” It wasn’t watching which shamed Bess, it was he never took to bed. For the bedchamber was where she’d controlled and no matter the temperature...of the water or the strength of the soap, shame’s seldom washed away. Wednesday evenings Bess slowly, deliberately stripped. First gown, then stockings, finally lace bra and panties. Leading him by the hand she’d enter her marbled tiled bathroom, jasmine scented candles and soft music setting the mood. He’d never say a word while removing his. Her ruined skirt had been replaced by ungainly curtain material held up by a length of rope, which she now untied. The cloth dropped to the ground, revealing her pale legs and buttocks. She was very slim but muscular, the body of a dancer. She reached the shore, removed her soft leather vest, lifted her ivory-colored blouse over her head, and hung both from a nearby tree branch.His concentration relaxed now that the fire was crackling happily in front of him, Grimbol stretched his arms and. More

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