Judith turned her head toward him without relinquishing her spot in Ellie's arms. "Go ahead."

"I need to speak with her privately."

Judith snorted in a vaguely insulted manner. She climbed off the bed, turned her nose up at Charles, and said to Ellie, "I shall be in the nursery if you need me."

"I shall remember that," Ellie replied gravely.

Judith marched to the door, then turned around, ran back to Charles, and kissed him quickly on the back of his hand. "Because you're such a sourpuss," she said, "and you ought to be a sweetpuss."

He tousled her hair. "Thank you, poppet. I shall try to behave accordingly."

Judith smiled and ran from the room, carelessly letting the door slam behind her.

Ellie switched her gaze to Charles. "You look very serious."

"I am," he blurted out, his voice sounding funny to his ears. Damn, but he felt like a green boy. He didn't know why he should feel so nervous. It was clear she held him in a certain measure of affection. It was just that he'd never said, "I love you," before.

Hell, he'd never expected to lose his heart to a wife, of all people. He took a deep breath. "Ellie," he began.

"Has someone else taken ill?" she asked, her face growing concerned. "The custard—"

"No! No, it's not that. It is simply that there is something I must tell you, and"—his face grew impossibly sheepish— "and I don't quite know how to go about doing it."

Ellie chewed on her lower lip, feeling suddenly quite heartsick. She'd thought their marriage was progressing so well, and now he looked as if he were about to ask for a divorce! Which was ludicrous, of course—a man in his position would never ask for a divorce, but Ellie had a bad feeling about this all the same.

"When we wed," he began, "I held certain notions about what I wanted out of marriage."

"I know," Ellie interrupted, panic rising within her. He'd made those notions clear, and her heart skipped a beat just thinking about it. "But if you think about it, you'll realize that—"

Charles held up a hand. "Please let me finish. This is very difficult for me."

It was difficult for her, too, Ellie thought glumly, even more so since he wasn't letting her state her case.

"What I'm trying to say is... Bugger." He raked his hand through his hair. "This is more difficult than I'd anticipated."

Good, she thought. If he was going to break her heart, she didn't want it to be easy for him.

"What I'm trying to say is that I had it all wrong. I don't want a wife who ..."

"You don't want a wife?" she choked.

"No!" he practically yelled. Then he continued in a more normal tone, "I don't want a wife who will look the other way if I stray."

"You want me to watch?"

"No, I want you to be furious."

Ellie was by now on the verge of tears. "You deliberately want to make me angry? To hurt me?"

"No. Oh, God, you've got it all wrong. I don't want to be unfaithful. I'm not going to be unfaithful. I just want you to love me so much that if I did—which I'm not going to—you would want to have me drawn and quartered."

Ellie just stared at him while she digested his words. "I see."

"Do you? Do you really? Because what I'm saying is that I love you, and although I very much hope you return the feeling, it's perfectly all right if you don't just yet. But I need you to tell me that I can hope, that you're coming to care for me, that—"

A choking sort of sound emerged from Ellie's throat, and she covered her face with her hands. She was shaking so hard he didn't know what to think. "Ellie?" he said urgently. "Ellie, my love, say something. Please talk to me."

"Oh, Charles," she finally managed to get out. "You're such an idiot."

He drew back, his heart and soul aching more than he ever thought possible.

"Of course I love you. I might as well have written the words on my forehead."

His mouth fell slightly open. "You do?"

"I do." It was hard to hear her voice, for she was speaking through laughter and tears.

"I thought you might, actually," he said, teasing her by adopting his favorite rakish expression. "I've never really had much trouble with women before and—"

"Oh, stop!" she said, throwing her pillow at him. "Don't ruin this perfectly perfect moment by pretending you orchestrated the entire scenario."

"Oh?" He raised a brow. "Then what should I do? I've been a rake my entire life. I'm at a bit of a loss now that I'm reformed."

"What you should do," Ellie said, feeling a smile begin at the core of her being, "is come over here to this bed and give me a big hug. The biggest you've ever given."

He closed the distance between them and sat by her side.

"And then," she continued, her smile now on her face, in her eyes, even in her hair and toes, "you should kiss me."

He leaned forward and dropped a feather-light peck on her lips. "Like this?"

She shook her head. "That was much too tame, and you forgot to hug me first."

He gathered her into his arms and pulled her onto his lap. "If I could hold you like this forever, I would," he whispered.

"Tighter."

He chuckled. "Your stomach... I don't want to—"

"My stomach feels remarkably restored," she sighed. "It must be the power of love."

"Do you really think so?" he asked, chuckling.