"I'm a wife," she said, the words sounding good.

"A wife," he repeated, reaching out to brush the pad of his thumb over her cheek. "A lovely wife."

Rosalyn turned her head and kissed his hand. "What bothers you?" she asked. "I know now it is not Lord Loftus."

"That blustering fool?" Colin snorted an opinion. He rose to his feet and took a slightly unsteady step away from her. The hardest part was waiting for him to speak. Just when she feared he was not going to confide in her, he said, "Matt accused me of ignoring our parents. He believes I look down on him for what he has chosen to do with his life." There was a pause.

"It's true. All of it. I did ignore my parents when they were alive. Well, not ignore-worse. I took them for granted."

Rosalyn thought of her cousins and the many households she had lived in. "How you behaved is not uncommon. Many children assume their parents will always be there."

He stabbed his fingers through his hair. "But I wasn't a child, Rosalyn. I was a man full grown. I found out this afternoon from Matt that Mother and Father had known those times I'd been in London during the war. They had hoped I would come see them. I didn't make the time because I was involved in military politics."

"And trying to earn a knighthood."

"Yes," he agreed, "one that was denied me." He came back around to sit in the chair, leaning forward as if needing to talk to her, to make her understand. "You see, I always believed I was destined for greater things. I was always overreaching myself-such as my desire to win Belinda Lovejoyce. I wanted the best, Rosalyn. Nothing less would do. My parents were like millstones around my neck. They were humble and kind and far from what I wanted to be."

Rosalyn didn't say anything. She was afraid.

Colin continued. "My father could have been anything he wanted to be. He had a fine mind, much like Matt's. But he met a milkmaid named Mary and chose to be a cobbler in Clitheroe instead. He wanted to stay close to her and hers. So his mentor became ours. I've mentioned Father Ruley?"

She shook her head.

"He was the headmaster at Stoneyhurst. He'd been Father's patron, too. He used to tell Matt and me how disappointed he was in what Father had thrown aside for love."

"Is he the one who urged you to go in the military?"

"He found me a sponsor," Colin said, remembering. "Matt was the smart one and Father Ruley chose the Church for him, which made sense. Matt always had a serious frame of mind. I was relegated to the military, and I've done well to rise through the ranks."

"Why was he so interested in your family?" Rosalyn asked.

"All men like power," he said. "I think Father Ruley would have liked to be a bishop. Instead, he was sent to Northern England, and it had to be a disappointment for such an ambitious man. So, he transferred his ambition to students he thought worthy. Matt and I weren't the only boys he pushed. He sponsored several."

"Where is he now?"

"He died. You know, after I left Lancashire, I never came back, but I did write him once. I thanked him for all he'd done."

"Did he write back?"

"Yes, to complain about Matt and his lack of ambition. Father Ruley blamed Val. He was a priest," Colin said with a small smile. "They are all somewhat suspicious of women."

"Your brother seems very happy."

"He is... with everyone but me."

Rosalyn leaned forward. "What did he say this afternoon, Colin?"

"Nothing that wasn't true. Funny how a man whom I have dismissed most of my life because he is my brother and is always supposed to be there whether he wishes to or not, can turn out to be the one person who knows me well enough to make me see the truth. I have been a fool, Rosalyn. I've wasted my life... and I don't know what to do about it."

She took her husband's hands. "Colin, it is not bad to have people in our lives who see our faults clearly and care for us anyway."

"I don't know if he does care or not," he answered. "I discovered too late the one person I should have been impressing knows me too well."

There was true pain in his words. Pain that made Rosalyn's heart ache in response. Especially when he added, "It's too late to make amends with my parents, Rosalyn. I should have been here. I was too wrapped up in my own greed to think of anyone but myself. Now I have nothing, and it is exactly what I deserve."

You have me.

She didn't say the words, though. She was afraid to. Instead, she did what she was beginning to do every time words failed her. She kissed him.

Chapter Fifteen.

Rosalyn's kiss was the blessing Colin needed. It soothed him as no balm could.

Dear God, he wanted to believe he wasn't as selfish as he'd acted. He wanted someone to make thepain of self-realization go away-and was there any better way to find comfort than in her body?He didn't know until their lips met just exactly how much he had counted on her understanding, how he'd needed it. Her kiss tasted of smoky whiskey and acceptance.

Wonderful, freeing acceptance.

Colin cupped her face with his hands and took the kiss deeper. He drank her as a thirsty man drinks

water. She didn't shy away. For the first time, he recognized the deeper meaning behind these moments

between a man and a woman.

He slid his hands down to her shoulders, his fingers moving to unlace her dress. His need for her was building. He was hungry and anxious to relieve the pain. He wanted to matter to someone, to prove he wasn't a wastrel.

And here was Rosalyn, offering herself.

Matt was right. Colin was a selfish bastard- because right now, he wanted the solace his wife offered.

The whiskey had given him nothing. His memory was still too sharp, his sins too obvious. He had regrets

his brother didn't even know. He'd watched men die, many of whom he'd killed with his own hands, inbattle. He'd made hard choices, and what did he have to show for it?Nothing.But Rosalyn would help him forget, if even for a few hours. And, perhaps, he would regain his equilibrium, ignore his brother's charges, go on his way."We should go upstairs," she whispered.No, he wanted her right here. "I'll not make it," he murmured, kissing her neck. He licked a line up to her ear. "You taste like honey."

