Mariah was ready to murder her sister. Or at least lock her in the tower of the medieval part of Starcross Castle. It took the better part of an hour to find Victoria. An hour that she could have spent in Peter’s arms. Because, at last, she felt as though she and Peter had found the solid ground they needed to build their marriage on. Her heart had nearly broken when she’d put two and two together while listening to his sad tale. But not only had she suddenly understood what Anne’s motivation to pursue a child at all costs could be, she remembered the afternoon she and Peter had first met, their conversation by the river. She remembered all the reasons she had chosen to marry him when he had given her the chance to back out.

She loved him. There was no telling when it had happened, but seeing the suffering in his eyes had made her problems seem trivial. And feeling the way he responded to the simplest show of affection filled her with a power that no one, not even William, could vanquish. She would give Peter the happiness he deserved.

Just as soon as she wrung her sister’s neck.

“We’ve looked all over the gardens, my lord,” Nick reported as the house party guests gathered in the French garden at the back of the house. “Miss Victoria isn’t anywhere to be found.”

“Do you think she’s trying to fool us all by hiding in the house?” Captain Tennant asked, staring up at the windows of Starcross Castle.

“For two hours?” Peter asked, frowning.

“Victoria could get into a lot of trouble in two hours,” Mariah sighed, rubbing her stomach.

She had just decided to march into the house, intent on turning every room inside out, when Malcolm strode out through the French doors, holding a struggling Davy by the collar.

“Get off me, let go!” Davy protested, but Malcolm held him tight.

Peter rolled his eyes before settling into a look of righteous fury and striding across the garden to meet them. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

Mariah rushed to his side as Malcolm said, “Schoolboy pranks multiplied to the point where they become dangerous.” He held up a large envelope.

Peter took the envelope and opened it, flinching at the powdery contents. “What’s this?”

He started to sniff it, but Malcolm threw out a hand to stop him. “It’s a mixture of ground rose hip, stinging nettles, and velvet beans.” When both the deVeres and the Tennants stared at him in confusion, Malcolm went on with, “Commonly known as itching powder.”

“Itching powder?” Mariah blinked and shook her head.

“Like I said, a schoolboy prank,” Malcolm went on. “But not at this potency, and not when sprinkled through bed linens.”

“Whose bed linens?” Peter asked, scowling at Davy.

“Yours, of course,” Malcolm said. “And Mariah’s.”

Mariah’s eyes went wide, and she glared at Davy. “You? You’re William’s accomplice?”

“I didn’t,” Davy sputtered. “I never.”

She didn’t believe him. Innocent men didn’t squirm and look at their master with terror in their eyes.

“Take him to Snyder,” Peter said in a low voice. “Have his room searched. And ask Mrs. Harmon if Davy had access to Mariah’s tainted soup.”

“Of course he did,” Mariah said. “He served it. He serves all our food.”

“There’s one mystery solved,” Domenica murmured from a few steps behind Mariah.

“Get rid of him,” Peter repeated.

Malcolm nodded, dragging the protesting footman off.

“It’s a good thing Malcolm caught the bastard,” Captain Tennant said, thumping Peter’s shoulder. “Aren’t you allergic to nettles?”

“Very,” Peter growled. “And William knows it.”

“I know what?” William bounded onto the scene with a bright smile and red cheeks, as though he’d run up from the village.

Mariah was ready to give him the slap he deserved, but Peter held up a hand to stop her. He wore his look of stony fury, but did little more than narrow his eyes.

“Your mole has been caught,” he said. “Itching powder?” He took a step toward William, shaking his head as though William were twelve. “What kind of juvenile prank are you planning next? Will you dip Mariah’s pigtails in ink to try to upset her into leaving?”

“Actually,” Mariah admitted, stepping forward. “He may have already tried that. Or something similar. It seems as though half my dresses were—” She cleared her throat, suddenly embarrassed about what Ginny had showed her the day before. “—urinated on. The stains may not come out.”

Peter’s jaw clenched. “Explain yourself.”

William wasn’t moved at all. He shrugged. “Sounds like someone with an infantile mind has been tweaking your nose, Uncle.”

“I believe I know exactly who that mind belongs to,” Peter seethed.

“Davy, apparently,” William went on, breaking into a lop-sided grin. “He fits the bill, after all. Barely twenty, overworked, resentful after you promoted Llewellyn to the position of mine foreman instead of him.”

“Davy never expressed any interest in working at the mines,” Peter said.

