For the Roses (48 page)

There were tears streaming down her cheeks. "Do you want me to leave you, Mary Rose?" She shook her head, and he began to breathe again. And then she leaned up and kissed him. His mouth settled firmly on top of hers, but her tongue moved inside to explore the interior of his mouth first. The bold action aroused him as much as the feel of her silky body against him. She stroked his back and his shoulders, and made him shake with his own need in the space of a heartbeat. He wanted to slow their lovemaking, to pleasure her completely before he gave in to his own fulfillment, but her touch soon drove him beyond reason. She was so wonderfully responsive and giving, and, dear God, how he loved her.

He ended the kiss and lowered his head over her breasts. He began to stroke and tease her nipples with his tongue. She let out a ragged sigh of pleasure, urging him now, and when he took one nipple into his mouth and began to suckle, her sighs turned to moans. She arched up against him, moved her toes restlessly against his legs, and tried to get even closer to him.

His touch became rougher, less controlled. His hand caressed a path down her belly and lower still, until he found what he most wanted to possess. He felt the damp heat between her thighs and completely lost his discipline then. His fingers moved up inside her.

Mary Rose raked her nails across his shoulders, demanding now that he stop his torment and mate with her completely.

He didn't move quickly enough to suit her. She reached down and took hold of his arousal, and with her fingers closed around him, he let out a low growl of pleasure.

There could be no more waiting. He grabbed hold of her hands and roughly put them around his back as he moved to position himself. And then he entered her with one smooth thrust. His jaw was clenched tight, for the rush of ecstasy was almost too much for him to bear.

"God, you feel good," he whispered. "Don't move like that, not yet. Let me, ah, sweetheart, you're making me want to…"

He couldn't go on. She had robbed him of the ability to talk at all. He was beyond thinking now, could only feel the incredible bliss of her hips moving against him. She drew her legs up to take him more completely inside her and wrapped her arms around his neck. She craved fulfillment now, for each time he thrust deep inside her, she felt a burst of splendor rush through her. His slow penetrating movements made her demand more and more until she was mindless of everything but the feel of him delving inside her. She pulled on his hair and scored the back of his neck with her nails. Her whimpers became more insistent and drove him over the edge. His thrusts became harder, deeper, and when he felt the first spasms of her orgasm, when she arched up against him and squeezed him tight inside her, he allowed his own release. He shouted her name as wave after wave of excruciating pleasure washed over him. She felt the splendor explode inside her. There was only a second or two of fear before she gave in to the feeling and allowed it to consume her. She clung to her husband, knowing in her heart that he would keep her safe.

It took her long minutes to return to reality. Harrison held her close and stroked her. He whispered loving, nonsensical words against her ear that she thought were perfectly logical, for he was letting her know without any doubt how much he had missed her.

She fell asleep with her husband nibbling on her earlobe but was awakened an hour later by his caresses. They made love once again during the dark hours of the night, and then yet again as the sun was beginning its ritualistic climb into the sky.

Each time she gave herself willingly to him, and when she began to come apart in his arms, she was filled with a sense of wonder because she felt so completely safe with him.

She loved Harrison with all her heart. She would be an understanding wife and learn to forgive him for deceiving her. In time she would be able to trust him again.

She fell asleep praying that was true.

February 24, 1871

Dear Mama:

Today I found out all about how babies get made. Adam told me exactly what happens between a man and a lady. He said I shouldn't scrunch up my face and look so disgusted, but it's hard not to feel sick inside, Mama. It makes me want to puke when I think about a man trying to climb up on top of me. Travis and Douglas think making babies is disgusting too. They didn't say so, but they couldn't look at me when they tried to explain how it happens. They both got red faces too. I don't think they will ever want to climb up on any ladies. I don't know what Cole thinks about it though. He got mad at me for asking him to explain and then he sent me to Adam.

Your son told me that mating between a man and a woman was beautiful. I think he was just teasing me. What do you think about making babies, Mama? You had Adam, so I know you had to have his papa on top of you once. Was it sickening?

Cole's putting the finishing touches on the ceiling of the library of our fine home. He's so particular about his cut work on the mouldings. He works almost every night, and I know he wishes he could work on the house during the days too, but he can't because Douglas needs his help breaking in the horses. I had to give another swatch of my hair to the Indians again. They're very nice to me now and don't try to steal me away from Adam. They're still scared of him. Adam gives them food and tries to be polite, but I don't think he trusts them. He still hasn't forgotten what almost happened when those renegades tried to take me.

The Indians think I bring them good fortune. Isn't that silly, Mama?

Why don't you hate Livonia? Sometimes I think you should. I know she's afraid and she depends on you, but I was thinking, maybe if you're mean to her, she'll let you go. I miss you sorely,

Mary Rose

Mary Rose was nervous about meeting her father. She didn't understand her own reaction. She had nothing to fear from the man. He was a stranger to her, and she would be polite and kind and compassionate to him. Lord Elliott had suffered a terrible loss, she reminded herself once again, and, just as her brothers had suggested, it was her duty to try to comfort him. Harrison had awakened her with the news that Elliott wanted them to move into his country home with him for an undetermined length of time.

She'd started in worrying then. She thought perhaps some of her fear was due to the fact that she knew absolutely nothing of consequence about him. Harrison had told her he was rich and he was intelligent. Neither defined in her mind what the man was really like, however. Wealth meant little to her, and while hearing that her father was intelligent pleased her, it was still all too vague for her liking. She didn't know anything about his values or his attitudes.

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 insidea 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 hanging 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."