Bradford didn't react to her comment. He merely took hold of her hand and led her to the center of the ballroom. It was time to begin the dancing.

The rest of the evening was a blur to Caroline. She kept wishing for just a few minutes alone, just enough time to think one coherent thought, to catch her breath, but Bradford never left her side. And then it was time to go upstairs.

Charity assisted her. She had grown quiet and Caroline was thankful for it. Only after her bath was completed and she was dressed in a transparent white nightgown did Charity whisper the question that had been worrying her. "Do you understand what will happen, Caroline? Did Mama explain what a husband and wife do together?"

Caroline shook her head. "Mama would have fainted after the first sentence," she said.

Charity looked crestfallen. "Oh, then I'll have to wait until the next time I see you to find out exactly."

"Charity! Don't make me more nervous! Oh, why do we have to spend the night here?" she groaned. She thought about what was going to happen and then pictured facing everyone tomorrow. "They'll all know," she whispered.

"Don't be nervous," Charity stated. "If you laugh while… well, you know, then I think Bradford will become angry."

Before Caroline could comment, Charity hugged her and took her leave. "I'll pray for you," she whispered before closing the door.

Caroline stood in the center of the bedroom and waited. She thought about getting into bed but decided that hiding under the covers wouldn't do at all. Bradford might find that humorous, and she would die if he laughed at her.

The connecting door to Bradford's bedroom opened and he was suddenly standing there.

Bradford leaned against the doorway and looked at his wife. "She was so breathtakingly beautiful that his breath caught in his throat. The seductive gown Caroline wore left little to the imagination, and Bradford took his time admiring her long shapely legs, slender hips, and full breasts.

Caroline returned her husband's gaze. He had removed his jacket and his cravat and his hair fell forward, softening his features. His expression was guarded, and Caroline found him both irresistibly handsome and frightening. She wasn't nervous anymore, only terrified. She wished she hadn't cut her hair, thinking that the length of it might have covered part of her breasts. Would it be childish of her to grab the comforter from the bed and wrap it around herself?

She shivered and wasn't sure if it was because of the chill in the bedroom or her husband's intense scrutiny.

"Charity's praying for me," she heard herself say. Her voice was little more than a weak whisper, but she knew he heard her because his eyebrow lifted a fraction. And then he smiled, and Caroline wasn't terrified anymore.

She turned, trying to remember what she had done with her robe, when Bradford finally found his voice. "Don't be afraid, Caroline." He started walking toward her, his gaze tender.

"I'm not afraid, only freezing," Caroline returned. She tried to smile while she rubbed her arms. She was shaking now and couldn't seem to stop.

Bradford put his arms around her and hugged her. "Better?" he asked, his voice husky.

Caroline nodded. "You have a beautiful home, Bradford, but it's so cold," she whispered against his chest. "And drafty," she added when Bradford lifted her into his arms and started toward his room. "The fireplaces don't give sufficient heat." Lord, even as she blurted out the words, she wished she could stop herself. What was the matter with her? Caroline closed her mouth and determined not to say another word.

Bradford shut the door behind him, locked it, and then carried Caroline over to the bed. The covers on the gigantic four-poster were drawn back and Bradford placed her in the center. As soon as he released her, Caroline started trembling again.

"You'll be warm in a minute, love," Bradford promised. There was amusement in his voice and his eyes, and Caroline knew he was smiling because he thought she was shivering over what was about to happen. She gave him what she hoped was a disgruntled look. He definitely had the upper hand right now, and Caroline felt completely helpless. She thought, as she watched her husband divest himself of his shoes and shirt, that if she could just stop staring at him, she might be able to find a way to gain a little control. He was sitting on the side of the bed and Caroline wanted to reach out and touch him.

She remembered how his kisses had inflamed her in the past and how she had never wanted the touching to stop, and just thinking those thoughts released some of the fright.

Bradford stood up, started to take his breeches off, and then hesitated. He turned, giving Caroline a full view of his powerful chest. Curly black hair covered the sinewy strength. Caroline knew she stared, but couldn't help herself.

"You remind me of a Spartan warrior, did you know that?" Caroline blurted out. She noticed the scar right above his waistline then and asked, "Did you get that in a battle?"

"A brawl," Bradford corrected. He smiled and sat back down on the bed. He decided to leave his breeches on for the time being, out of deference for his innocent wife's feelings. She was as skittish as a new foal and he didn't want to frighten her any more than she already was. "Milford has an identical scar, although his is on the left side. Tokens of our first night on the other side of town."

"I'll have to ask him to show it to me," Caroline commented with a sparkle in her eyes. She was relaxing with the easy banter between them. Bradford acted as if he had all the time in the world, and the initial panic that had overtaken Caroline now receded. She felt almost in control again.

"You'll do no such thing," Bradford answered, his voice a low growl. "Best friend or not, he'd probably rip his clothes off with your first suggestion."

"You don't trust Milford?" Caroline's voice sounded incredulous.

Bradford didn't answer her. He was having enough difficulty trying to follow the conversation. His loins ached and all he could think about was taking his wife into his arms.

"I think I should warn you, Bradford…" Caroline began. She couldn't look at him and lowered her gaze to stare at her hands.

Bradford frowned, wondering over the serious tone in her voice. He reached out, cupped the sides of her face with his hands, and forced her to look at him.

"I'm not completely certain about the procedure… I'm not at all sure what I'm supposed to do."

Bradford nodded, trying his damnedest to keep his expression solemn. "I didn't expect you to be experienced," he said.

Caroline continued to look at him, her expression serious, but Bradford noticed that special sparkle was back. "I assume that you do know what to do?"

Bradford slowly nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and Caroline added, "I thought that you did, but you're just sitting there and you still have your breeches on and even I know that it's a necessary requirement to have them off."

He didn't answer her, but he did take her into his arms. He stretched out, taking her with him, and lowered his hands to her hips, pulling her firmly against him. "I thought to keep my pants on out of consideration for your innocent feelings."

"I don't think it will work," Caroline whispered against his neck.

Bradford began to stroke Caroline's back and nudged her head aside with his jaw so that he could place soft kisses on her neck. "What? My considerations or my pants?"

Caroline started to answer but his warm breath against her ear made her lose her train of thought. "You're making me warm," she whispered instead.

"Not good enough," Bradford told her. He rolled her over onto her back and covered her with his body.

"I want you hot, Caroline. So hot that your body glistens from the heat." His mouth covered hers then, in a kiss that promised fulfillment of his demand.