“Do you not value my…my…longings for your touch?” Yes, that was good. Longings. It would make him feel that she was pining for him. That she was, was neither here nor there.

“Er…yes, of course, but that is not what I—”

“Indeed, I was not threatening you, my lord. As for the other—’tis the truth I would be lonely, but I would never seek the arms of another man. I wish only to be with my husband.”

She hoped he hadn’t heard the tremble in her voice as she spoke. The urge to throw herself on him and smother him with kisses until she eased the pain evident in his eyes was almost overwhelming. Although admittedly such an inclination was tempered with a healthy dose of self-pity. She hurt too. The fact that he loved Elizabeth so deeply that he could not welcome her into his life pierced her deeply, but she consoled herself with the knowledge that he needed a bit of time before he would realize just what a lucky man he was to have married her. She’d be patient. A week or two ought to be enough to bring him around.

“I doubt that a week or two will be sufficient for anything concerning you, my dear, but I am not an unreasonable man. You may stay for a fortnight,” he said grudgingly, reclaiming his hand and turning his attention to his breakfast. “The Season will be over by then, and at that time you will return to Nethercote.”

She blushed over her Unfortunate Habit but had other things to worry about than her tendency to speak every thought. It was on her lips to ask about his plans in a fortnight, but she bit the words back and muttered a soft statement of appreciation instead.

“About last night, Noble…”

A dull red flush washed over her husband’s face at her words.

“I wish to discuss what happened last night, if I might. I am not sure I understand…”

“Dickon, you may leave that,” Noble ordered, a frown playing across his manly brow. Gillian watched as the footman placed a fresh platter of sirloin before the earl, then left them alone again.

“I would rather you did not discuss our…er…evening activities in front of the servants, my dear. Now, as to your questions, I’m sure you have several about what we did last evening, it being…uh…new to you. I’m sure you were as surprised by your actions as I was, stimulating and enjoyable though they were.”

“Well, I’m not as new to it as you might think,” she interrupted, and heaped a spoon of marmalade on her toasted bread. “I have done it before, you know.”

Noble felt as if someone had slapped him in the face with a wet fish. A salmon, perhaps. Or a very large flounder. He gaped at her. “I beg your pardon? Did you just say you had done it before?”

“Oh yes, once or twice. My uncle used to say I was a particularly wicked girl to do so, but I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes I just had to, you know. It feels so different, so…so…oh, I don’t know how to describe it. I suppose I didn’t have to, as you well know the feeling.”