The three weeks of their engagement flew by. Raquel spent several days in London with her mother and sister to buy her trousseau: an ornate trunk full of dresses and linens that she would take with her to her new home. The rest of the time, they spent at home, sewing and talking. Lord Marquina visited several times, but mostly to discuss the arrangements of the wedding, the dowry, their household. She was a little disappointed that he didn't request to speak to her alone again, even though it would be allowed now, but she suspected that he took her honor very seriously and that he didn't want even the slightest hint of impropriety before they were properly married. So they talked only of practical matters, but he was always considerate, asking her opinion on all of the arrangements, enquiring how she would like her bedroom to be decorated and assuring her that she would be at complete liberty to redecorate the entire house if it wasn't to her liking. He brought her flowers and little gifts, though she wasn't entirely certain those weren't his brother's doing.

Two days before the wedding, her best friend Monica arrived – the first person Raquel had written to after Lord Marquina proposed. They had been friends since childhood, but they didn't see each other often anymore since Monica had married and moved across the country with her husband. There had been frequent visits at first, but it became more difficult for Monica to leave her home once the twins were born: Sinclair and Natalie, usually addressed by their nicknames.

"How are Cinci and Natti?" Raquel asked after the first joy of greeting each other was over and they had settled down.

"They're fine", Monica smiled. "I told you in my last letter that they were standing up, and yesterday Natti walked a few steps for the first time!"

"Are you sad about leaving them?" Raquel asked, but Monica shook her head.

"They're fine with their nurse for a few days, and I wouldn't have missed your wedding for the world! I can't believe you're going to be a lady soon! Tell me everything about him."

Raquel told her everything, repeating what she'd already written in her last few letters, but adding new details too, and Monica kept smiling and asking all the right questions. Marivi came in and greeted Monica warmly, then sat down to join the girls.

"Are you nervous for the wedding?" Monica finally asked Raquel.

"A little", she admitted. "It will be so strange to leave my home. I've never lived anywhere else."

"And the wedding night?" Monica enquired carefully. "Are you nervous about that?"

"I don't know", Raquel hesitated. "Should I be?"

Her mother cleared her throat. "I think it's time we had a little conversation. You see, Raquel, men are… anatomically quite different from women."

"Oh", she said quickly, "I know about that. Monica told me after she got married."

Monica blushed. "I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Murillo. I… I had to confide in someone."

"Of course", Marivi said, looking relieved. "Do you… have any questions?"

"No", Raquel said promptly, and her mother nodded and got up.

"Then I'll go check on tea."

Monica waited until Marivi was out of the room, then she turned to Raquel.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Yes", Raquel said. "You told me he has a… thing… down there. What does he do with it?"

Monica's blush deepened, but to her credit, she didn't shy away from the question.

"He puts it between your legs and then pushes in."

Raquel stared at her. That sounded absolutely bizarre.

"Why?"

"Because your marriage needs to be consummated to be valid, and that's how it's done. It's also how… how you'll get children. But mostly, he does it because it feels good for him."

"How does it feel for you?"

Monica hesitated. "It hurt a bit at first, but after that it was quite nice."

"It hurts?" Raquel said, suddenly a little nervous. "How much?"

"Only a little", Monica assured her. "And only for a bit. There may be a little blood, but it will never hurt again afterwards."

"So… so it will happen more than once?"

"Yes", Monica said with a slight smile. "Quite often, in fact."

"What's 'quite often'?"

"Every night, at first. Sometimes several times. After a while they become a little less eager, but they still like it a lot."

Raquel tried to wrap her head around it. She thought of awkward and proper Lord Marquina… the thought of doing that with him several times a night was frankly unimaginable. He hadn't even touched her – hadn't even come close to touching her, and suddenly they had to do that? It felt surreal.

"But that's not all there is to it", Monica said, and Raquel looked at her in alarm.

"There's more?"

"Yes", Monica said, "but nice things."

"Like what?"

"Well… has he kissed you yet?"

"No", Raquel said.

Monica gave her a sly look. "Would you like him to?"