“Or perhaps you never cared to listen to him.” William clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I think it’s a clear-cut case of lower-class jealousy, don’t you think?”

“It’s jealousy, all right,” Captain Tennant said, crossing his arms.

“I’ve always known what you were capable of.” Peter shook his head. “But I never realized how low you would stoop.”

“Me?” William pretended to be affronted. “What do I have to do with any of this?”

“There’s no point in pretending innocence anymore.” Mariah stepped forward. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so furious. “Whatever ploys you have to trick Peter into kicking you out, whatever plans you have to keep the two of us apart or to drive me away so that Peter never has an heir, they’re all for naught.”

“You think so?” William crossed his arms, looking down his nose at her.

“I know so. All we have to do is wait.”

“Auntie dear, perhaps your mummy failed to mention these things to you, but you’ll have to do a great deal more before the stork will flutter down to your doorstep.”

It was Mariah’s turn to grin in triumph. She placed a hand on her stomach. “Yes. I know. And Mama was absolutely right when she said that older men make the best lovers.”

It was crude and far more personal than she ever would have dreamed of being in any other circumstance, but her announcement hit its mark. William’s smug expression froze, then gradually soured until he was grimacing at Mariah. At her hand on her stomach.

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s too soon. And you couldn’t have. I made sure of it.”

“We married several days before returning to Starcross Castle,” Peter said, his voice grim, his smile victorious.

“But this is preposterous,” William sputtered on. “An old relic like you? You couldn't possibly.”

“What’s ridiculous is the assumption that a woman would only want a short-sighted young whelp like you,” Domenica said, planting her hands on her hips. “But then, I saw how blinded you are by your own self-importance the first time I met you.”

William sneered at her, but stayed focused on Mariah. “You think you’re clever, do you?”

“I don’t think I’m clever,” she answered. “But I am Peter’s wife, and soon I will be the mother of his child and heir. Where will that leave you?”

“Look who I found on my way back from handing Davy over to Snyder?” Lord Malcolm stepped out into the tension of the garden stand-off once more, this time leading Victoria.

“Look at this,” Victoria said with a nervous laugh. “I brought you all together in the same place like sardines after all.”

Mariah took a step toward her sister, ready to give her a stern lecture. Until she noticed that Victoria’s hair was tousled, her skirt was badly wrinkled, and her bodice was buttoned wrong. She sent a furious look to William instead. “How could you?”

“With pleasure,” William drawled. He turned his sickening grin to Peter. “Ready to throw me out yet?”

Peter bared his teeth, balled a fist, and lunged at William, but Captain Tennant reached out to catch him before he could land any blows. Victoria screamed, and Mariah stood frozen between wanting to punch William herself and cry out for it all to stop.

It was Lord Malcolm who reached William first. He grabbed the younger man’s arm and twisted it behind William’s back with so much force that William pitched forward, his face hitting the grass. Lord Malcolm planted a foot on the small of William’s back and bent to whisper, “Peter might not be able to throw you out without losing half his estate, but if you stay, there’s nothing to keep me from slicing you from throat to balls while you sleep.”

William let out an unmanly whimper, but Lord Malcolm only pulled his arm tighter. Peter gestured to Captain Tennant to let him go, and as soon as he was free, he shook his arms out and straightened his jacket. “I refuse to banish you from Starcross Castle,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “And I refuse to allow you to lock your bedroom doors as well.” He glanced to Lord Malcolm.

“Oh, he can lock his doors all he wants,” Lord Malcolm said. “I have ways of getting around that.”

“I’ll go, I’ll go,” William wept.

“I’ll have Snyder help you pack at once,” Peter said. His voice was as cold as stone, but his eyes flashed with victory.

“One more thing,” Lord Malcolm said, letting William’s arm go, but continuing to stand on his back. “Where are your friends, Poole and Robinson?”

“I don’t know,” William stammered. “Truly, I don’t know.” Malcolm must have pressed down with his foot, because William yelped in pain. “I’m telling the truth. I haven’t spoken to them since this morning.”

“Are you sure he’s not lying?” Mariah asked.

“I’m not lying. Ask Victoria. I’ve been with her since I left the parlor to search for her.”

Dreading what she would see, Mariah turned to her sister. “Is he telling the truth?”

Victoria looked guiltier than Mariah had ever seen her. “Yes, it’s true. We…we had an arrangement. I didn’t really hide. I went straight back into the house, to…to my bedroom. William met me there.” She lowered her head, her cheeks blazing.

