He slipped an arm around my shoulders, and I sank gratefully into its protection, against his shoulder. “I should have noticed before. You’re more accustomed to watching, aren’t you? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Astonishingly, yes.” I sipped the lemonade, and put the glass to my forehead to cool the headache forming. “Recently, these Assemblies had become torture for me, but I had to go, to let Lizzie think I was content. I was relegated to sitting by the wall with the other forgotten women.”

He snorted. “They don’t seem to appreciate quality here. You saw how surprised Caroline was when you said you hadn’t taken?”

“Yes.” I sipped again.

“Do you believe me now?”

“In what way?”

“That you’re a lovely woman and any man would be glad of you? You would have taken in London with or without me?” He took my fan from me and spread it out with a crack any woman would be glad to produce. He fanned my face, and I sighed contentedly. I began to feel my strength return and the budding headache fade away, though whether it was his care or the respite I couldn’t say.

“It’s hard to readjust to the idea. But I’m trying to.”

“I should think so. And here’s a secret worth knowing.” He put the fan down and took a sip of his wine, then took up the fan again afterwards. “If you believe in your own beauty, other people will believe it too. Have you ever seen a portrait of an accredited beauty, and thought it must be a poor likeness because she isn’t a beauty at all?”

“Frequently.”

“Sometimes they are considered beautiful because they think so, and everybody else has been told so.”

“Were the Gunnings truly beautiful, then?” I asked him, in a reference to the three beauties who had taken London by storm two years before.

“Oh yes, truly beautiful. But the whole circus became too much. People followed them about, once even a shoe was displayed in a cobbler’s as belonging to Miss Maria Gunning, and it drew crowds of spectators. She got herself her duke in the end but I prefer a few brains with my beauty, and the Gunnings were as feather-headed as they come.” He gave me a private sweet smile. “I’m so pleased I didn’t join in with the general hysteria. I might have missed you, my sweet life.”

I smiled back at him, and he gave me a lingering kiss. He made to close my fan, but studied it before he gave it back to me. It was the one I had bought on the previous Wednesday, not particularly special, but he seemed to need something to focus on.

“When I saw you falter in there, I thought—well I thought the most ridiculous things.”

“What kind of ridiculous things?”

“Well, now.” He spoke carefully, taking his time, “The first intimation my mother had of being with child with Maria was when she fainted at a ball. She wasn’t the fainting kind, you see, and—”

I was forced to laugh. “Oh, Richard, after two days?”

“It was just my anxiety left over from last October. I worried desperately that you had quickened for weeks afterwards. I lost my head completely on that afternoon, didn’t even try to protect you. I didn’t want to hurry you into marriage, or cast any kind of scandal on our union. We made love twice. That was sheer madness.” He shook his head at the memory. “But such sweet madness, as I heard someone say once.” He tilted my chin up, studied my face, and kissed me, long and slow. I relaxed into his arms and felt completely happy there. I knew his reputation, I knew the dangers of marrying a rake, but this feeling, this bliss, couldn’t be mine anywhere else but in his arms. “You were so brave to seduce me like that. Would you have told me, if you had quickened?”

“Like a shot,” I assured him. He kissed me again.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He put down his glass and touched my stomach with the edge of his hand, brushing the point of my stomacher. “Do you think we might have put a babe there this time?”

“I have no idea. Do you mind?”

“No, though I’d prefer a little time alone with you first. My parents would be delighted. An eight months’ child would make my father bow down and worship you. Do you know he despaired of either of us ever producing an heir?”

“Even if Gervase couldn’t, he must have known from your reputation that you were capable of it,” I commented, in an oblique reference to Gervase and his preferences.

“Oh yes, but to my knowledge I never produced a child, you know. I was extremely careful.” He picked up his glass and took a reflective sip before replacing it on the side table. “I could have been infertile, for all he knew.”

“Do you think you are?”

“Not for a moment.” He turned his head to meet my eyes. “You’re the only person I’ve completely lost control with.” I hugged the thought to myself, overjoyed at this proof that I was different to him, and drank the rest of my lemonade.

“Richard, you know you agreed to no secrets?”

“Yes?” A frown creased his brow.

“The bride trip?”

His brow cleared. “Everywhere and nowhere?” He laughed. “I know, my sweet, but I couldn’t resist the tease. In any case, I don’t think I can keep it a secret much longer, since so many of my friends have guessed. One of them is bound to tell you.” He