Christiana glanced around with confusion at that cry and then followed Grace’s gaze over her body, her own eyebrows rose slightly as she saw that her body bore several dark red marks and even a faint bruise or two. She didn’t recall how she’d got them and certainly hadn’t felt any pain at the time. While Richard had been cruel and cold this last year, she didn’t think he’d marked her deliberately last night, but the activities had got very vigorous at times and she knew she’d scored his back more than once during their more passionate moments.

“ ’Tis all right.” Christiana turned back to her washing. “They do not hurt.”

Grace was silent for a moment and Christiana could almost hear the rant the maid wanted to let loose. Much to her relief, however, she didn’t but returned to the bed, taking out her anger by almost ripping the bedsheets from it, no doubt imagining it was Richard and she was ripping his flesh off.

Grace had been her mother’s lady’s maid before her and had become Christiana’s on her mother’s death. She had watched her grow up and had a great deal of affection for her, an affection that was returned. She also had something of a temper.

Both women were silent as Grace helped her dress. Confused and miserable herself, Christiana did nothing to end it, but was grateful to escape the room once she was dressed and ready. She wasn’t exactly eager to have the conversation she knew was coming with Langley, however, so didn’t rush downstairs. Unfortunately, despite dragging her feet, she did eventually arrive at the parlor, where Langley paced the floor as he waited. He stopped the moment she entered the room though and his first word was, “Well?”

Christiana felt her lips twitch into a grimace, and then turned back and closed the parlor door. It wasn’t quite the done thing for a married woman to be in a room alone with a man who wasn’t her husband and have the door closed. But it did seem smarter than leaving it open so that anyone passing might hear their conversation. Turning back to the room, she moved to sit primly in a chair and then just sat there, not sure what to say or how to start.

“Well?” Langley repeated, sitting on the corner of the couch. “Does he have the birthmark?”

Christiana felt her lips twist and lowered her head. After all that had happened last night she should be able to say yes or no, however she just wasn’t sure. She wished she’d taken a closer look, or thought to try again later, but once passion had overcome her the last thing she’d cared about was getting a look at his bottom. Squeezing it with her hands to urge him on, and digging her heels into it as he drove his body into hers, yes, but look at it? It just hadn’t been high on her list of priorities as he’d kissed and caressed, kneaded and touched, buried his face between her legs and drove her to, and then over the edge of madness before plunging his body into hers and driving her there again, and again, and—