She leaned into him, folding her free hand over his as he captured her palm. "What's it like in other countries?" she asked, her curiosity piqued now. "I've never been outside the city, really. Not even to the coast."

Lorenzo shrugged. "It is hard to describe. Carantania, of course, is famous for its coffee and chocolate. I must say, I have never seen such incredible architecture as that of Carantania. Pomerania is much different. There are mountains there so high they seem to touch the sky. They are known for some of Meringia's finest wines."

"They sound so different," she commented, reclaiming her hands to pull off her gloves and hand them to her lady, standing nearby. "But Pont-Elise is just as beautiful, isn't it?" she added, peering down to try and undo the knot of her cloak at her neck.

"All the countries of Meringia are very different from each other, Lena," he told her. Though he had not traveled extensively to many of them, he had been taught the differences in his lessons growing up. "Would you like to visit any of them someday?" he asked, stepping in behind her and helping her with her cloak.

As the knot came loose, she felt his hands on her shoulders, taking the weight of the wool and fur from her, smiling as she turned toward him once again. "I don't know," she admitted. "Do you think I would enjoy it' I trust your opinion."

"I am asking what you think," he clarified, with a small frown as he handed the cloak to her maid. She may not have been raised to think for herself or to ask questions, but he wanted her to feel free to speak her mind around him and to indulge her curiosity.

"I have never thought about it," she answered easily enough, reaching up to twist a lock of his hair back from his brow. "My world is a small one, I suppose. I love our home. I do not think I could imagine being away from it." As her hand descended, her lips quirked into a wicked little grin, and she inserted her cold fingertips down his collar to chill his neck.

He suddenly yelped and pulled away in an attempt to dislodge her hand from his collar, taken entirely off guard. "You wicked woman!" he said, chuckling even as he shuddered with cold. "Just for that, I should take you over my knee!"

Pulling her hand free, she skipped back a step or two, laughing delightedly. "You wouldn't dare!" was her counter. "I know where you are most ticklish!" She wriggled her fingers in his direction.

"And I know where you sleep at night!" he countered, furrowing his brows at his own threat, which wasn't much of a threat, since she had slept right beside him the night before. How many times had they teased each other and argued like this as children" "Er ..." he murmured, uncertainly.

Despite his uncertainty, Madalena was bright with laughter still, darting forward to this time shove her cold hands up beneath his tunic and shirt to tickle his stomach before skipping away. "I owe you for not telling me where you hide your sweets!"

He yelped again, catching her around the waist before she could escape and setting about tickling her sides. "And you think that sticking your freezing hands up my shirt will make me tell you?!" he declared, not really expecting an answer. His eyes flashed, but not with anger, only amusement at her antics.

She squealed, wriggling in his grip as giggles fell from her lips with every tickling twitch of his fingers. "It was my revenge for you not telling me!"

"Maybe you should have asked nicely!" he countered, only relenting once she was out of breath, though his arms were still wrapped around her waist, her body uncomfortably close to his.

"I did ask nicely, last night!" She laughed, breathless and warm, absently wrapping her arms about his shoulders to keep herself on her feet as she looked up at him. "You're so mean, Lory."

"And then you fell asleep!" he reminded her. To be fair, he'd fallen asleep, too, but that wasn't the point. He blinked, looking around briefly to see if anyone had overheard. "Shhh," he told her, touching a finger to her lips to silence her once again, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear them, though he was the head of the household. "Hot cocoa, remember?"

Giggling beneath the press of his finger, she grinned up at him, green eyes crinkled with laughter. "If I am very good and warm up my hands before touching you again, may I have some cocoa, husband-mine?" she asked impishly.

"Do you ..." He trailed off, stammering. "Do you want to touch me?" he asked her uncertainly and just a little bit nervously, momentarily forgetting completely about the hot cocoa.

She blinked, surprised to hear him stammer, but equally surprised by the question. "I ....Well, I wouldn't mention it, if I didn't want to," she said quietly. "Is it so hard to believe that I like you that way, Lory?"

"Like me?" Lorenzo echoed. He knew she liked him well enough, but he'd always assumed she thought of him as nothing more than a friend, despite the fact that they'd always known they'd be married. "I like you, too, Lena," he assured her, though he wasn't sure he meant it the same way that she did.

For just a moment, the smile in her eyes dimmed before returning, assuming that he meant simply that he enjoyed her company. But she had always known that she was unlikely to be gifted with love in marriage; she was prepared for it. Sliding her hands down to his chest, she nodded. "That is good, then."

"I have always liked you," he added, trying to clarify what he was saying. He'd noticed the way her face had faded, if only momentarily, but he wasn't quite sure why. "Come ....Let's warm you up," he told her, snagging her hand - cold or not - and leading her further into the house, toward the sitting room with its roaring fire. "Sit here," he told her, gesturing toward a chair near the fire.

Tugged after him, Madalena took control of her expression and brought the sunshine back into her smile while he wasn't looking, offering up a genuine smile as she sat where he told her to. "Oooh, that is warm."

Without a second thought, she dropped her shoes to the floor and lifted her skirts, waving her stockinged feet toward the fire with wriggling toes.

"Stay there!" he told her. "I will be right back." And off he went to fetch a blanket and the hot cocoa he'd promised her. He didn't really want to leave her alone, but he'd only be a few minutes.

Startled by his sudden exit, she looked down at the dogs, who had taken advantage of the open door to come and lounge by the fire themselves. "Did I upset him, do you think?" she asked them softly, not expecting anything in return and not receiving it anyway. "I'm so nervous of saying something wrong. You know him better than I do - how do you think he would react if I told him how much I care for him?"

"Oh!" Her cheeks flushed - not with cold this time, but with shy embarrassment. "I, um ....my tutor taught me how to," she admitted. "But she said it would be very different with a man."

"She ....taught you how to kiss?" Lorenzo echoed, brows arching upwards in astonishment. "But how ..." He seemed to be trying to work out in his head just how that was done, and could only come up with one answer.

The look Madalena gave him suggested she knew exactly what he was thinking and that, yes, he was absolutely right. Her brow rose above a suddenly teasing smirk. "It didn't mean anything, Lory," she told him sweetly.

"No, I suppose not," he murmured, though he wasn't too sure what to think. He had learned how to kiss under much different circumstances and it was probably better she didn't know what those circumstances were. "I suppose it does not count then?" he said, more question than statement.

"It was a lesson," she said, shrugging her shoulder gently. "I didn't like her in that way, not at all. It was all very ....clinical and cold, and more than a bit embarrassing, to be honest. Especially because Nonna insisted on sitting in on those lessons."

