“You're not overcome now?” she asked with a disbelieving expression. It wasn't very difficult to feel the imprint of his desire on her hip.

Robert laughed against the underside of her chin. “I'm going to enjoy being married to you, Torie.”

“I-I suppose that is a good reason to propose,” she gasped, trying to ignore the spasms of pleasure he was stirring within her.

“Mmmm, yes.” He moved back to her mouth and kissed her deeply, teasing her until she was quivering beneath him. Then, abruptly, he rolled off her and onto his feet. “I'd better stop now,” he said with a wicked smile, “for in another moment I won't be able to.”

Victoria wanted to shout out that she didn't care, but she contented herself with tossing a pillow at him instead.

“I wouldn't want to compromise you any further,” Robert continued, easily dodging her attack. “And I wanted to remind you of”—he leaned down and dropped one last kiss on her mouth—”this. Just in case you were having second thoughts.”

“I'm having them now” she retorted, certain that she looked just as frustrated as she felt.

Robert laughed as he crossed the room. “I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that my little reminder has left me feeling every bit as uncomfortable and unfulfilled as you.”

“I'm perfectly fine,” she said, lifting her chin in the air.

“Yes, of course you are,” he teased as he reached into the traveling case he'd left carelessly on the desk. Victoria was about to let out a stinging retort when his countenance turned quite black and he let out a loud “Damn!”

“Is something amiss?” she asked.

His head whipped up to face her. “Have you been in this bag?”

“No, of course not, I wouldn't—” She colored as she remembered that she'd been looking through his things. “Well, actually I would snoop in your belongings, I admit, but I found the tub before I found your case.”

“I don't care if you want to pull up the floorboards,” he said distractedly. “What's mine is yours. But I had important papers in this case, and now they're gone.”

A unexpected bubble of mirth welled up in Victoria's chest. “What sort of papers?” she asked carefully.

Robert let out another low curse before replying, “The special license.”

Victoria had a feeling that it wasn't an appropriate time to burst into loud and raucous laughter, but she did so anyway.

Robert planted his hands on his hips as he turned to face her. “This is not funny.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, not sounding particularly apologetic. “It is simply that you— Oh, my!” Victoria collapsed into another round of giggles.

“It must be in my other case,” Robert said. “Damn.”

Victoria wiped her eyes. “Where is your other case?”

“London.”

“I see.”

“We'll have to leave within the hour.”

Her mouth fell open. “Leave for London? Right now?”

“I don't see any other option.”

“But how will we get there?”

“MacDougal stabled my carriage just a quarter mile away before leaving for London. The local squire has always been most accommodating. I'm sure he can spare a groom to drive us back.”

“You let me believe that I was stranded here?” she yelled.

“You never asked,” he said, shrugging. “Now then, I suggest you get dressed. As delightful as you are in your current attire, there is a slight chill in the air.”

She held the bed sheets tightly against her body. “My dress is in the next room.”

“You're going to be modest now?”

Her mouth twisted into an offended frown. “I'm sorry I can't be as cosmopolitan as you are, Robert. I don't have much experience with this sort of thing.”

He smiled and dropped an affectionate kiss on her forehead. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're simply too much fun to tease. I'll get your dress right away. And,” he added as he opened the door, “I shall leave you to your privacy to change into it.”

Thirty minutes later they were on their way to London. Robert was having a difficult time keeping himself from breaking out into song. On his way back from retrieving the carriage, he had actually belted out a rather off-key version of Handel's “Hallelujah Chorus.” He probably would have finished the piece if the horses hadn't whinnied in aural agony. Robert quieted down, thinking it best not to offer similar torture to his betrothed's ears—his betrothed! He loved saying that. Hell, he loved just thinking it.

Still, his happiness was so great that he couldn't quite keep it all inside, and thus, every so often he forgot himself, and then he'd realize he was whistling.

“I didn't know you liked to whistle,” Victoria said after about the fifth time he caught himself.

“I certainly cannot sing,” he replied. “So I whistle.”

“I don't think I've heard you whistling in—” She paused and thought. “I can't remember the last time.”

He grinned. “I haven't been this happy in a great many years.”

A pause, and then she said, “Oh.” She looked ridiculously pleased, and Robert felt ridiculously pleased that she looked that way. He whistled atonally for another few minutes, and then he looked up and said, “Do you realize how wonderful it is to feel spontaneous again?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“When I first met you, we used to run through the woods at midnight. We were wild and carefree.”

“It was lovely,” Victoria said softly.