She heard more throughout the day, but lying in his arms made it easier to take and give comfort. Even in his pain Thomas tried to keep his confessions soft, and honest. Edith had suspected many of the things he told her; they reflected what Lucille had bragged or admitted first.

Still it hurt, it bewildered Edith at times. She'd grown up loved and cherished by her parents. Her father had delighted in her accomplishments and treated her well all her life so it seemed inconceivable to her that anyone would raise children the way the two Sharpe siblings had been. The fact that neither of them ever had any true advocate except each other explained much.

"I realized early on that what we were doing, that what we had become was wrong," Thomas murmured. "Yet I could not stop. It had become ingrained in me to support her, to . . . love her. I could have walked away from Allerdale Hall without a qualm. Not Lucille; it was her world."

"You were her world," Edith corrected gently, kissing his head. "Allerdale Hall was where she knew she had control over us."

He made a small sound of agreement as they lay entwined on the alcove bed, sharing comfort rather than sensual intimacy at the moment in the semi-darkness. "I find myself still unable to separate the good from the bad sometimes, Edith. My talents, my tastes, my . . . appetites. Are they truly my own? Or are they forever tainted by my sister's tutelage? What is normality for me?"

Another difficult question, and Edith sighed, her head on his chest. "I don't know. I think that those will be up to you to discern, Thomas."

"I suppose," he murmured uncertainly. "I enjoy . . . laughing. Lucille did not. And reading. I can lose myself in a book such as yours for hours at a time. Treatises, the morning papers, novels . . ."

Edith smiled to herself. "I've brought you two in fact. The Emperor's Candlesticks, and Red Pottage."

"Wonderful! Thank you," Thomas replied. She felt his hands slide down her back, fingers lightly running through her hair. "You've such a waterfall of gold . . ."

"It's a nightmare to comb, and forever falling out of my pins," Edith grumbled. "I once told father I would rather hack it off and pass as his son if I thought could get away with it."

She felt his chuckle under her cheek. "I'm very glad you didn't follow through on that threat. For one thing it would have made our courtship a bit awkward."

"Just a little," Edith agreed. "To say nothing of the reactions of Alan and his mother."

"Ah, but Eunice might have taken a fancy to you," Thomas teased. "Imagine that."

"I'd rather not, thank you," Edith retorted, and giggled. She sobered a moment as something occurred to her, and pushed herself up to look down at her husband, searching his face. "Lucille . . . she dressed as a man, didn't she? When she killed . . . my . . . father . . ." It was hard to ask, and Edith gritted her teeth to get the last of her question out.

Thomas looked up at her beseechingly. "Yes. She told me she was going out, but she never toldl me what she was going to do, I swear! Lucille ordered me to wait at the hotel, saying that you would come looking for me because of the letter with your manuscript. I think . . . I think your father reminded her of our father. The contempt, the humiliating dismissal during the night before. It infuriated her."

Edith nodded, not able to speak, feeling an odd jumble of fresh anger and sorrow at this revelation. "I hate her."

"Edith-"

"No," she spat out. "Hear me out-I do. She killed and felt nothing at doing it. No regret, no second thoughts. For God's sake, Thomas, she ended up killing you. And I will never forgive myself because I didn't stop her from doing that!"

There was more to it of course, but she desperately wanted him to know this particular truth; that his death had hit her hard. "I regretted that we had no time, Thomas. To know each other, to build a life together. Yes it was foolish and impulsive to marry you, and I know I did it in the aftermath of Father's death, but there was love between us."

"Yes," he agreed, touching her face lightly. "Oh yes. When you and I were away from Allerdale, free and . . ."

"Able to be ourselves," Edith prompted. "What we had was true. You believed in me, in my writing. I believed in you and your engineering. We were . . . free."

"Free," he echoed, a brightness coming into his gaze. "Yes, that's precisely what it was. Free to do whatever we like, to go—" Thomas stopped abruptly, letting his hand drop away. "Oh Edith! I'm still caught. Trapped within the boundaries of these holy grounds. This is maddening!"

"We will figure out a way," she announced firmly. "We'll find a way to lay your sister to rest once and for all, I promise you."

"When you say it like that I almost believe it," Thomas whispered, rolling with Edith until she was under him. "I wish I had your strength, little wife."

"You do," Edith began to undo the buttons of his shirt, her intent clear.

He glanced down, startled and then amused, watching her pluck each one open before looking into her eyes once more. "Ah, you . . . ."