Raquel blushed. She had to admit that, every time she saw him, she felt more attracted to him, and she couldn't wait for him to kiss her.

"Yes", she whispered, and Monica nodded.

"Good. Kissing is wonderful. At least, I like it. It… it makes me feel all warm inside, and then I feel like doing… the other thing too."

"So you don't mind the… other thing?"

"No", she said honestly. "No, I don't mind it at all. And just wait, Raquel, until he takes you in his arms for the first time."

Monica sighed happily, and Raquel felt a sudden stab of longing.

"It's so lovely", Monica continued. "Especially when you're both in bed in your night clothes and there's not that many layers between you and he's nice and warm, especially in winter."

Right… of course he would see her in her night gown. It didn't feel proper, but she supposed it was alright once they were married, and it would start to feel normal after a while. She had to admit that what Monica was telling her sounded very appealing.

"Do you sleep in the same bed?" she asked curiously. She'd been in their home and knew that Monica and Daniel each had their own bedroom, as she and Lord Marquina would have, but she suddenly wondered.

"Yes", Monica admitted, confirming Raquel's suspicion. "Not always, but often he doesn't go back to his own room afterwards."

"Is it nice to sleep next to someone?"

"Yes", Monica smiled, then she laughed. "Except for the snoring." Then her eyes softened. "But it's so lovely to fall asleep in his arms, and to have him next to me when I wake up."

Raquel felt a deep sense of longing stir inside her. Yes, she wanted all of that with him, all of that and more. She couldn't wait to lie next to him in bed, their faces close together as they talked. She couldn't wait to know what it felt like to be kissed and held. She was even looking forward to the wedding night. Even though the idea seemed rather odd to her, she could sense that it would be a meaningful thing to share with him, that it would create an intimacy between them that she'd never had with anyone else. She wondered what it would be like. She couldn't wait to find out.

…

Sergio got out of the carriage, a little stiff after the long journey, and looked up at his brother's town house. Well, technically it was his town house, but he could never think of it as anything else than his brother's home. It was located on a green square in a fashionable part of London, and he knew his brother would absolutely hate to give it up in order to go live in the country. Luckily, in two days he'd be married and there would be enough money to keep his brother and his family in their home. He still couldn't quite believe how smoothly everything had worked out.

He went up to the front door and rang the bell, then braced himself as the door opened.

"Uncle Sergio!" several voices rang out at once, and he was immediately engulfed in a wave of children, surging around him, pulling at his waistcoat and hugging him around the waist. He patted their heads affectionately, all except Andrew, the eldest, who solemnly held out his hand to him, and he shook it equally solemnly. The children quickly lost interest in him and ran back upstairs to their play room, all except six-year-old Delia, the quiet one, his favorite, who slipped her small hand in his and held on tight.

He kneeled down next to her and asked his usual question:

"How is Lady Butterfly?"

A year ago, Tatiana had insisted that Delia's favorite doll had become too dirty and must be thrown out. Delia hadn't made a fuss – she never did – but had quietly confided in Sergio how much she missed the doll. Sergio had told her that Lady Butterfly had actually gone on an adventure around the world, and that's why she couldn't come home right now. Every time he saw Delia, he told her the next place Lady Butterfly would be going, so Delia could learn about it with her governess, and then tell Sergio about it the next time they saw each other.

"She went to China", Delia whispered confidentially to Sergio.

"Really?" he said. "That sounds interesting. What did she do there?"

"She ate rice and played with Chinese children and she walked on the Great Wall."

"Well that sounds marvelous. What do you think, Delia? Will we go to China one day, you and I?"

The girl's eyes started shining.

"Yes", she whispered. "I want to go everywhere with you."

"Then we'll go everywhere", he assured her solemnly.

She wrapped her little arms around his neck and hugged him tight, and he carefully wrapped his own arms around her little figure to hug her back. Then she pulled back and asked:

"Where is Lady Butterfly going next?"

"Well…" Sergio said thoughtfully, "I think she might go to Japan now. What do you think?"

"Yes", she nodded.