Lorenzo frowned as another thought crossed his mind, though it was a thought he was not willing to share just yet, if at all. "You do not really need lessons in kissing, Lena. It is something you learn with experience."

"But Nonna wanted me to be a good wife," she pointed out. "So she hired Mistress Guilia from Cicilia, and ....well, her lessons were always very informative, but awfully embarrassing."

"Being a good wife isn't about kissing, Lena," he told her, though he had a feeling if he contradicted her grandmother, he might hear about it from the woman later. What was it about then"

"It wasn't just -" She stopped herself, her fading blush renewing itself with a vengeance as she abruptly looked down at her cocoa. "Nonna wanted to make sure that I would ....I would be able to please you. After dark."

"You do please me, cara mia," he assured her, though they hadn't done anything as yet but sleep together - literally, just sleep. "And I ..." He trailed off a moment, feeling awkward again. "I would like to please you, too."

"Oh, but I thought ....well, I thought you ....knew what to do," she offered, still staring into the contents of her mug. "Should we hire Mistress Guilia ourselves?"

He chuckled at her question. "No, I do not think we will need Mistress Guilia," he remarked, with an amused smirk lingering on his face.

"That's good, isn't it?" Finally, she looked up at him, aware of the heat in her cheeks but reassured to hear him chuckle. "You're not upset with me, are you?"

"Upset?" he echoed, his smirk softening into a smile. "No, cara, I am not upset," he assured her, lifting the mug of cocoa to his lips. "Finish your cocoa before it gets cold."

She visibly relaxed as he spoke, raising her own mug to her mouth to sip the rich chocolate within. "Mmm ....just as delicious as I remember," she murmured, absentmindedly resting her head on his shoulder as she smiled.

And she was just as sweet and gentle as he remembered, but then, he had always known that about her. "Tell me, Lena ....Would you like to share my bed again tonight?" he asked, though there was no pressure in his voice regarding whether or not they'd only sleep there.

Madalena couldn't have hidden her smile even if she had tired, glad he couldn't see it clearly from this angle. She knew she must look ridiculously pleased with his offer. "I should like that very much, Lory."

As a matter of fact, he didn't think he'd mind if she shared his bed - and his quarters - every night, but he wasn't sure she'd feel the same. As the lady of the house, she had her own quarters, but that didn't mean she couldn't sleep in his bed, if she so desired.

"You know ....I have never slept alone in a room," she mused thoughtfully, wiping her finger about the rim of her mug to lick the chocolate from it as she spoke. "I'm not sure I can."

"Never?" he echoed, brows arching upwards. As a first and only child, he'd been sleeping alone for years, and though he might not want to admit it, he had enjoyed sharing a bed with her the previous night.

"Never," she confirmed. "Nonna always kept me in with her. I think she had some silly idea that if I was alone in my bedroom, one of the servants might do something dreadful to me in my sleep."

"They wouldn't dare!" he was quick to say. Though he wasn't entirely sure what that dreadful something might be, his mind went to the worst case scenario. He was fairly certain his own servants wouldn't do anything to harm her, if they knew what was good for them, but there was really only one way to be sure. "You will stay with me then ....for as long as you like." It was his duty to protect her, after all.

Her grandmother was not exactly known for having a high opinion of anyone lower in rank than herself, but it seemed to have sparked Lorenzo into making that decision as well. Giggling softly, she tipped her head back, kissing his jaw affectionately. "Thank you, Lory."

He smiled at the kiss, his eyes drifting to her lips for a moment and wondering what they tasted like, though he made no move to return her kiss just yet. "There is only one condition," he remarked, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

"Oh?" Her lips curved into another teasing smile to match the tease in his eyes, never afraid of his humor nor afraid to show him her own. There were definite benefits to marrying your friend.

"Si, piccolo," he said, touching a finger to her nose. "You must promise never put your cold feet on my legs," he told her, unable to hide the teasing smirk from his lips.

She sighed exaggeratedly, letting out a little laugh. "Fine," she conceded. "I promise to never put my cold feet on your legs unless you tell me to." Because she did know him, and if he thought it would make her feel better at some point, he would invite her to do just that.

"Buono!" he exclaimed, grinning. "It is settled then. You will share my bed from now on." And his quarters, if she so wished. Somehow, he had a feeling he was going to be keeping her feet warm one of these days, despite his condition.

"But there must be better ways to end conflict than hurting and killing other people, surely?" she asked, her brows furrowing. "You cannot make a friend of someone if you have killed him."

"That is what we have diplomats for," Lorenzo explained. "We are lucky to have allies on our borders," he added, though it was not always that way.

"When do you suppose the king will ask us to go to Turvon and meet with him?" she asked then, her mind seemingly turning over a few thoughts that needed to be silenced.

"Soon, I should think," he replied, uncertainly. There was no predicting when they might be summoned, but he didn't think the king would wait too long before calling them to court, if only to congratulate them.

"I suppose that gives me something to do, then," Madalena commented. "I'll have to make a court dress." Though her family had a noble title, they had never been as wealthy as the other nobles around them. Making her own clothes had always been something she hated but did anyway.

Lorenzo looked momentarily puzzled, as he tried to sort out whether she meant to sew it herself. "Lena, you have women to do that for you now," he told her, though he didn't want to discourage her, if that was truly what she wanted to do.

She blinked, looking up at him with surprised pleasure. "Really' I don't have to make my own clothes anymore?" It didn't seem to have occurred to her that she had married into one of the wealthiest families in Alanic.

He smiled back at her, his expression soft with what might be affection. "Really. Unless you'd like to," he added, just in case. He could see it was going to take some time before she adjusted to her new life in Pont Elise.

"Oh, good grief, no," she said hastily. "I cannot stand sewing. All that fiddly embroidery and hemming and, ugh." She affected an exaggerated shudder, pulling a face. "I am more than happy to let someone else do all the work."

"What would you like to do?" he asked, curiously. The possibilities were endless really; she just had to figure out what she'd like to try. "Do you still like to paint?" he asked. He knew she liked gardening, too, but that might have to wait until spring.

"I do," she said happily. "When I have paint available to me. Most of the time I just sketch with charcoal. Would you like me to draw something for you?"

"Nothing in particular," he replied. "What would you like to draw?" he asked, turning the question back around on her. She needed to learn to start making decisions for herself, and not letting everyone else make them for her.

"When I'm painting, I like to paint landscapes," she said, happy to talk about her hobbies. "But if I'm sketching, I prefer people. Is that odd?"

"Now that we are married, we should have a portrait commissioned," he murmured, mostly to himself. "Would you be able to draw me a sketch of yourself?" he asked. He'd never had a likeness of her and realized now that he'd like one.