“Victoria, for shame.” Mariah marched up to her, wanting to take her by the arms and shake her senseless for ruining herself the way she had. “What would Mama and Papa say?”

Victoria met her eyes with a peevish pout. “We didn’t do anything. William was a perfect gentleman. He read me poetry.” She sent a moony look to William, who crossed his arms in smug satisfaction.

“Oh, Victoria.” Mariah pressed a hand to her eyes, wanting to weep over her sister’s stupidity.

“Don’t ‘oh, Victoria’ me.” Victoria stomped. “William is handsome and dashing, and he has a beautiful townhouse in London and a fancy carriage and a great many friends. And nothing untoward happened.”

Mariah’s eyes snapped wide. “What do you know about his London townhouse?”

“Only that he promised to take me there once we’re married.” Victoria tilted her chin up in defiance.

“My foolish dear,” Mariah groaned. “The house in question likely belongs to Peter. And I doubt very much that William ever intended to marry you.”

“He did,” Victoria insisted. “He does. Otherwise I would never have let him kiss me.” She gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth.

“I think we’ve had just about enough of this,” Peter said. “Malcolm, take William up to his room. If he chooses to stay there, then so be it. But I’ll send Snyder around to see if he’d like help with anything. Such as packing.” He turned away from William as though he never wanted to see him again. “Victoria, I am deeply sorry for allowing you to fall into this unfortunate position, and I promise you that whatever help you may need in the future, should your reputation suffer because of my nephew, I will give it.”

“Reputation?” Victoria laughed, but there was a nervous quickness to the way she looked at everyone who was watching her. “Suffer? What do you mean? Nothing happened. No one will know anything. Unless you tell them.” She gasped. “You wouldn’t be so cruel as to make one little kiss a cause for public scandal, would you?”

Mariah took her hand with a sigh. “No one is going to say anything, but still. Come into the house. I’ll have tea brought up, and you can tell me the full extent of the damage.”

With a longing look at Peter, Mariah led Victoria toward the door to the morning parlor. Domenica whispered something to her husband, then hurried after them. “I thought you could use some support,” she told Mariah.

After the excitement of the morning, the afternoon turned suddenly anticlimactic. Listening to Victoria confess to what she considered much ado about nothing was as far from the euphoria she’d felt with Peter’s arms around her in Anne’s garden.

“I should have kept a closer eye on her,” Mariah confessed after supper, after an exhausted evening of conversation with the guests, and after donning her nightgown and heading straight to Peter’s room once everyone went to bed for the evening. “With everything else going on, I simply lost track of what was most important.”

Peter laughed as he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it into his dressing room. “Now you know how I’ve felt every moment since bringing you home.”

Mariah grinned and crossed the room to slide her arms around his waist. He closed her in a hug that infused her, body and soul, with warmth. It had been far too long since she’d held him, since she’d breathed in his scent and felt his heart beat next to hers.

But before she could get too comfortable, she leaned back. “Did you ever find Poole and Robinson?”

Peter huffed a wry laugh. “They were at the pub in Truro.”

“Really?”

“Oddly enough, yes. The way they tell it, as soon as they met up in the garden after searching for Victoria, they decided the game was ridiculous and opted for a pint instead.”

Mariah frowned. “And you believe them?”

Peter tightened his arms around her, resting his cheek against the side of her head. “I want to believe them. I want to believe that they really are just friends that William decided to invite to the house to spite me.”

“But you don’t think that’s true?”

He let out a breath, shifting so that he cupped her face with both hands. “Could we put off thinking about it until tomorrow? I have much nicer things I’d like to think about at the moment.”

Poole and Robinson were instantly forgotten, and Mariah smiled. She lifted to her toes and kissed Peter lightly, then with more insistence. He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks and kissed her back with all the lingering tenderness of a man who was sipping chocolate for the first time. His lips caressed hers, and his tongue brushed along the seam of her mouth. She opened to him at once, drinking him in and sliding her tongue along his.

“I missed this,” she sighed.

“You did?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I thought you were cross with me.”

Mariah laughed. “I was just cross, and out of sorts, and, if what Domenica tells me is true, suffering from early signs of pregnancy.”

Peter shook his head, sliding his hands down her arms to rest at her sides. “It’s too early, isn’t it?”

“To feel as if my body is going through some kind of momentous change?” She grinned as his hands brushed across her stomach. “I don’t think so.”

