do," he assured her. "Did not God send you into this world unclothed, Eleanore? We are taught to be ashamed of our bodies, but why should we? God gave us those bodies."

"Oh." Her voice had gotten very small.

Ranulf tipped her face up to his. "You are beautiful, petite, and I want to see you as God fashioned you. I am pleased you are so chaste, but there is little need for modesty with your husband."

Her cheeks were warm with her blushes at his frankness, but she did not look away from him. "There is so much I do not know, Ranulf. I must rely upon you to guide me."

His arm cradled her. Now the fingers of the hand of his other arm began to unlace the ribbons that closed the front of her chemise. Elf’s eyes grew wide as her bosom was slowly revealed. She wasn't certain at all that she was even breathing, but she seemed to be. The long fingers pushed aside the fabric slowly, slowly, until the chemise slid from her shoulders, pooling just below her waist to rest upon her hips.

Ranulf let his eye roam deliberately and carefully over her perfect form. Round little breasts, no bigger than small apples, and a waist he could span with his two big hands. "Mon Dieu," he said breathlessly. "You are without flaw, petite."

Never taking her eyes from him, Elf unfastened the laces on his chemise, pulling it open and pushing it down to rest below his waist. Breaking the glance between them, she just as exactingly examined him. She remembered the first time she had seen him in the bath, but this was different. Her two small hands smoothed themselves over the broad expanse of his chest, then his shoulders. Running down his muscled arms, her fingers touched and stopped on a short, but thick scar upon his upper arm.

"The bite of a lance during a jousting tournament," he told her, catching her hand up to kiss the palm.

"Did you win?" she asked, taking her hand back.

"Aye," he said softly.

"And this one?" The pad of her forefinger rested at the crest of a longer, narrower scar upon his shoulder. "How did you come by this wound, my lord?"

"In a battle between the king’s and the empress’s forces, petite."

"You need more practice," she told him. "Both wounds are on the same side. You leave yourself open there. If you do not change your habits, you could lose your life through such carelessness one day."

"And how, Eleanore, has my little nun divined such an opinion?" he asked, quite amazed by her astuteness.

"It is not obvious, my lord?" was her quick reply.

"Your eye is sharp, lady," he said softly. His loins were beginning to burn with his longing for her.

"You have an improper look in your eyes, Ranulf. I think you should kiss me." Elf realized he was beginning to lust after her. Just looking at her was stirring his desires. His arm wrapped about her again, and his mouth came fiercely down on hers. He was dangerous! Then she gasped, quite unprepared for the feel of the hand that cupped her breast, fondled it gently, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing against her nipple until it was stiff and hard.

"Ranulf!" she squeaked, trembling.

"Eleanore."

"Oh!" But Mistress Martha had said men like to touch women’s breasts. She had not said, however, that when they did you would feel both hot and cold at the same time, and that your heart would threaten to burst through your chest. No. She had not said that!

"You are exquisite, petite," Ranulf said, his voice thick with an emotion she couldn't fathom. His hand moved to her other breast.

Fascinated, she watched the big hand cup her, the very repetitive motion of his thumb as it rubbed, and rubbed, and rubbed until it achieved the required result, and her nipple stood rigid. His fingers tenderly brushed her flesh until it was so sensitive that she actually moaned with his touch. "Stop," she finally whispered. "I shall die! I know I will!"

In response he kissed her again, his mouth playing over hers like a wildfire, brushing, lightly touching, nibbling upon her lips. She sighed with unfeigned pleasure, and he laughed softly. His hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her up, pressing his face into the shadowed valley between her delightful little breasts.

Elf reached out, using her hands to brace herself upon his shoulders as he held her up. It seemed to her that she was but a feather to him. The feel of his face against her flesh was exciting. Then suddenly she gasped as his tongue swept slowly up between her breasts. "Ohhhhhh!" The tongue moved on to lick at her nipples. Ripples of pure excitement raced up and down her spine. But he had not yet finished. His lips had closed over one of her nipples, and he began tugging hard upon it. "Ohhhhhh!" Elf closed her eyes with the utter pleasure that was sweeping over her. His mouth moved to the other nipple, and she shuddered with the exquisite thrill of it.

Now he slowly lowered her again into his lap, cradling her in his arms. "You are not frightened," he said. It was a statement more than a question.

"No," she said. " 'Tis lovely. I never dreamed…"

He laughed softly. "Of course you didn't, my innocent petite. Little nuns don't know of carnal love, nor should they."

"Matti and Isa used to watch the priest with the dairymaid," Elf told him.

"But you did not, I am certain."

"No, I didn't," Elf answered him. She turned slightly in his arms so that she might touch him again, bending her head and licking at his broad chest. She heard his sharp intake of breath, but he said nothing that would indicate he was displeased by her actions. Indeed his arms fell away from her so she might move freely. The taste of him on her tongue was faintly salty, but the scent of him was more elusive. Soap, and… musk? Yes, there was a muskiness about him, and it excited her greatly.

He watched her innocent exploration of his body. Her head moved lower, then lower still, sweeping over his belly, which was knotting in excitement. He knew he had to stop her now, but it was with great effort he raised her back up so he might kiss her. She melted against him, her warm naked skin pressed to his. Their arms wrapped tightly about each other, their mouths fused in a long kiss. Then Elf pulled away and sighed deeply.

The time was almost right. He slowly drew her chemise off, dropping it by the side of their bed. His lips brushed over her face, her eyelids, her straining throat. One hand grasped her shoulder. The other moved over her body tenderly, exploring loveliness such as he had never known… or even imagined. She writhed like a flame in his arms. Her skin was as soft as the finest silk, and he could feel her quivering ever so slightly beneath his big palm. She was pure perfection with her sweetly rounded hips and her slender legs.

His fingers brushed over the warm, plump mound of her Venus mont, smooth and devoid of hair as a proper lady’s should be. The tightness in his groin was greater than he had ever known. He ceased exploration of her for a moment to pull his own chemise off. Then he began stroking her again. A single finger ran down the shadowed slit dividing her delicate nether lips. He saw the instinctive tightening of her thighs.

To be touched so intimately. She had never imagined she would be touched in such a manner. Only now did she realize how naked being naked was. She felt almost threatened, and yet he was not threatening her. The finger began to push into her flesh. She tensed, and he stopped, kissing her lips softly as if he were reassuring her. The finger moved again, deeper, deeper. Elf struggled not to cry out.

She did not need a knife beneath the bed to cut the pain, Ranulf thought. She needed to be well prepared to receive his manhood. His finger sought carefully for the tiny jewel of her womanhood. Finding it, he began to play with it, teasing it with an extremely delicate touch. His mouth kissed her lips, her face. His arm held her tightly. The relentless finger flicked back and forth over the sensitive little nub of flesh, and it began to swell and tingle with its new sensitivity.