I snorted. “I am not so much better as a man, either.”
She looked offended. “You are not ill-favored.” She traced a finger down the musculature of my chest speculatively. “The other day, in the washing courts, some were saying you were the best thing to, come out of the stables since Burrich. I think it is your hair. It is not near as coarse as most Buck men.” She twined strands of it through her fingers.
“Burrich!” I said with a snort. “You cannot tell me he is favored among the women!”
She quirked a brow at me. “And why not? He is a very well-made man, and clean and mannered besides. He has good teeth, and such eyes! His dark humors are daunting, but not a few would like to try their hands at lightening those. The washing maids agreed that day that were he to turn up in their sheets, they would not hurry to shake him out.”
“But that is not likely to happen,” I pointed out.
“No,” she agreed pensively. “That was another thing they agreed on. Only one claimed to have ever had him, and she admitted he was very drunk at the time. At a Springfest, I believe she said.” Molly glanced at me, then laughed aloud at the incredulous look on my face. “She said,” Molly went on teasingly, “ `He has used his time well amongst the stallions to learn their ways. I carried the mark of his teeth on my shoulders for a week.’ “
“That cannot be,” I declared. My ears burned for Burrich’s sake. “He would not mistreat a woman, no matter how drunk he was.”
“Silly boy!” Molly shook her head over me as her nimble fingers set to braiding her hair up again. “No one said she was mistreated.” She glanced at me coyly. “Or displeased.”