A hint of worry pinched Peter’s face. “You don’t think we should…abstain, do you? To keep the baby safe?”

Mariah giggled, stroking his worried face. She hardly saw the lines left by decades of trouble and laughter now. All she saw was the tenderness that radiated from him. “I’m no expert,” she said, “but somehow I don’t think we could do anything but good by loving each other.”

His eyes snapped up to meet hers. “I do love you, Mariah. I love you so much.”

She held her breath, mouth open, heart overflowing. “I can’t see why. I’ve been nothing but trouble for you since we married.”

“You’ve become everything to me,” he said, closing his arms around her fully. “You’ve been such a useful sounding board with the mines.”

She smirked. “The mines have been doing quite well on their own, and the surveyor’s full report is due any day now.”

“And I don’t know how I would have handled William without you there to support me.”

Her brow flew up. “I’ve caused more problems where William is concerned than I’ve solved. Without me around, William would have stayed in London.”

“But he still would have been my heir.”

She smiled. “Now you don’t have to worry about that.”

He stroked her back, letting his hand settle on the curve of her backside. “What if this one is a girl?”

“Then we’ll just have to keep trying.”

His mischievous grin faltered. “What if something happens.”

“What if I miscarry?”

He nodded, lowering his eyes.

“I won’t.” She rested her hands on his face and lifted onto her toes to kiss him. “I’m not Anne.”

“No, you’re not,” he said with growing confidence. But the pinch of worry was still in his eyes. “I don’t want to leave you, not when I’m finally happy.”

She blinked, leaning back. “Who said you’re going to leave me?”

He shrugged. “I’m not a young man.”

Her lips twitched into a wry grin. “Peter, we’ve discussed this before.”

“I know, I know.” He kissed her lightly. “But chances are I’ll die long before you do and leave you alone.”

“But I won’t be alone,” she said, stroking his face. “I’ll have this little one, and hopefully plenty more with me.”

“But—”

“And youth didn’t stop Robert from dying before his time.”

He stilled, regret filling his eyes. “I forgot about Robert.”

“So did I,” she smiled. “Probably for the first time in five years. It’s rather nice, actually.”

His smile returned. “Yes, it is nice to forget the past when it has finished being useful.”

“The point is, we don’t know how long we’ll have together. For all we know, you’ll live to be a spritely one hundred, and our children and grandchildren will roll their eyes at us as we hold hands and steal kisses while tucked up on the sofa together, covered in blankets.”

“I like the sound of that.” He brushed his fingers through her hair and kissed her with a sudden burst of passion. “We’d better get started on those grandchildren right away.”

Mariah laughed out loud. “We’ve already taken care of that, remember?”

Peter shrugged, taking a half step back to work loose the buttons of his vest. “We’ll have to start practicing for next time, then.”

Mariah bit her lip. “I agree.” She reached to help him with his buttons.

Within seconds, their fingers had tangled as they worked to free him from his clothes. Mariah eventually gave up and let him continue on his own while she shimmied out of her nightgown and climbed into his bed. And even though she had spent almost every night at Starcross Castle in the other room, it felt as though she were in her own bed at last. Peter’s scent enveloped her, and the excitement of what was to come had fire racing through her veins.

When Peter returned from his dressing room naked and started putting out the lanterns around the room, Mariah didn’t know whether she wanted to watch him or to urge him to hurry up. She understood now where his powerful physique came from. Memories of him with sword in hand and his shirt sticking to his sweating back returned to her, making her wriggle in anticipation.

“At last,” she sighed when he doused the final lamp and climbed into bed with her. Their bodies molded together, his hardness a perfect match to her softness. The thickness of his erection pressed against her thigh, taking her breath away.

“Why did we stay apart so long?” he asked as he kissed her cheeks, her lips, her neck.

“I can’t remember,” she said, arching into him. “Something silly.”

His only response was a hum as he kissed and licked his way down her neck to her shoulder. “You’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said, continuing along her collarbone and the top of her chest toward her breast.

“And you are very good at tasting.”

He laughed, the vibrations filling her. He reached her breast and took his time as he stroked a hand up her side and lifted her breast to meet his mouth. Mariah gasped at the heavenly sensation, better even than she remembered it. He drew her nipple into his mouth and suckled it, circling his tongue around and around until she was tight and aching. She threaded her hands through his hair, pressing her fingertips into his scalp.

