Page 36 of How a Scot Surrenders to a Lady

A contemplative expression came over Marion’s face. “That’s not overly astonishing. Things do seem rather tangled, and I’m sure it’s weighing heavily on his mind.”

“What do ye mean? My memory loss?”

Marion sighed. “I imagine your lack of memory is part of it. And the king’s intentions for you are likely another part.”

“I ken what the king wants to do with me,” Sorcha blurted, wanting to hear what Marion had to say about it.

Marion’s brows shot up. “Did Cameron tell you?”

“Nay.” Sorcha didn’t want to keep secrets from Marion when she was asking for the woman to be her friend, but she also did not want to put Broch in a position to be disciplined.

“It matters little who told you,” Marion said, giving her a look of understanding. “My husband says David is a good man at heart, but even good men sometimes lose their way.”

Sorcha was surprised Marion would share such a thing with her but heartened that she had. It showed trust, and Sorcha did not intend to betray it. “Whether he is good at heart or nae dunnae make a difference in the end if he forces me into a marriage I dunnae want. What if I’m already married?” Sorcha asked, voicing one of her biggest concerns.

Marion blinked at her. “Do you think you are?”

Sorcha shook her head. “Nay. I truly dunnae. I’ve had nae any memories of any man but Cameron. It seems to me that if I was married, I would recall my husband, whether I loved him or nae, before a man I’d only met once and whose name I did nae even ken.”

Marion nodded. “It would seem that way to me, as well. What about when Cameron kissed you? Did it feel as if you had done such a thing before?”

“Nay.” Sorcha’s cheeks burned. “It seemed strange and foreign, as if I had nae ever experienced such a thing, but—” she took a deep breath, determined to forge ahead despite her embarrassment “—it was strange in a wonderful way.” She paused and worried her lower lip, nervous to voice what she was thinking next. “Marion, is there any way for a woman to ken if she is still an innocent?”

Color immediately blossomed on Marion’s cheeks as she nodded. “There is,” she said on an uneasy laugh. “Why?”

“Because if I’m still innocent, then I kinnae be a man’s true wife.”

Understanding dawned in Marion’s gaze. “I warn you that the process is quite, um, familiar. But it may be wise for us to know immediately if you are married, because if you are, that at least will stay the king’s hand in marrying you to another. Not to mention that you just kissed a man,” she said grinning.

“He kissed me,” Sorcha protested. She bit her lip on a wave of guilt. “Of course, I did kiss him back.”

Marion chuckled. “Yer secret will remain just that. Now, if you are truly married—that is, if a man has joined with you and made you his true wife—I can learn from a simple exam. Again, it’s quite familiar, but I assure you, it is painless. Do you wish for me to examine you?”

Of course she did notwishfor an intimate examination, but she did not wish to remain in the dark about whether she was married or not, either. She chewed on her lip for a moment, considering. “I do,” she said hesitantly, “but—”

“Before you tell me you’ll be embarrassed, I assure you that you don’t have any parts I myself don’t have, and I feel certain you would be far more embarrassed without a carafe of wine in your belly.”

Sorcha chuckled. “Ye are verra good at arguing yer points.”

Marion winked. “That’s because I have had much practice striving to get my way with my husband.” A fond smile came to her lips that made Sorcha wonder what her own face would look like when she spoke of her own husband one day. Would it be miserable or happy? Unbidden, Cameron’s image floated in her thoughts, and she sighed. One very exceptional kiss and she already was imagining the man as her husband? She hardly knew him! And regardless, the likelihood of such a future was almost nonexistent.

“So then,” Marion chirped, breaking into Sorcha’s thoughts. “You will need to take off your underclothes and lie on the bed.” Marion indicated a small bed in the far corner.

Sorcha frowned. “Why do I need to take off my underclothes?”

Marion’s face turned as red as an apple. “Have you never been in a household where a marriage takes place and the men watch the joining to ensure it has actually occurred?”

Sorcha faced burned. “I dunnae ken. I kinnae remember,” she said emphatically. But as she thought of what Marion was saying, more memories flooded her mind. She saw herself standing in a stable watching two horses mate—more accurately she was gaping at the stallion, shocked at what she saw. The same shock swirled through her now. “Ye wish to see if I’ve been mounted?” she exclaimed.

Marion’s brow furrowed. “What?” Understanding dawned on her face. “Oh, well, er, yes, that’s the way of it. If you’ve been mount—er, joined with, then there is a small barrier inside you that will not be there any longer. I will simply feel for the barrier with my fingers.”

“Ye will nae!” Sorcha cried.

Marion gave her a stern look. “I will have to if you wish to know for certain if you are someone’s true wife.”

Sorcha stood there for a moment, torn between her desire to know and the embarrassment of allowing Marion to do such a thing. Finally, she jerked her head in a nod. “Be quick about it, aye?”

“I assure you, I’ve no intention of taking my time,” Marion said, her lips twisting in a comical smile. She quickly went to the bucket, cleaned her hands, and waited patiently with her back turned for Sorcha to say she was ready.

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