“If you say so.” He rolled her on her side, molding himself around her like spoons in a drawer. “Go to sleep now.”

Petra closed her eyes, feeling his breathing deepen as he held her close. Her last waking thought was the hope that she wasn’t about to tear this wonderful closeness apart.

* * *

“My lord, may I have a word?”

Guy, on his way out of the door the following morning, paused and tried to disguise his annoyance at his secretary’s hesitant yet always impossible to ignore pleading tone. “Make it quick, Freddie. I have things to do this morning.”

“Yes, my lord. It’s just something I thought I should bring to your attention.” Freddie stepped back, gesturing to the door to the office.

Guy sighed. Obviously it was not going to be a quick word if it couldn’t be had in the hall. He turned aside and went into the office. “Well, Freddie, what’s so important?”

“Well, I know you’ve been taking an interest in the activities of the Women’s Social and Political Union, sir,” Freddie began. “I know you’ve been to several meetings recently at Westminster about the issue of universal suffrage.”

“Yes, so what?” Guy’s tone sharpened. He hadn’t involved his secretary in his interest in the movement’s doings. It fell too close to home with his wife’s open involvement in the Union to be discussed objectively.

“I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, my lord . . .”

“Oh, cut to the chase, Freddie, for God’s sake,” he exclaimed. “I don’t have all day.”

“Well, I heard that there are plans for a large march on Westminster.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Guy said, but with an acute sense that something unpleasant was in the offing.

“As I understand it, my lord, this time the marchers intend to enter Parliament, to enter St. Stephen’s Hall with their petition.”

“What?”

“I have it on very good authority, sir. And as I believe Lady Ashton—”

“My wife has nothing to do with this,” Guy interrupted fiercely. “And her affairs are no concern of yours.”

Freddie looked stricken as he realized his faux pas. “No, my lord . . . of course not. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.”

Guy frowned. He was seriously put out that his staff had obviously discussed his wife’s annoying commitment to such a contentious political issue. He didn’t want to discuss it further but he needed information. “When is this march to take place?”

“I believe soon. I can confirm the exact date with my source, but it’s definitely to be within the next several weeks,” Freddie told him, looking increasingly uncomfortable. He was only doing what he thought was his business but he had the unmistakable impression that Lord Ashton was far from appreciative.