She looked surprised at the request. "I have never tried to draw a likeness of myself," she admitted. "I suppose I could, if I had a good mirror." Despite the thoughtfulness in her voice, her expression was far more intrigued than challenged.

"Perhaps we should hire an artist to paint our portrait," he suggested, including them both, not just one or the other. Wasn't that something most married couples did"

"Really?" That light of excitement was back in her face at this suggestion. "I don't believe I have ever sat for a portrait, unless I did when I was little. Have you?"

"Not in a very long time," he admitted, though his mother had been after him to do it for some time. He had a feeling he would not be able to deny her much longer, now that he was wed. "Would you like that?" he asked hopefully, noticing the light in her face.

Madalena nodded, only a little shyly. "We couldn't afford new portraits, only the little miniatures," she said. "I should like to have a picture of you and I somewhere."

"We could commission both, if you like," he told her, thinking it might be nice for them to possess miniature portraits of each other, as well. There was no question that he could afford to do both miniatures and a full-size portrait.

"That is a wonderful idea, tesoro," she enthused, once again tilting her head to kiss his jaw happily. "You are going to spoil me, aren't you?"

"Perhaps," he replied with a grin, in part from the term of endearment, as well as the kiss. "Would you mind very much if I did?" he asked, eyes bright with amusement.

"Only if you don't let me spoil you as well," she informed him sweetly. "You deserve to be pampered just as much as I do." Which was probably not at all, but there was a wish to do so in both of them.

"Do I" What makes you think I have not been pampered in the past?" he asked, trying hard to keep a straight face. As far as he was concerned, she deserved to be pampered and spoiled, but he wasn't so sure about himself. He knew he was privileged, but he didn't lord that privilege over others and tried to help those less fortunate where he could.

"Because you are not spoiled at all, Lory," she pointed out, not even trying to keep her own smile hidden. "You are always gentle and kind, and people who have been spoiled as children are never gentle and kind with anyone."

"As are you, mia amore," he told her, lifting her hand to brush a soft kiss against her knuckles. It was the first time he'd used the word "love" in connection with her, not only since they'd been wed, but ever.

No doubt he could feel the heat in her cheeks as she beamed at the gentle touch of his lips to her hand, tilting her brow to rest against his jaw affectionately. A thought occurred to her as she looked at the flames. "Lory ....would it be easier for you tonight if I didn't wear my nightgown?"

"You were never a brother to me, Lorenzo," she said, shaking her head as she spoke. "And ....I don't think friends think of each other as warmly as I think of you. If you don't want me to love you, I promise I will never mention it again. I won't even allude to it. Please don't send me away."

"I always thought you cared for me like a brother," he murmured thoughtfully, more to himself than to her. He turned quiet a moment, as he tried to think things through and sort through the chaos of his own feelings.

Madalena let loose a soft sigh, shaking her head. "I never have," she admitted quietly. "I don't think it is something that can be controlled. I'm sorry."

Rather than being upset, like Madalena seemed to fear, Lorenzo smiled instead, gently tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. "Madalena, look at me please," he urged her.

No doubt he could feel her trembling as he touched her chin, her face lifting hesitantly to risk looking into his eyes. "I didn't ....I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," she apologized worriedly. "Truly, I never want to do that."

It was his turn to sigh as he met her gaze, his fingers drifting away from her chin and across her cheek. "Lena, cara mia ....Don't you know I love you, too?" he asked her quietly, gently.

It was clear from the look in her eyes that she wanted to believe him, but given his trepidation at her own confession, there was something she had to ask. "As a sister?" she asked softly. "As a friend?"

Lorenzo frowned. This was where things got a little tricky. He reached for her hand, fingers linked with hers, his turn to stare at their hands. "I thought so, at first. You have always been there for me. We have always known each other and we have always known we would be wed someday." He paused a moment to gather his thoughts, lifting his head to look at her again. "Do you remember when we were children and Marco tried to kiss you?"

He chuckled a little at the memory. He had given Marco a black eye for it and reminded the other boy that she belonged to him. Even then, he'd known there was something special about her - and about their relationship - but he hadn't quite understood what that was.

Despite herself, she laughed quietly at the memory. "You were just a little harsher with him than perhaps you needed to be," she conceded, though at the time she had been deeply grateful to him for rescuing her from their pushy playmate.

"I was a little possessive perhaps," he agreed, his smile widening. More than a little, to be honest, but he'd just been a kid. "I-I never thought about it much. I just always knew we'd be together," he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I have often wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Do you think it will be like kissing your brother?" he asked, though she didn't have a brother, so how would she know the difference.

A rosy flush was darkening her cheeks as she realized that, while he had not answered her question, he seemed to feel as she did. "I ....I do not suppose we shall know until we try?"

He'd only realized as they'd talked how worried he'd been that she thought of him as a brother and how awkward that had made him feel. Now that he knew her feelings for him went deeper than that, he wasn't so afraid to acknowledge his own feelings for her. "Shall we try then?" he asked, needing her permission first.

"If, if you truly wish to," she answered, nodding hopefully. As she had told him, her only kiss had been with a female tutor, and she had not much enjoyed it. But here and now, at the prospect of a kiss from Lorenzo, her heart was pounding in her chest. It was a very different feeling.

"Close your eyes," he told her, only because that was what people seemed to always do when they kissed, though he wasn't sure why.

Obediently, she did so, lifting her chin just a little, offering her mouth to his even as she leaned toward him, trusting him not to suddenly turn this moment into a tease that would break her heart.

He would never think of doing such a thing - not now when she was looking so hopeful and so vulnerable. Strangely, he found his heart was beating a little bit faster as he leaned closer, studying the pretty pout on her face and the way her lashes fluttered a little as her eyes drifted closed. And then, his lips touched hers - tenderly, softly, warmly. He brushed a kiss to her lips once, twice, as if testing her reaction, before he finally captured her lips and let his linger against hers for a moment longer.

The moment his lips brushed hers, her eyes opened, watching his face even as her lips tingled with the unexpected delight of finding herself kissed. She didn't pull away, or gasp in shock, instead surging to meet him as he deepened that kiss, letting her eyes fall closed as her fingers curled into his doublet.

He didn't notice the fact that her eyes had opened, as his had drifted closed as he lost himself to the moment. One would not think kissing would require such complete concentration and surrender. It wasn't that he'd never kissed a woman; but those other kisses had never meant anything and had never made him feel half what he was feeling for Madalena.

Her tutor had at least taught her not to hesitate, but to act on her feelings. As the kiss lingered, Madalena eased closer, tilting her head as her fingers dared to reach up to his jaw, tentative but affectionate in an unthinking caress.

He reached for her, too, his arms going around her waist to pull her into his lap, letting the blanket slide away from her legs. It was a little scandalous, but they were married after all, and in their own home, and each obviously preoccupied by the other, now that they'd admitted their feelings.

