She plied Harrison with questions on their way to Elliott’s estate.
“You explained that those who could afford to left the city during the summer months, but you didn’t explain why,” she began.
“It’s too hot in the city. Everything sort of shuts down until September.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t understand why we couldn’t wait for Eleanor. Didn’t you want her to accompany us today?”
“Sweetheart, she wouldn’t get out of bed, remember? She’ll follow us tomorrow, with Edward and the rest of the staff.”
“How long does Lord Elliott expect us to stay with him?”
“For as long as you wish to stay.”
He stretched out his long legs in front of him and tried to act relaxed. He knew his wife was nervous. She was wringing her hands together now, but he doubted she realized what she was doing.
She’d had difficulty deciding on a dress to wear too, and such behavior wasn’t like her at all. She wasn’t one to worry about her appearance, but she’d been concerned this morning, and he thought he understood why.
She didn’t want to disappoint her father. “He’s going to love you, sweetheart.”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Will I like him?” she asked.
Harrison seemed surprised by her question. He suddenly leaned forward and took hold of her hands. “Yes, you’ll like him. You’re going to have to ...”
She waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she prodded him. “I’ll have to what?”
He let out a sigh. “I was going to tell you to trust me, but that’s a sore point with you, isn’t it?”
She looked down at her hands. “I don’t wish to talk about trust now. You broke my heart, Harrison.”
“So you’ve said,” he replied dryly.
She looked up at him so he could see her disgruntled expression. He shook his head at her.
“You really do hold a grudge, don’t you? If you’d use that logical head of yours, you’d realize . . .”
“I’d realize you could have told me but you chose not to, that’s what I’d realize,” she whispered. She pulled her hands away from his. “I shouldn’t have worn this blue dress. It makes me look pale.”
“You look fine.”
“I don’t want to look fine.”
“England is beautiful, isn’t it?” he remarked, hoping to change the subject.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “The countryside is lovely. It isn’t home though.”
“Give yourself time to adjust to the changes, Mary Rose.”
“I miss my brothers.”
“Did you miss me after I left?”
She wouldn’t answer him. He leaned back again and turned to look out the window. It had been drizzling when they left the city, but the sun was out now, and it was turning into a glorious day.
“We’ll be early,” he said. “Your father doesn’t expect us until around four this afternoon. We’ll reach his estate before noon.”
“Is it true everyone sleeps in and stays up half the night?”
Harrison nodded. “It’s true. Are you tired today? I kept you up most of last night.”
She immediately started to blush. “No, I’m not tired.”
He grinned. “I am. Your body’s forgiven me.”
“You aren’t making any sense, Harrison.”
She looked flustered. He thought it was a telling reaction. “You can’t help the way you respond to me, can you? Do you remember how you . . .”
“I was there,” she blurted out. “You don’t have to remind me of what happened between us. Please tell me how Lord Elliott reacted when he heard about me. I’m most curious.”
“You’re deliberately changing the subject. I’d rather talk about the way you felt in my arms last night.”
“For the love of God, will you answer my question and stop this talk about lovemaking?”
“He didn’t believe me.”
“Who?”
Harrison laughed. She was rattled all right, and that realization made him feel an immense amount of pleasure.
“Your father,” he explained.
She let out a sigh. Then she picked up her fan, unfolded it, and began to wave it in front of her face.
“I spent several hours convincing him,” Harrison told her. “He’s afraid to believe, Mary Rose. Want to sit on my lap?”
“No, I don’t want to sit on your lap.”
“I want to kiss you.”
“You can’t. I’ll get all mussed.”
Harrison had his way. Before she could even think about pushing him away, he lifted her across the seat and settled her on his lap. For comfort’s sake, she put one arm around his shoulders, even as she glared at him for ignoring her decision to be left alone.
“I don’t like your hair pinned up like that.”
“Do you know why I’m glad you didn’t cut your hair?”
“Why?”
She began to stroke the back of his neck, letting his silky hair thread through her fingers.
“You look more like a mountain man now and not so much like a refined Englishman.”
He was kissing the side of her neck. She felt the shivers all the way down to her toes. She let out a soft sigh and tilted her head back to give him better access.
She thought she knew why he was becoming so amorous. He’d guessed she was worried and was trying to take her mind off her father.
It was certainly working. His warm breath against her ear aroused her, and all she wanted to think about was getting a proper kiss from him.
She didn’t like being manipulated, however, and she thought she’d tell him just that after he’d finished kissing her.
“How come you always smell so good, sweetheart?”
“I take baths,” she answered.
He laughed as he cupped her chin in his hand and turned her toward him.
And then he gave her a proper kiss. His mouth was warm and hard as it settled possessively on top of hers. His tongue moved inside to tease and taste, and it wasn’t long at all before Mary Rose stopped worrying about everything but kissing him back.
He couldn’t keep up the tender love play long. One kiss made him want it all. In no time at all, he was hard and aching to be inside her.
