“What do you know about streetwalkers, Gabby?”

“Very little, and you know it. Since you are aware that I am not experienced in these things, why did you try to make me feel…like that? Indecent? It was not well done of you.”

Ruefulness warred with shock in Quill’s eyes. “Damn it, Gabby,” he managed, “do you always speak whatever is on your mind?”

“Speak the truth and shame the devil,” Gabby said. “As my father maintains.”

“I apologize,” Quill said, feeling his way. “I never wished to make you feel indecent, Gabby. I felt remorseful because…because we will not share a chamber until after my father’s burial.

“Oh, hell and damnation, Gabby, I need to tell you something.” Quill groaned.

Gabby put a hand on his as it lay on the counterpane between them. He stared down for a moment and then interlaced his fingers into hers, holding her hand tightly.

“I can’t make love to you, Gabby,” he said huskily. “I would give the world to fall backward on this bed right now, but I can’t do it.”

There was a pause. And then Gabby said, “Why not?”

Quill laughed shortly. “Why not indeed? I married you under false pretenses, Gabby. You could annul the marriage.” The muscles in his jaw were clenched tight.

Gabby had turned very pale. “Are you unable to…to have relations, Quill?”

“Better that I was,” he said bitterly. “Then it wouldn’t be in front of me, like a carrot before a damned donkey.”

“I don’t understand.”

His fingers were clenched so hard on hers that her hand felt bloodless. “How—why can’t you have relations with me, Quill?” She felt hot, her mind groping stupidly for explanations, none of which were pleasant. Could it be that he didn’t desire her enough to perform? She had heard of that from maids as well. Aye, men couldn’t do their part if the woman didn’t appeal to them.

Quill didn’t answer her. Perhaps he didn’t care to hurt her feelings.

She cleared her throat. “Is it something to do with me, Quill? Because you needn’t tell me if—” She wanted to know and she didn’t want to know. She felt as if her heart were breaking right in two, a blinding pain in her chest. It seemed her father was right when he thanked God for giving him a man who would take his daughter to wife sight unseen.

“It has nothing to do with you,” Quill said heavily. “I tried to tell you before we wed, Gabby. When I was injured in that accident, I didn’t completely heal.”

“Oh,” Gabby breathed.

“I am still functional,” he said, his tone bitterly dry. “But there are consequences each time I make love.”

“Consequences?” Gabby echoed. Against all odds, her heart was lightening.

“Have you ever heard of a migraine, Gabby? Some people refer to it as a megrim.”