"Hold it just one moment, my lovely one. If we're going to do this, then I think we should do it properly, as befits someone with your refinement and good taste..."
Not that he was an expert on this or anything, but a holding pen for livestock was hardly the place for a makeover. Come on. Really. It just wasn't. There was a tent nearby, a sort of shaded place with a bucket of water, and a dipper for merchants or thirsty shoppers to drink from. That might do...
He led her over to it and bowed. Extravagantly. She seemed to need that sort of big gesture. Now, something for her to sit on...there was no way he could reach to help her like she wanted if she was still standing up!
He wore a lot less clothing when he came south. It was almost like being in his undies all the time - and yeah, that thought had entertained him quite a lot over the years! No layers, no nothing, just the rough linen shirt that was usually a second layer wedged between skintight wool and a thick felted coat, tied with another strip of linen for a belt. He whipped it off and spread it in a particularly shaded spot.
In the absence of anything better, it would have to do.
"Kneel down on this please, love...can someone here magic us up a mirror? Anyone? Aha, thank you...Bueller, you said your name was?"
He settled in behind her to start stripping away the beads.