“At the risk of embarrassing myself,” he said suddenly, glancing up to meet her eyes with a look of fire. “I should tell you that it drives me wild when you tug on my hair like that.”

“Really?” She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or hum with pleasure at his confession.

“Particularly when I am in a certain position, engaged in a particular activity.” His cheeks were bright red, even as his eyes shone with desire. The juxtaposition of boldness and bashfulness left Mariah tingling and aching.

“Which activity is that?”

“I’ll show you.”

He lowered to kiss her breast tenderly once more. Mariah caught her breath at the sensation. And then he began to move lower. Not only that, but he drew his arm down her side, over her hip, and across her thigh to hook around her knee. The simple gesture carried with it a world of pleasures that Mariah had yet to explore, but it was the way he drew her knee up and to the side that brought a host of recent memories rushing in on her. She remembered this. She remembered the way he had touched her and kissed her in her most intimate spots when they were newly married. The memory of everything they had done before swirled with the gentle kisses he laid on her stomach now, doubling the ache of expectation building inside of her.

When he shifted to draw her other leg up, exposing her center fully, she could barely breathe with anticipation. He inched lower, out of her reach, as he planted kisses along her inner thighs, but it was the waiting, burning part of her that longed to feel him.

He kissed his way higher and higher up the inside of her thighs until he was so close to her that she cried out in frustration.

“Patience,” he whispered, his breath sending shivers through her.

She laughed at his ridiculous command and caught her hands in his hair the way he said he liked. He rewarded her by closing his mouth over the hot wetness of her folds, and she let out a groan of satisfaction. His hands traveled up her thighs to spread her farther as he tasted her, delving deep, tightening the coil of pleasure inside of her. She’d missed the sensation so much, missed the intimacy of being with him like that. The trust that it took for her to open herself to him, to let him slide his tongue along her most intimate parts, was more potent than any raw pleasure.

She’d been too long without him, without this kind of love in her life, and when he circled his tongue over the fiery nub of her desire, completion rushed through her before she could control it. Her body burst into life, filling with liquid pleasure, as her inner muscles throbbed with her climax. But as beautiful as it was, it was incomplete.

“I love you, Peter,” she called out as the tremors continued to shake her. “I love you.”

He pulled himself up the length of her body to look into her eyes. The combination of joy and surprise that she saw there broke her heart. “You do?”

“How could you doubt it?” she asked.

When he hesitated, she arched up to kiss him, putting her whole heart into it. She circled him with her arms and legs, wanting nothing more than to be one with him so that he could see just how much he meant to her. She dug her fingers into the firm muscles of his back as he smoothed a hand over her side, lifting her hips to meet his. The hard length of him rubbed right where she wanted him, and she sighed at the sensation.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I need you, Peter. I need you inside of me.”

“I love you,” he murmured, close to a growl, and pushed inside of her.

It was bliss. He felt so perfect filling her, stretching her. She lifted her leg and ground against him, working to find the perfect way for their bodies to join. He let out a groan of pleasure as she moved in just the right way, taking him in deeply. He moved inside of her, slow at first as he kissed her lips, her neck. His hand cradled her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple. Every sensation was heavenly.

And then he grew more insistent, thrusting faster and with more purpose. She arched her hips to meet each thrust, which only encouraged him. The languid pleasure he was giving and taking turned to something more urgent. She could feel the muscles of his arms, back and thighs harden as he took her in earnest. She moved her hands lower to cup his backside, digging her nails in to encourage him.

“Mariah.” He breathed her name as an urgent cry while something primal took over. Tension raced through him, and as it did she squeezed her inner muscles around him. Nothing had ever felt so good, so whole, and so wonderful as holding him and giving him pleasure. The whirlwind of her own pleasure swirled harder and harder as he abandoned everything staid and refined to make love to her with the power of instinct alone, and in no time she was crying out with each of his thrusts until completion swallowed her whole once more.

He let go moments later, letting out a rough cry as he came inside of her. She clung more tightly to him as his body tensed, then slowly, beautifully relaxed. Everything about the moment was perfect. Everything except the twinge of regret she felt over having wasted so much time not being with him.

Never again, she swore as he collapsed to her side, weary and spent. She rolled with him, keeping her arms around him and her body nestled against his as they floated down from the heights they had reached together.

“I love you too, my dearest darling,” she panted, threading her fingers through his.

His arms tightened around her, and happiness seemed to tingle in every part of her. Never again would she let anyone or anything come between her and the man she loved.