Mail Order Match Maker (10 page)

Chapter Six

The following evening
, Max got home from work early and walked into the parlor where Harriett was sewing the new curtains.  He leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth and pulled a bouquet of roses from behind his back.  “I thought you’d be happy to have them to match your new sofa.”

She smiled and took them from him, inhaling deeply.  “Thank you, Max.  They’re wonderful!”
  She was thrilled he’d thought to surprise her with a gift.

He sat beside her on the sofa, leaning down to kiss her once more.  “My sister asked us to come to dinner tonight, and I agreed.  I meant to tell you last night, but with everything that happened, I forgot.”

Harriett smiled, thinking about all of their crazy nieces.  “That sounds like fun.  I’d love to go.”  She stood up, putting the roses on a table beside the sofa.  “Let me just get a vase for these, and then I’ll get changed to go.”  She folded the curtains she’d spent the afternoon working on and set them aside to finish up later.

He eyed her with confusion.  “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

She laughed.  “This is a simple day dress.  To go to dinner, I need to wear something prettier.” Why did men never understand anything about women’s fashion?

“I think you’re beautiful in whatever you wear.”  He stood up and pulled her into his arms, kissing her.  “Let’s never fight again.  I don’t like it when you’re angry with me.”

“I wasn’t angry at all.  I was worried you were angry with me.”  She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out of the room to get the vase.  She hated the idea of the flowers wilting because she wasn’t paying enough attention.

When she got back, she carefully arranged the flowers, while he sat on the couch watching her.  As soon as she was finished, he caught her hand and pulled her down onto his lap straddling him.  “We don’t have to be at dinner for another hour and a half,” he whispered against her ear.

She giggled.  “I know you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.  You wouldn’t want to do that right before going to your sister’s house.”   She gave him a stern look.  “Besides, the door is open and there are servants all around.”

The sofa was close enough to the door that she could lean back and
close the door from her position on his lap.  “Lock the door,” he whispered against her ear.

“I can’t do that!”
  She couldn’t believe he couldn’t wait until bedtime to make love.  Every day it was this way with him.

“Give me one good reason why not,” he said, while he applied his attentions to unbuttoning the back of her dress. 

She swatted his hand away.  “I don’t want the servants to think we’re in here making love!” she protested, blushing.

“I don’t know why not!  We are!”  His tongue found the inside of her ear and he took her lobe between his teeth, feeling her writhe against him.  “Lock the door, sweetheart.”

After a moment of indecision, she leaned back, closed the door, and turned the key in the lock.  She knew she was acting like a wanton woman, but she didn’t care.  She loved her husband, and if the only way she could show him was this, then she was certainly willing to do it.

She’d never made love anywhere but a bed before, so she had no idea how to go about anything, so she just sank down onto his lap and kissed him, figuring he could take care of the rest. 

He smiled with delight when she actually locked the door.  He’d been certain she would tell him to wait until bedtime like she usually did.  He kissed her with all the bottled up passion he’d been feeling.  The night before was the only night they hadn’t made love since their marriage, and he was feeling more than a little desperate to feel her surrounding him. 

His hands went to the hem of her skirt and he lifted it off of her hips, finding the small slit in her undergarment that would give him access to her body.  He spread the slit wide before reaching down to unbutton the front of his breeches and breathed a sigh of relief as his manhood sprang free. 

His eyes looked into hers as he asked, “Are you ready for me?”

She nodded, blushing slightly.  Someday she’d be used to his randiness, but that day was not yet there.

He slowly lowered her onto his shaft, arching slightly, but allowing her weight to aid his penetration.  Once he was fully imbedded inside her, his eyes closed and he let out a low groan.  “That’s what I needed.”

She stared at him, amazed that she was sitting on his lap with him inside her, but they were both fully clothed.  She sat for a moment, waiting for him to start moving inside her, but when he didn’t, she asked, “Why are you waiting?”
  Shouldn’t he be moving inside her like usual?

He smiled.  “You’re in control this time, baby.  When you’re ready, take care of us.”  He buried his lips in her neck, nibbling at the side of her throat.

“I don’t know what to do!”  She wiggled a little, wanting to feel the sweet release he always brought to her, but having no idea how to get them there.

He grinned, one corner of his mouth turning up at the side and his brown eyes dancing.  “Figure it out.”  He sat back against the couch, content to just stay still for as long as she needed.

Harriett frowned at him, concentrating on the feeling of having him so deeply inside her.  She wiggled her hips a little more, her right leg starting to pain her from her position on his lap.  “I’m not sure I can.  My leg.”  She bit her lip, not wanting him to be disappointed in her, but knowing she couldn’t sit there for much longer.

His eyes widened.  “I hadn’t thought of that.  Is it hurting a lot?”  He gripped her hips in his hands and started to lift her off him.  When she moaned he realized that even if it was hurting her some, she was enjoying what they were doing as well.  “Do you want me to take care of you?” he asked.

She shook her head.  “But you could help me?”  She wasn’t sure how, but she knew he’d know what to do.

He smiled, settling her on top of him again, before helping her move with his hands at her hips.  He began thrusting up as well, knowing how she liked to be touched.  They’d only been married a week, but he already knew her body as well as he knew his own.

He was careful of her leg at first, but when she was obviously enjoying herself, his thrusts became harder and deeper.  It was only moments before she arched her back, making a sound deep in her throat that let him know she’d found her release.  He thrust upward a few more times, before shooting his seed inside her.

Groaning
, he lifted her off him, settling her on his lap sitting sideways, where there would be no pressure on her leg.  “I’m sorry about your leg.  I didn’t think.” 

