"I don't really know yet," Knight said thoughtfully, watching Mr. St. John-a portly gentleman old enough to be Lily's father-pat her hand, then her wrist, then her elbow. He stopped there.

The man obviously valued his hide.

Laura Beth tugged on Knight's trouser leg. "Papa," she said, giving him a sunny smile.

"Where's Czarina Catherine?" Knight asked around the sudden lump in his throat.

"She didn't have a nice enough dress to wear to Mama's wedding. I made her stay in bed."

"I should have thought of that. Come up, snippet, and say something wise and intelligent to Bishop Morley."

"I don't like black," said Laura Beth and poked her thumb in her mouth.

A wedding night should be remembered until one stuck one's spoon in the wall, Knight was thinking as he watched Lily speak to each of the servants in turn. A night that Lily would remember-in great detail-and what she remembered would make her smile, even in fifty years.

Knight looked out through the bow windows in the huge domineering formal dining room. It looked cold, the sky overcast with fat rain clouds. He turned, and saw Lily watching him. She smiled shyly.

He smiled back, thinking that she would go to bed with him every night and wake up with him every morning.

At six o'clock that evening, Knight stopped off to say good night to the children, then wended his way downstairs to the small breakfast room where he and Lily would dine alone. Dear John, bless the fellow, was entertaining the boys until bedtime, and that saintly Mrs. Crumpe was Laura Beth's closest friend for the evening.

Now, Lily, he thought, it's your turn. And mine.

Nineteen.

"How can you be more beautiful than you were only an hour ago? It is obviously a metaphysical question that has no answer." Knight raised his champagne glass. "To you, Viscountess Castlerosse, my lady, my wife, my helpmeet, my-"

"You're fast going downhill."

Lily quickly tapped the fine crystal glass to her husband's. "To us," she said, grinning. "It is odd," she continued, watching Knight serve her plate, "but I never thought to be a viscountess or any kind of 'my lady.' There was no money, you see, after Father and I left England, and I was always told that gentlemen only wed ladies with ample dowries."

"You had something better than money, Lily, a commodity of which I am already plentifully endowed."

"Oh? What, pray tell?"

He smiled at her and said simply, "You brought not only yourself but also a family. Both very strong inducements."

Lily wasn't certain if he was serious. He seemed to be, but she still didn't know him well enough to be sure. "Well, the children are wonderful."

"And you're not?"

"I'm just me, Knight, a woman who is really quite ordinary."

"You won't speak of my wife as being ordinary, if you please, Lily. God, I'm glad it's over with. Can you admit to feelings of relief at being my wife?"

"I don't know," she said slowly, fiddling with her wineglass. "It's all been so fast and-well, I don't know what to think."

"I'm relieved enough for both of us," he admitted. "You're mine now, and I swear to take good care of you."

She was watching his mouth as he spoke; then she looked down at his strong hands, at the moment underemployed with serving her carrots, and imagined how it would feel to have his hands on her- Knight stilled. "Stop looking at me like that or I'll fling you between the plate of roast hare and the bowl of scalloped oysters and have my way with you."

"That's an odd way of saying it," Lily said, trying to wipe the look-whatever it was-from her face.

"You're right. It's probably more accurate to say that you, my dear, will have your way with my poor body." That hungry look was back for a moment, and Knight groaned. "Here," he said and set her plate before her.

"Mimms has done marvelously."

When Knight settled into his chair, he smiled at her and said, "Do you think you can eat something? Just twelve bites, Lily. You'll need your strength."

Her fork trembled, just a bit, but Knight saw it, and his smile grew very pleased. A wife-an honest-to-God wife-who was a lady born and bred and who wanted to have sex with her husband. It was a heady thought, and he refused to allow any other into his mind. If she'd had just Tris or she'd slept with several men, it didn't matter to him. He'd meant what he'd said to her. The past wasn't important.

They ate in silence. Knight's eyes glittered as brightly as the branch of candles on the table.

"Lily."

She looked up and grew very still at his expression.

"This is our wedding night."

"Yes, I know."

"You aren't nervous, are you?"

"Certainly. Are not you?"

"No."

"A foolish question. You're a man."

"I can't argue with that assessment. But it is our wedding night and I want you to trust me. All right?"

"This is so different from what I am used to. Being married means I'm no longer responsible just for myself and the children. I must now include you."

"Why not just make me responsible for all of you? You can take a rest and get used to being my wife."

"Don't you have to get used to being my husband?"

"All I'm saying is that you don't have to be so alone anymore, Lily, you don't have to be so independent. I'm here now."

"Yes, you are. I'm really not hungry, Knight."

"Eat. Ten more bites, that's all. Now, do you remember that afternoon we were in the oak forest? The unforgettable afternoon Sam sprained his leg?"

She didn't want to say yes, give him more fodder for his masculine display of superiority, but she couldn't help herself. Those few moments were crystal clear in her mind. She swallowed, remembering the wild feelings that had coursed through her. She nodded.

"Do you remember what we were doing?"

"Please, Knight. Eat your mashed potatoes."

"You were standing against an oak tree, remember? The one with the very thick, old bark? I was kissing you and you were crazy for more. I leaned down then and put my hand beneath your riding skirt."

He paused for a moment, watching her place her fork first in her right hand, then in her left. Then she put it down. She didn't know what to do with her hands. She picked up a napkin.

"I have long arms, thank the good Lord. Remember how I caressed the back of your knee, then very slowly moved upward, along your beautiful thigh? You were trembling, Lily, making those little female noises in your throat, and I kissed you again even as my fingers splayed upward, nearly touching you."

"Knight-"

"When my fingers found you-oh, you wanted me, Lily. Do you remember how I stroked you, caressed you until you were crying into my mouth, wanting me so much you couldn't help yourself?" Knight's voice was becoming ragged; he was losing control just recounting that afternoon of the week before. Lily was sitting very still.

