Quill got up and walked to the window and stood with his back to Gabby. It was evening, and fingers of yellow light fell from the house windows. Quill noted without thinking that the rosebushes had not been properly pruned. “It would be understandable if you wished to annul the marriage, Gabby, now that you’ve had time to consider the consequences.”

To Gabby, his voice sounded indifferent.

“To be honest, I am not concerned about whether or not I produce an heir,” her husband continued. “No one will blink an eye if you annul the marriage. I could instruct Jennings to start the proceedings immediately.”

When there was no reply, he turned around, reluctantly.

Gabby was glowering at him.

“Well?” He kept his tone flat and polite. “This needn’t be an unpleasant conversation, Gabby. We are friends, as you have said in the past.”

“In that case, I would request that you return to your chair and do not stalk around the room in that melodramatic fashion.” Gabby stuck her chin in the air. “We are going to have a rational conversation, Erskine Matthew Claudius!”

Quill smiled without humor. “If you were listening to the will that closely, you must have noted that my father believed my injuries would prevent the conception of children.” But he walked over and sat down. His heart felt like a cold lump in his chest.

“When I said we needed a rational discussion, I simply meant that…before we …”

Quill waited politely. He wasn’t going to make it any easier for her, clearly.

“Oh, I can’t say these things aloud,” Gabby cried in frustration.

Before Quill could move, she jumped up and sat down on his lap, wrapping one of her arms around his neck.

She felt the surprise throughout his body, but then he relaxed against the back of the chair. Gabby leaned against his shoulder. From here she couldn’t see his face, and it was considerably easier to speak.

“First, I should like you to stop making corkbrained suggestions regarding annulment,” she said. “While I may well wish to murder you at some date in the future given your tendency to jump to absurd conclusions, I have been anticipating this—” She broke off and added, crossly, “You’re not stupid, Quill, so don’t talk drivel.

“Second, I should like to point out that if we consummate our marriage tonight, there is a good possibility that you will not be able to accompany your mother to Southampton. Third—” She couldn’t remember exactly what her third point had been. He smelled wonderful, her husband. He had an indefinable masculine scent overlaid by soap and clean-pressed linen. “Third,” she said hastily, “I think that if our marriage is to be a success, we need to come to an understanding.”