"You're sleeping with me, in my bed," he told her in a rough whisper. "I've waited two long months, damn it. I'm not waiting any longer."
"What about our luggage?" Eleanor pestered.
"It's being taken care of," Harrison answered. "Quit shaking your head at me, Mary Rose. I meant what I said."
She wasn't going to argue with him in public. She would wait until they were alone to tell him about the decisions she'd made. Harrison was an intelligent man. He would understand how she felt.
"It hasn't been two months," Eleanor announced. She was determined to set Harrison straight. "You two have only been apart five short weeks. Mary Rose wanted to wait until the end of September to make the trip, but Adam wouldn't let her procrastinate that long."
Harrison came to an abrupt stop. "You wanted to wait until the end of September?"
"Now look what you've done, Eleanor. You've gotten him upset. Honestly, Harrison, we'll all get soaked if we don't hurry. We'll talk about this when we reach your home."
Neither Mary Rose nor Harrison said another word for a long, long while. The rain caught them at the corner, and by the time they were settled inside the carriage, they were all drenched.
They reached Harrison 's town house thirty minutes later. It was an impressive two-story home with red brick facade.
The door was opened by a young man dressed in a black coat and trousers. His name was Edward, and he was currently on loan from Lord Elliott to act as Harrison 's butler.
Eleanor was thrilled to have a servant attending her. She hurried inside the foyer first. Edward smiled in greeting, but when he turned around to say his hello to Mary Rose, his expression turned to a look of startled surprise.
"She looks like her mother's painting," he whispered to Harrison. "Mi'lord Elliott will have to believe as soon as he sees her. She's the image of Lady Agatha."
Mary Rose overheard Edward's comment. "Lord Elliott doesn't believe I'm his daughter?"
Edward looked embarrassed. "He wants to believe, mi'lady, but there have been so many disappointments in his life, he's afraid to have hope you are truly his Victoria."
Harrison took off his wet jacket and handed it to the young man. He didn't have anything to add to Edward's remarks.
"I simply must have a hot bath," Eleanor insisted. "Edward, be a dear and show me to my bedroom. I'm going to catch a chill if I don't get out of my wet dress."
"You can't catch a cold in July," Mary Rose told her friend. "It's too hot."
"Haven't you ever heard of a summer cold?" Eleanor argued. She then began to list her other aches and pains on her way up the stairs. Mary Rose was happy for the diversion. Each time she looked at Harrison, her heart felt like it was fluttering inside her chest. She wanted to shout at him because he'd hurt her so and kiss him because she'd missed him so much.
Edward hurried on up the stairs to see to Eleanor's comfort. Harrison took hold of Mary Rose's hand and led her down the opposite hallway to his bedroom.
It was gigantic in proportion. The colors were warm, earthy tones of brown and gold and rust. They were the hues of Montana in the autumn months, she thought to herself.
It was impossible for her not to notice the bed. It was quite regal-looking, with four posts, and it was big enough to sleep four people comfortably. She didn't believe she'd ever seen anything so grand.
Her stomach did a flip-flop. She couldn't block the thoughts of Harrison sleeping in the bed, and since he never wore anything when he slept, the images were very provocative.
She could feel herself blushing. She knew she was going to have to talk to Harrison now, before she lost her nerve. Looking at the bed was already making her weak-kneed and weak-willed.
" Harrison, we must have a talk. Now, please."
"He's left the chamber, mi'lady. Shall I have Caroline draw your bath for you?"
She whirled around and found Edward standing in the doorway.
"Where did Harrison go?"
"Back downstairs. Did you wish me to go and get him for you?" She shook her head. "I would like a bath, thank you. Why do you keep calling me mi'lady?"
"Because you're Lady Victoria. It's the proper form of address, mi'lady."
She didn't argue with him. Edward asked her if she also wanted cook to prepare a tray for her. He explained that Eleanor had requested a light meal to be served in her bedroom after she'd had her bath.
Mary Rose declined the food. She was too nervous to even think about eating.
For the next hour she was pampered by her lady's maid. The young woman's deference toward her embarrassed her. She felt as though she were a pretender to the throne each time Caroline called her mi'lady, and though she probably should have enjoyed her pampering, she found the maid only made her more nervous.
The hot bath helped, and taking the confining pins out of her hair made her feel much, much better. She soaked in the porcelain tub a long while, until the water turned too cold for comfort, and then wrapped herself in her robe and returned to Harrison 's bedroom.
Caroline spoke very little English. She used gestures and incoherent phrases to explain she wanted to brush Mary Rose's hair for her. The dark-haired woman appeared to be just as nervous as Mary Rose was, for her hands shook and her gestures were awkward as she tried to make herself understood.
Her French accent was quite apparent, and so Mary Rose spoke French to her when she explained she would brush her own hair. Caroline wouldn't let her mistress decline her assistance, however. She was even more determined than Mary Rose.
The maid kept up a constant chatter while she ushered Mary Rose to a straight-back chair. Mary Rose took her seat and clutched her robe tight over her collarbone while Caroline tended to her hair.
The last time anyone had ever brushed her hair for her was when she was a little girl, and she'd gotten peppermint candy chips stuck in her curls. Cole had had to work the sticky mess out of her hair. Mary Rose had learned a few new curses that day.
No one had ever had to brush her hair for her again. She felt so foolish sitting there like a princess while another woman took care of such a private chore.
The chair faced the bed. Mary Rose noticed one of her nightgowns had been spread out on the sheets. The covers had already been turned back, and there was a single, long-stemmed red rose on one of the pillows.
"Why is there a rose on the bed?" she asked Caroline.
"Your husband ordered it placed there, mi'lady. Wasn't that sweet of him?"
It was sweet, and therefore quite surprising in Mary Rose's estimation. It was such a romantic gesture. It wasn't like Harrison to be so attentive or thoughtful. He really wasn't the romantic sort. When he wanted something, he went after it with a vengeance. He was very like her brothers in that respect. Harrison didn't seem the type to add such an elegant touch, but then, she really didn't know him, now did she?
"Do you know what your husband told Edward when he ordered the rose? He said it was to remind you."
"Remind me of what?"
Caroline laughed. "That he loves you," she suggested. "What else could the flower mean, mi'lady?"
Mary Rose shrugged. She reached up and took hold of the brush. She had had quite enough pampering.
She thanked the maid for her assistance and dismissed her for the night. Caroline made a perfect little curtsy and bowed her head before she left the room. Mary Rose didn't know what to make of that.
She started toward the bed to get her nightgown but stopped when she heard the door open behind her. She turned around just as Harrison walked inside.
Her husband had also had a bath. His hair was still damp. He was barefoot and wore only a pair of dark trousers.
She wondered if he even owned a proper robe. He did like to walk around half-naked, and while that had been perfectly all right in Montana, it wasn't all right in London. There were maids running about, and Mary Rose didn't like the idea of any of those women seeing her husband's bare chest.