"Then you must learn all about Japan with Miss Hanson and tell me what Lady Butterfly has seen next time."

"I will", she said earnestly.

"Good girl", Sergio smiled.

He got up and she took his hand again, and they went into the drawing room, where Tatiana got up to greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

"My dear Sergio", she said. "Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials!"

"Thank you", he murmured, involuntarily touching a hand to his cheek. Even after all these years, he still wasn't used to her greeting him like that.

Tatiana sat down again and rang the bell for tea. With her red hair and fair skin, Tatiana had been a real beauty in her day, and she'd had countless suitors – but finally she'd married his brother for love, much to the chagrin of her parents. Nine years and seven children later, she now had a decidedly matronly figure, worry lines around her mouth, and a substantial amount of grey in her hair, which Sergio knew was entirely due to his brother.

"Go play, Delia dear", Tatiana said to the girl still holding his hand, and he watched her follow her brothers and sisters upstairs with a slight feeling of sadness. He missed the time when she'd been small enough to sit on his lap, cuddling up to him in that trusting way she had, and falling asleep against his chest. He sat down and turned his attention to Tatiana.

"Andrés isn't here, of course", she said, a trace of bitterness in her voice. "Off galivanting again, I suppose. Honestly Sergio, I don't know how we even ended up with another baby, he's barely ever home."

Sergio cleared his throat and looked down. Tatiana had the unfortunate habit of complaining to him about his brother's absence from home, and it made him uncomfortable. He was glad that he and Miss Murillo had a rational agreement, so she wouldn't expect him to spend much time with her.

"How… how is little Robbie?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Tatiana's expression softened.

"He's an angel", she said. "Sweetest child I've ever seen – apart from Delia, of course."

"Of course", Sergio nodded. He wouldn't have accepted Tatiana saying anything less about his goddaughter.

They talked about the children for a while – or rather, Tatiana talked and Sergio listened. He didn't mind – he liked to know how his nieces and nephews were doing. Finally, an hour after Sergio's announced time of arrival, Andrés came through the door, nonchalant and debonair as ever.

"Hello my lovely wife", he said, ignoring Tatiana's scowl to kiss her on the lips.

"Where have you been?"

"Out", he said simply, then he turned to Sergio. "And we're going out again. Get your coat, we're going to see my tailor, get you a new suit for your wedding."

He frowned. "Is that really necessary?"

"Yes", Andrés said firmly. "Come on."

Sergio shot Tatiana an apologetic look, then followed his brother outside, where they flagged a carriage and got in. Andrés talked of insubstantial matters for about fifteen minutes, then the carriage drew up outside a big house in a slightly disreputable part of town and Sergio looked out, frowning.

"Where are we? This isn't your tailor."

His brother grinned at him.

"I got you an early wedding present."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me, little brother", Andrés said lightly. "How many women have you bedded?"

Sergio froze. This had better not be going where he thought it was going.

Andrés took his silence as an answer.

"Yes", he said smugly, "that's what I thought. Well, we're going to remedy that today."

"You brought me to a brothel?"

"Not just a brothel, brother dear – the best brothel in town. And I've reserved their best girl for you – a lovely creature, very sweet-tempered, perfect for a beginner like you."

He grimaced. "Don't talk about her like she's a horse."

His brother laughed. "Don't worry, this one won't throw you from the saddle."

"Indeed she won't", he said curtly, and Andrés grinned.

"That's the spirit!"

"No", Sergio clarified. "I mean, I'm not going in there."

"Sergio", his brother said, leaning forward earnestly. "You can't just go into your wedding night unprepared. She'll expect you to know what to do."

"I know what to do", he said, feeling himself go red. "I've read books, I know about… about female anatomy and… and what goes where."

Andrés was shaking his head. "This isn't the kind of thing you can learn from books, Professor. You can read about chess strategies until you're blue in the face, but nothing beats the experience of actually playing the game."

Sergio crossed his arms and leaned back. "I'm not getting out of this carriage. Tell the driver to move on."

