For the Roses (Claybornes' Brides (Rose Hill) 1)

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.

She thought about saying something to him about his lack of attire, then changed her mind. She would take on that issue later. Now she had a more important matter to address.

Harrison shut the door behind him, turned the bolt to lock it, and went to his wife.

He had a determined look on his face. She started backing away. “You and I must have a talk,” she began. She put her hand up to ward him off. “I mean it, Harrison. Stop right where you are.”

He ignored her command. Mary Rose continued to back up until the side of the bed prevented her from going any farther.

“All right,” he agreed. He reached for the belt holding her robe together and began to untie it. “Talk.”

She tried to push his hands away. He wouldn’t be deterred, however. He had her belt undone before she could draw a proper breath.

“I’m trying real hard not to become angry with you, Mary Rose.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What do you have to be angry about?”

“September,” he answered in a near shout. “Were you really going to wait until the end of September to come to England?”

She refused to be put on the defensive. “You deliberately lied to me. Leave my robe alone, damn it.”

“Then take it off, damn it.”

“Do you expect me to sleep with you?”

“I don’t expect you to sleep much at all. I’m going to keep you up all night making love to you. I want you, and I know damned good and well you want me.”

Tears came into her eyes. “I don’t trust you.”

“Yes, you do.”

She suddenly felt like throwing her hands up in despair. He was making it impossible for her to argue with him. He was deliberately refusing to be logical. She couldn’t p

resent a valid argument to a man who was in the process of taking his pants off.

“I’ve had a long time to think about our situation,” she began. “We are married, and because I made a commitment to you, I don’t feel it would be right for me to walk away. We’re going to have to start all over, Harrison.”

“And how to do you propose we do that?”

“You could court me, and in time I’m hopeful I’ll eventually learn to trust you again. I don’t feel I know you at all, Harrison. The man I loved broke my heart.”

Lord, but she was given to dramatics. He heard most of what she said to him. He paid attention too, until she got to the part about courting her. The hell with that, he thought to himself. They had gone way beyond courting days.

He was hard and aching with his need by the time he kicked his trousers aside and reached for her.

“Am I supposed to forget what it felt like to move inside you? I’ve had you, remember? I’ve felt you come in my arms, Mary Rose. I’ve heard you scream my name, felt you squeeze me tight, and if you really believe I can put those memories aside and start all over again, you’ve got to be out of your ever-loving mind.”

She could barely stand up straight by the time he finished reminding her what loving him had been like. The roughness in his voice made her shiver with desire to feel his touch once again.

“What do you suggest we do?”

“Come here and I’ll show you.”

She shook her head. She knew exactly what would happen if she moved into his arms. She wanted to reach some sort of understanding before she gave in to her own needs.

She kept her gaze directed on his face. “Tell me first.”

He grabbed hold of her shoulders. “No, you tell me something first. Do you still love me?”

She lowered her gaze to his chest. She didn’t want to start lying to him, even though she knew full well the truth would mean she would lose the argument.

“You broke my heart,” she told him once again.

“I warned you, remember?”

“You should have told me about my father.”

“No, the duty belonged to your brothers. It would have been wrong for me to tell you.”

“Then why weren’t you with them when they told me? It would have made it easier for me.”

“I was in Hammond defending a man in court when your brothers finally got around to telling you, and when I came back to the ranch, you’d disappeared. Damn it, Mary Rose, you shouldn’t have run away from me. I’m your husband.”

Considering the fact that she’d thought about killing him, she believed running away was a minor infraction in the rules governing marriage.

“I was extremely angry with you.”

He shrugged. It wasn’t the reaction she’d hoped to gain. “Where did you go?” he asked.

“Douglas took me to the Cohens’ house. I stayed with the family for two weeks. Are you sorry you hurt me?”

She was hoping for an apology. She didn’t know if it would help her get over her heartache, but she believed it might.

“I did what was necessary under the circumstances. In time you’ll realize that.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes, I love you.”

He pulled her up tight against him. “Can we please hold each other now?”

He put his arms around her and leaned down. He kissed her brow, the bridge of her nose, whispering all the while how much he’d missed her.

He pulled back, removed her robe, and then lifted her into his arms and fell onto the bed.

He was careful not to crush her with his weight, and once his body completely covered hers, he braced himself on his arms so he could look down into her eyes.

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

18

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.