She did squeak at that, giggling into their kisses at her own reaction to suddenly finding herself on his lap, in his arms, curling her own about his shoulders, teasing her fingers into his hair as she shared her smile with him in that intimate caress. Whatever kissing a brother was like, she was pretty sure this was definitely not it.

He, too, smiled into her kiss, amused at the sound she made when he pulled her into his lap. The kiss he gave her was definitely not of the brotherly kind, and his body's reaction to her closeness was not that either.

But breath didn't last forever, however glorious her first true kiss might be. Madalena drew back, breathless and wide-eyed, gazing at Lorenzo in wonder. "Was that like kissing a sister?"

She wasn't as inattentive as she seemed, lurching out of the way of his handful with a loud giggle. "I am always innocent," she informed him, even as she scooped up another handful of snow to form into a ball. "Even when it seems as though I am not."

"Oh, really?" he asked, wondering just how innocent she was when it came to getting him to kiss her. "You forget how well I know you," he told her, bending to scoop up another handful of snow to make his own snowball.

"Well, that is just cheating," she said, backing up as he created another snowball, reading to dodge at a moment's notice. Despite the cold, she was bright and sparkling, always ready to embrace the moment. Whatever else her grandmother had taught her, that ability was her crowning achievement.

"What is cheating?" he asked, as he stepped back. He grinned, a devilish gleam in his eyes, as he, too, stepped back. He didn't want to pack the snow so hard that he'd hurt her, and so he only packed the snow together tightly enough that it would stick, but not become hard, waiting for her to throw first, because he was at heart a gentleman. Perhaps it was her ability to embrace the moment that he loved most about  her, even if he hadn't realized it yet. Perhaps it was something she could rekindle in him.

A wicked little smile graced her expression as she threw her snowball at him, already ducking and running in case he was quicker off the mark than she was. "Using how well you know me against me!"

He let loose the snowball, as soon as she lifted her arm, too quick for her to escape, but not quite on the mark as he couldn't have predicted which way she'd duck and run. In doing so, though, he was a little late in dodging her snowball, as evidenced by the thump to his shoulder and the splatter of snow against his cloak. "Oh, you're going to pay for that, cara mia!" he called, as he brushed the snow from his cloak.

"In what, tesoro?" she countered looking back over her shoulder as she skittered away. Unfortunately she wasn't looking where she was going, and thus missed the step down into the garden, toppling head over heels into the snow with a loud cackle of laughter.

His initial reaction was that of sudden fear for her safety, actually sighing with relief when he heard her laugh. "Serves you right!" he called over, lobbing a loosely-formed snowball her way.

Rolling onto her back, the snowball caught her in the mouth, setting her off in a fit of giggles that completely stole her breath. She was laughing far too hard to even try to stand up at this point, but it didn't stop her from batting a pathetic amount of snow in his direction.

He stalked closer, intending to pull her to her feet, only to find snow tossed in his face as he bent over her prone form. He sputtered and blinked, chuckling a little as he wiped the snow from his face. "Now you're in trouble!" he warned, dropping down onto the snow to pin her to the ground with his body. "What are you going to do now, Miss Smarty-pants?" he said, grinning down at her. It was like a scene out of their childhood, though now they were married.

Still getting control of her giggles, she beamed up at him, gleefully unrepentant. "Look adorable?" she suggested, raising her arms to wrap them about his shoulders, lifting her head to boop her nose against his ....and plunge her freezing fingers down the back of his collar.

He hollered in protest and shock as she stuck her fingers down his collar. "You promised!" he reminded her, though that promise had been about cold feet, not cold fingers. "Just for that," he said, scooping up a bit of snow and dusting it down the back of her neck.

It was her turn to squeal again, cackling with laughter as she retaliated with a handful of her own snow smashed right on top of his head. And just like that, a moment that could have ended in passion was suddenly a highly enjoyable wrestling match, both of them attempting to one up each other with their gentle attacks. Unbeknownst to them, they were watched by several of the staff, some shocked by the sight of the conte rolling around in the snow with his new contessa, yet all not quite able to hide their smiles at the endearing merriment out there in the wintry weather.

Perhaps it was her light-hearted spirit, but for the first time since his father had died, the normally stoic conte was actually laughing with the carefree spirit he hadn't known since he'd been a boy. There was no one more shocked and surprised by this than Lorenzo, who found himself bubbling over with happiness. It was a strange sensation and one he hadn't known for some time and hadn't realized he'd missed. Exhausted and out of breath from laughter, he collapsed beside her in the snow, wiping the tears from his eyes before they froze on his face.

Giggling with breathless delight, Madalena lay beside him, absolutely heedless of the snow soaking into her cloak and dress, grinning up at the laden sky happily. "We should definitely do this more often."

"Scuffle in the snow or just go outside in the winter?" he asked, looking over at her from where he lay upon his back, comfortable enough on his mattress of snow.

"Have silly fun," she told him, turning her head to look at him. Her cheeks were red with cold, her golden hair was definitely looking disheveled, but she was still smiling brightly, lit up from the sheer joy of being ridiculous with her husband for a little while.

"Ah, that," he murmured a soft smile on his face as he dared dart a glance at the house and the faces at the windows, who were trying to hide behind the curtains. He chuckled at the sight of them before turning back to his wife. "They must think we've gone mad."

She lifted her head to look in that direction, laughing herself at the twitch of the curtains. "They will simply have to get used to it," she said happily. "Our children will be a handful, but they will be happy."

"I like the sound of that," he said, a soft smile on his face, warm with affection. He reached over to brush a bit of moisture from her face, where snow had melted. "Do you remember how we used to make snow angels?"

Her smile softened as he stroked her cheek, though her arms were already moving experimentally. "I don't think you can make a snow angel in a cloak," she mused impishly. "We'd have to undress a bit to get them right."

He laughed, realizing she was right. "True, and that might be a little too scandalous," he remarked with a grin. Not to mention, they might catch their death of cold. "We should go inside and get warm. You're soaked."

"So are you!" she countered, though he was right - she was just on the cusp of starting to shiver. It was worth it, though, to see that smile on Lorenzo's face. It had been far too long since he had smiled, really smiled, with all his heart.

He held up a hand, as if to appease her. "It's all right. We don't have to share a bath. I just thought ..." He trailed off, hoping she'd think it was the hot water that was turning his face pink. "If you will turn around again, I will let you have the bath while the water is still hot," he told her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

"No, I ....I would like to bathe with you," she rushed to assure him, her pink cheeks dimpling as she smiled once again. Her hands went to her sash, pausing as she hesitated. "Could you ....could you close your eyes?"