He pulled back from her and let his forehead drop down on top of hers. “Honest to God, Mary Rose, it isn’t possible for me to kiss you without wanting to tear your clothes off and make love to you. Stop it now, sweetheart. Don’t provoke me.”
Mary Rose was kissing his neck and feeling incredibly powerful because of his reaction to her touch. His breathing was ragged, and he visibly shuddered.
She let out another little sigh of pleasure. She leaned up and kissed his chin. He told her to behave herself. She ignored the suggestion and stroked his lower lip with her tongue.
He growled low in his throat and tightened his hold around her waist. He was through trying to behave like a gentleman. He gave her a hot, wet, open-mouth kiss and then another and another. Mary Rose soon forgot where they were. She kept trying to get closer to her husband, to feel just a little more of his heat against her, and her restless movements in his lap made his own control vanish.
Making love to his wife seemed like a sound idea to him, and he didn’t care at all that they were inside a moving vehicle. He wanted her, and she wanted him. Nothing else mattered.
She finally came to her senses when she felt his hand on her thigh. How he’d managed to get under her skirts was beyond her.
“What in heaven’s name are we doing?” she whispered in a voice that trembled with her need. “We’re in a carriage, Harrison. What could you be thinking?”
“We’re married. It’s all right. We can make love wherever we want to.”
It sounded logical to him. Mary Rose pulled his hands away from her and moved back to the opposite seat. Her hand shook when she reached up to secure the pins in her hair, and it was only then that she realized her curls were h
anging down around her shoulders.
Harrison was responsible for her disheveled appearance. She gave him a good frown as she threaded her fingers through the mass and tried to make the curls behave.
“You look beautiful.”
The way he looked at her told her he believed she was beautiful. She quit trying to improve on her appearance then.
“Lust has made you blind,” she told him.
“We’re here. The gate we just passed is the entrance to your father’s estate. He has over a hundred acres.”
She took a deep breath. “Was he happy to hear you married me?”
“He was,” Harrison replied. “But he was also disappointed he missed the ceremony. He wants to have another one.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t believe that’s necessary.”
“He does,” Harrison told her. “You can discuss it with him, after you’ve gotten to know him. Sweetheart, quit gripping your hands together. It’s going to be all right. Just lean on me if you get scared.”
“I’m perfectly capable of standing on my own two feet. My father doesn’t frighten me.”
It was all bluster on her part. Harrison wasn’t going to argue with his wife though. If she wanted him to believe she wasn’t scared, he’d pretend to believe her.
“Will the relatives be there too? Oh, Lord, Harrison, his house is huge. How many bedrooms are there?”
“Twelve, I think. I’m not certain. The relatives are scheduled to arrive late today.”
“What time is it now?”
“Not quite eleven,” he answered after he checked his pocket watch.
The carriage rounded a corner and then began the climb up to a circle drive in front of a large white home Mary Rose thought looked very like a palace. There were flowers everywhere and carefully manicured lawns with shrubs shaped into perfect lines.
There were tall stone lions on either side of the steps leading up to the front door. The stairs were red brick. She thought they must have cost a fortune to ship into England and then realized they were probably made somewhere around the city. Everything had to be shipped by rail and then by wagon into Blue Belle, but her father’s home was only a short ride from a major city. It was completely different here. She would have to remember that, she thought to herself.
Harrison helped her out of the carriage. They walked side by side up the steps. The front door was black, with an oblong gold knocker in the very center. Two large white planter boxes were on either side of the entrance, and were filled with spring flowers in every color of the rainbow. Thick vines of lime green ivy trailed down the sides.
Mary Rose moved closer to Harrison as he reached up and knocked on the door. It was opened less than five seconds later by a thick-shouldered man named Russell. He bowed low and then hastily moved back to allow them entrance.
His reaction to the sight of her was similar to the reaction of the butler she’d met in Harrison’s town house. Russell looked just as startled as Edward had been.
“Yes, Russell, my wife does resemble Lady Agatha,” Harrison said before the servant could gather his wits and make the comment.
The elderly man’s eyes crinkled up in a smile. “She gave me quite a start, mi’lord,” he admitted in a whisper.
Mary Rose barely paid attention to the conversation. She stood in the center of the foyer and stared about her in wonder. The entrance was every bit as impressive as the outside of the house. The floor was covered with squares of black and white marble, and its area alone was as large as Mary Rose’s entire house back home. There was a grand circular staircase in front of her. Hanging low from a ceiling at least three floors high was a magnificent crystal chandelier. There were over fifty candles in the sparkling fixture, and Mary Rose couldn’t imagine how anyone could reach that high to light them.
“Where’s Lord Elliott?” Harrison asked. “Has he come downstairs yet today, or is he working in the library?”
“I’m not certain where he is at the moment, mi’lord. He wasn’t expecting you until late this afternoon. Would you like to go upstairs and wait in the library while I search for him?”
