"You." She trembled when his hand grazed her breast and the truth spilled from her lips. "Because I love you, Marcus."

"Then love me now, sweetheart."

A pang sliced into her heart. "But do you love-?"

"No talking now, sweetheart," he commanded.

She knew she should insist he answer her, but the pang became pleasure as he drew her into the enchantment once again.

Fifteen.

Rain splattered against the roof as Regina woke. Although it had been raining fitfully for the past four days, she smiled. She could not miss the warmth of the sun when she had Marcus's kisses to warm her very soul. When they had been sent to the dowager cottage nearly a month ago, she could not have guessed they would find such contentment.

Looking across the bed, she realized she was alone. Over the crackling of the flames on the hearth below, she could hear Marcus walking about as he prepared breakfast. Her smile widened. Thank goodness he had not been averse to cooking for them. Otherwise, she feared, they would have starved.

This experience had convinced her she was right to have no more inclination to learn housewifely skills than before. Her single attempt at sweeping had been a near disaster. She did not like doing things she could not do well. Once they returned to London, the staff of the duke's household would a.s.sume the tasks that were necessary to keep the house running smoothly. She had more of an appreciation for their work and diligence than ever before, but had no interest in sharing those ch.o.r.es.

Slipping her white wrapper over her shoulders, she settled her arms in the sleeves as she came down the stairs. The scent of fresh eggs frying greeted her, but it was Marcus's arms that welcomed her.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he said, brushing her tangled hair back from her face.

She locked her hands behind his neck and smiled as he grazed her mouth with a kiss that recalled last night's pa.s.sion and offered the promise of more. "Good morning," she answered, a lilt in her voice.

"You look as if you slept well."

"Really?" She tickled the skin behind his ear until he pushed her fingers aside. With a laugh, she said, "I did not sleep very much."

"Then"-he kissed her again-"the lack of sleep looks lovely on you."

The crackling of grease sent him back to his cooking. She followed as far as the table. Sitting, she asked, "Where did you get eggs?"

"I stole them."

"You stole them?"

He laughed as he spooned some of the eggs onto a plate and put it in front of her. "Are you surprised because you didn't think the son of a duke would stoop to larceny?"

"I honestly did not think you could sneak in and out without alerting someone." Taking a bite, she smiled. "I hope you intend to repay the farmer whose henhouse is a few eggs leaner."

"This farmer can afford to give us these eggs." He served himself and sat across from her.

"How do you know?"

"Because I stole these from one of the coops at Attleby Court."

When he laughed, she shook her head and chuckled. "You are a greater widgeon than I had thought, Marcus. What if you had been seen?"

"I have been skulking about Attleby Court all my life. I know ways about the gardens which I suspect even the gardeners do not know." Scooping up a forkful of eggs, he smiled. "I shall take you there if you wish."

"Today?"

He glanced at the windows where rain was carving streams along the uneven gla.s.s. "On a drier day. Out in that storm once is enough."

Regina's reply was halted by a knock at the door.

Her fork dropped to the floor with an ear-wrenching clatter. "Who-?"

She jumped up and went to the shelf where the pistols were stored. Taking them down, she checked to be sure they were loaded.

"Wait!" Marcus commanded in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"If one of the Dey's agents-"

He snapped, "Don't you think they would have rushed in here by now? I cannot imagine them knocking."

"Then whom could it be? We are not holding an at-home today."

"No." His lips twitched.

The rapping came again more anxiously, followed by a shout. "My lord?"

Botheration flashed across Marcus's face. Racing to the door, he threw it open. "Andrews? What are you doing here?"

Regina drew her wrapper more closely around her as Marcus opened the door wider to reveal his valet. The lanky man brushed rain from his soaked shoulders. Clamping her lips closed, Regina stood straighter as she set the pistol on the table. There could be only one reason Marcus's valet was here-to bring news. She hoped it was good news, but must be prepared if it was not.

"My lord, how good it is to see you!" cried Andrews. "I cannot tell you how odd it seems to be in Town without you. My hands are idle half the day, and each day is like a century."

"Andrews, you are babbling like a prattle-box," grumbled Marcus as he peeked around the door before shutting it. He glanced at Regina and winked.

She relaxed slightly. Although she wished to commend him for his good sense in checking to see if Andrews had been followed, she doubted if he had scanned every shadow. The men who sought her would not be standing openly in the cottage's ruined garden.

"Are you hungry, Andrews?" she asked. "There are more eggs in the pan."

"You have cooked breakfast, my lady?" asked the valet, his eyes bulging.

"Lord Daniston is our cook." She motioned for Andrews to fold his thin form and sit. "He is surprisingly competent, especially with stolen eggs."

"Compared with Lady Daniston," Marcus added.

"Stolen eggs?" choked Andrews.

"Eat up, man," Marcus said, sc.r.a.ping the last of the eggs onto a plate and setting it in front of his valet.

Andrews's eyes protruded even more as he stared at the food.

"Eat up," Marcus repeated. "After all, the hens will not take them back now."

"But, my lord-"

"Andrews," Regina said, taking pity on the poor valet, "Lord Daniston took them from the coops at Attleby Court."

"Attleby Court?" His skinny shoulders sagged. "This is good to hear, my lady, right good to hear!"

Marcus sat and asked, "Why are you here, Andrews? Is something wrong with Fisher? I ..." A guilty look crossed his face as he avoided Regina's eyes.

She wondered why she had not guessed that Mr. Fisher had been Marcus's courier. It made complete sense. Mr. Fisher was a trusted friend, but few people in London knew of his tenuous affiliation with the Whyte family.

