“Nonsense,” Quill said. “She’s more likely to applaud. She expects me to produce an heir, in case you didn’t notice this afternoon.”

Quill eased Gabby’s dress forward and stood her up. A pool of black fabric fell to the floor. He twirled her about and started unlacing her corset.

Gabby stared numbly at the embroidered coverlet. “I believe this is a mistake. How are you going to travel to Southampton?”

“Since Peter will be accompanying Mother and Lady Sylvia to the Continent, there is no particular need for me to travel with them.”

“What about your headache?”

There was no answer. Her corset fell forward and joined her gown on the floor. Under it Gabby wore only a light chemise.

Quill turned her around slowly. The chemise was laced to the waist and then fell in pleats to the floor. He let his hands glide from her shoulders, past her short sleeves, and down her bare arms.

His eyes were a decadent shade of green. Even with Gabby’s inexperience, she could read desire in them. “I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that,” she whispered.

“I can’t help it. You’re mine now, and you’re beautiful.” His hands moved to her waist.

“I would rather not do this at the moment,” Gabby said clearly. “I don’t feel it is a proper time or place.”

“Mmmm,” Quill replied. He was rubbing his thumbs over her nipples in a manner that made Gabby feel hot and terrified at once.

“Quill, are you listening to me?” Gabby tried to ignore the sensations in her body, especially those below her waist.

Without answering, Quill maneuvered her to the bed and pushed her backward. Then his knee nudged her legs open—and the knee touched her.

“Quill!”

“I’m listening,” he said lazily. He bent and licked her nipple just as he had before, in Bath, right through her chemise.

Gabby took a deep breath, trying to control a rising sense of panic. What was there to be so afraid of? Pain, for one thing. The thought gave her resolution and she pushed at his shoulders, trying to get him away from her breast. He had to stop doing that; he was making it hard to think rationally.

Then, without warning, Quill abandoned one breast and moved to the other, sucking it into his mouth. A large hand started roughly caressing the wet nipple. To Gabby’s shame, a guttural sound burst from her throat.

The shock gave her a burst of strength. “No!” She squirmed sideways so quickly that Quill let go of her in surprise, and she lurched forward off the bed.

“I do not approve of this,” Gabby said, trying hard to ignore the throbbing sense in her lower body. “We haven’t discussed it—”