Andrés grinned. "No. I wouldn't be doing my duty as an elder brother if I let you make a fool of yourself on your wedding night. If you don't come in with me now, I'll send the girl to your room tonight."

Sergio stared at him. "In your home? Where your wife and children live?"

"I'd rather not", his brother shrugged. "But I will if I have to."

Sergio shot him an incredulous look, but Andrés just raised a challenging eyebrow, and Sergio knew he was fully prepared to go through with his threat. He shuddered at the thought of Tatiana discovering that he'd brought a prostitute into her home.

"Fine", he snapped, getting out of the carriage, followed by a grinning Andrés. "Fine, let's get this over with."

They went inside, where they were greeted in the entrance hall by a formidable madam in a lavish dress. This clearly was a classy kind of establishment, where the girls weren't on display and the customers wouldn't cross each other in the hallway.

"Lord De Fonollosa!" the madam exclaimed as she spotted him. "Such a pleasure to see you again."

"And you, Madam Strauss", Andrés said, smoothly kissing her hand. "Are the girls ready?"

"Quite", Madam Strauss said. She clapped her hands, and a door opened and two lovely young women appeared, both dressed rather nicely. They smiled at Sergio and he immediately wished he could be anywhere else. One of the girls went over to Andrés and kissed him – apparently they knew each other. The other girl, with soft blond hair and even softer grey eyes, took Sergio by the hand, but he immediately pulled it away again.

"Don't mind my brother, Jewel", Andrés laughed. "He's a little shy around the ladies. You see", he added in a stage whisper, "it's his first time, so be gentle with him."

Jewel shot Sergio a surprised look, but then she recovered herself and smiled.

"That's alright", she said. "I'm sure I can teach him a thing or two."

Andrés gave him one last grin, then Sergio followed the girl through a door and up a flight of stairs, then through the open door of a bedroom. Jewel turned to him with a smile.

"So", she said kindly. "Is it really your first time?"

Sergio didn't reply, listening to the sounds in the hallway which indicated that his brother was passing by with his own girl.

"Do you want to take off my dress, or do you want me to do it?" Jewel tried again.

"Neither", Sergio said.

"You just want to lift the skirt, then? That's fine too", she said, bending down to pick up the hem.

"No, stop", he said urgently, lifting a hand.

She straightened up again and threw him a questioning look. He swallowed hard – just being alone in a room with this girl made him deeply uncomfortable, but he couldn't just walk out again or she'd be in Tatiana's house tonight. There was only one option. He cleared his throat.

"What's your name?" he said.

"Jewel."

"No", he repeated quietly. "What's your name?"

She gave him a long look, then said:

"Jennie."

"What… what's your usual rate for an hour, Jennie?"

She told him, then added: "But you pay Madam Strauss, not me."

He nodded. "And she keeps most of it, right?"

Jennie hesitated.

"Yes."

He took out his wallet.

"Well, how about this: I pay you double your usual rate. Half of it, I pay to Madam Strauss, and the other half, I give directly to you and she doesn't need to know."

Jennie's eyes went wide.

"That's… that's very generous of you, sir." Then she threw him a suspicious look. "But why? If… if you want to do any weird stuff, I'm not…"

"No, no!" he said quickly, grimacing. "In fact, I don't want to do any stuff at all. I pay you, and then we'll sit here for an hour and… and talk, or something, and afterwards you tell my brother we… we had relations. Would that be alright to you?"

Her eyebrows went up.

"Well", she said, "I've had some weird proposals in here, but this is one of the weirdest. But yeah, sure, why not."

She smiled, took the money from him, then sat down on the bed.

"What d'you wanna talk about?"

He noticed that some of her polish had slipped now that she didn't have to perform for him anymore, and she fell back into her regular accent.

"We don't have to talk about anything", he said, gingerly sitting down on a chair and scooting it as far away from the bed as possible, until he was next to the wall. "We can just sit here."

She gave him a curious look.

"Why are you here if you don't wanna do it?"

"My brother brought me", he said stiffly.

"Why?"

"Because I'm getting married in two days."