Harrison shook his head. “It’s too fine a day to stay inside. We’ll go on out back and wait in the garden.”
He pulled Mary Rose along after him. They went through another gigantic room she thought was probably called a salon or a parlor. There were two large sitting areas with settees facing each other, a gigantic marble-faced fireplace, and several round-backed chairs and small wooden tables with glass tops.
The fabric on all of the furniture was a rich ivory brocade. Mary Rose stopped to admire the room. She didn’t believe she’d ever seen anything so extravagant.
Harrison watched her. “What are you thinking? You look puzzled about something,” he remarked.
“It isn’t practical,” she whispered so she wouldn’t be overheard by the staff. “A day’s worth of dust coming in through the windows would ruin the cloth. Who would put white on their chairs?”
“Do you like it?”
“Oh, yes, but I would’t dare sit on such fine chairs. I might put a smudge on one of them.”
Harrison suddenly wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her. She was so wonderfully unspoiled.
“Shall we go on outside?” He took hold of her hand again and pulled her along to a pair of French doors. There was a wide stone courtyard beyond, surrounded by a three-foot-high brick wall. The courtyard overlooked a garden to rival all the pictures she’d seen of gardens owned by kings.
Harrison pushed the doors open and followed her outside. “Your father likes flowers,” he remarked. “He told me once that when he has a particular puzzle to solve, he goes outside and pulls weeds. He’s figured out how to win many a legal case while he was down on his knees. Your father surrounds himself with riches, but it’s the simple things in life he most enjoys.”
Mary Rose nodded, but didn’t comment on Harrison’s explanation. He directed her to a cluster of chairs with yellow cushions and suggested she sit down and relax while he went to help Russell locate her father.
“Shouldn’t we take our luggage upstairs and unpack our clothes? My dresses are going to be wrinkled if I don’t hang them up right away.”
“Staff will take care of our luggage.”
She sat down and folded her hands in her lap. “Yes, of course,” she agreed.
She’d forgotten about all the servants Lord Elliott employed. Harrison had rattled off at least a dozen names of men and women who worked for her father. She couldn’t imagine having so many people attending to her needs. She was used to doing for herself, and she wasn’t at all certain she would be able to adapt to the change very well.
Harrison leaned down and kissed her brow before going back inside. She was too nervous to sit still long. She didn’t have the faintest idea what she would say to her father when she finally came face to face with him, and it had become extremely important to her that she find just the right words. She didn’t want to disappoint him. He had searched for her most of her life, and a simple “Nice to meet you” didn’t seem appropriate.
Mary Rose decided to walk along the stone path that led throughout the garden, hoping the leisurely stroll would help her calm her racing heartbeat and organize her thoughts.
She turned the first corner and was suddenly surrounded by the fragrance of summer. There were flowers all around her. The mingling of the scents reminded her of her valley back home, and though it didn’t make much sense to her, she could feel herself begin to relax a little. She took a deep breath, clasped her hands behind her back, and continued on. She stopped several times to lean down and examine more closely a flower she didn’t recognize. One she found most curious. The flower had red and pink petals that reminded her of a rose, yet when she bent down to inhale the scent, she was surprised by the heavy aroma of lilacs.
Being alone in the beautiful garden soothed her. She was pleased to know Lord Elliott liked the outdoors, and she thought that the two of them
had something in common after all to talk about. She could tell him about her garden back home, and he could name all the flowers in his backyard paradise for her.
She straightened up and continued on along the path, and when she turned the next corner, she spotted an elderly man, bent down on one knee, carefully examining a flower. The man wasn’t dressed like a gardener, for he wore dark Sunday pants and a sparkling white shirt. He’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Mary Rose couldn’t see his face because he wore a straw hat with a wide brim pulled down low on his forehead.
She thought he might be her father, but she couldn’t be certain, of course, and she didn’t know quite how to proceed. She almost turned around to hurry back to the courtyard, then changed her mind and continued forward.
Elliott heard the rustle of skirts behind him and assumed one of the maids had come outside to see if she could be of assistance. He reached over to his side, pulled the basket he’d already filled with flowers, and lifted it up for the maid to take.
“My daughter might like to have more than one vase of fresh flowers in her room,” he explained.
He still hadn’t looked up at her. Mary Rose took hold of the handle of the basket in her left hand, looped it over her arm, and continued to stand there, feeling completely tongue-tied and foolish.
Elliott didn’t seem to notice she hadn’t immediately taken the flowers inside. She patiently waited for him to look up at her. She thought she would probably begin the conversation by introducing herself, and, Lord, how she prayed her voice wouldn’t betray her nervousness.
“I wonder if my Victoria likes flowers,” he remarked.
She took a deep breath. “I like them very much, Father.”
Elliott went completely still for what seemed an eternity to her, and then he slowly turned to look up.
For the Roses Page 48
