Mary Wine - Improper Seduction

Jane clasped her hands together. She was still agitated, and her leather gloves made a smacking sound when they met.

“We must do all in our power to ensure that your union is a solid one.”

The look in her mother’s eyes was one Bridget had not seen before—a sort of determination that almost looked desperate. Jane looked at Bridget in a way she had never done previously. It was an assessment from one woman to another. Her mother settled on some firm decision.

“Come with me, Daughter. I have someone for you to meet.”

Bridget stared at the woman her mother took her to. Hidden behind the thick oak door of her mother’s solar was someone she had never thought to actually converse with.

“This is Marie. She is a courtesan. We shall refrain from mentioning her family name. The staff does not know she is here. That is best for us all.”

“I’ve heard of such women before.”

Jane looked displeased. Bridget merely stared back at her mother.

“What is the point in behaving as though I have not heard of courtesans when you have brought me to meet one?”

Courtesans were women who captivated men. They were not common prostitutes. Most of them serviced only one rich client at a time. Such women were well educated, schooled in dance, and versed in several languages. More than one nobleman’s illegitimate daughter was a member of their ranks. Most important, they were demure and silent, keeping their exploits hidden behind closed doors. Men flocked to them, often waiting for long periods before being able to sponsor one of the elite women and thereby gain her personal attention.

Her mother sighed. “I suppose you are being more practical than I.” She drew a deep breath and gestured at Marie. “In light of the perilous times, I have purchased some of Marie’s time in order to have you instructed. She has graciously agreed that you should not remain ignorant.”

“In what subject?” The question slipped out because Bridget was too busy looking at Marie. Yes, she had heard of courtesans, but the reality was far more intriguing than the whispers. The woman was gowned in wool as fine as Bridget and her mother wore. The courtesan’s gloves were leather and lacked no tailoring detail. Her face was smooth and lightly accented with powder. Her lips were stained the color of ruby, and not some garish shade of red that was too bright. Marie looked for all the world as if she might be a woman of noble birth on her way to court. The only difference was the lack of jewelry. She wore no pearls or gems. Such things were only for the blue-blooded nobility. But Jane’s tone also reminded Bridget that Marie did not have to answer her summons like a servant. The courtesan was there of her own free will.

“The subject of seduction.”

Bridget turned a curious look on her mother. “You have already taught me what to expect in my marriage bed.” Jane had seen to that task the night that she and Curan had knelt in the family chapel to swear to one another. She was practically a wife after such; the only detail lacking was a bedding. Curan had said that he would not claim her until his last duty to the king was served. It was not an uncommon arrangement. Negotiations for a wedding between noble families often took many years, often difficult to time exactly. A “pledge to marry” ceremony often took place when the families reached agreement but the knight still owed service. Moreover, such a ceremony was expected to be honored by both families, drawing its strength from the codes of chivalry. But it was a truth that legally her father could wed her to another. She had simply never considered that her sire might break with the knightly code of conduct.

“What you have not been taught is how to please a man.” Bridget’s mother flushed slightly, but she didn’t appear uncomfortable. The stain on her cheeks was paired with a flicker of enjoyment in her eyes. “Since the men of this country have become so greedy, taking numerous wives whenever the whim consumes them, I believe it is time we women employ a few tactics of our own to ensure our futures.”

Jane looked at Marie. “I will trust you to teach my daughter everything she needs to know about stealing a man’s wits in bed. I shall be in the outer chamber making sure you are not disturbed.”

Or discovered. Bridget added the little comment inside her head. Her mother cast a look at her before leaving the room. Bridget returned her attention to Marie, curious to discover just what seduction entailed. Certainly she had heard the word, but in truth she knew little of the details.

A slow smile curved Marie’s lips as Bridget watched. Something very intriguing swept over the courtesan; a confidence seemed to radiate from her.

“We shall begin with how to disrobe.” Marie strode into the center of the chamber. Her eyes took on a slightly slanted appearance. “Men can be slaves to their lust. They are greedy like children looking for sweets. Learn to control that appetite and you shall master the man.”

She turned in a graceful flare of skirts. “Always make him watch you. Do not give in to his demands to rush. Once he is spent between your thighs, your power over him recedes.”

Marie paused with her back to Bridget. She peeked over her shoulder in a gesture that was both teasing and naughty. Her eyes were half closed, the lashes veiling her deepest thoughts. Bridget heard the popping sounds of the hooks opening on the front of Marie’s bodice. That sound sent a little heat racing into Bridget’s cheeks. Hearing it, yet being prevented from seeing the opening of the garment, sent her mind racing with ideas. Marie laughed. Low and sultry, the sound floated over her shoulder.

“You understand, don’t you, Bridget? The idea of what I am doing is more powerful than the act itself. Tease him with it. Make him wait for you to reveal yourself to his eyes.”

Marie rolled her shoulders, and her dress slid over them. It was a slow motion. The dark wool slipping inch by inch to reveal the creamy fabric of her chemise.

“Disrobing in front of the fire is pleasing. The flames illuminate your body beneath the fabric of your undergarments. It tantalizes men.”

Marie turned and stepped out of her dress in a smooth and graceful motion. Her chemise was held against her body by a set of stays that did not match the somber color of her dress. Peacock-blue silk shimmered in the afternoon light. Such a rich fabric spoke of a lover who did indeed keep her very well.

“Now you try.”

Bridget felt her throat constrict. “Me? Do you mean to say that you want me to disrobe?”

Marie walked across the solar on little steps that looked lazy. She was completely at ease in her lack of clothing, almost content.

“I’m pleased to hear you say it plainly. At least we shall not have the chore of washing puritan teaching out of you.”

“Puritan habits are wise considering how Queens Catherine Howard and Anne Boleyn both met their ends.”

Marie lifted a hand and began slowly pulling her glove off, one fingertip at a time. “To court a crown is a dangerous game. Resist the urge to be too greedy when it comes to the power men like to believe should be theirs. Politics has always been deadly. With greater gain always comes higher risk. Remember to stroke the ego of the man who thinks he owns you.”

“Thinks he owns me?” According to the law, a husband did own his spouse. Even if Bridget wished it otherwise. Why did her gender make her less in the eyes of the world? She was every bit as keen witted as any of her brothers.

Marie pulled the glove free. Her hand was clean and smooth. She trailed her fingertips up her own neck before answering. In spite of the fact that she was another woman, Bridget found herself watching that touch. A faint tingle crossed her own neck in response.