"They are called trunk hose," Lucern informed her. He was still trying to figure out what froufrou meant. It didn't sound complimentary, the way she said it. Unhappily, he did not keep up with modern euphemisms. He really should get out more. "I thought you edited historical romance, too," he said, perhaps a touch peevishly.
"Mostly medieval," she explained. "Renaissance hasn't been that popular." Her lips pursed, then twisted somewhat to the side. "So, what is that… er…"—she waved in the general direction of his groin—"that duck thing?"
Lucern sighed. "It is a codpiece."
"Oh." She nodded slowly, considering the rather exaggerated item.
Lucern peered down and considered it as well. It was huge, a puffed and slashed bag ornamented with several jeweled pins. It was also a tad misshapen from storage and did vaguely resemble a duck. This was obviously an early Renaissance costume. The codpiece had fallen out of favor during Queen Elizabeth's reign.
"I have read about those, but I thought they were supposed to be… er… rounder or something. You're going to hurt yourself. Someone will walk past you, bang into it and—"
"Hey! You two look great!" Chris came out of his room wearing a red and burgundy outfit not unlike Lucern's. His codpiece was a tad more normal, however.
Lucern smiled at the younger man, feeling the tension seep out of him. He hadn't cared for having Kate pick on his costume, and even worse was having her attention focused on his codpiece. Knowing she was staring had made the bit of anatomy it covered stir with interest.
"So"—Chris glanced from one of them to the other—"are we ready to go?"
Kate was positive her breasts were going to pop out of her gown. She was doing her best not to breathe, in order to prevent it from happening, but every time she had to curtsy she also said a little prayer that they stay in place. Fortunately, they did—but each time she straightened it was to find Lucern glaring at every man within looking distance. Kate found it rather amusing. What she didn't find amusing was the way women were staring at Luc's codpiece. The damned thing sparkled and glittered, to jeweled pins catching every passing light. Kate's own eyes had been drawn repeatedly as well. It was damned embarrassing how distracting the thing was. Not that Lucern seemed to notice. If he was aware of the way two thousand women in the room were gawking at his groin, he pretended not to be and walked with pride. She didn't know where he got the courage. Had she walked in wearing sparkling cones on her breasts, she would have been cringing and trying to hide them.
"Wow, what a bash, huh?" Chris commented.
Kate peered around at the entertainment. There were musicians, jesters, dancers and minstrels. It really did resemble how she imagined a ball of old would appear. Her hand tightened on Lucern's arm, and she leaned up to his ear to whisper, "Is this how it really was?"
He hesitated. "Somewhat. Of course, the lighting would have been dimmer. We had only candlelight then, no electricity. The floor would have been covered with rushes. Dogs and rats would have been scavenging for spare bits of food. The smell would have been far less pleasant and—"
"That's okay," Kate interrupted. "I like our ball better."
"Hmm." He nodded.
They found a table and were barely seated when Jodi and several other writers joined them. The conversation was at first dominated by amazement at Lady Barrow's accomplishment. The jesters were amusing, the minstrels played ancient instruments. The dinner, when it was served, was delicious if not quite true Renaissance fare.
Once the plates were cleared away, the dancing began. Lucern murmured that he would be back in a moment, and Kate, presuming he had to go to the men's room, nodded absently, her attention on the dancers swirling around the room. She turned to say something to Jodi, who had taken the seat on Lucern's other side, but paused when she saw Lucern was still there. "I thought you were…"
Her voice trailed away as she noted that his hands were under the table. He appeared to be… doing something. "What… ?" she began in amazement.
"I am caught on something," he said shortly.
Kate blinked, confusion filling her mind. "What do you mean, you're caught on something?" She was imagining… well, it was best she didn't think too long on what she was imagining. She soon learned it was worse than that.
"The tablecloth," he said, ducking slightly to the side in an attempt to see the problem. "One of the pins."
It was all he had to say; Kate got the picture at once. One of the jeweled pins on his codpiece had somehow gotten caught on the tablecloth. Much to her horror, a burst of laughter slipped from her lips.
Lucern wasn't amused. "This isn't funny," he told her grimly. "I have to relieve myself rather urgently. And I can't get up."
"So… you people have to go to the bathroom, too?" Kate asked with interest.
Lucern glared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Where do you get your thoughts?"
"Well," she explained in self-defense, "Bram in his books, never had Dracula relieve himself. I just never thought—"