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“You told

your mistress about us?”

“You really should thank her, Frances,” he said, trying to cover his chagrin with bravado. “It was Amalie who informed me quite clearly that I should make love to my wife as I made love to her.”

Frances closed her eyes, but in her mind she saw her husband kissing and caressing a very beautiful woman whose face was blessedly blank. She turned slowly away from him, feeling a dreadful pain that she didn’t understand, and walked blindly toward the door.

“Frances, you will not leave. If you don’t come to a complete halt this very minute, I will ravish you right here on your Aubusson carpet. Your show of missishness is absurd.”

“You can’t ravish me,” she said, and reached for the doorknob.

“Try me,” he said, his voice grim.

She suddenly realized the import of her words, and blanched a bit. She looked at him very straightly and said, “I am not pregnant, as of this morning.”

He groaned with heartfelt distress.

“It appears that you will have to visit a lady in York!”

“Were that my intent, she would not be a lady.”

Frances lowered her eyes to the floor.

“Do you feel ill, Frances?”

“No, certainly not,” she snapped, still not meeting his eyes.

“Then why are you acting like an embarrassed chit?”

“I don’t like you,” she said clearly. “I am not a chit, nor am I embarrassed. It is just from what you have said ... well ...”

“Frances, what is in that active mind of yours?”

“Ladies are not supposed to enjoy lovemaking.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then threw back his head, laughing uproariously. He was laughing at himself, of course, but he was quickly brought to see his mistaken course when he felt a candlestick strike his chest.

“You intoxified brute!”

“ ‘Intoxified’? What the devil does that mean?”

“Well, perhaps I meant ‘intoxicated,’ but that doesn’t really make much sense. Oh, you are still a wretch!”

“Frances, I lo—” He broke off, appalled at what he had nearly admitted to her. Now was not the time. Had he lost his mind?

“I am going riding,” she said, and opened the door. “Would you please leave?”

“Yes,” he said slowly, “yes, I shall leave.”

He shook his head ruefully at himself, hearing her bedchamber door slam shut behind him.

The horse stall on wheels arrived that afternoon and caused a great deal of discussion. The smithy had managed to attach a driver’s seat at the head of the stall and two horses would pull it.

“Very clever,” Edmund said, inspecting it closely.

“It will make the racers lazy,” said Beatrice.

“I hope Flying Davie won’t object to it.” Frances said, worried.


Tags: Catherine Coulter Magic Trilogy Romance