"What are you thinking, Lily?"

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Then she closed her eyes for a moment. "Your fingers. The feelings low in my stomach when you touched me. And your mouth and the feel of your body pressed against me."

He nearly leapt out of his chair. Oh, God, he'd thought to control things and look at him. He was hurting more than she was, he knew it. He was a man, after all, and men hurt more than women when it came to sex. He just hadn't expected her to be so very honest.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you tonight?"

She shook her head, cogent thought and even simple words hovering beyond her reach. He'd seduced her now as surely as he had that afternoon in the forest.

"We haven't an oak tree in the house. It's too cold to take you back to the forest. But, Lily-no, I shan't tell you. I'll show you. You won't be nervous, Lily, or afraid."

Knight scraped back his chair, his intent clear on his face. Then, to Lily's bemused surprise, he seemed to shake himself mentally. He turned away from her and said over his shoulder, "Would you like to play the pianoforte for me?"

She stared at his back. "Certainly," she said. "That is what I should like to do more than anything in the world." What she really wanted was for her husband to tell her that he cared for her. But it was just her body he wanted. He kept making that clear enough. Lily wasn't a hypocrite. Even as she thought those things she admitted that she wanted him as well, immensely. But she cared for him, dammit. Cared for him more than any man she'd ever known.

They left the breakfast room with nearly as much food present as before they'd come to dinner.

Lily, something of a realist, knew that any music except for the simplest piece would be quite beyond her fingers tonight. What was he up to? Tonight, she thought, she would become a woman, and it was so wonderfully exciting that she wanted to throw herself in his arms right now, right in the middle of the drawing room.

Instead, she played an Irish ballad that was, thankfully, very slow and blessed with only four different chords.

Knight watched her, watched the candlelight shimmer around her head, making her thick blond hair glow with golden highlights. The wedding gown was beyond what even he'd envisioned. The soft lace around the neckline framed her white shoulders and hinted at the soft breasts beneath the silk. He shook his head. If he continued thinking along those lines, he would be well and truly lost. He'd asked her to play the pianoforte so he could distance himself a bit, but it wasn't working.

He had to maintain control. These odd and utterly disconcerting feelings he had for Lily had to be contained. He would not be ruled by his groin. But was that all it was?

"That's enough, Lily."

He got to his feet and picked up the branch of candles. Lily's fingers fell on a minor chord and she looked at him, startled and, had he but known it, vastly relieved. He was playing some sort of game with her and she wanted it to end. She wanted him to make love to her. Once she knew what it was all about, she thought she'd have a prayer of regaining a bit of equilibrium. Not much, but a small portion at least.

She rose slowly, smiling shyly at him. He held out his hand and she placed hers into his.

"I had all your things moved into my bedchamber," he said as they walked side by side up the stairs.

"That was kind of you."

"Kind? I simply want you with me. Next week we'll begin to replenish your wardrobe."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "My wedding gown is beautiful, Knight. And so is my ring. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful."

"Gratitude has nothing to do with anything, Lily. I don't want it, in any case. I want you, nothing more."

"You have me."

"Not yet," he said, and he sounded as if he were in pain.

When they reached his large master suite at the end of the corridor, Knight opened the door, smiled down at his bride, and said, "Here, take the candles."

She did and walked into the bedchamber. He turned and pulled the heavy oak door closed. Then he faced her again, leaning against the door. "Please stand still for just a moment. I want to look at you."

Lily felt foolish and exposed, which she wasn't, not at all. The candles shook in her hand and Knight retrieved them.

He set them on the mantelpiece. "It's quite warm in here," he remarked, leaning down to add yet another log to the fire. "I told Thrombin I wanted it that way."

"There's no screen in here, Knight, and I-"

He held up his hand. "I'll be your lady's maid, Lily, but not yet. No, not yet." He walked toward her, very slowly, his eyes on her face. "You are so beautiful," he said, stopping in front of her. She closed her eyes as his fingers lightly stroked over her cheek, her jaw, her ears.

"And you, my lord. Has no woman ever told you how beautiful you are?"

"Not more than a dozen. I didn't believe them."

"Will you believe me?"

He looked at her for a long time. "We'll see. In the morning. Now, I want to kiss you until my ears ring."

She lowered her head, embarrassed, but his long fingers closed under her chin and he raised her head. "Lily," he said, and she felt his warm breath on her mouth. She placed her hands on his shoulders and moved against him. He looked at her mouth for a very long time, then kissed her lightly, small nipping kisses that made her smile and open her eyes.

His fingertip stroked her mouth. "Part your lips."

She did and he deepened his kisses. She tasted him, the sweet taste of the champagne, the tart taste of the lemon pudding, the warm taste of him, Knight, a wonderful man, her husband. It was exquisite and no longer forbidden to her. She felt free for the first time in her life, free to be herself, free to show him what she felt for him. His tongue touched hers and Lily jumped in surprise. Then she accepted him.

She was his now, completely in his power, and he could do as he wished with her. He cupped her in his hands and lifted her. He carried her across the room, near the fireplace. He pressed her back against the wall and came against her. He felt her soft breasts against his chest, felt her breasts heaving as he rubbed his straining sex against her. She gasped.

"You like that, don't you?"

She couldn't think of any words, and her response was to deepen her kiss and dig her fingernails into his upper arms.

Lily felt the wall against her back, felt him pushing himself against her, and she was straining toward him, unable to help herself. Then she remembered his words about the oak tree and what he'd done to her that day. She was embarrassed, excited, nearly incoherent with anticipation.

Then he was gone from her and her eyes flew open in consternation. "Knight?"

"A moment, Lily."