Helen took Judith by the hand. “Come along, little one. We will practice our counting another time.”

Judith rolled her eyes at her mother before turning to Charles and saying, “Mama said it's high time you got married.”

“Judith!” Helen exclaimed, turning quite pink.

“Well, you did. You said he controls with too many women, and—”

“Judith!” Helen fairly shouted, grabbing her by the hand. “This is not the time.”

“It's all right,” Ellie said quickly. “She meant no harm.”

Helen looked as if she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. She tugged on Judith's arm, saying, “I believe our newlyweds would like a moment alone. I shall show everyone to the dining room for the wedding breakfast.”

As Helen hurried the guests from the room, Ellie and Charles heard Judith chirp, “Claire, what is a loose woman?”

“Judith, you are a pest,” was Claire's reply.

“Does she fall apart? Are her arms and legs not screwed in tight enough?”

Ellie wasn't certain whether she should laugh or cry.

“I'm sorry about that,” Charles said quietly once the room was empty.

“It was nothing.”

“A bride shouldn't be subjected to stories of her new husband's peccadilloes on her wedding day.”

Ellie shrugged. “It's not so dreadful coming from the mouth of a six-year-old. Although I imagine she meant that you consort with women.”

“I can assure you I contort with no one.”

Ellie actually chuckled.

Charles looked down at the woman who was now his wife and felt an inexplicable sense of pride blossoming within him. The events of the morning could not have been anything but overwhelming for her, and yet she held herself with grace and dignity. He had chosen well. “I'm glad you didn't cover your hair,” he murmured.

He chuckled as one of her hands flew to her head. “I can't imagine why you asked me not to,” she said nervously.

He reached out and touched a lock of hair that had escaped her coiffure and curled along the base of her throat. “Can't you?”

She didn't answer and he applied pressure to her shoulder until she began to sway toward him, her eyes beginning to glaze over with desire. Charles felt a burst of triumph as he realized that seducing his wife wasn't going to be nearly as difficult as he'd anticipated.

His body quickened, and he leaned down to kiss her, to run his hands through that glorious red-gold hair of hers, and then…

She pulled away.

Just like that.

Charles swore under his breath.

“This isn't such a good idea, my lord,” she said, looking damnably sure of what she was saying.

“Call me Charles,” he bit out.

“Not when you look like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like—oh, I don't know. Rather imperious.” She blinked. “Actually, you look as if you're in pain.”

“I am in pain,” he snapped.

She took a step back. “Oh. I'm terribly sorry. Do you still ache from the curricle accident? Or is it your ankle? I noticed you still have a tiny limp.”