Page 90 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
“Got a nit,” muttered Edward, smashing the egg against the rag he’d been using to collect dirt and vermin.
“That has to be the last of them,” moaned Tabby.
“Most young ladies your age are far more stoic about the comb,” sniffed Edward, himself tired of their third round of washing and combing.
“Ya, but they’ve had people to do this for ’em and toughen up their scalps,” said Tabby.
“Be that as it may, no gentleman is going to want to share a pillow with a courtesan crawling with lice. Tends to set the cock at half mast, the prospect of itching.”
“You sound like a toff,” she huffed.
”Iama toff,” he retorted. “A toff who is cleaning you up, and don’t you forget it.”
Tabby slumped in her chair but uncomplainingly endured the rest of Edward’s labors.
***
When Edward deemed Tabby free of lice and all dirt, he rubbed her hair with a clean rag while she yelled again in protest.
But it was nothing compared to the look on her face when he drew forth the blade he used to shave his face.
“I didn’t mean to be bad,” she whispered.
“Gesù, Tabby, I’m not gonna hurt you!”
“But you’re holding that thing like Mr. Rymer does!”
“The barber? I should hope so! You need a shave.”
She touched her face, eyes wide.
“Not there,” said Edward. “Lower.”
Tabby glanced down, clearly confused.
“Can’t have lice in the fleece,” said Edward gruffly.
“In the what?”
“Nothing darting about the merkin.”
Tabby gasped.
“Now, see here!” exclaimed Edward when she made to run. “No gentleman wants lice of the lower sort either! I’m just preparing you for your new profession!”
“Does it have to be with a blade?” she asked, eyeing the thing with considerable fear.
“Just once to make sure there aren’t crabs nesting in there,” he reasoned. “I can’t sit betwixt your legs and comb for hours.”
“You labor between other women’s legs!” she cried, her eyes still stuck to the shining blade.
He laughed and ran his hand through her wet hair, fluffing it. She was clean at last, even behind the ears, and had the air of a very put-out cat. It was adorable, and the band about his chest that had snapped into place when he’d last seen Tencendor eased.
“I’ll show you how to shave using my face. Then you can go behind that screen and work on your fleece.”
He sat afore the cracked mirror they’d packed just that morning and beat some soap into a lather.
“What’s that?” she asked, standing before him and sticking a finger into the foam.
