And freedom. The wild expanse beyond their windows.

The potion tasted vile, but Richard doggedly sipped-and planned how to celebrate his vigor once it returned.

His musings were interrupted by Devil, who opened the door and strolled in, followed by Vane and Gabriel.

"While our wives and esteemed parent are busy hatching plans, we thought we'd come up and commiserate." Devil grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." Draining the last of the potion and swallowing it with a grimace, Richard realized that was true. He set the beaker aside. "I suspect I'll have to endure a few more days, but…"

"Just make sure you recover fully," Gabriel cautioned. "Be damned if I'm riding this far north again if you suffer a relapse."

Vane chuckled. "Your wife seems convinced you'll be your old self any day, and I rather suspect she knows best."

"Hmm." Richard eyed them speculatively. "Actually, I was just planning a little adventure, so to speak, to celebrate my return to the living."

"Adventure?"

"How little?"

"What sort?"

Richard grinned. "Nothing too outrageous, but we haven't had any serious excursions, not since Waterloo. I don't know about you, but two weeks in a bed has sharpened my appetite."

"That's hardly suprising," Devil returned, "in the circumstances. But what about this adventure?"

Richard threw a cushion at him, which landed on target and made him feel much better. "If you don't keep a civil tongue in your head, I won't tell you. I'll just ride off one morning and you'll have to wait until I get back."

"Ride?"

"Where to?"

"I promise to be excessively civil."

"Well…"-Richard pulled at his earlobe-"it so happens I'll need help for this venture-at least a couple more riders. If, of course, you think you can spare the time for a little lark before heading south to more civilized climes?"

Devil raised his brows in mock exasperation. "Forget the jokes-what's the plan?"

"Catriona?"

Caught in the act of pushing away from the desk in her office, Catriona looked up. Devil stood in the doorway, with Vane just behind him. "Is anything wrong?" she asked.

"No, no!" Devil entered; Vane followed. Devil smiled ingenuously. "We just wondered if you could spare a few minutes to explain a few things to us."

He wanted something; Catriona could tell by that smile. Calmly settling back in her chair, she waved them to the two chairs facing her. Melchett had just departed, having looked in to tell her all was on track for the spring plantings to be done as she'd directed. Upstairs, Richard was with Worboys, getting dressed for his first attempt at the stairs. Her world was serene, on course. And the two before her were now part of it. "How can I help you?" she asked. "Whatever it is, if it's in my power, naturally, you have only to ask."

Devil's smile broadened. "It's about the crop yields. Richard told me what you achieve here-"

"And Corby happened to mention the tonnage you clear from your orchards-and how old your trees are." Vane raised his brows. "Frankly, if I didn't know he wasn't lying, I'd have said he'd dreamed the figures up."

Catriona smiled. "We do very well, that's true."

"Not very well," Devil corrected her. "Astonishingly well." He met her gaze. "We'd like to know how you manage it."

Catriona held his gaze and swiftly considered her options. She had said she would give them anything in her power; there was no reason she couldn't answer their question. Her only worry was that they wouldn't believe her-or wouldn't have a sufficiently open mind to understand. Then again, they had come to her and asked. And, as one of The Lady's disciples, it behooved her to spread Her message as widely as she could.

Drawing a slow breath, she nodded. "Very well. But you'll need to bear in mind that what I tell you is a… a philosophy rather than a prescription." She glanced at Vane. "So the answer is the same for both crops and orchards, indeed, for anything that grows. And the philosophy holds true for all arable lands, whether in the shadow of Merrick, or in Cambridgeshire, or in Kent."

They both nodded. "So…" Devil prompted.

"So," she said, "it's a question of balance."

"Balance?"

"What you take out must be put back, if you wish to take out again." Catriona leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk. "Each patch of soil has certain characteristics, certain nutrients which allow it to bear crops of such and such a nature. Once the crop is grown, however, the nutrients used in the bearing are depleted in the soil. If the soil is continually planted, it will continue to deplete and bear poorer and poorer crops until it fails. Crop rotation helps, but even that does not return the nutrients to the soil. So if you want to continuously crop, and crop well, then you need to renew the soil, replace the nutrients used, after each cropping. That's the fundamental point-the need for balance-in and out."

Vane was frowning. "Just go back a minute. Do you mean that for each particular crop, in each particular field, you need to work out a… a…"

"An understanding of the balance of the nutrients involved?" Catriona nodded. "Precisely."

"This balance," Devil leaned forward. "How's it measured?"

They questioned her, and she answered and explained; Devil asked for paper and sketched some of his fields-Vane listed the fruits and nuts he grew. They discussed, and even argued, but not once did they doubt, or give any hint that they dismissed her guidance. Quite the opposite.

"I'll try it," Devil declared, "and you'll have to come and talk to my foremen when you visit." He folded the sheet of paper on which he'd jotted notes. "If we can achieve even half of what you do here, I'll die happy."

Considering his own sheet of notes, Vane grinned. "My men are going to think I've taken leave of my senses, but… it's my fields-and my gain." Looking up, he smiled at Catriona. "Thank you, my dear, for sharing your secret with us."

"Indeed." Rising as she did, Devil waggled his brows at Catriona. "Doubtless the most useful lady's secret I've ever learned."

Laughing, she waved them out; they went with sweeping bows. Sitting back down, she couldn't stop smiling. After a minute, she tidied her desk, then went upstairs to gauge Richard's strength.

