“And what then?” called a man-at-arms, one of her own party, of Nele’s party. Had he told them that they must pretend to join in the fun, or was he drunkenly enjoying the jesting? “What will the earl of Mercester do to the countess of Mercester once he gives that naughty bottom what it deserves?”
“Aye, that and more!” called one of Guy’s own men-at-arms. “Though the bishop bless the bed, it is my lord who decides how he shall ride tonight!”
Anne felt her eyes grow wide. Surely the man must not have meant what it sounded like? She looked at Bishop Hamo, sitting to her left. To her distress, he wore a kind of leering smile. He himself called out, to her dismay, “So long as the sin be confessed, my lords, a man should have his wife to use as he pleases, is my doctrine!” Then he turned to Anne, and said directly to her, “Wife, submit to your husband, as the apostle hath said and as I am sure the sisters of Stanmer taught you.”
A cheer went up at this, as Anne sat frozen in place, unable even to nod. Yes, of course the sisters had said that, but… She knew she had gone white when the bishop began to make his jest, but now she felt the color flooding back at the memory that came to her unbidden, of Nele claiming her with his cock in the place where it seemed these men were saying her husband would also take his pleasure. The arousal she felt at the thought seemed even worse, and more traitorous, than the desire that had come upon her for the spanking at her husband’s hand, for she had thought, in her foolishness, that only Nele would ever have here there: that it would be his special place, and a great secret between them.
But these men… how could it be that they said what they said?So many mysteries. . . learn their answers by buying the book!