*Rapunzel*
Laughter fights with an aching, twisting need in my heart. I can't look at Horace any longer without leaning in to kiss him. I close my eyes and put my cheek against his shoulder. "It's a very good thing to have principles," I say, the words coming soft and low. "You must have laughed when I wrote you about mistresses, let alone diseases."
"I didn't laugh. It was a fair question. There's many men who have a mistress in addition to his mate. But I always hoped that I'd find a mate who would want to carry my children, and how could I dishonor that mate by pouring gold into the lap of a she-wolf whom I had no intention of marrying?"
I turn and kiss Horace's neck. It's a strong column, that neck. "You are a complicated man."
"These are not complicated things. There's an old Scot