Andrews held out a sealed letter. "From Her Grace, my lord."

Opening the page, Marcus leaned forward to read the tiny scrawling of his grandmother's handwriting. Regina unabashedly read over his shoulder.

Dear Marcus and Regina, How we have missed you! The house seems so empty without you. Thank goodness I have Elayne Morrissey to keep me company. Your father, Marcus, has barely put his toe in this house since you left. I have never known him to spend so much time at Brooks's, but I suspect it might have something to do with making Mr. Fisher a member. The two are completely in each other's pockets.

I have had a difficult time contriving stories to convince our neighbors that you are only out of Town for a visit with friends in gra.s.sville. Lady Longmont has been most disagreeable. I ...

Marcus dropped the page before Regina could finish reading the last few lines. Not that she cared. If the dowager d.u.c.h.ess wrote as she spoke, it would take several pages before she reached the gist of her message.

Sure enough on the last page of the long letter, the dowager d.u.c.h.ess had penned: So I think you shall find it safe to come back to Town at this time. Mayhap you will have to leave right after the wedding ceremony, but we should delay that ceremony no longer. I am sending Andrews to you. He will come with a carriage, but I shall instruct him to leave the coachman and carriage some distance from you.

Do hurry home, children. I have missed having you here to fill my ears with your sweet words.

Regina laughed. "Sweet words? I doubt if we said many, Marcus."

"Grandmother hears only what she wants to hear."

"And says exactly what she wants to say."

He stacked the pages together. "A trait the rest of us would be wise to emulate ... occasionally." He glanced up when Andrews set himself on his feet and began to clear the table. "You don't need to do that, Andrews."

"Allow me, my lord. Idle hands-"

"Spare me the dowager d.u.c.h.ess's truisms." Marcus gave a groan as he stood. "Dash it! I have to own that I have not missed those."

Regina laughed as she went to the stairs. "Let me get properly dressed before we make plans to return to Town."

Catching her hand, Marcus drew her arm up around his shoulder. She smiled up at him, delighted to be within the curve of his arm. He brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek as he asked, "You do wish to get married again, don't you?"

"Yes," she whispered, not caring that Andrews was privy to this most private conversation. "A real wedding this time." She took a deep breath, then added, "And a real marriage."

"I agree." He smiled as he brushed his hand against her cheek. "It is time to stop hiding like rabbits in a hedgerow and get back to our customary lives."

"Having a brangle every day?"

"Undoubtedly."

She stepped up onto the first riser, then turned. "I do wonder if this is wise."

"Going back to Town?"

"No, having such a public ceremony. Although the Dey's agents are clearly routed, for the dowager d.u.c.h.ess would not ask us to return otherwise, I cannot believe this will come to such a simple ending."

He framed her face with his hands and brought her lips to his. The fire that grew more fierce each time he touched her soared to life as his mouth slanted across hers in a slow but eager exploration. Her heart beat rapidly as he then whispered, "You worry too much, sweetheart. Why don't you start packing while I go with Andrews to get the carriage? We should be no longer than an hour."

She stood on tiptoe to taste the desire still lingering on his lips. "Stay safe, my love."

"I intend to." His grin lightened her heart as he added, "I have too much to look forward to now." He bent to whisper against her ear. "Tonight that door between our rooms shall be unlocked."

"The dowager d.u.c.h.ess-"

"Be d.a.m.ned."

"Marcus!"

He gave her a rakish grin as he went to the door and signaled impatiently to Andrews to follow. The valet scurried after him with only a nod in Regina's direction.

When a gust of wind nearly s.n.a.t.c.hed the door away from Andrews, she grasped its rough edge. "Go ahead, Andrews."

He smiled his thanks, startling her. Marcus's valet had never worn anything but a grim expression in her company, and she had suspected that he disapproved of her marriage to his lord. Even though he had said nothing, she could think of no other reason for his dreary frown.

She leaned back against the door as she closed it. How she would have scoffed if only a few days ago someone had told her she would be loath to leave this cottage! Yet, she was. She had found magic here in Marcus's arms. She had found love.

Going to the window, she peered past the rivulets of rain to see the two men trudging into the bushes. She wondered if Marcus had found love here, too. A twinge of distress picked at her heart. If only he had said-even once-that he loved her, she would be able to put all her qualms about this marriage aside.

She must be patient. Papa had told her that dozens of dozens of times. Life did not unfold as one wished on the schedule one liked. Instead she had to wait for Marcus to discover what she longed to believe was in his heart.

Then complete happiness would be hers.

"I cannot say, my lord," Andrews answered as he had twice before. His voice was filled with disgust at having to tramp through the soaked greenery.

"Grandmother must have spoken of the reason she considers it safe for Lady Daniston to return to London," Marcus insisted.

The valet shrugged, then grimaced even more when water sprinkled on his head from the branches woven together loosely over him. "Her Grace is not in the habit of explaining her decisions to the household."

"True." Marcus chuckled. "I fear I have been away from my family too long and become accustomed to this more sedate life. Without Grandmother, I find life quieter."

"Giving you time for thievery?"

He laughed again. "Now, Andrews, I have no need for your scolds." He shoved at a thick bramble, then thought better of it. Edging around it, he swore when his boots sank into the mired ground. "She said nothing of what made Father change his mind?"

"I know His Grace was most troubled by your missive about the Arab chancing upon you and Lady Daniston not far from here."

"I did not know that Father was now seeking your counsel."