"You are. It's quite clear that you're laughing at me, and I won't have it. I've been worried about you for so long and waiting and ... wondering. And you gave me this necklace of your mother's and now you are laughing at me." She knew she made no sense, but the choices available to her at this moment were anger or tears, and she would not weep. She would not.

Nathaniel's face had cleared of all laughter, but he didn't try to kiss her again.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I just can't imagine you sitting in your uncle's library making a study of this topic in his medical texts."

"Why not?" she asked. "I read all his books."

He shrugged. "Why not. Well, I suppose because you were so set on yourself as a spinster. I'm surprised you could bring yourself to read about something that didn't concern you."

"I hope to never have plague or gout, either, but I read about those things," she said, knowing that she sounded peevish. She was not being completely honest with him, and it irritated her to be made to explain herself when all she wanted, really, was a simple answer. And the demonstration he had promised her so many days ago on the nature of satisfaction. She glared at him, but he looked back at her without flinching.

"And I was curious." she added, reluctantly.

Nathaniel nodded. "Aye, I can believe that. But most young ladies don't have the opportunity or the nerve to take up a study of the subject, do they?"

This insight took Elizabeth by surprise, and she nodded.

"Wait a minute," Nathaniel said. He stood, unfolding his long legs and pulling her up with him. Then he settled himself on the cot, and her next to him, tucked into his side with his arm around her shoulder. Elizabeth came to him willingly, although she was a bit surprised at this change in direction and purpose.

"So tell me about the other words."

Elizabeth sat away to look at him, but his face was open and his expression guileless, and he waited for her response.

"What do you mean?"

"You said almost all the terms that didn't suit. Which ones did?"

She tried to turn away, but he kept her where she was.

"No," he said. "We've started this discussion and we'll finish it, by God, otherwise you'll never be satisfied. Tell me what you read, Boots." He still was not grinning, and Elizabeth settled in next to him, with some reluctance.

"Two phrases come to mind," she said slowly. "The first is from Timon: "Lovelie Venus sported and with Mars consorted.’ " And because Nathaniel was quiet, she carried on without daring to meet his eye. "The other was from a collection of letters. I can't remember anymore who the author was, but the sentence remains with me. "They were made one flesh by bodily fellowship."

"Is that all?"

"Do you want to hear more?" she asked, surprised.

"If you want to tell me."

She shook him a little, in frustration. "This all started because I wanted you to tell me about your words, and now you've made me give you a history of my reading habits and I must say, Nathaniel, you have quite ruined my mood."

"Oh, have I?" His hand had moved up her arm to her neck, where his fingers tangled lazily in the loose hair curling there. Her skin rose at this gentle plucking, and she gave up her frown with a small sigh.

"Maybe not altogether, then."

"Perhaps not," she conceded, as his fingers continued on their quest.

"Now, about those words you're so curious about. If you ain't satisfied with the fancy terms you know, Boots, then I suppose we must find others that will suit."

She stilled then. His hands were moving over her, but it was his voice that had her whole attention. He kissed her cheek, the corner of her mouth, her ear. "I'm going to undress you now. And then I'm going to make love to you—that's the name we'll put to it for the time being—and as we go along, I'll tell you what you want to know." He blew lightly on the moisture he had left on the soft flesh under her ear and she shuddered with that. "I'll tell you what it is we're doing, in my own words. Will that serve?"

She nodded, because she could not speak.

"And I'll ask you questions now and then to see if you've been paying attention."

Elizabeth's mind was fuzzy with the heat of his mouth at her ear and the pressure of a palm against her breast. It seemed that suddenly there was not enough air to breathe. He took his time kissing her, a long, soft kiss that made every nerve in her flare and then pulse. In response to his gentle prodding, she raised her arms over her head and Nathaniel pulled the shirt up and away, his hands so warm on her naked arms, running down her sides to pull her shift out and up. Then it was gone too and her skin rose in goose—flesh; he was looking at her, his eyelids heavy and his wanting so clear on his face.

"And if you get confused, well, then we'll start again."

She looked down at herself, her plait lying over one shoulder, a dark cable against her white skin. Her breasts, and between them the flower of silver and pearl. Nathaniel leaned back and pulled her down against him so that it was caught between them, her breasts pressed flat against his chest. He kissed her mouth while his hands moved lower to cup her hips. There was a spreading sensation in her that ran like a warm tide.

As she sank further and further into the universe that Nathaniel created with his hands and mouth and body, Elizabeth's perception of their physical surroundings faded, the smells of mineral springs and beeswax giving way to Nathaniel. On some level she had an awareness of her pores opening and her own scent rising to meet him. He was murmuring to her, talking to her between kisses and tangled clothing, laughing softly against her mouth, puffy with his kisses.