"Ah-there you are."

Catriona looked up from the garden bed she'd been contemplating, one she hoped would soon show a few green shoots. Gabriel was making his way between the beds toward her, patently trying to see what she'd been studying in the winter brown earth.

"Is there anything there?"

"No." Catriona grinned. "I was merely checking. Is there something you need?"

He straightened and smiled "Not exactly-I heard of the advice you gave to Devil and Vane."

"Ah, I see." Catriona waved him to join her as she ambled on down the path. "And what do you grow?"

"I don't-at least, not in the same sense " He grinned down at her. "I grow money-from money"

"Oh." Catriona blinked. "I don't think I can give you any advice there."

"Probably not," he affably agreed. "Not but what that balance idea of yours is quite close to the mark-but in investing it's risk and return that create the balance."

Catriona held his gaze. "I'm afraid," she said, "that I don't really know much about investing."

His grin widened. "Few people do-which brings me to my point. In light of your sterling advice to the others-which in turn benefits me, as Devil's wealth underpins the family ducal purse and both he and Vane invest through me, so the more funds they have to put in, the wealthier we all, myself included, become-I'd like to offer you my help in making investments in the same way I help all the rest." He stopped and smiled at her. "You're family now, so it's only fair."

Catriona stared into his eyes, a light hazelly brown, and let his words and his smile warm her. "I… " She hesitated, then nodded "I think I'd like that. Richard invests with you, doesn't he?"

"All the family do. I oversee the investments, and Heathcote Montague, our joint man of business, acts as our executor." Gabriel grinned. "That means I do all the talking and investigating and he takes care of the boring formalities."

Catriona nodded. "Tell me more about what you do. How do these investments of yours work?"

They ambled through the gardens for close to an hour, by which time she'd learned more than enough to know that he, at least, knew precisely what he was talking about. "Very well." With a nod, she halted at the entrance to the gardens. Here was an opportunity to establish the vale's future income for all time. Gabriel would invest their excess funds for her-the income would be there to tide the vale over any lean years, should such ever come to pass. She nodded again and refocused on Gabriel's face. "I'll talk to McArdle and get the funds transferred-Richard will know the direction."

Gabriel's easy smile lit his face; hand over his heart, he bowed. "You won't regret it, I swear." He straightened, eyes twinkling. "Welcome to yet another aspect of our family."

Richard entered the dining hall that evening to a rousing chorus of cheers. The whole household stood and clapped. His slow stroll disguising his lack of strength, he grinned and nodded gracefully, his expression one of amused affability But when he met Catriona's gaze as he reclaimed his seat beside her, she could see the warmth, the joy, the affectionate acceptance, burning in the blue of his eyes.

She smiled mistily and quickly sat so that he could sit, too. The cheering subsided, and the first course was brought out.

Beneath the table's edge, Richard clasped her hand briefly, then frowned at the serving dish placed before him. "Good heavens! Is that turbot''"

"Hmm-mm." Drawing the dish closer, Catriona heaped some on his plate. "Cook said it was one of your favorite dishes."

"It is." Bemused, Richard stared at it, then looked at her. "But wherever did she get turbot up here?"

Catriona raised her brows haughtily "We have our ways."

He hesitated, then grinned, and gave his attention to the turbot.

The entire meal was a succession of Richard's favorite dishes-a fact that did not escape him He caught Cook's eye and saluted her, which made her blush vividly even while she nodded graciously.

He leaned closer to Catriona. "I'd go down and thank her, but…" He grimaced.

Catriona smiled, and fleetingly leaned her shoulder against his. "You can speak to her tomorrow, or the day after, when next you go through the kitchens."

He trapped her gaze and slowly arched a black brow. "That soon?"

The words hung between them, layered with meaning. The air about them grew dense, shutting everyone else out. Catriona felt her lungs lock. "Oh, I think so," she managed, conscious of that sudden skittering excitement that she hadn't felt for too long. The rest of the room had vanished, all she could see was the blue of his eyes. "You should be able to… get up… er, completely, any day now."

His lips quirked; a wicked glint lit his eyes. "You've no idea," he drawled, "how thankful I am to hear that."

Breaking eye contact, Catriona reached for her wineglass and took a much needed sip. "Yes, well-there you are."

"Hmmm-and where will you be?"

Flat on her back beneath him. "Busy," Catriona stated repressively.

"Oh, I think I can guarantee that," the reprobate she'd married agreed.

Catriona awoke the next morning, and saw-knew-what it was that the Cynsters had brought to the vale. The knowledge carne as a revelation-a flash of insight, a crystal clear certainty. And in the same revealing moment, she saw their marriage-hers and Richard's-in its entirety, its full meaning, its full glory. Saw why The Lady had directed her to his arms.

She was there still; she knew, in that moment, that she would remain there for all time. He slept behind her, wrapped around her, his breath, softly huffing, caressing her nape, one arm possessively protective, over her waist.

He'd needed her-to provide an anchor for his restless soul, to give him the home and position he'd needed, to be his warrior's cause.

But she'd needed him, too-in more ways than one. He'd recognized from the beginning, and forced her to see, too, that she needed him to protect her and to ease the burdens that were hers through her responsibilities to the vale. What she hadn't seen-couldn't have seen-and what he may not have guessed, was that she needed more than that.