“You are a man who enjoys the ladies. You made that plain when I accepted your proposal, but now, it seems of all the ladies in all the beds in all the towns of England, mine is the one bed you won’t share. I must conclude the fault lies with me.”

Nick felt gut-punched as he saw the flickering uncertainty behind the studied composure in Leah’s eyes, and yet, she had her finger on the difficulty: the difficulty was that she was his wife, his countess, and the only woman who could bear his legitimate heirs.

“The problem is that I do not want to have children with you, Leah,” Nick said slowly, staring at his glass. “I’ve been honest about that much from the start.”

“Do you dislike children, Nicholas?”

“I love children,” Nick said on a harsh exhalation. He wouldn’t lie to her about that, but the truth had him so frustrated, he had to set his drink down before he hurled it at the hearth with all the considerable strength in him.

They sipped their brandy in miserable, jagged silence, until Leah laid a hand over Nick’s.

“I have an imposition to ask of you, Husband.”

Nick’s relief that she was changing the subject was pathetic. “Ask,” Nick said, meeting her eyes. “Ask anything.”

“You have offered to pleasure me,” Leah said, a blush heating her cheeks as she spoke. “I would avail myself of your kindness in this regard.”

“My kindness…” Nick closed his eyes. He would love to pleasure her, love it. If she’d allow him that… Even this one last time, he would adore the privilege and pain of it. But he’d proven unequal to the necessary restraint, and so her imposition was an accurately aimed dagger thrust into his floundering self-respect.

“We will not share a roof again,” Leah said, “and you cannot think to leave for London in this downpour, at this hour. Stay with me tonight, Nicholas, please.”

That last word, offered with such longing and sadness, please, it stole under Nick’s defenses, tempted him to folly, and brushed aside rational processes.

Nick was an expert on good-bye sex and the comfort and condolence it could offer. He knew about the tenderness and gratitude an intimate parting could convey, and he knew how to make the experience dear and memorable, and the very best way to slip away from a liaison. He knew all that only because, in the past, he’d been the one to decide the timing of each final encounter, and now Leah had taken the initiative from him.

Leah deserved that at least. She deserved to torture him, and she deserved to have her pleasure of him. Within reason.

“I will need some privacy first, Leah.”

She started to nod, then her eyes narrowed. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said with soft menace. “You will not ease yourself in private then come to me spent and safe, Nicholas. You will show me how to pleasure you and what you had envisioned for us were we not to part. That, or we sleep apart.”

She had him, and Nick knew it. He surrendered with good grace. “Come to bed then. It shall be as you wish.”

The nights at Belle Maison had given them a certain practical ease with each other that served well when they’d closed the bedroom door. Nick unfastened Leah’s dress; Leah relieved him of cravat pin, watch, and boots. He took down her hair; she untied his cravat and fetched his robe while he stripped off his riding attire. She brushed out and rebraided her hair while he used the wash water, then he took Leah’s robe from her so she could follow suit.

The only variation in their nocturnal routine was that Nick tossed the used wash water out a window then refilled the basin and set it on the night table. He also put both of his handkerchiefs on the table beside the basin and towel.

“You’re not going to blow out the candles?” Leah asked, climbing across the bed before taking her robe off again.

“Soon,” Nick said, shrugging out of his robe and settling on the bed, his back against the pillows. Leah drew the covers up to her chin and only then eased off her robe. “You are having a sudden attack of modesty, Wife? Not five minutes ago, you were naked and washing between your legs.”

Leah scowled at him and tugged the covers up higher. “Five minutes ago you were not naked or regarding me with that… anticipatory look in your eyes, and I was behind a privacy screen.”

He was going to miss her until his dying day. “So I am naked, and you must cover up. Interesting.”

A silence fell while Nick considered his next step. Just watching Leah disappear behind the screen with the basin and towel, knowing she’d invited him to be intimate with her, had set his blood galloping around in his groin.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Leah muttered, flopping over onto her side, her back to Nick.

“It was a fine idea,” Nick said, “one of your best, but you’re going to have to come here, Leah, for matters to get under way.”

“Oh, very well.” Leah tossed the covers up and scooted closer to Nick, then settled back down on the pillows. “Now what?”

“I think we need to talk a little more,” Nick said, revising his first set of plans for the evening.

“Talk?” The notion apparently did not comport with her plans. “About what?”

“Come here, lovey.” Nick held out an arm. “And I’ll tell you.”

Leah visually measured the distance to him, her frown deepening. Then she seemed to come to some internal decision and laid herself down along Nick’s side, letting his arm encircle her shoulders. “I’m here.”

“I rejoice,” Nick said, not even half teasing despite the lightness of his tone. His hand came to rest on her shoulders, where he traced the pattern of her bones until he felt Leah’s weight relaxing against him. “We must give some thought to your finances.”

“Finances?” Leah’s brows went up, as Nick’s choice of pillow topics was clearly unexpected.

“I want you to be able to function independently of me,” Nick said. “Nothing aggravates me more than husbands who control their wives through the purse strings but ignore them otherwise. You need to know there’s a strongbox in the bottom drawer of the library desk, with a considerable sum of cash in it. The key is on the mantel under the lathed candlestick on the left. Are you paying attention?”

“Of course,” Leah said, snatching her hand from Nick’s chest as if caught stealing an extra tea cake.

“So where is the key to your strongbox, Wife?”

“Under the candlestick on the left side of the mantel,” Leah repeated, though Nick suspected she was half guessing. “What else would you tell me about finances?”

“I’ll forward to you a quarterly sum adequate for your personal needs,” Nick said, “and fill out some bank drafts as well, so you’ll have them in an emergency. If you want some excitement, I suggest you apply to David, Lord Fairly, to invest your excess funds for you. The man is beyond canny about mercantile matters, and he has a way of discussing business that is very unlike his titled peers.”

“Your titled peers,” Leah corrected him, her hand smoothing over his belly again.

“My peers?” Nick sucked in a breath as Leah’s thumb traced his navel.

“You’re Bellefonte.” Leah yawned and snuggled closer. “You outrank most of the friends who showed up at your father’s funeral.” She circled his navel lazily again. “Greymoor is an earl, but Lady Della told me yours is the older title.”

Nick marshaled his scattered thoughts. “In any case, you will not be in need of funds. Would you like to manage Clover Down?”

That stopped her hand from wandering any lower, much to Nick’s relief. His cock was throbbing to life and would soon be pointing due north if he couldn’t distract Leah and her infernally busy hand.

“Would you like to manage this place?” Nick asked again. “It’s in tidy shape as we speak, and I can add it to your dower estate so it will pass to you upon my death.”

“I have no dower estate.”

No dower estate, no husband worth the name, no children. Hurt for her was going to crush him.