Sunny awoke the next morning churning with tangled emotions. The only thing she knew for certain was that she could not bear to face a house full of avid-eyed, curious people. With a groan, she rolled over, buried her head under a pillow and did her best not to think.

But her mind refused to cooperate. She could not stop herself from wondering where Justin was and what he thought of the events of the previous night She was mortified by memories of her wantonness, and angry with her husband for making her behave so badly. But though she tried to cling to anger over his disrespect, other things kept seeping into her mind. Memories of heartwarming closeness, and shattering excitement....

At that point in her thoughts, her throat always tightened. Justin had said he would treat her as a whore, and her response had confirmed his furious accusation.

For the first time in her life, Sunny understand why a woman might choose to go into a nunnery. A world with no men would be infinitely simpler.

Eventually Antoinette tiptoed into the dim, heavily curtained room. “Madame is not feeling well this morning?”

“Madame has a ghastly headache. I wish to be left alone.” Remembering her obligations, Sunny added, “Tell Lady Alexandra not to be concerned about me. I’m sure I’ll be fine by dinner.”

There was a long silence. Even with her eyes closed, Sunny knew that her maid was surveying the disordered bedchamber and probably drawing accurate conclusions.

Tactful Antoinette said only, “After I straighten the room, I shall leave. Perhaps later you would like tea and toast?”

“Perhaps.”

As the maid quietly tidied up the evidence of debauchery, someone knocked on the door and handed in a message. After the footman left, Antoinette said, “Monsieur le Due has sent a note.” Sunny came tensely awake. “Leave it on the table.”

After the maid left, Sunny sat up in bed and stared at the letter as if it were a poisonous serpent. Then she swung her feet to the floor. Only then did she realize that she was stark naked. Worse, her body showed unaccustomed marks where sensitive skin had been nipped, or rasped by a whiskered masculine face. And her body would not be the only one marked this morning....

Face flushed, she darted to the armoire and grabbed the first nightgown and wrapper she saw. After she was decently covered, she brushed her wild hair into submission and pulled it into a severe knot When she could delay no longer, she opened the waiting envelope.

She was not sure what she expected, but the scrawled words, "I’m sorry. Thornborough" were a painful letdown. What was her husband sorry about? Their marriage? His wife’s appallingly wanton nature? His own disproportionate rage, which had led him to humiliate her?

The use of his title rather than his Christian name was blunt proof that the moments of intimacy she had imagined the night before were an illusion. Crumpling the note in one hand, she buried her face in her hands and struggled against tears.

The wretched circle of her thoughts was interrupted by another knock. Though she called out, “I do not wish for company,” the door swung open anyhow.

In walked Katie Westron, immaculately dressed in a morning gown and with a tray in her hands. “It’s past noon, and you and I were engaged to take a drive an hour ago.”

She set the tray down and surveyed her goddaughter. “You look quite dreadful, my dear, and they say that Thornborough left Cottenham this morning at dawn, looking like death.”

So he was gone. Apparently he couldn’t bear being under the same roof with her any longer. Trying to mask the pain of that thought, Sunny asked, “Are people talking?”

“Some, though not as much as they were before I said that Thornborough had always intended to leave today because he had business at Swindon.” Briskly Katie opened the draperies so that light flooded the room. “And as I pointed out, who wouldn’t look exhausted after a late night at such a delightful ball?”

“He was planning to leave early, but not until tomorrow.” Sunny managed a wry half smile. “You lie beautifully.”

“It’s a prime social skill.” Katie prepared two cups of coffee and handed one to Sunny, then took the other and perched on the window seat. “There’s nothing like coffee to put one’s troubles in perspective. Have a ginger cake, too, they’re very good.” After daintily biting one, Katie continued, “Would you like to tell me why you and Thornborough both look so miserable?”

The scalding coffee did clear Sunny’s mind. She was in dire need of the advice of an older and wiser woman, and she would find no kinder or more tolerant listener than her godmother.