He wasn't sure what she'd thought he'd meant when he'd suggested a bath, but she had obviously not expected to share. "Are you sure, cara?" he asked, not wanting to pressure her into doing anything she was uncomfortable with. He had told her he was a patient man - or at least, he was trying to be.

She nodded, a little too enthusiastically perhaps. "I am sure, Lory," she promised, undoing the knot on her sash. "I just ....I'm not sure I can undress while you are watching me."

"I understand," he assured her, not only turning his head away from her, but closing his eyes. It was strange, but he'd never felt shy with a woman before; why was he feeling so nervous now" Could it be because he actually cared for this woman, as he'd not done with any other woman before her"

She took in a slow breath, shedding her robe swiftly to lay it beside his on the back of the chair. It took a moment longer to convince her trembling hands to remove her chemise, which she discarded to the floor before tentatively stepping into the bath with him. Thankfully, it was of a decent size, allowing her to sink down until her shoulders were just above the surface without slopping water over the sides.

True to his word, he didn't so much as peek as she disrobed and climbed into the bath with him, riddled as he was with nervous tension. Even if all they did was wash each other's backs, they were one step closer to the inevitable act of consummating their marriage.

Hugging herself as she crouched at the end of the large tub, Madalena found her voice on the second try. "You ....you can open your eyes now, Lory."

He opened his eyes only to find her crouched in the tub across from him, while he was stretched out. He could hardly see anything that way, but that wasn't really the point anyway. What he wanted was to ease them into feeling comfortable with each other without their clothing on. He sighed. "Come here," he told her, reaching out a hand to draw her toward him.

"How?" she asked, tentatively slipping her hand into his as he reached for her. It wasn't that she was ashamed of her body, nor even particularly shy about it, but there was something undeniably intimate about being naked with her husband. "Will we both fit?"

"Si, we will both fit," he assured her. The bath was big enough to fit them both comfortably, if a bit snugly. "Should I close my eyes again?" he asked, trying to keep his gaze focused on her face, rather than drifting lower.

She giggled uncertainly. "How will you see to move me around if you have your eyes closed?"

"I won't. You will have to do it on your own," he told her, indicating the space in front of him. It was going to be a tricky business, no matter what.

"But I do not know how you want me to settle there," she pointed out, forcing herself to stand so she could move more easily to this new position he had decided upon.

He mumbled something under his breath as she stood, quickly turning his head away and pressing his eyes closed so as not to embarrass her. "Here," he indicated the space between his legs with a hand, knowing it was a slightly dangerous position to put her in, but then, they were married.

"All right." She giggled at how quickly he looked away, the water lapping at her legs as she stepped closer and turned, lowering herself down to sit between his legs. "Like this?"

He could only tell by the sound of the water around her and the feel of her movement within it. He reached out to find her there in front of him, and he nodded his head, leaving his arms on each side of the bath, at least for now, until she made herself comfortable.

"Now what do I do, tesoro?" she asked uncertainly, not knowing where to put her hands or whether she should lean back against him. It was all very new.

He couldn't see anything, other than the fall of her hair that covered her bare back and fell to her slender waist, but the knowledge that she was there, so close to him, was enough to almost drive him mad. "Just ..." he started, gulping in an attempt to calm himself. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all. "Just relax."

She raised her hands to coil her hair up onto her head once more, before it could get too wet, unconsciously showing off the smooth lines of her back and neck as she took another deep breath. "Am I silly to be nervous?" she asked softly, even as she forced her stiff body to soften and relax back against his chest.

"I am nervous, too, cara," he confessed, trying hard to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He knew that as soon as she made herself comfortable, his body's reaction to her closeness was going to make itself apparent, but perhaps she wouldn't notice, or at least wouldn't remark on it. "May I ....may I put my arms around you?" he asked, as though they were just courting and not already married.

She nodded, just barely glancing back at him with a shy smile. "I would like that," she admitted, lifting her hands to reach for his and draw his arms about her.

He lifted his arms from the bath, and slid them around her, letting her guide his hands wherever she wanted them to be.

She was just as uncertain of where his hands should be as he was, choosing finally to lace her fingers through his and lay his palms shyly against the stomach beneath the water. "Is that comfortable?"

"Si, it is," he admitted, glad she couldn't see the way his face was flaming, as her head was turned away from him. "And you? Is it comfortable for you?" he asked, happy to let her rest her back against his chest.

"Si?" he asked. Though he wasn't really expecting an answer, her remark did nothing to discourage him. He brushed another kiss against her neck, followed by another, drifting slowly downward until he reached her bare shoulder.

She actually trembled in his arms as his lips passed over a particularly sensitive spot, her eyes drifting closed even as a quiet sound rose in her chest, declaring her enjoyment of his questing lips whether she wanted it to or not. Was it the kisses, or was it because he was the one kissing her" She didn't know, but she could guess.

He mistook her trembling for something else, pausing his kissing momentarily to ask, "Are you cold?" He only just realized that they had been in the bath for some time, and not only was the water starting to cool, but they were both in danger of shriveling.

Madalena gasped, coming back to herself abruptly as he spoke, blinking her eyes open once more with a fresh blush staining her cheeks. "Oh! Oh, I-I ....perhaps we should get out before the water turns truly cold."

Could it be she was not cold so much as she was enjoying his kisses, he wondered. He smiled at the thought of that, but even so, they had to get out of the bath sooner or later, before they truly were shivering with cold. "I think perhaps we should," he agreed, but how to do it without both of them feeling embarrassed again?

Though he might not admit it, he had peeked over her shoulder to admire her form, which had done very little to calm his nerves, but he'd had the sense not to mention it.

"Could ....could you help me stand?" she asked tentatively, untangling her hands from his to lay them on the edges of the tub. She was going to need a boost to stand up.

"Si, of course," he readily agreed, though he wasn't too sure how he was going to accomplish that without embarrassing them both. "I, um ..." he murmured, searching for a way to help her up gracefully. "Un memento ..." he told her, easing carefully out from behind her to get to his feet and turning to step out of the bath. Dripping wet, he took hold of a linen cloth and secured it about his waist, before turning back to her and offering her a hand.

Surprised to find him getting out first, Madalena made the unwise decision to glance up at exactly the wrong moment, and got a very clear view of his naked form at just above eye level that turned her soft blush into a crimson burn that spread not just over her face, but over her body as well.

Thankfully, he was quick with the towel, so that she didn't get too vivid a peek, but he had not bothered to warn her or asked her to close her eyes. He cleared his throat, as he offered her a hand, noting her blush but trying to keep his own gaze focused on her face. He had another towel ready to wrap about her shoulders, once she had moved to her feet.