She practically melted against him, and Colin knew she was his. He could do anything with her. Anything.

He lowered her to the floor. He knew her secret places. He knew what she liked, where she needed to

be touched and exactly how. He'd taught her those things. See, Matt? He wasn't entirely a self-centered bore. He made his wife happy. He slid his fingers up her thigh beneath her petticoats and touched her intimately.

She broke off the kiss and glanced at the closed door. "We mustn't. What if someone walks in?"

"They won't," he promised and took a moment to blow out the candle. "They'll think we've gone to bed." No moonlight came through the window, and Colin found he liked it this way.

He lifted her skirts as he nuzzled her loosened neckline down. Finding her breast, he sucked, and she caught her breath.

Deeper, she was already hot and wet to his touch, and he could wait no longer. Not even bothering to pull down his breeches, he unbuttoned and freed himself. Rolling on his back, he brought his beautiful wife to sit on him.

They'd not done this. Her gasp of surprise and then pleasure added to his own enjoyment. He lifted his hips, thrusting deeper.

Her bodice was around her waist. He placed his hands on her hips and he showed her what to do, what they both wanted her to do.

What pins were left in Rosalyn's hair fell on the floor around them. She tilted back her head, her neck a pale line in the darkness, and she sighed her enjoyment.

Colin thrust up, the weight of her body taking him deeper than he had ever been before. "Ride me," he ordered. Make me forget.

Rosalyn understood. She began moving, slow at first, but with building momentum. She leaned forward, her hands on his chest. He pushed deeper, reaching up to capture her glorious curls in his fist.

They made love with an abandon he'd never known before. She gave her all to him. She held nothing back. Her release was quick and powerful.

Her body tightened around his. She cried out his name, the sound triumphant.

This woman was magic.

Colin rolled her onto her back. She followed him easily, her arms round his neck, her face buried in his shoulder. Her teeth rubbed his skin over his scar, as if to mark it. He thrust once, twice, a third time, going to the very center of her before finding his own release. He claimed her with all he had. She was his... and the outside world ceased to exist.

In this moment, buried to the hilt inside her, Rosalyn was his universe.

They lay on the floor, so exhausted they couldn't move for what seemed forever. Their lovemaking had been hard, and Rosalyn had barely recognized herself as the pagan woman who had demanded everything she'd wanted from her lover.

In the aftermath, the weight of his body felt good. The taste of his skin was on her lips, and all should be right, except it wasn't.

He moved off her, and she was aware that she was fully dressed. She even had her shoes on.

Colin sat up. She heard him buttoning his breeches in the darkness. He leaned close. "Are you all right?"

She heard the embarrassment in his voice. Was it because they had been so uninhibited? Only now didshe realize she'd not been as quiet as would have been prudent."I'm fine," she said and didn't add that she'd been completely surprised by herself. The habit of feeling guilty was hard to break-and yet she also enjoyed this newly discovered freedom.

He raised her hand to his lips and pressed his mouth in the palm a second before placing a kiss there. "Idid hurt you. I should have held back-"She silenced him with a kiss. "No, I don't ever want you to hold back. In fact, I'm thinking of asking you to make love to me on every floor of this house."

His teeth flashed white in the dark. He ran a finger up the bare skin of her arm. "We could start tonight,or we could find our bedroom, which I've yet to see."Our bedroom. "Help me up," she said.He came to his feet, pulling her up at the same time. She slipped her arms into her dress but didn't bother with the lacing. All was dark outside the doorway. Bridget and Cook had gone to bed, as had Covey.

She took his hand and led him up the stairs to her room. The moon was rising, providing light that came through the familiar windows of her personal haven.

Suddenly, Rosalyn wavered.

He stood behind her. "Are you afraid demons will follow you?" he asked, reminding her of the story his

mother had told. He didn't wait for her answer but lifted her in his arms and carried her over the

threshold.

Her room was of a good size, but his presence took up every inch. He carried her to the bed, laid her down, and then stretched down beside her, both of them fully clothed.

For long moments, he did nothing but hold her, and slowly she relaxed, accepting him here, too. Her lovegrew even deeper as she realized how completely he seemed to understand her. And wasn't that whatshe'd always longed for-someone who cared enough to notice her needs?

"How is it you sometimes know me better than I know myself?" she whispered.

He drew her closer. "Rosalyn, every thought you have is expressed in your eyes. I wish everyone was as honest."

She sat up and looked down at him, her hand on his chest. "Colin, why did you want the Commons seat?

Why is a knighthood so important? Is it for the prestige? After all, you are the owner of Maiden Hill. In

the Ribble valley, that carries a great deal of weight. Is London so important?""I don't know, Rosalyn. Sometimes, I don't know myself. I've always wanted to go as far as I could...and yet, Mart's words, and now your question, make me wonder why." He shook his head. "I don'tknow the answers."

"So you just wanted to be Sir Colin."

He laughed at that. "Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?"

"Not really. I think it is a fine name."