Married in Haste by Cathy Maxwell Page B

room.”
    Anne nodded.
    Once Signora Luiguisi took her bow, the three young women didn’t hesitate to excuse themselves immediately to the retiring room, only to find that it was too crowded. Instead, they slipped into Lord Ottley’s library.
    “Now what is this about sticks?” Tess demanded. She and Anne both sat on the leather couch.
    Leah stood in front of the hearth. “Men are built differently than we are,” she lectured matter-of-factly.
    “I know that,” Tess said. “I’m not a complete goose.”
    “Then why are you asking me questions?” Leah said. “A man’s stick is here.” With a semi-comical gesture, she showed where the “stick” was located. The three giggled with forbidden knowledge.
    Tess shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
    “I’m just telling you what the upstairs maid told me.”
    “You mean your mother didn’t say this?” Anne asked.
    Leah pulled back. “Mother would never talk of such an improper thing.”
    “Did you ever ask?” Tess said, curious.
    “Once. She boxed my ears and informed me my husband would tell me everything I needed to know.”
    Leah slid a glance at Tess. “Did you ever ask your sister-in-law?”
    “Would I be talking to you now if I had?” Tess countered tartly.
    Leah warned, “You both must swear to secrecy. Mother would give the maid the boot if she’d known she’d talked about this. But the maid said, and I agree with her, that it’s wrong to keep silent and then expect a girl to know what to do on her wedding night. Or why gentlemen want to get us off alone in a dark corner and fidget around.”
    “Yes, that’s what we want to know,” Anne said. “What is it that they try to do and why shouldn’t we let them? It must be something more than a kiss.”
    Tess was still puzzled about the previous point. “I can’t imagine any man having a stick in his breeches.

    Wouldn’t it show? Or be uncomfortable?”
    Leah made an impatient sound. “It isn’t a stick all the time. It grows.”
    Anne scrunched up her nose. “Grows?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then what is it most of the time?” Tess asked with a touch of exasperation.
    “A pillow.”
    Stunned, Tess and Anne glanced at each other and then burst out into laughter.
    Leah stood before them, her hands on hips. “If you are going to laugh, I won’t go on.”
    “We can’t help it—” Tess protested.
    “Please go on!” Anne begged. “But the image is so odd. You are telling me that men have sticks that are really pillows and these are in their breeches. How do they sit? And why is it all such a mystery?”
    “Would you want someone to know you had a pillow in your breeches?” Tess couldn’t resist, before hooting in the most unladylike manner possible.
    “It’s not a pillow when it’s important,” Leah said. “And if you are going to mock me, I’m not going to tell you more.”
    She made as if to leave the room but Tess quickly ran after her and pulled her back. She sat Leah on the couch between herself and Anne. “All right. Tell us all and I promise I won’t make light of the matter.”
    Leah frowned. “I doubt if you can keep that promise. You’d laugh at anything, Tess Hamlin. But before I tell you any more, you must pledge to do a small favor for me.”
    “What is it?” Tess asked.
    “Never mind. Just agree or else I’ll leave.”
    “All right, I will do a favor for you,” Tess said simply, “that is, if it is within my power.”
    “It is,” Leah assured her. “Very well now.” She motioned them closer. “The pillow becomes a stick when a man touches you. That’s why men like to touch us so much and our mothers warn us not to let them.
    Or encourage us to, if the man is rich enough,” she added bitterly.
    “Then what happens?” Anne demanded. “Certainly there is more.”
    “Once a man has formed his stick, he sleeps with a woman and she has a baby,” Leah finished in a no-nonsense tone.
    Tess digested all of this in skeptical silence. Neil and