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“And Saunders just told me that they are Star of Bethlehem flowers!”

Rees looked at the wilting starflowers. He vaguely recognized them, but the fact was hardly interesting. “Do you think that oboes are too windy to accompany the Captain’s aria?” he asked her.

Helene paused and cocked her ear as if she were listening to silent oboes. “I’d try cellos,” she said finally.

“That’s what I thought,” Rees said with some relief. He played the first few chords again. A three-cello accompaniment would be right.

“Rees, you’re not listening,” Helene insisted.

“What?” he snapped. “I’m busy. I can’t accompany you upstairs at the moment, if that’s what you want.”

“These are Star of Bethlehem flowers,” she insisted. “Saunders just told me that if a woman lies on a bed of Star of Bethlehem, she’ll have an easy childbirth.”

“We’re hardly at that stage yet,” Rees said, trying to keep his mind on the sounds of invisible cellos.

“Not yet,” Helene said, and the happy note in her voice made Rees want to smile. The sound of cellos died. He put a hand on her back, pulling her snugly against him.

“So would you like to do our daily bedding?” he asked, dropping a kiss into her hair. She smelled faintly of flowers herself.

“I’ve already asked Leke to have the coach brought around,” she said.

“What?” He had started nuzzling her neck and wasn’t paying much attention.

She jerked away. “Rees! There’s no need for that sort of thing. We aren’t in the right place.”

He blinked. Yes, there is, he thought. But no. Their bedding was only for conception. Only for children. He reached up and pulled her back. “You’re my wife, Helene,” he said. “I’ll kiss you whenever I want. And I want. We weren’t in the right place last night either.”

For such a practical woman, who eschewed caresses unless quickly followed by a practical bedding, for practical reasons, she melted into his arms with a gasp and a sigh. In less than a second, the blood was raging along his veins. It was as if the cellos had leaped from his script and began a fiery sarabande.

Rees was just starting to think about easing Helene over to the couch when a voice said from the doorway, “The coach is at the front door, Lady Godwin.”

“Oh!” Helene gasped, jumping away from Rees so quickly that he toppled toward the piano bench and slammed his knuckles. “Yes, Leke, we’re coming!” she called.

“Helene, it was raining this morning.” Rees shook his hand, trying to get his wits together. How on earth could a mere touch of her lips turn him into a bumbling adolescent boy, all raging lust?

“Good thought,” she said. “I’ll instruct Leke to place a blanket in the carriage.”

“That wasn’t—” but she was gone, darting from the room.

Rees rubbed his chin. He had bathed, but not shaved in the morning; shaving seemed like too much work since he’d been up half the night working on the tenor aria. And he’d forgotten to send a note around to Darby, although he thought he was working out the problem on his own. What would he ask? How does one tup a lady? It sounded absurd.

Helene reappeared in the doorway. She looked like a graceful little linnet, her beautiful hair ruffled by his hand, her lips stained ruby by his kiss.

“Will we have to make our way to the wood every day?” he asked warily, receiving a glowing smile in return.

“Perhaps.”

The woods were different this afternoon, soft and rain-soaked. They walked along, Rees inspecting the little spigots of water dripping off the oak leaves. The sky was distinctly gray. “It might rain,” Rees said, thinking about just how uncomfortable cold rainwater would feel on his ass.

Helene ignored him. “Look at that fat redbreast!” she said. “He looks just like a plump squire scolding a recalcitrant stableboy.”

Rees gave the bird a glance and it flew away instantly. The truth was he didn’t want to return to Helene’s narrow bed. He didn’t want to wait that long. He was burning, from head to foot, with the desire to get Helene’s clothes off and feast on that lovely body of hers. See her long pale legs spread under him again, hold a breast in his hand so that only a rosy nipple peeked between his fingers, slip another hand under her bottom…He walked faster, blanket thrown over his shoulder.

The clearing looked very different today. All the starflowers were shut up, which turned the space to a muted green, very drowsy and wet looking.

Helene paused. “Do you think that it counts if the flowers aren’t open?” she asked.

“Of course,” Rees said, plowing into the meadow with no regard whatsoever for the water stains that instantly blotched his pantaloons. She was hesitating on the edge of the path, so he said, “You do want to have an easy childbirth, don’t you?”