(Fairy Tales #1) Charming the Prince by Teresa Medeiros

Author:Teresa Medeiros [Medeiros, Teresa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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The fire sputtering upon the ash-encrusted hearth revealed that "old Netta" was probably no more than a dozen years older than Willow. With her slender waist and mane of honey-brown hair, she had probably been what most men would call a handsome woman before time and disappointment had etched a permanent sneer on her lips and carved gaunt hollows beneath her soaring cheekbones.

Although a basin and cloth perched on a stool in front of the hearth, there was no mistaking the musky aroma that still hung in the air. Willow kept her gaze averted from the rumpled bed, trying not to imagine how many men must have taken their pleasure there. That task became more difficult when Netta plopped down on the foot of it and leaned back on her elbows.

Painfully aware of the woman's measuring gaze, Willow moved the basin to the hearth, sat down stiffly on the stool, and rested the basket at her feet.

"So how do all the fine folk at the castle fare?" Netta asked lightly. "Your lord? His brood?"

'Twas not the question Willow had expected. "My lord and his brood are quite well, thank you. And they're precisely why I've come to see you today." She toyed with the sleeve of her kirtle, finding it impossible to keep from fidgeting. "It has been brought to my attention that you are a woman of some...

um... experience."

Netta arched a plucked eyebrow, urging her to continue.

"Which is why I was hoping you could teach me..." Willow faltered.

"To satisfy your man?" Netta ventured. "There's no need to stammer and blush, you know. You're certainly not the first bride to seek my counsel. Nor will you be the last."

"Oh, I don't think my man is going to be very difficult to satisfy," Willow confided, blushing even more furiously than she had on the doorstep. "What I am seeking is some way to satisfy him without ending up with his babe in my belly."

Netta surveyed her for a bemused moment, then threw back her head and cackled with laughter. "I'm a Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

whore, not a witch, child. I've no potions or spells to prevent a man's seed from taking root in his woman's womb. Especially not your man's."

" 'Tis not a potion or spell I seek," Willow said desperately, "just some sensible advice. Surely you must practice such tricks. If you didn't, this cottage would be overrun with children, would it not?"

Netta's smile faded. She gazed at the hearth, cocking her head as if she could hear the ghostly laughter of all the children who would never play there. "Aye, I suppose it would," she said softly.

"I can pay you." Willow fumbled for the satin purse she'd tucked into her sleeve.

Netta rose from the bed, her face hardening once again to a resentful mask. "You can keep your coins, my lady. I won't do it. "Us far too dangerous a game you play. I've known men who had their wives burned at the stake for less. I'll not help you deceive your husband.

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