Her love for him had quadrupled every day. She was surprised he could not tell. He seemed almost oblivious to anything but the enjoyment of her body. She, on the other hand, could not have given anything without the presence of it.

Was that the difference between men and women? Or was she more like her father than her mother?

The questions haunted her.

In the end, she knew there was nothing she could do. Her pride would not let her confess her

deepest-felt emotions first. Better he think she was like him-carefree and unconcerned about such aweighty commitment. After all, he'd been willing to marry her without even knowing her.No, she'd keep her love a secret, but, please God, don't let me be like my father.With that prayer, she climbed back into bed beside Colin and fell asleep.

Colin opened his eyes. Rosalyn's breathing was slow and rhythmic now. He was certain she was asleep.

The moonlight through the window highlighted the curve of her cheeks. He wondered what was bothering her... and why she didn't confide in him.

He feared he knew the answer.

Tomorrow, they would return to the Valley. Tomorrow, he would find out if she resented no longer

being Lady Rosalyn.Of course, she must. He understood the power in title. It was the reason he wanted one.He also understood that of late, Rosalyn had moments of deep introspection like the one she had this night. Moments when he could feel her watch him. The mind that had once been so open to him now

seemed closed. He could not divine her thinking at all, not when the subject was himself.

Then again, he feared he knew the directions of her thoughts. She'd married beneath herself. Of course she would have doubts. Why else would she be so quiet?

It was a long time before he went to sleep.

The next morning, Colin woke an hour later than he'd planned. His desirable wife still hugged the pillow.For the past several mornings, he'd woken her by making love to her. This morning, he didn't.He needed a little distance between them in case she decided that what had happened between them in Scotland stayed in Scotland.

Colin took the time to shave and dress before he finally woke Rosalyn. She frowned at him groggily.

"You're dressed?"

"Yes, I need to go outside and make final arrangements."

She nodded, her thoughts apparently elsewhere.

"Disappointed?" he asked, wanting to know if she missed their morning ritual.

"No, that's fine," she said absently. She pushed her curls back from her face with one hand. "We must go." She smiled, and he couldn't decide if she was happy to be leaving or regretful.

Colin stood a moment, debating whether or not to ask what had kept her up last night.

"Go," she said, waving her hand. "Say hello to Oscar."

Well, there it was-marching orders. He started from the room, but she stopped him. "No kiss good-bye?"

He turned. She looked enchanting, sitting there on the edge of the bed with only the sheets for clothes and her hair curling down around her shoulders.

"Of course there is a kiss," he said, and he dropped one on her lips. He dared not linger because, if he did, he would make love to her. He wanted to. His favorite time to have her was when she was all warm and relaxed from a night's sleep.

He left the room.

A half hour later, his bride joined him for breakfast. She wore the green dress she was married in, and she carried her bonnet. "It's the worse for wear," she said, holding the hat up for him to see what a disaster it was.

Colin shrugged. He didn't care about clothing. Not right now.

Over breakfast, she seemed to lack an appetite. Colin wasn't hungry himself. Women were fickle. Belinda had taught him they could be one way one moment, and another in the next. And what did he really know about Rosalyn? The past few days, they'd barely talked. They'd had more intriguing ways to pass their time.

Oscar was harnessed to the phaeton and was waiting for them when they finished eating. Colin tossed the stable lad a coin, while Rosalyn put on her hat and tied the ribbons into a saucy bow that belied the crooked brim. Offering his hand, he helped her up into the seat and took his place. With a snap of the whip, they were off.

The day was perfect for a drive, and they would have enjoyed themselves... except for the subtle tension between them. They were too polite to each other. Too considerate.

Nor did Rosalyn touch him with the easy familiarity she'd had up in their room at the inn. He sensed she was trying not to have contact with him. The vehicle's seat was short and narrow, and yet she placed as much space as possible between them.

At least twice Colin almost said something and then backed away. He wasn't the one who had gotten up in the middle of the night or seemed distant this morning, and he'd be damned before he let her know her quietness bothered him.

The drive was uneventful and miserable.

Half an hour away from Maiden Hill, they heard the bay of the hounds in the distance.

Rosalyn broke the interminable silence that had fallen between them. "Lord Loftus is on the hunt again," she observed, her voice sounding as if she was relieved to finally have a topic of conversation.

"Yes." Colin forced a smile. "The man is mad for it."

"He thinks of little else all year round." She didn't look at him but watched a yeoman's son and a pretty young lass walk past them on the side of the road. Their shy, budding affection for each other was obvious. They must have stolen a few moments away from their chores to be together.

Rosalyn smiled at them-and Colin felt a pang of jealousy.