"Congratulations!" she smiled, then gave him another curious look. "And are you really a virgin?"

"I don't see why that's relevant", he said curtly.

She grinned. "I'll take that as a yes. How come?"

"What do you mean, 'how come'? I'm not married. Unmarried ladies are supposed to… to have their honor intact, why not unmarried gentlemen?"

"You know it's not the same", she said. "You could've come to a place like this and paid a girl."

"I don't like the idea of that at all", he said with a frown. "And on top of that, prostitutes are known to carry venereal diseases. Not that I'm saying you do", he hastened to add as he saw her face. "I'm just saying I'm not risking it."

"And you never had a friend to do it with?"

He drew himself up. "Are you implying that I would dishonor the ladies of my acquaintance?"

"No", she said quickly, suppressing a smile. "I wouldn't dare. How about servants, then?"

"What about them?"

"A big lord like you, you must have a pretty little chambermaid or two?"

He gave her a look of indignation. "I'm not forcing myself on the chambermaids."

"I don't mean to say that you would, but wasn't there ever a girl who was willing…?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Ah", Jennie smiled triumphantly. "I see there was! Why didn't you?"

He frowned at her.

"In your profession, Miss Jennie, I assume you're aware that that sort of thing leads to pregnancy? I'm not fathering a bastard on a young girl like that, ruining her chances of ever finding a good husband."

She gave him a long look.

"You're actually a man of honor, aren't you?"

"That's what a gentleman is supposed to be."

She scoffed. "Not the gentlemen I know."

"Then you don't know any proper ones", he said curtly.

"No", she said softly. "I don't suppose I do."

They sat in silence for a while, then she said:

"Look, you seem like a nice fellow, and you gave me all this money… I feel like I should do something in return."

He looked up in alarm. "I told you I don't want to…"

"No, no", she assured him. "Not that. But if you're getting married soon, maybe you'd like to know a little something about women?"

"Like… like what?"

"Like what you should do on your wedding night."

"I've read books", he told her, like he'd told his brother.

She sniffed. "So you don't know nothing. You know how it hurts for women on their wedding night, right?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm… I'm aware that there may be some discomfort, yes."

"Yeah", she said, "so be gentle with her. Don't just go storming in – push in a little bit at a time so she can get used to it."

He felt himself go a bright, burning red at hearing her speak so brazenly of these matters. He desperately wanted to ask her to just stop talking, but… but if it would save Miss Murillo discomfort…? He swallowed.

"Anything… anything else I should know?" he whispered, almost in spite of himself.

"Yeah", she said. "Wait until she's wet before you go in."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The place where you have to go in? Feel around a bit with your fingers first. If she's wet, it will hurt much less."

Oh god, thinking about Miss Murillo in this way made him want to sink through the floorboards. How, how had he gotten here? He had never wanted anything to do with women in the first place and now he had to worry about them getting wet? All he could manage was a whisper.

"How… how will she get… that way?"

"Ah", she smiled. "Now you're asking the right questions. Do you want me to teach you?"

"Teach me what?"

"How to make it good for a lady."

Oh no, no, no he did not want her to teach him, he didn't want to hear any more, he wanted to get out of here and never talk about things like this again, oh, the very thought of the topic made him cringe… but now that she'd said that, he just could help himself… he had to ask.

"Why… why wouldn't it be good?"

She grinned. "Ladies are a little more complicated than fellows. If you don't know what you're doing, she won't like it. But if you do…"

The implications hung in the air. He'd never really given this much thought, but he supposed… he supposed since they had to do it, he did want it to be good for her?

"Aren't you curious?" she smiled.

She had him there. Yes – even though his cheeks were burning and he had never been more uncomfortable in his life, he had to admit that his curiosity was piqued.

"Alright", he said carefully. "I… I suppose you can teach me. But only by talking! No taking off your clothes!"

She chuckled. "Well that's the first time a man has ever said that to me. But alright. Let's start with kissing. Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"No", he said, feeling uncomfortable at the very thought.

