“If you’ll excuse me…” Cato moved away toward the rose garden, too bound up in his own thoughts to pay attention to their badinage.

Rufus gazed across the quadrangle to the far cloister, a frown now in his eyes. “Did you notice a man standing over there a little while ago?”

“Oh, yes, it was the dung beetle.” Portia lifted one of Eve’s dimpled fists and sucked her fingers. The baby shrieked with delight.

“I remain unenlightened.” Rufus’s frown had increased.

“Brian Morse, Cato’s stepson,” Portia explained. “He’s Olivia’s nemesis for some reason… she’s not at all clear what it is about him that scares her… but he mimics her stammer and taunts her. He’s a loathsome creature.” She grinned reminiscently. “We arranged for his very precipitate and rather mortifying departure from Castle Granville. I’m sure he bears us a grudge.”

“I see.” Reflectively, Rufus tapped his teeth with a fingernail. There was something about the man’s silent observation that had made him uneasy. He would do a little investigating of Master Morse himself. Then the frown cleared from his eye and he regarded Portia quizzically.

“I think it’s time you donned your britches again.”

“Oh, don’t you care for my gown?” Portia looked down at her gown of apple green silk. “I thought it quite pretty.”

“Oh, it’s pretty enough,” he said. “But I find I prefer the britches.”

Portia’s eyes sparkled at the sensuous note in her husband’s voice. “I can hardly wear britches in the king’s presence.”

“No, but we’re leaving the king’s presence. I’ve done all I can here. The man’s as stubborn as an ox. He won’t make peace on Cromwell’s terms.”

“So the war will continue?”

“Presumably.” Rufus shook his head impatiently. “But I’ve had enough of it for the moment. I intend to spend the next few months supervising the rebuilding of my house, the civilizing of my sons, and…” He paused and pressed his thumb against her mouth. “And the loving of my unruly gosling of a wife.”

His eyes, vivid and filled with promise, held the slanted green gaze beneath him. A shiver ran down her spine as she waited, breathless, for the kiss that would make good the promise… for the moment when the enchanted circle enclosed them, the world faded, and she would know again the all-encompassing certainty that her life, her soul, her heart, belonged to this man as his belonged to her.