With room now to tuck one leg beneath herself, Madalena carefully rose to her feet, unconsciously curling her arms loosely about herself - a motion toward modesty that did not actually hide anything.

He did his best not to gawk, keeping his gaze level with her face, as he drew her to her feet and then moved to wrap the towel around her shoulders to keep her warm and dry and give her some semblance of modesty. "You do not need to be afraid, Lena," he assured her in a gentle tone of voice. "I would never do anything to hurt you."

Stepping out of the bath, she took control of the towel from him, tucking it about her chest as she smiled. "I'm not afraid of you, Lory," she promised. "I am simply not yet used to such intimacy as this." With almost absent affection, she leaned closer, touching a kiss to his shoulder.

"I do not mean to embarrass you, dolcezza," he assured her further, letting his hands drop to his sides. Now that she was out of the bath and had the towel tucked about her, he wasn't quite sure what to do next.

"You do not embarrass me, Lory," she told him. "I embarrass myself. I cannot keep my mind from lingering upon all the things I would like to do with you."

"Oh?" he asked, brows arching upwards in surprise. "What sorts of things?" he asked curiously, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from her cheek.

"Kisses," she murmured. "Touches. Things I am not sure I have the courage to do yet. Things I want to do ....but what if you do not like it' I am not afraid of you, Lory. I am afraid of displeasing you."

"Oh, Lena ..." he said with a sigh, his expression betraying the feelings for her that he was only just starting to acknowledge. "Don't you know you could never displease me?" he asked, his fingers lingering on her cheek in a tender caress.

"I'm sure I could if I tried," she pointed out, her cheeky smile flickering into view for a moment even as her cheek tilted into his caress.

The flicker of a smile crossed his face, looking amused by her answer. "But why would you?" he asked, fairly certain she only wanted to please him, as he wanted to please her.

She giggled, unconsciously easing just a little closer to him as she met his gaze. "Mischief?" she suggested. "You should make sure I never get bored. Who knows what I might do?"

"Get bored?" he echoed, looking confused. He knew she was teasing him, but he wasn't too sure what it was she was threatening him with.

"Miiiiischief," she intoned, wiggling her fingers at him before letting out a loud laugh and wrapping her arms about his waist. "You are so very easy to tease, Lory."

"Oh," he murmured, laughing a little at his own expense. "I see ....You were teasing me," he said, stating the obvious, a slightly sheepish grin on his face as he slid his arms around her. "What would you like to do now, mia dolce?"

Tilting her head back to meet his eyes, Madalena's smile softened, tentative shyness showing itself once again. "Go to bed?" she suggested, absently stroking her fingers against his back.

"In the middle of the day?" he asked, his mouth quirking into a smirk. It was quickly approaching evening - too early to retire for the night, but he had a feeling she wasn't suggesting sleep.

She glanced away, her cheeks darkening once again as she bit down on her shy smile. "You did ask, tesoro," she pointed out, wondering if she should rescind her suggestion quickly.

"This is a sight only you get to see in comfort," she reminded him fondly, quietly delighted with his apparent fascination with her hair. "Andrea does not count; she has to put it up."

"Andrea is not your husband," he was quick to point out. "You are beautiful, Lena," he told her, his voice not much more than a whisper. Why had he not noticed this before"

"To your eyes," she told him with a smile. "And since yours are the only eyes I care about, I am very pleased to know that you like my looks." There was a hint of mischief in that smile, but only because she saw nothing so very remarkable about her face.

"I am sure I am not alone in that, but I do not know what I might do if I caught another man admiring your beauty," he teased back, mirroring the smile on her face.

"I would not mind if you chose to make it blatantly clear that I am yours," she offered impishly. She reached up, daring to curl her hand to his cheek. "I do love you, Lory. Very much."

"Not like a brother," he said, more statement than question, as if he needed to make doubly sure of that before he claimed her for himself completely. He covered her hand with his own, turning his face to press a kiss to her palm.

"Not at all like a brother," she promised, catching her breath at the soft press of his lips against her sensitive palm. Her thumb stroked over his lips as he drew back, her smile gentle and inviting.

He supposed they had stalled long enough, and they didn't have long before the evening meal was due to arrive, and yet, he didn't want to rush things. It was to be her first time, and he wanted it to be both tender and memorable. "Shall we?" he asked, leaving it completely in her hands.

She nodded, her smile turning shy just for a moment before she turned her hand in his, claiming him with a gentle tug toward the door to his bedroom. That was the best place to start, wasn't it"

Arguably, they had already started in the bath, even if nothing had really happened. As eager as Lorenzo was for his new bride, he did not want to rush her or make her uncomfortable and was perfectly happy to take his time with her. He smiled back, charmed by her shyness and letting her lead the way to his room and his bed.

At least she was not surprised by the room itself, having spent her first night as his wife cuddled up against his side, even if all they had done was sleep. Madalena dropped his hand as she reached the bed, turning to face him. "What would you like me to do, Lory?"

"Do you trust me, Madalena?" he asked, in as tender a voice as he could muster, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. He knew she did, but before they went any further, he needed her to say it.

There was no need to even consider thinking over her answer. "Of course I do, Lorenzo," she assured him, her smile warming. "I trust you with everything I have."

"It is going to hurt a little," he warned her with a frown - at least, he assumed it would, considering the fact that she presumably had never been with a man before. "But I will be as gentle as I can."

"Lory." She reached out, laying her palm over his heart as she leaned into him. "I trust you." She didn't know how else she could say it to make him believe that. She knew there might be some pain, but she also knew him. He wouldn't let it hurt too much.

It would only hurt briefly, or so he'd been told, but he didn't want to hurt her at all. Still, it couldn't really be helped, and it was the first time that would be the hardest. "All right, then," he said, stepping closer and reaching to slide the velvet robe back from her shoulders, his gaze meeting hers.

Her smile seemed to relax as he made that decision somewhere inside to continue on with what she had begun. The sash at her waist came undone fast, the soft velvet sliding back from her bare skin under the gentle pressure of his hands, slipping to the floor with barely any assistance. And there she was, his wife, with nothing to hide behind but her own hair.

She'd lost the towel, too, and he was at a loss for words to find her standing there before him, as naked as the day she was born and as lovely as a goddess. Then again, this wasn't the time for a conversation. He reached out to touch her, surprisingly gentle fingers tracing one bare shoulder before moving to trace the curve of her breast, marveling at the beauty before him.

There was no way to disguise the answering desire that rose in her at his touch, under his gaze; no way to hide the way her skin flushed rose, the way her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes, so sweetly mischievous much of the time, darkened with sultry want as she looked up at him.