"Well, it's important. If you want to get a girl wet, you start by kissing. The more the better. And not just with your mouth closed – open your mouth and use your tongue to touch hers."

Well that didn't sound appealing at all.

He fidgeted. "Isn't… isn't that rather unhygienic?"

She burst out laughing. "Oh boy, if you think this is bad, I got a feeling you're not gonna like what comes later."

"Why?" he said, absolutely dreading the answer. "What comes later?"

"One thing at a time", she said. "Now, most fellows just lift the skirt of their lady's nightgown and do it like that, but I'm telling you: you should take off her clothes, and yours too."

"You mean…", he said, his eyes wide, "all of them?"

"Yes", she said firmly. "All of them."

He stared at her. He hadn't been naked in front of another person since his nurse when he was five years old. The mere thought of taking off his clothes in front of a virtual stranger like Miss Murillo made him shudder – he would feel ridiculous, not to mention painfully vulnerable. Also, he was fairly certain she would protest if he tried to undress her completely.

"I can't do that", he said, shaking his head. "It's not proper."

"I'm telling you it's the only way to do it right. That's how you get to her breasts."

He was deeply regretting this entire conversation, a squirming feeling of embarrassment in his stomach, but he felt like he had better get to the bottom of it now.

"Why… why would I want to… get to them?"

"Most women really like it when you touch their nipples. Touch them, squeeze them, not too hard, but not too soft either."

He felt like he could burst into flame any moment now, but she wasn't done.

"Then use your mouth and suck them."

He was so surprised that he momentarily forgot his embarrassment.

"What", he said incredulously, "like a baby?"

"Yeah. Just trust me on this."

The very thought of it was so bizarre that he could only shake his head in consternation. Did people really do that?

Jennie continued talking.

"And then we get to the really important part."

"I know all about that", he said quickly. Please, please let this be over.

"No you don't", she said firmly, and he groaned inwardly. "You know how men can finish? Well, women can finish too, only we don't make a mess."

He gave her a suspicious look. "There's nothing about women reaching a… a climax in any of the literature."

"That's because most women don't even know they can do it, so how would their husbands know?"

His scientific curiosity got the better of him.

"But… what purpose would it serve?"

"Sorry?"

"A man's climax serves a reproductive purpose. What would be the purpose of a female climax?"

She shrugged. "I don't know nothing about reproductive purposes, I just know that it feels damn good."

He was still skeptical, but open to the idea, his embarrassment lost in fascination.

"So… hypothetically… how would I make that happen?"

"That's the tricky part", she said. "You see… if you draw a line straight down from a woman's belly button, once you're between her legs, but before you get to the place where you go in, there's a little button."

He stared at her. "A… a button? There's nothing about that in my books on female anatomy."

"That's because they're written by men", she scoffed. "And men don't know nothing about women. Now, this button can be a little hard to find…"

She shot him a look. "You know, it would be much easier if I could just show you…?"

"No!" he said quickly. He wasn't sure if embarrassment could kill a man, but if she undressed for him, he was pretty sure he would find out.

"Fine", she shrugged. "Then just feel around a bit, you'll notice when you've found it."

Oh god, oh god, what would Miss Murillo think of him if he just started to 'feel around a bit' down there? He started sweating at the very thought.

Jennie continued her explanation.

"If you move your finger up and down over the button for long enough, she'll finish. Or your tongue, that works even better."

"My tongue?" he said, aghast. She had to be joking.

She grinned. "See, that's the part I thought you wouldn't like. But I swear it's the best way to do it. If you make her finish before you do your thing, she'll be really wet and then it won't hurt anymore."

His mind was reeling. This all sounded extremely complicated and alarming and, frankly, like a completely inappropriate thing to do to another person's body. Jennie seemed to notice his hesitation.

"Look", she shrugged. "If you just want to get in and out and get the job done, that's fine by me too. But if you want her to have a good time, you should do exactly what I told you."

She yawned.

"Well, that's about it. If you don't mind, I think I'll take a nap now. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Of course", Sergio murmured vaguely, his thoughts still on nipples and buttons. "Go ahead."

