To his horror, Patrick felt his eyes fill with tears. Ruthlessly he toppled his wife backward, his mouth taking hers with a savage ferocity. As always, passion flared between them, melting Sophie’s bones, turning her legs to water. Patrick gentled his mouth.

“It’s not hard to know why I love you, Sophie. You are lovable.”

“Mmmm,” his wife replied. She ran her hands through his wild curls and then arched up to kiss him again.

Their eyes met with a silent promise. “I’m sorry, Sophie,” Patrick said, his voice husky. “I was jealous … and then when you became pregnant, I was so afraid—and I’m not used to being afraid. I was furious at you, and terrified for you. All I could think of was to stay away from you.”

Sophie kissed him, her lips a silent pardon. For a moment they just stayed there, Patrick’s large hands cupping his wife’s delicate face as he stared down at her.

“I’ll never stay away from you again, Sophie.” The most important vow of Patrick’s life arose from the deepest part of his heart. “Not in my body—or spirit.”

Sophie’s lips were whisper soft on his. “If you do I’ll scream at you like a fishwife. How’s that for a bargain?”

Patrick nipped her lip. “I’ll risk it,” he said. “Although I happen to know that you are entirely too intelligent to make a comfortable wife.”

Sophie grinned up at him. “Jealous of my success with Madeleine, are you? My next project,” she whispered against his lips, “is to make the Duke of Gisle into a proper duke.”

“Oh yes?” Patrick kissed her again. “What’s the matter with the Duke of Gisle?”

“He has no sense of his own countenance,” Sophie said decisively. “His carriage is lined with simple blue silk, without a blazon to be seen. He is rarely rude to his underlings, and he doesn’t even have a personal snuff mixture.”

“I hate snuff, Sophie!”

“It doesn’t matter.” She laughed. “All proper dukes have a mixture prominently displayed in the shops, which no one else is allowed to buy.”

“I think the problem is really with the duchess,” Patrick said, running his hand down Sophie’s body. She shivered.

“I’ve heard that the duchess is a master at etiquette,” Sophie whispered. “I heard she made a horse trainer’s daughter into a countess.”

“The problem is that the duchess has been fibbing to the duke,” Patrick said.

There was just a hint of seriousness in his eyes, enough to make Sophie suddenly alert. She shook her head. “I couldn’t tell you about Madeleine, Patrick.”

“It’s not that,” he said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair until it stood straight up. “Do you remember telling me about Kotzebue’s travels in Siberia, Sophie?”

Her eyes remained puzzled as she propped herself up on both elbows.