He demonstrated-very effectively.

As he spread her thighs and sank deeply into her, Patience's breath fractured on a gasp.

He moved within her, claiming her, pressing deep, only to withdraw and fill her again. Arms braced, he reared above her, and loved her; beneath him, Patience writhed. When he bent his head and found her lips, she clung to the caress, clung to the moment. Clung to him.

Their lips parted, and she sighed. And felt his words against her lips as he moved deeply within her.

"With my body, I thee worship. With my heart, I thee adore. I love you. And if you want me to say it a thousand times, I will. Just as long as you'll be my wife."

"I will." Patience heard the words in her head, tasted them on her lips-she felt them resonate in her heart.

The next hour passed, and not a single coherent phrase passed their lips. The warm stillness within the room was broken only by the rustling of sheets, and soft, urgent murmurs. Then the silence gave way to soft moans, groans, breathless pants, desperate gasps. Culminating in a soft, piercingly sweet scream, dying, sobbing, into a deep guttural groan.

Outside, the moon rose; inside, the fire died.

Wrapped in each other's arms, limbs and hearts entwined, they slept.

"Bye!" Gerrard stood on the front steps and, smiling hugely, waved them away.

With a cheery wave, Patience faced forward, settling herself under the thick rug. The rug Vane had insisted she needed in order to go driving with him. She glanced at him. "You aren't going to fuss over me, are you?"

"Who? Me?" He threw her an uncomprehending glance. "Perish the thought."

"Good." Patience tipped her head back and looked at the sky, still threatening snow. "There's really no need-I'm perfectly accustomed to looking after myself."

Vane kept his eyes on his horses's ears.

Patience slanted him another glance. "Incidentally, I meant to mention…" When he merely raised an inquiring brow, and kept his gaze forward, she put her nose in the air and baldly stated, "If you dare, ever, to go into a conservatory with a beautiful woman, even if she's related-even a first cousin-I will not be held accountable for the outcome."

That got her a glance, a mildly curious one.

"Outcome?"

"The fracas that will inevitably ensue."

"Ah." Vane looked forward again, easing his horses down the lane to the main road. "What about you?" he eventually asked. Meekly mild, he raised his brows at her. "Don't you like conservatories?"

"You may take me to see any conservatory you please," Patience snapped. "My liking for pot plants is not, as you well know, the subject of this discussion."

Vane's lips quirked, then lifted-lightly. "Indeed. But you may put that particular subject from your head." The look in his eyes told Patience he was deadly serious. Then he smiled, his wolfish, Cynster smile. "What would I want with other beautiful women, if I can show you conservatories instead?"

Patience blushed, and humphed, and looked ahead.

A fine sprinkling of snow covered the landscape and sparkled in the weak sunshine. The breeze was chilly, the clouds leaden grey, but the day remained fine-fine enough for their drive. They reached the main road, and Vane turned north. He flicked the reins, and his greys stepped out. Lifting her face to the breeze, Patience thrilled to the steady rolling rhythm, to the sense of traveling quickly along a new road. In a new direction.

The roofs of Kettering lay ahead. Drawing a deep breath, she said, "I suppose we should start making plans."

"Probably," Vane conceded. He slowed the greys as they entered the town. "I'd imagined we'd spend most of our time in Kent." He glanced at Patience. "The house in Curzon Street is big enough for a family, but other than the obligatory appearances during the height of the Season, I can't imagine we'll be there all that much. Unless you've discovered a liking for town life?"

"No-of course not." Patience blinked. "Kent sounds wonderful."

"Good-did I mention there's a deal of redecorating to do?" Vane grinned at her. "Infinitely better you than me. Most of the house needs attention-especially the nurseries."

Patience mouthed an "Oh."

"Of course," Vane continued, deftly steering his cattle through the main street, "before we get to the nurseries, I suppose we should consider the main bedchamber." His expression impossibly innocent, he caught Patience's eye. "I daresay you'll need to make changes there, too."

Patience narrowed her eyes at him. "Before we get to the main bedchamber, don't you think we should get to a church?"

Vane's lips twitched; he looked ahead. "Ah, well. Now that poses some problems."

"Problems?"

"Hmm-like which church."

Patience frowned. "Is there some tradition in your family?"

"Not really. Nothing we need concern ourselves with. It really comes down to personal preference." With the town behind then, Vane set the greys pacing. And turned his attention to Patience. "Do you want a big wedding?"

She frowned. "I hadn't given it much thought."

"Well, do. And you might like to ponder the fact that there are approximately three hundred friends and connections who will have to be invited from the Cynster side alone, should you elect to go that route."

"Three hundred!"

"That's just the close ones."

It didn't take Patience long to shake her head. "I really don't think a big wedding is called for. It sounds like it'll take forever to organize."

"Very likely."

"So-what's the alternative?"

"There are a few," Vane admitted. "But the fastest method would be to marry by special license. That can be done at virtually anytime, and would take next to no time to organize."

"Beyond obtaining the license."

"Hmm." Vane looked ahead. "So, the question is, when would you like to marry?"

Patience considered. She looked at Vane, at his profile, puzzled when he kept his eyes forward and refused to meet her gaze. "I don't know," she said. "You pick a date."

He looked at her then. "You're sure? You won't mind what I decide?"

Patience shrugged. "Why should I? The sooner the better, if we're to go on as we are."

Vane let out a breath, and whipped up his horses. "This afternoon."

"This after…" Patience swiveled on the seat to stare at him. Then she snapped her mouth shut. "You've already got a license."

"In my pocket." Vane grinned-wolfishly. "That was where I was yesterday, while Sligo was hunting high and low."

Patience slumped back against the seat. Then their pace, Gerrard's wide grin, and the distance they'd already traveled, registered. "Where are we going?"

"To get married. In Somersham." Vane smiled. "There's a church in the village by the ducal estate, which you could say I've a connection with. Of all the churches in this land, I'd like to be married there. And the vicar, Mr. Postlethwaite, will fall over himself to do the honors."

Feeling slightly dizzy, Patience drew in a deep breath-then let it out. "Well, then-let's be married in Somersham village."

Vane glanced her way. "You're sure?"

Meeting his eyes, reading the uncertainty, the question, in the grey, Patience smiled, and slid closer. "I'm overwhelmed." She let her smile deepen, let her joy show. "But I'm sure."

Tucking one hand in Vane's arm, she gestured grandly. "Drive on!"

Vane grinned, and complied. Patience clung close, and listened to the wheels' steady clatter. Their journey together had already begun. Their dream was waiting-just beyond the next bend.