She looked back at the vista of treetops. "I came up here for the views and fresh air." After an instant, she added, "It seemed a good place to think."

He wasn't sure he wanted her to think, nor that he would like what she was thinking.

"The estate extends more to the east and west, I presume?"

"Yes. The escarpment's the northern boundary."

"And the Gatting property lies to the east?"

"Southeast." He waited, then added, "I'll take you to see it sometime, if you like."

She inclined her head, then waved to where a glimmer of silver marked the course of the river. "The bridge that washed away-was it over there?"

"Farther upriver."

"Was it wrecked?"

"Most of it's gone. The only span still standing is badly weakened. We'll have to rebuild completely, but meanwhile we've rigged a pulley system to ferry necessities across to the farms that way. I should go and inspect the progress-perhaps later today after the others have left."

She started to slowly stroll, fingers trailing the stones. He followed, equally slowly, as she circled the tower.

"How many 'others' are still here? Who are they?"

"Mostly relatives too ancient to set out immediately after a feast. They'll be leaving this afternoon. Your uncle, of course, is still here. He told me he planned to take a different route home and wanted to leave before luncheon. Devil and Honoria left last night-they asked me to explain that with their newest child so young, they felt they had to hurry back."

Devil had seen him on his way out of the ballroom and mouthed one word: Coward. He had, however, winked, then smoothly intercepted one of Gyles's uncles who'd been about to bend his ear, allowing him to escape unimpeded.

"Yes-Honoria told me." Francesca glanced back briefly, very briefly met his eye. "She's invited us to visit at Somersham."

"We might go later in the year. We'll certainly see them in town."

"You've known Devil a long time?"

"Since Eton."

She continued to stroll, leaving him studying her back-and wondering just what was going on. Just what tack she intended to take. Wondering why she, thus far so forthright, was being so elusive. She strolled out of the tower's shadow and onto the parapet.

"All right-I give in. What the devil are you thinking?"

She flashed him a glance. "About what?"

"Our marriage." He halted. Eventually, she did, too, still facing away from him with two yards between them. "I'm aware that, prior to yesterday, your expectations and mine were not the same."

She turned her head and looked at him. Her eyes were wide, but her glance was too brief for him to place the expression in them. Turning back to the view, she peered over the coping at the forecourt below. "That was before we were wed." Her husky tones reached him clearly, but conveyed nothing more than her words. "It would be faster, I think, if we left the past behind and considered instead what we each wish of our marriage now."

He was very ready to leave the past behind. "What we wish now?"

"Yes. So-what do you wish of me as your wife?"

She started to stroll again. He hesitated, watching her hips sway, then fell in again at her heels. Her question was reasonable, sensible. Her tack was rationality incarnate. The wooden planks were firm under his feet-so why did he feel he was walking on thin ice?

"My requirements haven't changed-I need you to fill the role of my countess, which you're patently well able to do. I need you to provide me with heirs, meaning two, so there's no chance of Osbert inheriting. Beyond that, your life will be yours to live as you wish."

She said nothing for sometime, walking slowly ahead of him, then she softly echoed, "As I wish."

He wished he could see her face, her eyes. He could tell very little from her voice, other than it wasn't as strong as usual.

"Tell me, my lord." She stopped beside the parapet and looked down.

He stopped a few feet away, watching her.

"Are you saying that, beyond the bearing of your heirs, I will not need to be faithful?"

The thought rocked him. It took him some time to formulate an answer, one he could force himself to say. "I am not encouraging you to be unfaithful, but if, after providing me with the necessary heirs, you wish to develop liaisons, that will be entirely up to you."

"Provided I was discreet."

He thought he saw her lips lift wryly as she turned away and started strolling again. "I would expect my countess always to be discreet."

"And you? Will you always be discreet in pursuing the liaisons I assume you wish to be free to pursue?"

There were always whispers, rumors. "To the best of my ability, I am always discreet."

"But I-you expect me to always succeed in being discreet." Before he could answer, she continued, "Tell me, my lord, when would this mutual discretion of ours start?"

He frowned. "Once you've given me the heirs I require-"

"I do not think that is a viable option. Who knows how many girls you may sire? I may never get a chance to exercise my discretion, although I'm quite sure you will be exercising yours."

He wasn't about to discuss that point, and he was getting very tired of talking to her back.

"I do not think that is fair. What I propose is that we both agree to remain faithful until such time as we are satisfied I'm carrying your child. From that agreed date, we go our separate ways, until I'm delivered of the child. Then, once again, we return to faithfulness, and so on, until you have your heirs. Once that point is reached, we will both henceforth be free to pursue whatever liaisons and discreet connections we please."

He stopped walking.

He hadn't realized the barbarian was so close to his surface. He was suddenly very glad she was facing the other way. Hands clenched at his sides, he struggled to contain his reaction. It took him a good minute to suppress the reactive rage, the instinctive urge to roar "No!"

It took another thirty seconds before he could say, "If that's what you wish."

She heard the change, the undercurrent of violence in his voice. She halted, stiffened; her head rose. Then she spoke in a tone he had not before heard from her. "I have desires, needs, and requirements of my own that you have chosen not to fulfill within our marriage. I'm merely ensuring that while fulfilling your requirements, I'll be able to pursue my own goals."

Abruptly, she swung to face him, head high, her expression reflecting a determination as stubborn as his own. "That is my requirement of our marriage. I do not think it's one you can refuse."

Her eyes were brilliant but screened. The distance between them had grown to several yards; he was content that it was so. It took every ounce of control he possessed to remain still, to stop himself reaching for her, to stop himself...

When he could trust himself to move that much, he inclined his head. "Very well, madam. We have an agreement."

If his clipped tones bothered her, she gave no sign. Coolly, she inclined her head back, then turned and strolled on to the second tower's door. "I imagine breakfast will be served soon."