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Authors: Sally Mackenzie
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one thing….”
“Yes?”
Meg shifted again. Lizzie was beginning to get seasick from the mattress rocking. She sat up. Meg was staring down at her hands, her face distinctly red.
“What is it, Meg?”
Meg addressed her hands. “I know I shouldn’t ask you, especially now, but I’ve been wondering ever since I overheard two of the maids at Knightsdale. I thought about asking Emma, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do so.”
Lizzie waited. Meg pleated her skirt.
“Yes?” Lizzie could not imagine a subject Meg was too hesitant to ask her sister. Really, she could not imagine a subject Meg was hesitant to ask anyone. Meg was not shy. “What did you want to ask me?”
Meg turned even redder.
“Does it hurt?”
Lizzie frowned. She must have missed some part of this conversation.
“Does what hurt?”
“It.” Meg stopped torturing her skirt and looked directly at Lizzie. There was annoyance as well as embarrassment in her eyes. “I do not understand why women keep unmarried ladies in ignorance of such things. You would think they would want to be certain we understood the procedure. I’m certain men know all the details as soon as they are out of short-coats.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What Robbie did to you in the garden. Did it hurt?”
It was Lizzie’s turn to blush. “No.” The activity had certainly evoked many sensations, but pain was not one of them. “No, of course it didn’t hurt.”
Meg nodded. “I didn’t think it could, else why would so many women consent to participate in the deed? Well, I suppose they want children—”
“Children!” Surely what she had done with Robbie in the garden did not lead directly to children, did it?
“Yes, children.” Meg frowned at her as though she were an idiot. “And I assume since it didn’t hurt, there was no blood?”
“Blood! Why would there be blood?”
“Because he breached your maidenhead, of course.”
“What?” Lizzie did not like the sound of “breaching.” It brought to mind James’s stories of storming fortresses on the Peninsula.
“So Sarah hasn’t told you anything either?”
“Of course not. Those discussions are reserved for the night before one’s wedding.” Lizzie shifted position. “What, um…” She cleared her throat. “What does a man use to do this breaching, do you know?”
Meg’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you? You were the one with Robbie in the shrubbery.”
“There was no breaching going on in the shrubbery.” Unless a tongue counted? But surely there was nothing constituting a maidenhead in one’s mouth.
“What was going on in the shrubbery?”
“Just tell me what a man uses to do this breaching.”
“His male organ.”
“His male organ? What exactly do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve never seen one in the flesh, of course, but I’ve seen plenty of naked statues.”
“Well, yes, so have I.”
Meg nodded. “The male organ is that little dangly bit in the front. I know it looks very odd, but I don’t suppose all those artists would have made it up, do you? Especially since they were all men. They must know what they’ve got in their breeches.”
“Oh.” Lizzie remembered quite clearly Robbie’s naked physique. She swallowed a large lump in her throat. There was nothing little or dangly about Robbie’s bit. “And the maidenhead?”
“It protects your womb, of course.”
“Of course.” Lizzie pressed her knees together. “And so you think the dangly bit somehow gets, um, into that area?”
“Yes. Haven’t you noticed the animals around Alvord?”
“No. Definitely not.” Lizzie was certain watching such behavior was extremely inappropriate. Meg had spent too much time in the fields, looking at plants and, apparently, other things. “There was no such activity going on between me and Lord Westbrooke in the shrubbery.”
“So what was going on?”
Lizzie gestured vaguely with her hand. “A bit of kissing. A little cuddling. Absolutely no
“Yes?”
Meg shifted again. Lizzie was beginning to get seasick from the mattress rocking. She sat up. Meg was staring down at her hands, her face distinctly red.
“What is it, Meg?”
Meg addressed her hands. “I know I shouldn’t ask you, especially now, but I’ve been wondering ever since I overheard two of the maids at Knightsdale. I thought about asking Emma, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do so.”
Lizzie waited. Meg pleated her skirt.
“Yes?” Lizzie could not imagine a subject Meg was too hesitant to ask her sister. Really, she could not imagine a subject Meg was hesitant to ask anyone. Meg was not shy. “What did you want to ask me?”
Meg turned even redder.
“Does it hurt?”
Lizzie frowned. She must have missed some part of this conversation.
“Does what hurt?”
“It.” Meg stopped torturing her skirt and looked directly at Lizzie. There was annoyance as well as embarrassment in her eyes. “I do not understand why women keep unmarried ladies in ignorance of such things. You would think they would want to be certain we understood the procedure. I’m certain men know all the details as soon as they are out of short-coats.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What Robbie did to you in the garden. Did it hurt?”
It was Lizzie’s turn to blush. “No.” The activity had certainly evoked many sensations, but pain was not one of them. “No, of course it didn’t hurt.”
Meg nodded. “I didn’t think it could, else why would so many women consent to participate in the deed? Well, I suppose they want children—”
“Children!” Surely what she had done with Robbie in the garden did not lead directly to children, did it?
“Yes, children.” Meg frowned at her as though she were an idiot. “And I assume since it didn’t hurt, there was no blood?”
“Blood! Why would there be blood?”
“Because he breached your maidenhead, of course.”
“What?” Lizzie did not like the sound of “breaching.” It brought to mind James’s stories of storming fortresses on the Peninsula.
“So Sarah hasn’t told you anything either?”
“Of course not. Those discussions are reserved for the night before one’s wedding.” Lizzie shifted position. “What, um…” She cleared her throat. “What does a man use to do this breaching, do you know?”
Meg’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you? You were the one with Robbie in the shrubbery.”
“There was no breaching going on in the shrubbery.” Unless a tongue counted? But surely there was nothing constituting a maidenhead in one’s mouth.
“What was going on in the shrubbery?”
“Just tell me what a man uses to do this breaching.”
“His male organ.”
“His male organ? What exactly do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve never seen one in the flesh, of course, but I’ve seen plenty of naked statues.”
“Well, yes, so have I.”
Meg nodded. “The male organ is that little dangly bit in the front. I know it looks very odd, but I don’t suppose all those artists would have made it up, do you? Especially since they were all men. They must know what they’ve got in their breeches.”
“Oh.” Lizzie remembered quite clearly Robbie’s naked physique. She swallowed a large lump in her throat. There was nothing little or dangly about Robbie’s bit. “And the maidenhead?”
“It protects your womb, of course.”
“Of course.” Lizzie pressed her knees together. “And so you think the dangly bit somehow gets, um, into that area?”
“Yes. Haven’t you noticed the animals around Alvord?”
“No. Definitely not.” Lizzie was certain watching such behavior was extremely inappropriate. Meg had spent too much time in the fields, looking at plants and, apparently, other things. “There was no such activity going on between me and Lord Westbrooke in the shrubbery.”
“So what was going on?”
Lizzie gestured vaguely with her hand. “A bit of kissing. A little cuddling. Absolutely no
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