For the Roses (50 page)

"My dear, you're now a married woman, and therefore you are under your husband's control. Harrison's home is in England. Surely you realize you must stay here with him." She didn't realize any such thing. She wasn't about to share her views with Lillian though.

"Are you married, Aunt Lillian?"

"I was. My dear Kenneth passed on five years ago. We weren't blessed with children."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Mary Rose said.

"I keep busy. I have my charity projects and of course the family requires a great deal of my time and attention. Robert has seven children. They're always getting in trouble. Barbara's a sweet woman, but she can't control her brood. They have six girls and one boy," she added with a nod. "You will meet all of them in another hour or two."

"Who are Robert and Barbara?"

"They're your uncle and aunt. William, your father, is the firstborn, then I came along, then Daniel, and finally Robert. Barbara's his wife. Do you have a more suitable dress to put on before we dine, my dear?"

Mary Rose looked down at her skirts. She didn't see any smudges or wrinkles that were overly noticeable. "Is something wrong with this dress?"

"It's hopelessly old-fashioned."

"I paid a bloody fortune for the material," she argued.

Lillian let out a loud gasp. Her hand went to the base of her throat. "You mustn't talk like that, Victoria. One simply doesn't use the word 'bloody' unless one is common. We'll have to start work on improving your manners immediately. We have so much to do before you're presented to society. You mustn't forget who your father is."

She wasn't certain what her aunt was telling her, but the intense look on her face indicated it was important.

"No, I won't forget who my father is," she agreed. "Why haven't you remarried, Aunt Lillian? You're such a pretty woman. If you lived in Montana, you would have been pursued by at least ten men before your dearly departed was even in the ground."

"Good heavens, child. Don't be impertinent."

"I'm not being impertinent," Mary Rose countered. "Just honest." Lillian reached up to make certain her bun was intact, then stood up. "You'll have to remember to keep your opinions to yourself, Victoria. You're bound to shock people if you say what's on your mind." It suddenly occurred to Mary Rose that Lillian was accepting her as her brother's child.

"You couldn't have changed your mind so quickly, madam," she remarked.

"The proof's difficult to argue with, but I shall reserve judgment. I'm giving you the benefit of my doubts, my dear."

"Why?"

"It's rude to ask so many questions, Victoria. Come along inside. Your father and your husband have waited long enough for your company."

"I have a favor to ask of you first."

Lillian turned back to her niece. "Yes?"

"Please call me Mary Rose."

"But you aren't Mary Rose any longer, now, are you? You're Victoria. You're going to have to get used to hearing your name."

She latched on to Mary Rose's arm and pulled her along. "I understand your friend will be joining you tomorrow. What is her name?"

"Her name is Eleanor," Mary Rose explained. "I believe you'll like her, Aunt Lillian. Her manners are

better than mine."

"We shall see about that," Lillian replied.

Mary Rose followed her aunt inside the salon. Neither Harrison nor her father noticed her. They were in the midst of a heated debate.

"They want you to have this money, sir. I believe you should take it," Harrison said. He stood in front of the hearth with his back to his bride. Mary Rose walked over to her husband and stood next to his side.

"I will not take it," Lord Elliott announced for the third time. "Send it back to them, Harrison." Harrison shook his head. Mary Rose brushed her arm against his. He immediately took hold of her hand.

"Are you talking about the money my brothers sent?" she asked.

"Yes," Harrison answered. "Your father doesn't want it back." Lord Elliott was sitting in a wing chair adjacent to the hearth. Mary Rose turned to him.

"It would please my brothers if you would take the money back, Father." The look on Elliott's face indicated he was going to be stubborn about it. He started to say something to her, then changed his mind and turned to his sister for assistance.

Lillian immediately hurried forward. "You shouldn't involve yourself in this discussion, Victoria. Let the men sort it all out. Shall we go upstairs and look through your clothes? I'm sure we'll be able to find something a little more suitable for you to wear tonight."

