"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 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.