Her reaction to his touch was encouraging, and so, he dared take the next step, easing her down onto the bed and moving over her, though the velvet robe was still covering him. He kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue probing past her lips and exploring her mouth, tenderly, but with barely repressed hunger.

As he moved her beneath him, she raised her hands, tasting his breath in his kisses even as she slipped those hands beneath his own robe. There was no hesitation in her; only her desire for him, and to please him, and her trust that he would never hurt her.

It seemed the shyness they'd both felt the night before had finally given way to desire. Maybe it was partly because of the bath, but he thought it was more likely because they had confessed to each other their feelings and fears, their hopes and dreams and wishes, and most of all their love, though he had yet to say it plainly. Perhaps actions really did speak louder than words though, as his kisses and caresses were those of a loving partner, as concerned for her pleasure as he was for his own.

And he had an apt and eager pupil in his inexperienced wife, though she knew little of the act itself. What little her Cicilian tutor had been allowed to teach her had given her the confidence to reach this moment, but her marital education lay in the hands of her husband. When he touched, she touched; when he kissed, she kissed; each time learning something new about him, learning to please him even as she shivered with pleasure under the loving stroke of his hands.

He knew enough to go slow, to take his time in his tender exploration of her body, savoring and memorizing every inch of and leaving nothing unexplored. But he let her explore, too, as they shared kisses and caresses and slowly learned each other, inch by tender inch. Inevitably, the robe that had covered him fell to the floor, leaving him as naked as she was, but he hardly cared - too intent on pleasing her, on showing her that this was not something to be feared, but enjoyed.

As the first moans finally made themselves known from her lips, there was no denying that she was learning exactly what he wanted to teach, clinging to him through wave after wave of pleasure, wanting to give that pleasure back to him even as she shook in his arms, gasping for breath. There was no pain, no blood - Lorenzo had done his job so well that there was nothing but pleasure for them both in their marriage bed.

"Un memento!" he called toward the door, rolling off the other side of the bed, as soon as he was able to look for his robe, which he'd dropped somewhere on the floor.

A voice called back, too indistinct to understand, though it sounded as though it was coming from beyond the drawing room, within the hallway itself. Madalena sat up, tucking the sheets demurely about herself, curious to know what was going on out there.

Lorenzo grabbed the first thing that looked like a robe from the floor and slipped it over his shoulders as he stalked toward the door, a little annoyed that they'd been interrupted, though at least they'd knocked. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that the robe he'd grabbed belonged to Madalena and was about three sizes too small until he reached the door.

"Milord?"

It sounded as though it was Matteo on the other side of the door; he seemed uncertain quite what his reception would be, but apparently whoever was making the noise was not someone who could be put off.

"Si, si, what is it?" Lorenzo asked, as he struggled to fasten the robe about his waist, frowning to find it was not quite large enough to cover him completely.

At least his valet had the decency not to open the door, despite the fact that the contessa had suddenly erupted into a fit of giggles at what she could see in the privacy of the bedroom.

"You have a visitor, milord," Matteo called through the door. "Signor della Rossi is come to extend his good wishes upon your marriage."

Lorenzo grumbled under his breath. "Tell Signor della Rossi that we are otherwise engaged and he can extend his good wishes another day," he told his valet, raising his voice loud enough so that their visitor could hear him clearly.

Before Matteo could pass this on, Giovanni's familiar voice rose to comprehension levels through two doors.

"Tell the conte that I am prepared to camp right outside this door and make a nuisance of myself for as long as it takes," he declared cheerfully. "And that since I am the one in front of the only door into his married quarters, I will eat his dinner!"

Behind Lorenzo, Madalena giggled into her hand, knowing that this was no empty threat.

"I could have you arrested for that, signor!" Lorenzo called back, putting an emphasis on the "signor", almost as if it was insulting to call his closest friend by such a formal title.

"Not without upsetting your wife!"

That was enough to set Madalena's giggles off once again. She pitched down onto the pillows face first, shaking with laughter at the ridiculous situation they found themselves in.

"Can you not offer your congratulations from there?" Lorenzo countered, furrowing his brows as he tried to fasten the damned robe, wondering how it had suddenly shrunk before realizing with a sigh that he'd grabbed the wrong one.

"I can't hug the new contessa through two doors," Vanni objected. His grin was audible - no doubt he was providing quite the entertaining spectacle for the servants even as they tried to respectfully get him under control.

"You cannot hug the new contessa beyond the doors either," Lorenzo pointed out, considering Madalena's current state of undress. "But if I allow you to enter briefly to offer your congratulations, you must promise to then leave us alone until morning. Is that agreeable?" he asked, with just a hint of teasing in his own voice. Vanni was, after all, one of their closest friends - a man they had both known since childhood.

"Do you mean dawn morning, or after breakfast morning?" Judging by the nearing sound of his voice, Vanni knew he'd won and was making his way across the drawing room to the bedroom door at speed. Madalena let out a startled squeak and scrambled on the floor for the nearest robe to cover herself hastily.

Lorenzo moved to intercept the man before he could barge into their bedroom with Madalena only half dressed, despite his own appearance.

"I mean morning morning, tu idiota!" he called back.

"Ah, so closer to midday, then." Vanni chuckled his cheerful laugh, apparently pausing just outside the door. He wasn't cruel enough to just barge straight in.

And what a pair he was going to walk in on - Lorenzo in Madalena's robe, flashing his legs from the knee and generally only just covered up; and Madalena in Lorenzo's robe, absolutely swamped by the material gathered at her waist.

"Well?" Lorenzo said from the other side of the door, arms crossed against his chest, which was only barely covered by Madalena's robe, one bare foot tapping impatiently against the floor. "Are you coming in or not?"

"Ah, permission granted. Grazie!" The door opened, and there was Giovanni della Rossi, tall, blonde, and grinning widely at the sight of his two friends, the newly-weds. It took barely a second for him to absorb the mismatched robes before he howled with laughter. "Oh, this is so much better than I could have hoped for!"

"One word of this to anyone, fratello," Lorenzo said, poking a finger against his friend's chest, "And I will make sure you never speak to anyone again," he added in a hushed voice, so that Madalena did not overhear. Of course, it was an idle threat, but a threat, nonetheless.

"As if I would ever tell the world that I found the great Conte de Pont-Elise prancing around his own bedroom in his wife's clothes," Vanni scoffed, neatly bypassing Lorenzo altogether to pick Madalena up and spin her around. "And how are you, little contessa" Still playing with dolls?"

Giggling, Madalena batted at his hands as he put her down. "I am not sure you could call it dolls anymore, Vanni."

Lorenzo turned, hands on his hips and brows furrowed in a partly-feigned look of annoyance as he shoved right past him and presumed to swing Madalena into his arms. "Ahem," he said, reminding the two of them that he was still there. "Do not forget your place, Vanni. The little contessa is my wife now," he said.