Haltingly she described her marriage: the distance between her and her husband, her loneliness, her encounter with Paul Curzon and the shocking result. Of the last she said very little, and that with her face burning, but she suspected that her godmother could make a shrewd guess about what went unsaid. At the end, she asked, “What do you think?”

“Exactly why are you so upset?” Katie asked bluntly

After long thought, Sunny said slowly, “I don’t understand my marriage, my husband or myself. In particular, I find Justin incomprehensible. Before, I thought he was polite but basically indifferent to me. Now I think he must despise me, or he would never have treated me with such disrespect.”

Katie bit into another cake. “Do you wish to end the marriage?”

“Of course I don’t want a divorce!”

“Why ‘of course’? There would be a ghastly scandal, and some social circles exclude all divorced women, but as a Vangelder, you would be able to weather that.”

Sunny sorted through her tangled thoughts. “It would be humiliating for Thornborough. If I left him, people would think that he mistreated me horribly.”

Katie’s brows arched. “Aren’t you saying that he did exactly that?”

“In most ways, he’s been very considerate.” She thought of the bathroom that he had had installed for her, and almost smiled. Not the most romantic gift, perhaps, but one that gave her daily pleasure.

“You’d be a fool to live in misery simply to save Thornborough embarrassment,” Katie said tartly. “A little singed pride will be good for him, and as a duke he will certainly not be ruined socially. He can find another wife with a snap of his fingers. The next one might not be able to match your dowry, but that’s all right. The Swindon roof has already been replaced, and you can hardly take it back. What matters is that you’ll be free to find a more congenial husband.”

The thought of Justin with another wife made Sunny’s hackles rise. “I don’t want another husband.” She bit her lip. “In fact, I can’t imagine being married to anyone else. It would seem wrong. Immoral.”

“Oh?” Katie said with interest “What is so special about Thornborough? From what you say, he’s a dull sort of fellow, and he’s not particularly good-looking.”

“He’s not dull! He’s kind, intelligent and very witty, even though he’s quiet. He has a sense of responsibility, which many men in his position don’t. And he’s really quite attractive. Not in a sleek, fashionable way, but very... very manly.”

Her godmother smiled gently. “You sound like a woman who is in love with her husband.”

“I do?” Sunny tried the idea on, and was shocked to realize that it was true. She was happy in Justin’s presence. On some deep level that had nothing to do with their current problems, she trusted him. “But he doesn’t love or respect me. Last night he said that since I had behaved like a... a woman of no virtue, he would treat me like one.” A vivid memory of his mouth on her breast caused her to blush again.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, but he... offended my modesty.” Sunny stared at her hands, unable to meet her godmother’s gaze. “In fairness, I must admit that I did not behave as properly as I should. I was… shocked to discover how wantonly I could behave.”

“In other words, your husband made passionate love to you, you found it entrancing as well as alarming, and are now ashamed of yourself.”

The color drained from Sunny’s face, leaving her white. “How did you know?”

Setting aside her coffee cup, Katie said, “The time has come to speak frankly. I suppose that your mother told you that no decent woman ever enjoyed her marriage bed, and that discreet suffering was the mark of a lady.”

When her goddaughter nod, Katie continued, “There are many who agree with her, but another school of opinion says that there is nothing wrong with taking pleasure in the bodies that the good Lord gave us. What is the Song of Solomon but a hymn to the joy of physical and spiritual love?”

Weakly Sunny said, “Mother would say you’re talking blasphemy.”

“Augusta is one of my oldest and dearest friends, but she and your father were ill-suited, and naturally that has affected her views on marital relations.” Katie leaned forward earnestly. “Satisfaction in the marriage bed binds a couple together, and the better a woman pleases her husband, the less likely he is to stray. And vice versa, I might add.” She cocked her head. “If you hadn’t been raised to believe that conjugal pleasure was immodest, would you have enjoyed the passion and intimacy that you experienced last night?”

