He turned and asked for a report from the tutor. Once completed, he spoke at length to his son about his expected behavior with his new stepmother and inquired after the boy’s pursuits. Nick shrugged at the questions and looked impassively back at his father. Noble had no way of knowing, but the look was identical to the one he himself affected in public. Rogerson noticed, however, and, genuinely fond of both his charge and his employer, sent up a prayer of hope that the new countess would be able to reach the father and son where others had failed.

“How did you find your rooms?” Noble asked his wife a short while later, when the two were seated in front of the library fire, a cold repast spread before them.

“I turned right at the top of the stairs,” Gillian replied.

The Black Earl looked up from where he was slicing ham. “That is an old chestnut, madam.”

Gillian smiled. “I know, but I couldn’t help myself. Truly, my lord, the rooms…well, to be honest, I clash with them.”

One delectable eyebrow went up. Gillian’s fingers tingled with the desire to smooth back the hair that fell over his brow and brush the satiny eyebrow.

“How so?”

“They’re pink, my lord.”

“Noble.”

“They’re pink, Noble. Very pink. I look terrible against pink.”

Noble carved a slice of duck and added it to her plate. “Gillian, you are now the Countess of Weston, mistress of this house and three others. If something displeases you, you may change it.”

“Truly? Anything?”

Noble nodded. “Within reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Gillian agreed. Fortunately for his peace of mind, her husband was busy with his own plate and didn’t see the speculative look in his wife’s eyes.

Supper, a quick tour through the house, and a visit to the stable to settle the dogs passed the remaining evening hours quickly. With some surprise, Gillian found herself alone in her repulsively pink bedchamber, dressed in her best night rail and a rather worn dressing gown, awaiting the appearance of her husband. She was mildly disconcerted by the pitying look her newly assigned maid had given her as she left, but her anticipation of the day’s culmination kept her from worrying about it too much. She just hoped she wouldn’t do anything to hurt Noble before he had a chance to explain everything to her.

“Woolgathering again, my dear?”

Gillian jumped a foot and spun around to see her husband close the connecting door. He was dressed in a rich blue velvet dressing gown that didn’t quite go to his ankles. Gillian stared at his feet. They were as bare as hers.

“Um. Woolgathering. Yes. Your feet are naked.”

“So are yours.” Noble took her hands in his and gently pulled her forward until she was leaning against his chest. “You are allowed to be frightened, my dear, given the circumstances. I give you my word that I will do my best not to hurt you, but I’m afraid there will be a certain discomfort the first time.”