"I have not been in love with someone since I was seven years old," his friend pointed out with a faint smirk. "Marriage suits you, by the way. How was the wedding night?"

"That, mio amico, is none of your business," Lorenzo replied, but from the smile on his face, it would seem the wedding night had gone well - or at least, things had gone well since then. "Let us just say that we are both happy with the situation."

"Then that is all that matters," Giovanni agreed, his own smile re-emerging. "I'm told you both looked adorable yesterday." His smile widened to a grin. "Lena's grandmother was in town."

"Adorable," Lorenzo echoed, with a snort. "I think I am a little too old to be adorable," he pointed out, though he made no argument for Madalena, who was, in his opinion, just that.

"Well, the city seems very well pleased with your marriage, so I'm glad to find it is the same inside the manor," Vanni said. "What are your plans for your honeymoon' You can't be intending to spend the entire month in bed, surely."

Lorenzo smirked over his glass of wine. "The thought had crossed my mind," he admitted, though he thought Madalena deserved more than that. "I am open to suggestions," he added, before taking a sip of his wine.

"Take her on a tour of the villages and towns around the city," Vanni suggested. "She's never been outside Pont-Elise. She'll enjoy seeing them, and they will enjoy seeing both of you. How long is it since you took a tour yourself?"

"A few years, I think," Lorenzo replied, though he wasn't too sure. It had probably been longer than he'd thought. "Before Father died," he added, though it hadn't been that long since that event.

"The people would appreciate seeing you both," Vanni said confidently. "After all, hardly anyone outside the center of the city has seen Madalena, and she is their contessa now."

"I suppose you are right," Lorenzo admitted, though he liked the idea of keeping her all to himself but a little while yet. Still, it would do both Madalena and the people good to meet her and to see how happy they were. And he didn't want to be one of those nobles who lived off the work of his people and cared nothing for their troubles.

Giovanni chuckled at the look on his friend's face. "I'm not telling you to set off tomorrow," he said. "Give it a week or so; time enough to get her fitted and dressed up for travel, and send word out that you'll be making the tour so the nobles can lay on their own versions of the marriage feast for you."

Lorenzo frowned, wondering why he hadn't thought of all this on his own. Then again, he'd been a little too caught up in the wedding and the preparations for it. "Do you know that she loves me?" he asked his friend, changing the subject, a silly grin on his face as he leaned forward to share that bit of news. "She said so herself."

"Already?" Giovanni grinned, patting his friend's arm in congratulations. "I thought it would take her at least a couple of days to squeak it out. What about you? Did you finally work it out as well?"

"You talk as if you knew already," Lorenzo said, frowning at his friend. How could his friend know how he and Madalena felt about each other when they had only just discovered it for themselves" Or at least, Lorenzo had.

"Of course I did." Vanni leaned back in his seat, taking a slow sip of his wine. "Everyone knows you adore each other. We were just waiting for the pair of you to get it out in the open." He gave his friend a pointed look. "Did you really think all that over-protective nonsense was just because you didn't want her to be played with?"

"I didn't want her to be hurt," Lorenzo clarified. He frowned again, a thoughtful look on his face. "I thought I loved her like a sister, but ..." He trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders.

"My dear Lorenzo, Mother Church would be horrified if brothers loved their sisters the way you love your wife," Giovanni informed him easily.

A soft rustle of cloth announced Madalena's return, dressed once more and with a soft snood holding her hair up and out of her way.

"You know what I mean," Lorenzo said, quickly shushing himself and moving to his feet as Madalena rejoined them. "Cara mia," he said, offering her a hand. "Would you like a glass of wine?"

She smiled for her husband, slipping her hand into his. "Thank you, tesoro, I would," she said affectionately.

Rising from his chair to greet the little contessa, Giovanni bowed to her, and abruptly snorted with laughter when she elbowed him in the stomach for it. "Haven't lost your touch, I see."

The three of them were old friends, having grown up together, and though Lorenzo had worried his marriage might change things between them, it seemed nothing had really changed, at least as far as Madalena and Giovanni were concerned.

"Forgive him, Lena. He is just jealous because he has not yet found a woman who will put up with him long enough to become his wife," he said, as he moved to pour her a glass of wine, but with only half as much wine as he'd poured for himself and Giovanni.

"How will I ever find a woman who is willing to both pamper me and put sheep dung in my bed when I annoy her?" Giovanni teased, this time lurching out of the way before Madalena could make contact. "So violent, little contessa."

"Only with you, Signor Giovanni," she answered in a giggling tone, taking her glass from Lorenzo with a decidedly fonder glance in his direction.

"It is simple, mio amico," he told his friend, pausing a moment to smile at his wife. "You must find someone who as impossible as yourself," he said, lifting his glass to his friend to toast the challenge.

"Impossible," Giovanni responded, lifting his glass in answer. "I am utterly unique, as we all know." With one hand, he drew out a chair for Madalena to seat herself in, proving that, for all his mannerisms, he was still a gentleman, born and raised.

"Was I?" he asked, the smile warming. He was sure Giovanni would be fine; he always was. "Hmm, should I tell you again then?" he asked, his fingers itching to loosen her hair, as well as her clothes once again.

"I will never grow tired of hearing it," she promised, wriggling her hands up and beneath his shirt, tracing fingers that were just a little chilled against his warm skin. "Hmm ....are you still ticklish, tesoro?" She didn't wait for his answer, going for the kill, as it were.

It had been a long time since she - or anyone - had tried tickling him. She'd had plenty of opportunity over the last few hours, but they'd admittedly had other priorities. He yelped as her cold fingers found his bare skin and he yanked away, reaching to catch hold of her hands if he could.

"That is not fair, tesoro!" he scolded.

Wicked did not do justice to the giggle his protest produced from his wife, who was beside herself with delight at yet another yelp from her husband. "Of course it is not fair," she agreed. "That is what makes it fun!"

"I warn you ....You are looking for trouble, mia cara," he warned, catching her hands between his own, but failing to look fierce at his threat. He did not bother to say what he might do in retaliation, but it wasn't too hard to guess.

"Only with you, Lory." Such a sweet answer had no right to come out of a face that was bright with loving mischief and the underlying current of desire rising in her eyes. Whatever else this marriage might be, it certainly would not be boring.

With that said, Lorenzo swept his wife up into his arms and carried her back to the bed, where he intended to fulfill his threat by showing her once again just how much he adored her.

Their fathers would have been well pleased to know that their half-hearted teasing as boys that their own children would marry and be happy someday had somehow come true. Pont-Elise would be a happy state for years to come, with so much happiness in its heart.