[He refrains from informing her that he's rather sure she's quite old enough to have kissed many men, but Jaskier is no fool. One does not imply any knowledge of a woman's age unless it has been provided... and the same goes for her level of experience in certain matters.

Right, he gets it. She may actually respect marriage. They all have their quirks.

Permission granted, he helps her out of her coat. One arm, then the other, and looks about for a polite place to hang it. Of course none of this is real, but there's no need to be disrespectful. He finds a hoe hook suitable, hanging his right beside hers. It leaves him only in a pale gold chemise, the ends embroidered with rays of The Sun.

And then, with a single pull, it's off over his head and throw onto the same hook.] You know, it's a rather good thing this barn's already so warm. [He returns to her with a tease of a smile, catching her wrists, then moving gently up her arms.] I'd hate for you to see me when I'm cold. Nipples you could cut a steak with, I swear.