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returned to England to make amends to the families of the other two dead soldiers. Young Appertan was too soon the earl, without his father’s guidance and knowledge. Michael could help make that right.
    Lady Cecilia had written that the new earl had left Cambridge University to assume his duties. Like a man, Michael had thought at the time, now realizing he’d only made assumptions without knowing the facts. The young Lord Appertan seemed to be a spoiled, arrogant boy who put his own pleasures above duty and responsibility. Weak and selfish, he left the burdens of the earldom on his sister, enjoying all the money and the pleasures for himself.
    Michael could see what kind of woman Cecilia was: hardworking, selfless, beloved by her servants and tenants. And if he worried it was love of power that drove her to exercise control over the estate, he’d soon been able to tell that she was just as open to suggestions from the people below her and would change her mind. She wasn’t afraid of stepping in something unpleasant in a barn or taking a laborer’s dirty hand. He’d watched everyone on the estate consult her even as they praised her to him, her new husband. He’d almost felt proud, as if he’d had something to do with it. In one sense he had: he’d enabled her to have access to her own funds, to do as she needed to guide the earldom. He long ago heard of the late Lord Appertan’s pride in her, and now he knew it was justified.
    And he was still astonished by her range of knowledge about every aspect of the estate. She must have been tutored at Appertan’s side in mathematics and even agriculture rather than simply learning the feminine studies of languages, domestic skills, and artistic endeavors like painting. Although she’d probably mastered those as well from what he’d been able to observe so far. Their written conversations could lead to even better discussions—if she allowed it.
    But there was a sadness deep within her that surprised him. Did others see it, or did they simply want to believe that she was content with her life?
    First, he would make her life easier by teaching her brother to be a man. This should help her soften her regard for him and hasten a more normal marriage. He hoped it would happen quickly because sleeping so near Cecilia might surely destroy his peace of mind.
    M ichael awoke in the morning, feeling tired from his restless night. He’d bathed the night before, so he dressed for the day, looking out the window. He knew who he was looking for: his wife. Perhaps she thought of him, even longed for a man’s touch. He knew what he was missing, after all. He might not be reckless, but he’d had the occasional night with a willing woman. Of course, he had no idea how far things had gone with her suitors before she married him . . .
    Hearing a knock on the door, he went to answer it. Cecilia stood there, hands linked together with casual elegance, fresh as sunshine in her cream-colored gown. He wanted to bask in the warmth of her, and his body, long starved for a woman’s attention, flared to uncomfortable life once again.
    She didn’t cross the threshold. “I thought I would accompany you to the breakfast parlor.”
    â€œVery well.” Picking up the book he intended to return to the library—the nights were long with Cecilia so nearby—he limped into the corridor, and she walked at his side. Her floral scent drifted to his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply, silently, half closing his eyes. But when she glanced at him, he regarded her impassively. In the breakfast parlor, he placed his book on the dining table.
    She glanced at it. “You enjoy reading, my lord?”
    â€œIt is a comfort to me in the field, when there are few others.”
    â€œMilitary history,” she mused, studying the title. “Oliver does not read. He had access to the best education, but he treated it lightly,