The idea of reveling in carnality was so shocking that it took Sunny’s breath away, yet it was also powerfully compelling. She had come to look forward to Justin’s visits and to long for more of his company. The idea that her response was natural, not wanton, was heady indeed.

More memories of the previous night’s explosive passion burned across her brain. Though the episode had been upsetting, there had also been moments of stunning emotional intimacy, when she and her husband had seemed to be one flesh and one spirit. If such intensity could be woven into the fabric of a marriage, it would bind a man and woman together for as long as they lived. And if passion made a marriage stronger, surely fulfillment could not be truly wicked.

There was only one problem. “I’d like to think that you’re right, but what does it matter if I love my husband and he holds me in contempt? Justin has never said a single word of love.”

Katie smiled wryly. “Englishmen are taught to conceal their emotions in the nursery, and the more deeply they care, the harder it is for them to speak. In my experience, the men who talk most easily of love are those who have had entirely too much practice. The more sparingly a man gives his heart, the more precious the gift, and the less adept he is at declarations of love. But deeds matter more than words, and an ounce of genuine caring is worth a pound of smooth, insincere compliments.”

Abruptly Sunny remembered that Justin had said that he hadn’t looked at another woman since meeting her. She had thought that was merely a riposte in their argument, but if true, it might be an oblique declaration of love. Hesitantly she said, “Do you think it’s possible that Justin loves me?”

“You would know that better than I. But he seems the sort who would be more of a doer than a talker.” Katie’s brows drew together. “Men are simple creatures, and for them, love and passion often get knotted up together. If he does love you in a passionate way, the kind of restrained marriage you have described must be difficult for him.”

And if he was finding the marriage difficult, he would withdraw; that much Sunny knew about her husband. She had regretted the fact that he had never reached out to her with affection, yet neither had she ever reached out to him. Perhaps she was as much responsible for the distance between them as he was.

Attempting lightness, she said, “I suppose the way to find out how he feels about me is to hand him my heart on a platter, then see whether he accepts it or chops it into little pieces.”

“I’m afraid so.” Katie shook her head ruefully. “All marriages have ups and downs, particularly in the early years. I was once in a situation a bit like yours, where I had to risk what could have been a humiliating rejection. It wasn’t easy to humble myself, but the results were worth it.” She smiled. “A witty vicar once said that a good marriage is like a pair of scissors with the couple inseparably joined, often moving in opposite directions, yet always destroying anyone who comes between them. The trick is for the blades to learn to work smoothly together, so as not to cut each other.”

That’s what Sunny and Justin had been doing: cutting each other. Feeling a century older than she had the day before, Sunny gave a shaky smile. “Apparently I must learn to speak with American bluntness.”

“That’s the spirit! But first, you might want to ask yourself what you want out of your marriage.”

“Love, companionship, children. I don’t want to withdraw entirely from society, but the fashionable world will never be the center of my life, the way it is for my mother.” Her brow wrinkled. “Perhaps if my parents had been happier together, my father would not have worked so hard, and my mother would not have cared as much about society.”

“I’ve often suspected that many of the world’s most dazzling achievements are a result of a miserable domestic situation.” Katie considered. “You might want to wait until both you and Thornborough have had time to recover from what was obviously a distressing episode. You were about to take Alexandra to Paris, weren’t you? In your place, I would carry on with my original plans. That will give you time to think and decide exactly how to proceed.”

“I’m going to need it.” Sunny rose and hugged her godmother. “Thank you, Aunt Katie. What can I do to repay you?”

“When you’re old and wise like me, you can give worldly advice to other confused young ladies.” Katie smiled reminiscently. “Which is exactly what I was told by an eccentric, sharp-tongued Westron aunt who sent me back to my husband when I was a bewildered bride.”

Sunny nodded gravely. “I promise to pass on whatever womanly wisdom I acquire.”

But before she was in a position to give good advice, she must fix her own frayed marriage. And that, she knew, would be easier said than done.