She settled herself on the bed, and soon she was soundly asleep. He sat in his chair for a while, just staring straight ahead, trying to process everything he'd just heard. He just couldn't imagine doing any of that to another person, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to summon the courage to try it with… with Miss Murillo.

It was hot in the room – despite the warm spring weather outside, there was still a fire in the grate – so finally he got up and opened a window. The fresh air was a relief, and he took a few deep breaths, trying to settle his thoughts. The window looked out onto a little courtyard, and as he was standing there, two girls emerged from a door right underneath his window, and their voices drifted up to him.

"God, it's hotter than July up there."

"I know, I just had to get some fresh air."

"Me too. That last punter smelled like an ox."

"Ugh, why do they always have to smell so bad? Especially afterwards, when they're all sweaty. It's disgusting."

"You know what this one asked me afterwards? If I'd enjoyed it. Can you believe it?"

There were snorts of laughter, then the same voice continued:

"Why do men always think we actually like it?"

"Well, we do pretend to like it."

"Sure, yeah, otherwise they'd never come back. But has it ever actually been good for you?"

"Nah, of course not."

Sergio glanced over at the sleeping Jennie. She'd just been telling him that women could, in fact, enjoy this activity, but the girls out there were telling a different story. Had Jennie been lying to him? Had she realized how naïve he was, and had she just been having a little fun with him, so he'd make a fool of himself, wanting to suck at nipples like a baby, looking for non-existent… buttons… and things? Would she later tell the story to the other girls, laughing about how she'd fooled a lord?

"I just had one who couldn't even get hard", one of the girls outside continued.

"Well", the other one said, "then at least you had an easy time of it."

"I wish", the first girl snorted. "He had me try to get him hard for half an hour, but it just wouldn't work."

"Pathetic", the second girl scoffed.

Sergio swallowed. What if he couldn't… on their wedding night? Would she think he was pathetic too? The voices outside went on.

"Yesterday I had this kid in. Little lord, twenty-something, just got married. Told me how he'd done his duty on his wedding night, said it was awful. Blood everywhere, girl wouldn't stop crying for hours."

Sergio felt himself go pale.

"He swore he'd never do it again", the same voice continued. "Said he'd just come here a few times a week, he's scared of even touching her."

"Yeah, no wonder, with those noble ladies. Don't know nothin' going in. Don't even have no idea of what a man looks like down there, and then suddenly they get it shoved between their legs. I'd cry too."

Sergio had heard enough. He closed the window and sat back down in his chair, feeling nauseous. Would she really not know what was going to happen? Would it all come as a complete surprise to her? Would she be shocked, horrified, disgusted? Would she bleed? Would she cry? He started sweating at the very thought. What would he do if she started crying?

Really, he thought, shaking his head, what a barbaric business. What a way to procreate. He fervently wished that he didn't have to do this to her, but he knew their marriage had to be consummated to be valid. He supposed he would just have to do what Jennie had told him. He wasn't sure anymore how much of what she'd said was trustworthy – he was highly skeptical of the button theory now – but he supposed it couldn't hurt to be gentle, as she'd told him to be, or to push in a little bit at a time to let her get used to it. He could only pray that he wouldn't hurt her too much that way.

He kept checking his pocket watch, desperate to get out of this room, away from this awful place, and finally the hour was up. He hovered by the bed for a moment, uncertain of how to wake her – he didn't want to touch her – until he finally settled on repeating her name over and over until she stirred. He waited for her to wake up properly, then he reminded her of their deal, and they left the room together and went downstairs, where his brother was waiting for him with a broad grin.

"So, Jewel of my heart, how did he do?"

"Great", Jewel said promptly. "Really fantastic. He's a natural."

Sergio frowned at her to tone it down, but Andrés laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Who would have thought? Looks like Mrs. Marquina is going to be one lucky lady."

Sergio had a sinking feeling in his stomach as they left the brothel and got into a carriage outside. After what he'd heard today, he didn't think that his bride would feel particularly lucky on their wedding night.