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She tried not to stare at the bed—a masterful creation she imagined would have satisfied even the late Marie Antoinette.

The mattress was twice the size of her old one.

Gilded leaves and crescents embellished the perimeter of the headboard and beaded tassels hung down from the canopy.

The pillowcases and quilt were the same yellow and white color scheme as the other linens in the room.

“It’s too lavish, Albie,” she told him, trying to keep her enthusiasm in check.

They had rooted this arrangement in the perfect balance of serving one another’s needs.

She didn’t want him to think her as shrewd as her father: a woman who had entered this partnership to reap the material rewards of it.

At least not for that reason alone. “I mean this in all earnestness. Everything is lovely, but I would have been content with far less.”

He waved his hand dismissively, as he was prone to do. The gesture communicated both acknowledgment of the other person’s point and steadfast loyalty to his own.

“Let me show you my suite. It’s larger than what I’ve grown accustomed to at the Albany. You’ll have to help me figure out how to utilize it all.”

She followed Albie to his side of the upper story. He had a washroom with a big metal tub, a chamber for sleeping with a giant bed she tried not to stare at too hard, and a drawing room, small but only in comparison to the one downstairs, for receiving visitors.

He moved to the last room in his set. The low doorway caused Albie to duck as they crossed the threshold.

Inside, the ceiling was slanted, lending the space chic asymmetrical lines.

It was free of clutter or furnishings, save for a simple, oversized cherrywood writing table with a single drawer.

Her finger trailed the smooth desktop, which smelled pleasantly of varnish.

“I had them set that out there for correspondence, but primarily plan to work on my paintings in here,” he told her. “Promise you won’t peek inside.”

“Why ever not? I would like to see what you’re working on.”

“That is precisely why I must ask you to refrain. One of the liberating qualities of painting is knowing the work is for my eyes alone. If I expect someone else will look, my nerves get the best of me, and I find it difficult to continue. My mind goes all a muddle and such.”

A shy smile filled his face, making her breath catch in her throat. Diana caught a glimpse of him again. The secret side of Albie. The man she fancied.

“Very well,” she said. “I promise to stay away so long as you promise I shall have the honor of seeing your paintings. Once you feel comfortable. But that is the extent of the prohibitions, I take it?”

“As for the other rooms, you are welcome to visit whenever you see fit.”

He approached her but stopped short of taking her in his arms. Which she should have been glad for, as it signaled his respect—but also left her vaguely disappointed.

Still, Albie was near enough that Diana drew in the bergamot and lavender cologne and the warm, salt-tinged scent of his skin that she found so entrancing.

By now, she should have grown accustomed to his effect on her. He had said marriage could be fun. Why shouldn’t it be, after all, no matter their intentions?

She wanted Albion, but could not forget her past. Her imprudent behavior once humiliated her family. Humiliated Lillian. While status shielded her from scandal, and their wedding freed her physically, the shame remained, stubbornly clinging to heart and mind.

But the shame now tangled with an equally powerful force. Her desire. And the more she tried to push it away, the more it threatened to consume her.

Albion had spent the time prior to Daisy’s arrival pacing the rooms upstairs. Now, waiting for her to come down for their first supper as husband and wife, he found his anxiety had accelerated rather than diminished.

The echo of their kiss rendered his body desperate with longing but also aching with fear.

Though well familiar with how to pleasure a woman, he had never before tried to transform a friendship into something more.

Nor had he ever engaged in an act with someone for whom he had developed an emotional attachment.

He must get a hold of himself.

When Daisy came down for dinner at last, she wore the beautiful blue gown he remembered from Lady Bellingham’s rout with the matching headpiece of embroidered daisies.

While he had once considered a thousand things to say to her, once granted time alone together, those wisps of thoughts dissipated before he could remember any of them.

And she sat in silence, tearing the bread crust on a small dish before her into smaller pieces than warranted.

After another moment of awkwardness and berating himself for not having something delightful and droll to say, the new footman Daisy had asked him to engage, Isaac, arrived with their meal. All the courses were served together as he preferred to take them when dining at home.

At last, she broke the silence.

“Everything smells delicious,” she said. “Are any of these dishes from your native land? I would love to try them.”

“If you want true Orcan fare, we should dine with my brother. Remember what I shared about some of the choices of cuisine he made for his wedding?”

“That’s right. The food of your homeland is not to your taste.”

“The sauces and puddings the English are so fond of are more pleasing to the palate.”

“Well, I think we can thank the French for that,” Daisy commented, tucking her serviette over her lap. “And other influences. I imagine basic English staples are similar to the Orcan selections. After all, we share this island. Even if we didn’t know it until recently.”

“Forgive me, but we’ve known about you since the time of the Roman Empire. We chose not to reveal ourselves until we could do so safely.”

“How sad. Are we such a danger?”

“One never knows. Certainly, caution is the best course of action until a society is assured of the ability to protect and maintain its civilization.”

“You do not strike me as a cautious fellow, husband.”

“That is a quality I hope we share.”

“I would not be here were it not so.”

Daisy used the small ladle provided to drizzle her salmon filet with a cream dressing.

She sampled a bite and closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the play of white wine with lemon in the rich sauce.

He watched the pleasure pass over her delicate features.

It brought to mind imaginings of her lovely face under the spell of other types of gratification.

He took another long swallow of wine, trying to keep his claws from retracting—the tell-tale sign of his lust. He hoped that this particular detail of Orcan anatomy was not one she was familiar with at present.

“You have a talented chef at your disposal. Izzie shall be happy enough to learn how to prepare these decadent dishes. Still, I want to try Orcan food. And to know more about your homeland. What is the weather like? Are people friendly when you first meet them? What do you do in your spare time?”

“Is this the game of Twenty Questions the English enjoy? I was asked to take part in such an amusement after a supper party not long ago.”

“None such. In that game, one is restricted from any answer other than yes or no. I ask that you expand on your answers to my inquiries.”

“Hmm.” He tapped his fingers together. Her questions were reasonable enough, but The Hidden Realm was his past. Daisy was his future—or, at minimum, his enjoyable present.

“Mostly rainy. A touch stand-offish until you get to know them, at which point they are the warmest people on the face of the planet, I’d wager.

As for our spare time… we partake in the same pastimes: horse riding, gambling, and reading.

Though I daresay most orcs lack a taste for parlor tricks or multiple courses of rich food like the English. ”

Daisy picked up her pewter fork to slice off another bite of salmon. As she chewed thoughtfully, Albion remained preoccupied with her sensual lips and dainty hands, wondering how they would feel pressed into his flesh.

“What of the political landscape in your land?” she asked. “Women have a larger role? Tell me more about that.”

Albion leaned forward and smiled. He’d hoped she would ask.

“My Daisy,” he told her. “Prepare yourself. I think you will very much enjoy what I am about to say.”