“Shhh,” he murmured against her mouth. “Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just feel.”

“My darling Lucy.” He panted against her ear, and then his teeth scraped her earlobe. “I love you,” he whispered. “Don’t ever leave me.”

“She opened her mouth wide in a silent scream and his release caught him, hard and fast as he kissed her openmouthed. He tore his mouth from hers and shouted his triumph. She was his, now and forevermore, until the end of time, until the seas ran dry and man no longer roamed the earth, amen.His and only his.She slumped against him, the scent of their passion musky in the night air.“Sleep,” he murmured to her, and held her against himself, his cock still buried deep.She was caught and he had no intention of ever letting her go.”

“As I said, I don’t expect you to understand—”“And I don’t,” he cut in. “Ye ask how I can live a life that I know will end with the hangman’s noose. Well, at least I am alive. Ye might as well have climbed inside yer husband’s coffin and let yerself be buried with his corpse.”Her hand flashed out before she’d thought about it, the smack against his cheek loud in the little courtyard.Silence had her eyes locked with Michael’s, her chest rising and falling swiftly, but she was aware that Bert and Harry had looked up. Even Mary and Lad had paused in their play.Without taking his gaze from hers, Michael reached out and grasped her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed the center of her palm.He looked at her, her hand still at his lips. “Don’t take to yer grave afore yer time, Silence, m’love.”

“This is my social face,” he said lightly. “Don’t confuse it with the animal beneath.”

“A smile flickered across Coral’s face. “Have you ever noticed that once you have had a taste of certain sweets—raspberry trifle is my own despair—it is quite impossible not to think, not to want, not to crave until you have taken another bite?” “Lord Swartingham is not a raspberry trifle.” “No, more of a dark chocolate mousse, I should think,” Coral murmured. “And,” Anna continued as if she hadn’t heard the interruption, “I don’t need another bite, uh,night of him.”

“She heard him close the door. “I was going to impress you with my romantic eloquence, of course. I’d thought to wax philosophical about the beauty of your brow.”Lucy blinked. “My brow?”“Mmm. Have I told you that your brow intimidates me?” She felt his warmth at her back as he moved behind her, but he didn’t touch her. “It’s so smooth and white and broad, and ends with your straight, knowing eyebrows, like a statue of Athena pronouncing judgment. If the warrior goddess had a brow like yours, it is no wonder the ancients worshiped and feared her.”“Blather,” she murmured.“Blather, indeed. Blather is all I am, after all.”She frowned and turned to contradict him, but he moved with her so that she couldn’t quite catch sight of his face.“I am the duke of nonsense,” he whispered in her ear. “The king of farce, the emperor of emptiness.”Did he really see himself so? “But—”“Blathering is what I do best,” he said, still unseen. “I’d like to blather about your golden eyes and ruby lips.”“Simon—”“The perfect curve of your cheek,” he murmured close.She gasped as his breath stirred the hair at her neck. He was distracting her with lovemaking. And it was working. “What a lot of talk.”“I do talk too much. It’s a weakness you’ll have to bear in your husband.” His voice was next to her ear. “But I’d have to spend quite a bit of time outlining the shape of your mouth, itssoftness and the warmth within.-Simon to Lucy on their wedding night.”