She smiled against his throat.  “No need to be sorry.  I enjoyed it.”
  And she had enjoyed it more than she cared to admit.

He pulled her face away so he could see her eyes, wanting to make sure she wasn’t hurting more than she’d let on.  “You’re not hurting because of it?”
  The concern in his eyes warmed her heart.

“It always hurts some, but it’s certainly not as bad as it was when it was first broken,” she told him honestly.  “I’ll be fine.”  She sat for another minute resting against him before standing, and letting her skirts fall back into place.  “I need to clean up and change clothes.  I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
  Her legs were shaky as she headed to the door.

He smiled, catching her hand as she headed for the door. 
“I love you, Harriett.”

Her face lit up at his words, but instead of replying, she put his hand to her lips
, kissing it before rushing out the door. 

*****

When they arrived at the Sullivan’s house for dinner, Mary looked ready to rip her hair out.  Rose was sitting in the parlor holding court with three different young men.  Harriett rose her eyebrows as she watched the young girl practice her flirting.  After a moment, she stepped into the room and smiled at her new niece.  “Good evening, Rose.  I haven’t met your friends yet.”  She looked at the three young men surrounding Rose, making it clear she wanted an introduction.

Rose smiled her sweetest smile.  Harriett knew it was her sweetest, because she’d seen her practice them all the day of her wedding.  “Aunt Harriett, these are my beaux.  This is Daniel,” she said indicating the young man beside her on the sofa.  “This is Alexander,” she said motioning to the boy on the floor at her feet who had a piece of paper in his hand as if he had just read her a poem of his own composition.  “And this is Theodore,” she announced as she pointed to the boy in the chair across the room, leaning forward earnestly as if he were trying to catch Rose’s attention.

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Harriett murmured before leaving the room to talk to Mary.  “Why does Rose have three beaux?”  She couldn’t believe her sister-in-law was putting up with such wild behavior from her oldest daughter.

Mary shook her head.  “The whole situation is a mess!  There are so many more men than women here, because of the lumber camps.  For each girl there are eight men.  Rose likes men.  So she’s playing them all.  They compete for her attention and she drinks up their affections like a bee drinking nectar.  I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Harriett frowned.  “Why don’t you make her choose?  Or more importantly, why don’t you make her wait a couple of years before she’s allowed to receive them?  You can’t think she’s old enough to be seriously considering beaux.”  Harriett had married when she was younger than Rose was, but her marriage had been a disaster.  She firmly believed that a girl needed to be at least eighteen to know her own mind well enough to choose a man to court her.

Mary shrugged helplessly.  “I was hoping that by having her learn about them all, she’d be able to make a better decision.  All it seems to do is spur her on to find even more boys to chase after her.”

Harriett shook her head.  “I’ve never had a daughter, so I can’t tell you what to do, but I think you should put a stop to it.”  She knew she was out of line giving advice, but she was worried Rose was headed down the path she’d gone down at sixteen.

“And tell her what?” Mary asked.  “I never dreamed my daughters would be so sought after.”

“If you want my opinion, I think you should tell her she’s not old enough to marry, and when she is old enough to marry, you’ll help her make her decision.”  She shrugged.  “I think with the number of men here, you need to check out the background of each man, make sure he has no violent tendencies, and then let her choose between the two or three best candidates.”

“I don’t know anything about choosing the best man.  I married the only boy I ever kissed as soon as I finished school.”
  Mary gave Harriett a bewildered look as if she had absolutely no idea what to do about Rose and her beaux.

Harriett nodded.  “Most girls do.”  She frowned for a moment.  “I ran my mail order bride business for a few years and got good at picking out the best men for the brides that wanted to marry.  I’ll jot down some notes about what to look for.  My butler would be happy to ask questions about each of the men as well.  He’s very good at investigating men.”  She blushed as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Max was standing behind her and asked, “Is that why he came out here early?  To make sure I wasn’t hiding anything?” His eyes looked sad, like he was hurt she hadn’t trusted him.

Harriett spun around when she heard his voice, her eyes closing as she faced him.  Behind her she heard Mary excuse herself discreetly.  Finally, she nodded.  “I was afraid to marry someone who I didn’t know anything about.”
  She knew she was being unfair, because they had written for two full years, but still she worried about what a future with him would be like.

He shook his head.  “We’d been writing to each other for two years!”

She shrugged helplessly.  “I couldn’t marry a man I’d never seen.  Even if I had been writing to him for two years.”  Her eyes pled with him for understanding.

He nodded slowly, indicating he understood whether he did or not.  “I guess we can’t change it now, can we?”

Harriett could tell by the look in his eyes that he was disappointed in her, but he didn’t have time to say anything else, because Violet and Iris came into the room then, each of them with something in their hands.  Violet, who had not said a word to Harriett before that moment, handed her a small canvas.  On it were small paintings of each of the oldest four girls with their name beside it.

Harriett was amazed by the girl’s talent.  “Did you paint these?” she asked.
  Each one was a perfect likeness of the girls she’d met on her wedding day.

Violet nodded.  “Do you like them?”

“They’re going to be so helpful!”  It would be easy to learn the girl’s names with something so beautifully done.  She looked down at the pictures as she read each girl’s name.  Rose was the oldest and had her brunette hair pulled into an elaborate bun in the picture.  Lily, the tomboy, had her red hair in a knot at the nape of her neck, as if she was trying to hide the fact she was a girl and make her hair look like it was short.  Amaryllis, the bookworm, as Harriett thought of her had her long, dirty blond hair in braids with her spectacles perched on the end of her nose.  Daisy, one of the girls Harriett didn’t remember at all, had her dark hair hanging in braids down her back, her eyes downcast as if she were feeling shy about something.