But before that, she had something else to say. “You made a visit to my shop.”

He darted a glance to Matthew before once more meeting her gaze. “Yes, my lady.”

She squeezed Matthew’s arm as she searched his beloved face. “The book of Shakespeare’s plays was from you,” she said softly, in awe, delighted that her husband blushed. “Wherever did you find it?”

“In our library.”

Our. Everything with him had become our. Although it hadn’t been our at the time. “Why give it to me?”

“I thought it would find a place in your heart.” She recalled telling him that she didn’t worry about people returning books for that reason. “And it just seemed it should belong to you. You’re going to take delight in our library.”

She most certainly did. He escorted her to the grand room right after she was introduced to all the servants who had been lined up in the foyer waiting to meet the new Countess of Rosemont. Books, books, books. Everywhere she looked. Walls of books. Floors of books.

“Have you any idea how many are here?” she asked.

“No. We should probably have them catalogued.”

“Indeed. I’ll get the staff started on it immediately.”

Snaking his arm around her waist, he drew her near. “Not until after we return from our wedding trip.”

They were spending the night here. Tomorrow they would leave for Calais.

He lowered his mouth to hers, and she was glad he’d passed his hat and gloves off to Jenkins, so her fingers had the freedom to muss his hair without running into any obstacles. While she’d been imagining them settled comfortably into one of the various seating nooks in this room and reading in the evening, she’d also begun considering how lovely it would be to make love among the books. On the desk, on the various settees, standing against a shelf, her fingers caressing leather spines while he caused wild sensations to riot through her.

Dragging his mouth along her throat, he growled low. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself. I’m going to peel off your clothes layer by layer—”

“Oh yes.” Her words released on a moan seemed to incite him further.

“I’m going to lick every inch of your skin.”

“And I yours.”

“Every inch?”

“Every inch.”

With a tortured-sounding groan, he pressed his forehead to hers. “I wonder if we have time to go upstairs before breakfast.”

Family and close friends would soon be arriving for the wedding breakfast. That list had been small. They couldn’t prevent anyone and everyone from attending the church ceremony, but Fancy had wanted what followed to be more intimate, so her mum would be comfortable in the surroundings. “Will you be able to put me back together, so I don’t look as though I’ve been ravished?”