From a challenge by Maudlinrose, featuring the word 'stallion'.
Lord Knave, Virgin Bride
The new Lady Montjoy drummed her fingers on the coverlet. She looked over at the chair over which her wedding gown was draped, a cascade of gold embroidery over ivory silk. It was a beautiful wedding- their mothers both in tears, her best girlfriends supportive, then excited, then spectacularly drunk. There had been a few reporters outside the church, there to write about the woman who had finally tied down the ‘wild stallion’ of the aristocracy.
She knew about his past. It hadn’t much bothered her, because she had not understood, until now, what it meant.
When the last of the groomsmen had left (with… was that one or two of her bridesmaids?), Lord Montjoy told her how privileged he felt as her husband and how much he loved her. Then he had dropped the bombshell. One of his previous partners had, as he put it, left an unpleasant reminder of their time together. Until it was cleared up- which it would be, the doctors said, after another course of antibiotics- they couldn’t consummate the marriage.
She had been very understanding, after all, she loved him, and he didn’t want to hurt her. But this whole abstinence thing really sucked.