“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”

She nodded.

He settled down and kissed her. She followed his lead, more easily this time for having a small bit of practice. His hand, which had rested on her hip, began to move up. She closed her eyes and followed its progress desperately. Last time, he had touched her breast and-yes, there it was, his hand settling over the curve of her left breast. There was nothing between them, nothing at all. He squeezed gently a few times, and tiny waves of sensation ran all through her. He brushed her nipple with his thumb, and she almost jumped at the sharp shock of pleasure. She didn’t, though. This time, she was going to stay in control. She was not a common, wanton trollop.

He moved down, following the line of her throat with his lips. I can do this, she thought, and then his mouth closed over her other nipple and she despaired. It was hot and wet and his hair was brushing her skin and suddenly he sucked, hard-she struggled not to cry out, not to buck under his mouth and hands.

He raised his head. “Is something wrong?”

She swallowed, opening her eyes. His blue eyes were fixed anxiously on her. What had she done? “Why-” Her voice cracked. Why wasn’t he touching her anymore? “Why would something be wrong?”

“Well-did that feel good, when I did that?”

She flushed. “Yes.”

“Then-you’re just being awfully still and quiet.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be?”

He sat up. “Why on earth would you be supposed to be?”

“I-I don’t know,” she said, mortified. “I didn’t want to give you a disgust of me. Ladies don’t give in to their base urges.”

“They don’t?”

Despite her embarrassment, she wanted to laugh at his confounded expression. “I don’t know. Do they?”

“I don’t know either. I’ve never done this with a lady before.” Nev thought for a moment. “Did you feel like moving, or making any noise?”

Penelope held herself very still. “Well…yes.”

He sighed in relief. “I’d really rather you did then. It lets me know I’m doing it right. Otherwise I start to worry.”

She wanted to make him happy. “All right.”

He started over, and this time she tried to relax and trust him. He went slow, so slow, and the heat built and built. His mouth was back on her breast, and she was so distracted that she didn’t notice his hand moving lower and lower-until he touched her, there, and she felt her whole body arch toward him. “Oh!”

He murmured against her breast in response, the hum doing very pleasant things to her nerve endings. His fingers moved over her, and his mouth teased her breast, hotter than she had ever thought anything could feel without scalding. It would have been hopeless to try to be still, anyway, not when she felt like this-she had never felt anything like this-had never known anyone could ever feel this good.

A thought came to her-this is how a violin feels. She was filled with sound, resonating to Nev ’s playing-trills and arpeggios, higher and higher, the tempo increasing until she vibrated under his hands-

Suddenly the pleasure was so strong she could hardly bear it. “Oh!” she cried out-she would break-she would die-and then the whole world rang with a crescendo of bright, pure pleasure.

Penelope shuddered, again and again-and then it was over and she was herself once more. She could hardly believe it. She lay there, trying to catch her breath, for a long moment. Finally she opened her eyes and turned to look at her husband. “Was that-was that supposed to happen?”

Nev grinned widely. “Yes.” He looked proud of himself. “It was, in fact, my intention.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Um…thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, that pleased note still in his voice.

“Can…can you feel that too?”

He nodded.

“Do you have to be inside me to feel it?”

“No. Hands and mouths work just fine.”

“Do you-do you want me to-”

“You don’t have to. This was for you. There’ll be plenty of time for me.”

Didn’t he want her to? “May I?” she asked, surprised by her own boldness.

He was very still. “Are you sure you wish to?”

She nodded, his uncertainty giving her courage. “Take off your clothes.”

He shuddered and fumbled at the tie to his dressing gown, looking nervous. He pulled off his nightshirt, and then he was naked. Penelope’s first impulse was to glance modestly away, but she made herself look. He did look like a painting or a sculpture-a Greek athlete, or a Jacques-Louis David hero. But he was real, and if she put out her hand his warm flesh would yield under her palm. The cinnamon-colored hair on his chest and legs was a surprise, but oddly exciting-intimate, somehow. And, she thought, finally bringing her mind to what she hadn’t had the courage to look at first, he wore no grape leaf. Between his legs, surrounded at its base by more cinnamon-colored hair, his erect male part bobbed.

It was larger than she had expected. She pushed the uncomfortable thought aside that one day soon that would have to fit inside her. Taking a deep breath, she reached out-

A sharp, crackling pop came from somewhere. Another followed it almost immediately.

Penelope met Nev ’s eyes, feeling suddenly cold and frightened. “That-that sounded like gunfire.” She drew back her hand.

“That was gunfire.” Nev swore. “Stay here, do you hear me?” He threw his dressing gown on over his nakedness and ran out, slamming the door behind him. “Lock it!” he called, his voice receding as he ran down the hall, his bare feet making hardly any noise at all.

Penelope sat there stupidly for a few moments, and then she pulled on her discarded nightclothes and ran after him.

Ten

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Nev ’s back was to her and he was speaking to Captain Trelawney, who wore a large red nightcap. “ ‘Is something wrong?’ ” Nev mimicked. “Are my wife and I the only ones who heard the repeated sounds of gunfire?”

“Oh, that.” Trelawney smothered a yawn. “Don’t worry about that. It’s only the poachers and your gamekeepers.”

“Shooting each other?” There was an edge in Nev ’s voice that Penelope had never heard. “And this is a common occurrence?”

“Well, not precisely common. Once or twice a month, maybe.”

“Let me be sure I understand you. There are Englishmen shooting at each other out there, on my land, and you’re telling me not to worry about it.”

“Usually they don’t hit each other in the dark.” Trelawney seemed oblivious to the dangerous note in Nev ’s voice. Penelope thought he might be drunk.

“How many gamekeepers do I employ?” Nev asked, quietly.

“Eleven, my lord. It takes that many to keep the buggers away.”

“They do not seem to be keeping the buggers away at all.”

“Well, many a man would rather poach than earn an honest living,” Trelawney said philosophically. “Would you like me to install traps? Spring guns, maybe, like Sir Jasper has.”

Penelope flinched.

“No, I would not like you to install traps,” Nev said with cold fury. “Your effrontery is appalling. Loweston is in a disastrous state. I do not doubt that my father is chiefly responsible, but you have done nothing to help. You were content to sit in your office, drink, and keep shoddy records while everything fell to pieces around you. Tonight my wife and I are roused from our bed by gunfire, and you tell me not to worry, because it is only the unconscionable war you have launched against people who cannot make an honest living because of our mismanagement? How dare you?”

Trelawney sniggered. “So you finally managed to tear her away from those account books? No wonder you’re so angry.”

Nev seemed to grow another three inches. “I ought to have you horsewhipped for that. I want you gone by morning. Get out of my sight.”