Mary Rose heard Harrison sigh. He squeezed her hand and looked down at her. "Go ahead, sweetheart. We'll talk about this later."

She'd been properly dismissed. If she'd been back home, she would have argued something fierce about being excluded from "men's talk," but she wasn't home now. She was in England. The rules weren't at all the same here, and she was suddenly feeling unsure of herself. She had promised her brothers she would try to get along with all of her relatives, and so she meekly followed her aunt out of the room. She paused at the entrance to give Harrison a good frown just to let him know what she thought about being excluded, but his reaction wasn't at all sympathetic. He actually winked at her, and that only pricked her temper all the more. She let out a sigh then and went on up the stairs. She would have to wait until later to let Harrison know how she felt.

She spent the next hour arguing with her aunt Lillian about her wardrobe. The woman seemed obsessed with clothes. Mary Rose found her behavior puzzling. She thought it was ridiculous that Lillian couldn't find anything suitable for her to wear. Why, she showed her eight perfectly lovely day dresses. Lillian looked them over, then shook her head. In a haughty tone of voice, she emphatically rejected every single one of them.

Mary Rose tried not to let her feelings get involved. Things were different here, she reminded herself.

Still, she had personally chosen the fabric and the style of two of the dresses her aunt had found so distasteful. She couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

She ended up keeping her blue dress on. Lillian went back downstairs to send a messenger to a dressmaker.

She paused in the doorway. "Tomorrow, after you've had your examination by the physicians my brother has scheduled, you and I will go over fabrics and begin to build your wardrobe."

"I don't need to see a doctor," Mary Rose protested. "I feel fine, really."

"Don't be difficult, Victoria. It's for your own good. I shall make certain you're seated next to me at the table tonight so that I can assist you with your table manners. You may rest now for an hour, and then come downstairs. Robert and his family should be here by then."

"Aunt Lillian? You mentioned another brother, Daniel. Will he be visiting?"

"Daniel and his wife are in the south of France. They'll be back home in another week or two. You'll meet him then. His wife's name is Johanna. They have three children, all fine boys. Have your nap now, Victoria. I'll send Ann Marie in to assist you."

Mary Rose didn't ask why she needed a maid to help her rest. Lillian would only tell her she was being impertinent again. She didn't argue about taking a nap either, though she couldn't imagine why anyone would want to sleep during the day. She wasn't at all tired, but, Lord, she was weary. There were so many names to remember, and so many rules she must try to obey.

How in heaven's name was she going to meet everyone's expectations? Mary Rose had never run away from a challenge, and she wasn't about to start now. She decided she would do whatever was required to please her relatives.

Ann Marie came into the room to help her remove her dress, then turned back the covers on the bed. Mary Rose was really expected to rest, she supposed, when the young servant pulled the drapes closed. The room was quite spacious and was done in rich gold tones. She found it quite soothing. She stretched out on the bed wearing only her chemise and stacked her hands behind her head. She stared up at the ceiling while she tried to sort out her feelings.

She thought about her father and what a kind man he was. She liked the way he smiled. She liked his voice too. It was soft, yet commanding. When she wrote to her brothers she would tell them Lord Elliott was a very nice man.

Harrison came inside just a few minutes later.

"Your father's being stubborn," he told his wife. "He seems to think the money your brothers sent should go right back to them. He called it payment for letting you live with them. He doesn't understand, of course."

Mary Rose rolled onto her side so she could look at her husband. "He didn't like it when I mentioned my brothers. I could tell by the way he looked at me. He seemed… disappointed."

"Give him time to get used to the idea of you having another family," Harrison suggested.

"Did you know I must have an examination tomorrow by two physicians?" Harrison took off his jacket, tossed it on a nearby chair, and then sat down on the side of the bed. He bent over to take his shoes and socks off. "Your father mentioned it to me," he remarked.

"Why must I be examined? I feel fine."

"The doctors will give your father the assurance he seems to need. It can't do any harm, can it? I'll put a stop to it if you really don't want to be looked over."

