Page 91 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
“Just soap,” he said, using the brush to dot some on the end of her nose.
She wiped it off in a huff.
“So you didn’t bathe much, on account of the whole…” said Edward, waving one hand to signify the fact that she’d spent years in lads’ clothes, all the while using his other hand to apply lather to his face.
“How often d’you wash up?” she asked, clearly huffy.
“A stud can’t go to a lady in want of breeding, caked with dirt and wearing filthy smalls,” said Edward, raising an eyebrow. “Same applies to courtesans.”
“Seems like an awful lot of work.”
“Well, it’s the line of work you picked!” he exclaimed in a fit of mirth.
“I’d rather not work at all! I told you!”
“You planning on becoming our queen? The positionisvacant,” he said thoughtfully.
“And marry the mad German king?” she hooted.
“Sounds like a bother,” he said, working on his sideburns. “The robes are heavy. My cousin once felt them.”
“What a burden it must be, to be drowning in furs and jewels,” she said drily.
“If you refuse the suit of the king, what does that leave you? An aristocrat?”
“I suppose I could marry a toff,” she said with equanimity. “Or a cit, no difference to me.”
Edward leveled her a look over his blade. “You’d be happy drinking chocolate in bed and getting dresses made up and, well, setting menus?”
“So many eels,” she sighed. “And I could have pie every meal. I’d never be hungry, not even a minute.”
“And what about your greatest task?”
“What’s that?” she asked, stars still in her eyes.
“Making babies.”
She grew silent.
“An aristocrat and even a banker will want heirs from you,” said Edward, poking her flat belly with a finger before taking the blade to his remaining stubble. “Watch me. Pull the skin taut and glide the razor over the hair.Do notpress into the skin.”
“I don’t know nothing about making heirs,” she said, watching as he shaved.
“Yet you protested that you’re aware of the mechanics of sex on many occasions!”
“Well, I’ve seen people doin’ it, but I couldn’t exactly do it myself on account of—” She gestured to her breeches.
Edward turned to her slowly, his eyebrow raised. “You mean to tell me that when you entered that virgin auction, you were…?”
“Of course! A doctor checked and everything.”
Edward waved that away. “Those things can be faked.”
“But I’m telling you,” she said, “I’m not fake.”
“I trust you,” Edward said, placating his huffy friend.
Tabby came closer and carefully reached her hand out for Edward’s blade. He let her take it and patiently sat while she grew accustomed to the feel in her hand. And then he realizedthat her revelation had brought to light something far more concerning than lice.
