“Noble—that part of you. The broken part. It’s moving!” It took every bit of willpower, but he didn’t look, nor did he meet his son’s eyes. Instead he kept his voice calm and level and thought of the effects of the bubonic plague on the human body.

“Gillian, unlock the blasted shackles.” His voice sounded thick with strain.

“But—are you sure all is well? I believe the damage to your…part…is causing a delayed reaction. One moment you’re swelling, and the next you’re deflating. You cannot tell me that is right.”

He kept his eyes closed. He didn’t have the energy to explain the whys and wherefores of male anatomy to her. Not now, when his head was throbbing, his arms were aching, and his foot was on fire.

“The key, Gillian?”

She gave his nether regions one last wary look, as if she wouldn’t be surprised to see that part of him stand up and dance. “I am trying to understand you, Noble, truly I am. If you could just answer my question about what you mean by chaos…”

His head snapped up as he shot her a blistering look. “Will you release me if I do?”

Her eyes widened in innocence. “Of course, my dearest.”

“Then the answer is yes, wife, those little surprises, as you erroneously call them, are what make your life so hectic and chaotic. No other lady of my acquaintance would leap off a moving phaeton in order to comfort a thieving street urchin.”

“But—”

“Nor do I know anyone who has set fire to a house while they attended a ball.”

“That was the merest of accidents—”

“You startled my horses, injuring my tiger.”

“One of them was limping! I was just trying to show you that the horse must have had a rock in its shoe.”

Noble grunted in disbelief. “And the day we became betrothed?”

Gillian’s expression took on a pouting appearance. “That was yet another accident.”

“You wanted me to kiss you. If you had acted with control and indicated such in a discreet manner, I would have been happy to oblige you. The trouble with you, Gillian, is that you indulge yourself in every ludicrous scheme and thought that passes through your head.”

“Noble.”

“If you would learn to deal with things in a calm, organized manner, you would be well rewarded, wife, with serenity and tranquillity.”

“Noble—”

“You are young yet, despite your years, so I will not make a point of your headstrong nature and heedless manner of flinging yourself through life. You do not know better. Your upbringing is to blame, of course. It will be my pleasure to instruct you in the joys of a well-ordered, temperate life.”

“Noble!”

“What?” He was annoyed at her interruption. Didn’t she understand that he was trying to help her organize her life into something satisfactory?

“I am not the one chained naked to my mistress’s bed with a broken man part.”

“It’s not broken!” he bellowed, glaring at her. She returned his look with one of utter disbelief as she stared pointedly at the part of his body in question. Noble felt her heated gaze as if she was touching him.