She thought about it for a minute and then decided to appease her father. Her husband was right, she supposed. There couldn't be any harm in being examined.

"It's a waste of good money," she said in a halfhearted attempt to protest. "But I'll go along with his plans. You haven't asked me what I think of my father. Aren't you curious?" He half turned to smile at her. "I already know what you think. You're curious about him, of course. I've noticed the way you stare at him when he isn't looking at you. You already like him, and I think you'd like to love him."

She nodded. Harrison was as observant as ever. "I'm his daughter. I should love him, shouldn't I?"

"Yes."

"Can I trust him?"

He was surprised by the question. "Yes," he answered. "You can trust him. You can trust me too, you know."

She didn't want to talk about that. She tried to change the subject then, but Harrison wouldn't let her.

"I realize I shouldn't have demanded you trust me. It was probably a little arrogant of me."

"Probably?"

"You haven't figured it all out yet, have you?"

"Figured what out?"

"That love and trust go hand in hand. You couldn't love me if you didn't trust me. And you do love me, don't you?"

She didn't answer him. The issue of trust was still tender for her to talk about. Harrison had hurt her by deliberately deceiving her. She understood why he'd kept silent about his reason for coming to her ranch… in the beginning. Yes, she understood his motives, but after they'd given their pledge of love to one another, he'd continued to keep silent. He'd explained that the duty of telling her about her father belonged to her brothers. She understood that fact as well.

Yet he had deceived her, and, though she was afraid to voice her fear, she didn't know if he would ever deceive her again.

Trust between them would have to be rebuilt, stone by stone, and Harrison was going to have to be patient with her until she got over her fears.

"I'm not ready to discuss this with you," she announced. "You're going to have to give me time to sort it all out, like it or not. Yes, I do love you," she added when he gave her such a ferocious frown. "And while you're waiting, you might think about learning how to trust me," she added.

"You're making me angry, Mary Rose."

"But you love me, don't you?"

"Yes, I love you."

He didn't sound happy about the fact. She wasn't upset by his attitude. Harrison liked to have everything in neat little compartments, and having to wait for anything went against his grain. He'd been logical with her, and he fully expected her to behave and think in the same manner.

"I hope I can remember everyone's names tonight."

She was deliberately changing the subject. Harrison went back to the task of removing his pants. "I'll help you remember. We need to talk about George MacPherson, sweetheart. He's your father's personal assistant. He won't be here tonight; he still isn't back from his holiday yet. I don't want you to tell him how Douglas saw a man and a woman together on the street corner with the basket. Act as if you don't know anything about that night."

"Is he the one who took me?'"

"I think so, but I still haven't proven it. I've been poring over the old ledgers. MacPherson couldn't have saved up thousands of dollars to give to his accomplice, so he had to have taken the money out of one of Elliott's accounts. I haven't found the discrepancy yet. I will though."

"Wasn't MacPherson investigated at the time of the kidnapping?"

"Yes, he was. I don't believe the authorities looked at the books as thoroughly as they should have though."

"Could I help you?"

He started to deny her request, then changed his mind. She was his wife now, and although he was used to working alone, he found he wanted her to be involved. Working together would be a novel experience.

"Yes, you can help."

"You do realize that if we simply asked Douglas to come to England, he could point MacPherson out as the culprit."

"Memories change over the years and so do appearances," Harrison replied. "The defense would shred Douglas's recollections. It wouldn't be reliable without supporting evidence."

"Have you told my father about MacPherson?"

"Not yet," Harrison answered. "I don't think he'll be able to work with the man if he knows I plan to tell him everything, of course, just as soon as I find proof. Do you want me to tell him now?"

"Would you if I wanted you to?"

"Yes."

She was pleased that Harrison would do what she wanted. She considered the problem and then decided he was right to wait.

"It would be difficult for him not to show his hand, and then MacPherson could very well become suspicious. Why, he could disappear on us, and we can't have that, can we? No, I think we should wait to tell him. He'll understand."