"Yes, I want you."

He still looked uncertain although his body responded strongly to her words. Edith fought a laugh as his erection throbbed against her thigh, impressive even through the layers of clothing between them. "Is this all right?"

"Yes, yes . . . !" came Thomas' enthusiastic sigh as he began to undress her as well. He was slower though, treating her as if she were a present being unwrapped, and Edith found herself feeling breathlessly shy as he took his time in slipping her out of her simple travelling dress and petticoats.

"From chickadee to nymph," Thomas murmured in soft reverence. "Kissed with gold and dappled with topaz."

"Shhh," Edith chided, feeling flattered and embarrassed all at the same time. "You needn't woo me again; I'm already your wife."

"The very reason I should," he told her, following it with a kiss that trailed from her mouth to her chin to her throat. Edith tried to kiss back, but Thomas was quicker, moving down her slight frame with little nibbles that left her breathing more and more erratic.

"There is a scent to your skin that intoxicates me," he purred. "Coriander, and your own natural sweetness."

"Thomas . . ." Edith tried not to laugh at his poetic turn; the romantic streak in him added to his charms, particularly in moments like this. "You're tickling me!" She rolled over under him, tossing her long hair back.

This deterred him not at all, and he stretched himself out along Edith's back, burrowing his face in it along the side of her neck. "Know that I am willing to kiss whatever side of yourself you present to me."

"That would be scandalous," Edith murmured, feeling slightly shocked and at the same time, aroused.

"Would it?" he sounded uncertain, so she turned her face to meet his, and arched her spine to force her bottom up against him in a defiant little caress.

"Utterly," she told him with affection. "And since you know much more about scandalous behavior than I do I believe some tutoring may be required."

It seemed to be the right thing to say, and when he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her up on her hands and knees, Edith let him, shivered hotly. Thomas brushed her long curls over her right shoulder, and ran his hands down her ribs, stroking her in gentle glides. "This is another way we may find pleasure in joining," he murmured. "More primal, this du chien."

"Show me," Edith ordered, fighting more shivers when he licked a long stripe up her back. The heat of his breath and scent of his skin were making her slightly frantic, susceptible to the slightest touch. When Thomas slid a warm hand up the inside of one thigh, the delight drove a moan from her.

Edith had always thought herself a rational woman, a person grounded in clear-headed reason, but this new realm of physical sensuality left her dazed. She squirmed, her breath coming in little gasps as she ground against Thomas' hand, which had wandered between her thighs, caressing the damp tuft there.

He hummed a hungry note, kissing her spine, moving down and nipping at the rounded cheeks of her bottom. Edith's shock instantly disappeared under the magic of little electric jolts of desire heating her skin. She drew a shuddery breath. "Ooooohhhhh," she sighed in a drawn-out note of surprise and joy.

"More?" he asked against her skin, his words felt more than heard.

Not trusting her voice, Edith nodded. Vigorously.

Thomas laughed low in his throat and dipping his head nuzzled under her ass, his face brushing against the delicate curls between her spread thighs.

She felt his tongue stroke there, and cried out, her body jolted into a long flex of joyous pleasure rolling through her in waves at the sensation, the little pearl of her pleasure throbbing against his caressing licks.

Too much; Edith felt her arms falter, and she dropped her head, the side of her face against the mattress as she tried to catch her breath. She'd enjoyed their couplings before, yes, but this intensity, this unexpected aching delight was nothing she'd ever had before.

"Edith . . ." she tried to look over her shoulder but her hair was in the way, so she waved a hand and groaned happily, not sure she could speak yet. She felt Thomas shift behind her, and then felt the warm press of him along the slickened seam of her sex.

She groaned again, putting as much consenting desire as she could in the sound. As Thomas drove himself into her, the deep stretch of accommodating him sent another wave of pleasure through her body. Edith arched back, her hands braced instinctively against the mattress.

Each stroke felt exquisite, thick and deep. Edith groaned, aware of Thomas' hands on her hips, aware of rocking back to meet his thrusts, of feeling the slow and building roll of sullen delight growing within her again. She couldn't think, and didn't try, savoring instead the intimate joy of being loved, of bringing pleasure to Thomas as he rocked against her thighs, his panting louder now.

He spilled, thrusting hard, crying out her name in a slur of sound, and the heat of his seed tipped her once again over into the mindless pleasure that rolled through her in glorious waves that shook her slender form.