"The hunt hardly qualifies as sport the way he plays it," Colin said, a trace of the bitterness he was feeling in his voice. It was going to happen again. He saw that now. He was going to give Rosalyn his heart and, like Belinda, she would use it for her own purposes.

Damn, but he was snared in a trap of his own making, only this time, he couldn't run away. Worse, he was starting to fall in love...

The direction of his thoughts shocked him. Here, on the road on a lovely spring afternoon, the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning- he was falling in love.

Stunned and horrified, Colin pulled on the reins. Oscar halted but looked back to see what his master was about. After all, he'd stopped the horse in the middle of nowhere, and Oscar was wise enough to know this was not normal.

"Colin, is something wrong?"

Oh, yes, something was very wrong, but he'd not tell her that.

"Your expression is so strange," she said. "Are you taking ill?"

With the worst malady in the world! He stared into her gray-green eyes and couldn't decide if he saw a stranger or a lover. The hounds sounded closer, their abandoned howls emphasizing exactly how afraid he was.

Yes, he was scared, frightened out of his wits. What man shouldn't be, when confronted by love?

Oscar spooked, his abrupt movement sending a shake all the way through the phaeton. Colin had to give his attention to the reins even as the reason for the horse's skittish behavior was revealed. The fox crawled out from the thicket by the side of the road. Oscar had sensed he was there, only this wasn't the wily, bold creature Colin had first met.

No, this time, the animal had been run to ground. He was tired. His tongue hung out, and he panted from the exertion of escaping the chase.

He glanced up at the horse as if just realizing Oscar's presence, and then he dropped, too exhausted to go on.

The hounds sounded closer. Colin could hear them crashing through the woods. Loftus was shouting them on, berating them to find him the fox-and Colin knew what he had to do.

He jumped down from his perch on the phaeton and, without a moment's hesitation, scooped the fox up by the nape of the neck. He climbed back up into his seat, settling the beaten animal between himself and Rosalyn.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "You can't take a wild creature like this with us."

"Watch me," he said, and then thought enough to add, "hold on," before cracking the tip of the whip on Oscar's rump.

They took off like a shot, racing toward Maiden Hill.

Chapter Thirteen.

Rosalyn held on to the side bar of the phaeton for dear life. Colin was driving so fast that it seemed as if they were flying across the ground. When they took a curve on one wheel, she feared being thrown from the vehicle.

And then there was the matter of the beast on the seat between them. Whoever heard of picking up a fox?

Her bonnet blew off her head. Only the ribbons held it around her neck. The pins flew from her hair. Her husband didn't care. He drove like a man possessed.

They careened off the road onto the drive leading to Maiden Hill. Then, and only then, did Colin make

any attempt to slow down.

Rosalyn sat up. Her hair was a mess. She yanked at what was left of the bow around her neck and removed her bonnet. The poor hat. It had started the journey as her most fashionable article of clothing and ended it looking like a battered rag.

The fox recovered and sat up between them. He acted as if riding beside Colin was the most natural thing in the world.

"What do you think you are doing?" Rosalyn asked.

Colin lifted a quizzical eyebrow. "Cooling down Oscar before I let you off at the front door."

"No, I mean about the fox."

Her husband looked down at the creature, and she swore the animal looked up at him and smiled. "I'm not going to do anything," Colin said.

"You can't have a fox at Maiden Hill," she explained carefully. "Especially this one. This is the fox Lord

Loftus has been hunting all season, and if he ever finds out you stole it from him-""You can't steal something that doesn't belong to a person in the first place. He can't stake a claim on afox. Nor will he find out," Colin said firmly. "Unless you tell him."

"I won't tell him, but, Colin, this is a wild creature. It's not a pet."

"I know that, Rosalyn." He glanced at his furry mate and said, "But I couldn't leave him back there to be ripped apart by the dogs while Loftus laughed with glee."

Immediately, she felt contrite. "Oh, Colin, I know. Fox hunting is far from sporting... but what are we

going to do with a fox?"

"He can live at Maiden Hill."

"Live at Maiden Hill? A fox?"

Her husband nodded, growing pleased with the idea. "Of course. He'll be safe there."

"Yes, but will we?" she wondered.

"Why would we not? He's just a little fox. The only time they are a nuisance is around chickens. We don't have chickens, do we?""No, but we have ducks and geese. And think of our neighbors. They have chickens. Colin, what will we do if the fox gets into the neighbor's henhouse?""He won't. Rosalyn, look at him. He's as docile as a dog, and more intelligent."The fox did seem that way. He'd been listening to them argue, his bright eyes going from one to the other."But he isn't a pet." Her protests were growing weaker."You are right. He deserves his freedom." They'd arrived at Maiden Hill's front door. He reined Oscar to a halt. "He's fought so hard to elude Loftus," he said to Rosalyn. "He was outnumbered, and yet he's