“Harry,” Isolde Said Warningly
wait for it to burn itself out- undoubtedly he had been
- I have and it’s not fun.
- his loins captivated by her sheer roundness
- with an hour or so to kill
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“Harry,” Isolde said warningly, “ignore the jealousy that enflames your heart and wait for it to burn itself out. The General has always performed his duties well and faithfully, even before he achieved his rank.”
Her husband spluttered. “I’m certain he had been biding his time, waiting for his chance with you.”
“Undoubtedly he had been.” Isolde laid her hand on his froggy cheek. “And if you hadn’t been so seasick you would have been present for our wedding. It’s certainly not the General’s fault he was called upon to act as your proxy. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”
Harry’s broad face turned bright red. He snorted through his nose. “Have you ever vomited during a marriage ceremony, Isolde? I have and it’s not fun. Not fun at all!”
Isolde gasped. “You’ve been married before?”
“It didn’t count,” Harry said, paling. “Because of the vomiting. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how strict Contrarian law is about such things. If the groom vomits, the marriage is annulled, and due to double jeopardy it can never be redone. The groom’s brother or uncle must step in and wed the bride, and the vomiting groom may never bed her, even if his loins, captivated by her sheer roundness, are on the point of bursting.”
While this minor soap opera played out mere feet from us, Fleur began to move atop me again, at the stately pace of someone with an hour or so to kill. The Frenchman had not reacted as she had anticipated, most likely due to the distraction Isolde and Harry provided. Was that part of her plan? I tried to ask her, without using words.
bonus points for using them in order