Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Through it all, they tried to keep their spirits up, though their situation often felt lowering. The inns were not always clean; the ways were not always scenic. The weather was not always sunny and when it stormed, Rosalind woke up trembling in the night.
Marlow called their meandering northward tour their honeymoon, and kissed her each night as they lay together, but did nothing more, nothing like the close, intimate things they’d done the night before the ship sank. Then her courses came on her and Marlow seemed relieved.
She understood then what they had done together on the ship, and felt foolish she hadn’t made the connection before, because she knew horses better than most proper ladies did, had witnessed their mating and birthing because she’d spent so much time in the stalls. “Lying down together” in marriage meant mating. She and Marlow had mated, not like horses or dogs exactly, but she realized now that was why married people “lay down together.”
“I suppose I am not with child,” she said, noting his relief.
He gave a soft half-smile, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s for the best, right now. I want to have many beautiful boys and girls with you someday, but we’re not in the most comfortable circumstances at present for you to be in the family way. We’re jostling each day in wagons and sleeping in lumpy beds.”
“Oh, I see. Is that why we haven’t mated anymore?”
“Mated?” He flushed about his ears, something she noticed more now with his short hair. “Darling, if I’ve ever ‘mated’ with you, I’m sorry for it.”
“Is that not what we did that…that night on the ship?”
“I prefer to think of it as making love,” he said.
“Making love? What’s the difference between mating and making love? Is it merely mechanical, or—”
“Mechanical?” He blew out a breath. “I fear you’re not well informed about intimate matters. Did your mother never explain what to expect in marriage?”
The thought of her mama gave her a sudden stab of homesickness. “Well, no. Perhaps she was waiting until I was actually to be married.”
“That’s true. You ran away before she had a chance. I suppose it falls to me, then, to explain why mating and making love are not quite the same thing.”
Rosalind felt embarrassed and curious at once. She wanted to know about intimacy and lovemaking—and how it differed from animal mating—but it seemed an indelicate topic.
Somehow, Marlow wasn’t embarrassed at all. By the end of his talk, she understood a great deal more about male and female physiology, and what was really inferred by vague language like “lying down together” and “the marriage bed” or “the marital act.” He explained that making love was an emotional and sensual practice, more so than the mating of animals.
“I think I understand,” she said. “But I was wondering about a particular part of it.”
“Which part, darling?”
“The part when it built to that moment, when you were inside me and it really felt so…”
“Oh, that moment. Your satisfaction.”
“My satisfaction? Oh, yes. It was so, so…really so very satisfying. In fact, I’d never felt anything like that before. It felt rather like I was coming apart…down there.” She stole a look at him, hoping for more clarity on that specific matter, but he only gazed back with an amused expression and didn’t explain anything at all. “Perhaps that’s why I didn’t conceive a baby even though you put your seed in me,” she finished, feeling her cheeks color. “Because everything had been churned up into a muddle down there.”
“Churned up into a muddle?” He did finally laugh. “I wish I had some paper to write all this down.”
“Please don’t make fun of me, Marlow. I’m so ignorant in these matters.”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve made me feel the most triumphant lover. Churned up into a muddle, indeed. I’m flattered, though I must tell you a woman’s satisfaction has little to do with conceiving a child. Sometimes women conceive, sometimes they don’t, but it’s not connected to that, but rather if it’s the right time in a woman’s cycle.” He took in her confused look and rephrased. “You know how mares and bitches go into heat? No, forget I said that, it’s not like that either. But if you felt churned up, that’s a very fine thing.”
She frowned. “So there is no way to stop from having a baby if we wanted to save that for later, for after we returned home? For instance, by trying not to achieve that sort of…satisfaction?”
“It would please me greatly if you’d always strive for satisfaction. But to answer your question, no.”
“Oh. I see.” She tried not to sound disappointed. It was only that they were weeks away from England and after his talk, she was interested in exploring the topics they’d just discussed. All her sensitive places felt drawn to him, particularly now when he held her so close. The frank way he regarded her didn’t help.