“Sir?” the coachman called down from his perch.
“Number Twenty-one Park Lane.”
Gillian waved good-bye as the coach pulled away from her parents’ town house into Park Lane traffic.
Two and a half blocks up the lane, the coach rolled to a stop in front of the open wrought-iron gates of Number Twenty-one Park Lane. Colin alighted from the coach first, then helped Gillian out.
“Shall I see to your luggage, sir?” the coachman asked.
Colin shook his head. “Wait for us.”
Gillian reached for Colin’s hand as they walked through the gate, down the steps, then up the brick path and the steps leading to the front door.
Colin paused at the front door and let go of Gillian’s hand in order to fish the keys out of his pocket. “Shall we try the keys?” he asked. “Or knock?”
“Mama said there’s a temporary staff in residence,” Gillian reminded him. “I suppose that means we should knock.”
“All right.” Colin bent at t
he knees and swung Gillian up and into his arms. “Go ahead.” He stepped close enough to allow Gillian to knock on the front door.
The door opened almost immediately, swinging back on well-oiled hinges to reveal a formally attired butler and a marble entryway.
“Good afternoon,” the butler said. “Lord and Lady Grantham?”
“Yes,” Gillian answered.
“Please, come in,” the butler invited, stepping back to allow them entrance. “And welcome. I’m Britton, and we’ve been awaiting your arrival.”
Colin carried Gillian across the threshold. “Welcome home, Lady Grantham.”
Gillian giggled. “Thank you, Lord Grantham. Welcome home to you.”
The members of the staff assembled in the front hallway echoed Gillian’s words. “Welcome to Herrin House, sir, ma’am.”
Colin raised an eyebrow in query as he stared down at Gillian. “Herrin House doesn’t have quite the same ring as Plum Cottage, does it?”
“No.” Gillian shook her head. “It doesn’t. But perhaps that will come in time.”
“Along with the special memories,” Colin added, in his low, husky burr.
“Along with the special memories,” Gillian affirmed.
Special memories. Her soft affirmation was nearly his undoing as desire hit him with the force of a gale wind. He fixed his gaze on Gillian’s soft mouth as everything receded except the sight and scent and feel of her in his arms. He wanted very much to kiss her, and his arms trembled with restraint as he fought to keep from pressing her closer as he covered her lips with his own. It was all Colin could do to keep from carrying Gillian upstairs and finding the nearest bedroom so they could begin making a lifetime of special memories.
Gillian looked up at him, and Colin’s body tightened in response as she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue in a self-conscious gesture that sent his blood rushing southward to the part of his anatomy throbbing against the front of his trousers.
He cleared his throat and made a feeble attempt at levity as he struggled to maintain his composure. “And if all else fails, we can always change the name.”
The look in Colin’s green eyes sent shivers up and down her spine. His arms trembled beneath her, and
Gillian automatically looped her arms around Colin’s neck and held on. “What name?”
Colin leaned so close his warm breath caressed her cheeks. “We seem to be causing a bit of a stir among our temporary staff.”
Suddenly recalling where she was and why, Gillian blushed and hid her embarrassment by pressing her face against Colin’s neck.
The brush of her lips against his neck sent a fresh, sharp jolt of awareness through him. “Shall I put you on your feet, my lady?” he whispered, “or would you like me to carry you on our first tour of our new home?”