A Promise of Tomorrow

by Aston, Alexa

  Maude chuckled. “Oh, dearie, you’re a young one. I can tell you from experience, though, ain’t a man ever known he’s in love before the woman knows. Men fool themselves and lie to their hearts, but the feelings? They’re inside them, all the same.”

  The tiny woman stood. “Let’s dry your tears and get you some hot water to freshen up. John will be here soon with the eels and I’ll have my hands full then.”

  She led Marielle up a stairway and to a chamber done in shades of blue. “Have a little cry if you must then banish the tears away, child. The time for sorrow is over. You’re with Ashby now. He’ll be good to you.”

  She turned to go but Marielle caught her hand. The servant turned back. “Maude,” she said, her voice just above a whisper, “I think I fell in love with him the moment I saw him.”

  “Most women do,” Maude replied, “but you’re something special. I saw it . . . in his eyes.”

  Marielle sought some reassurance. “Was it wrong of me? I was still married.”

  “Not happily, I fear. If you were, no one—not even my sweetest Ashby—could have turned your head.”

  She nodded. “You are right. It was a loveless union. And now that Jean-Paul is dead . . .” Her voice trailed off, her future still so uncertain.

  Maude patted her hand. “You must give things time. Give your soul time to heal. Give time for my boy to come around and acknowledge his feelings for you.” Maude grinned. “He will—or I’ll blister his arse but good.”

  Marielle laughed. Already England seemed like home but, then again, anywhere she was with Ashby would be so.

  *

  “That just about does it, Maude.” Ashby took the servant into his arms and held her tightly. He loved the old woman, despite her bossy ways. She spoke to him and Garrett like no other, not even Madeleine. She’d had her hand in raising them and Ashby was the better for it.

  He released her. “I will tell Marielle we are ready to leave for Stanbury.”

  “Not just yet,” the servant cautioned.

  Ashby frowned, wondering what Maude was up to.

  “You can wipe that puzzled look off your face, Ashby fitz Waryn. We’re going to talk before you leave.”

  “But Marielle—”

  “She’ll wait. I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me.”

  To emphasize her point, Maude began tapping her foot. He knew from experience the gesture was not a good sign of what lay ahead.

  “I haven’t avoided you, Maude. Naturally, I attended to much business these past few days. Still, I have done justice to every meal you cooked. We sat around the fire and talked each night. We—”

  “It’s that we you keep mentioning. You haven’t spent a moment alone with me.”

  Ashby laughed. “Come, Maude. You shouldn’t pout. I never dreamed you would be jealous of Marielle.”

  “Should I be?” She stared at him intently.

  “No,” he said lightly. “You will always be my number one lady, Maude. No others come close.”

  She frowned. “That’s not the answer I want from you.”

  Ashby grew serious. “What answer do you need?”

  Maude gestured for him to sit. He did so. Reluctantly.

  “You’re in love with that girl, Ashby fitz Waryn.”

  Immediately, he shot to his feet.

  “Sit back down, Master Ashby. I’ll say my piece and you’ll be civil while I do so.” Her glare was enough to take him twenty years back. He sat as told.

  “I don’t know if there’s anything’s between you. I haven’t seen sight of it but I sensed it from the moment you came in together.”

  Maude sighed. “It’s your happiness I want. I see you look with envy at Master Garrett now. You’re ready for a wife and family, my boy. It’s time for you to settle down.”

  Ashby stared at her. In a flat voice he said, “And you judge Marielle to be the woman I should settle down with.”

  “No. You’re the one who’s chosen her,” Maude said quietly. “I’ve come to know her well in the time we’ve spent together. I see what’s so special about her. You see it, too. There’s a spark between the two of you. You belong together. Don’t walk away from love, Boy.” She gazed at him steadily. “I did once. My life was never the same.”

  Ashby looked at Maude with new eyes. He wondered about the mistake that she must have made, years and years ago, one which she obviously still grieved over.

  She was right—yet he refused to heed her words. He had nothing to offer Marielle but love. It wouldn’t be enough. It was enough that he safely removed her from France. He would entrust her into Garrett and Madeleine’s care. That was all he could give her.

  Yet to silence Maude, he said, “I will think upon your words, Maude. Marielle is a fine woman. Mayhap when she has done with her mourning, there could be a future for us.”

  “God’s teeth!” proclaimed Maude sharply. “You still think you can look me bald in the face and lie through that winsome smile of yours?” She spat upon the ground in disgust. “You haven’t learned a thing. If you weren’t so big, I’d turn you over my knee right now and paddle your arse black and blue.”

  She stood, arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll smile and make nice in front of Marielle. I won’t embarrass her or you when we say our goodbyes. But I won’t have a civil word for you in the future if you don’t marry that girl.”

  With that, Maude flounced off, her shoulders squared. Ashby was surprised no steam rose from her, so heated were the words she’d spoken.

  “Ah, she’s been mad at me before,” he reassured himself aloud. “She will get over it.”

  He went to fetch Marielle to set out for their trip to Stanbury but his heart was heavy.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “There. In the distance. That’s Stanbury.”

  Marielle heard the pride in Ashby’s voice as she turned to view the Montayne estate. It was breathtaking. She couldn’t imagine living in so grand a castle.

  Ashby spurred Lightning on. She sensed his eagerness at returning home. She envied him the feeling. She’d never had strong ties nor fond memories to anywhere she lived. The convent had no sense of family within its cold walls. By the time she returned to her parents’ home, she possessed few clear recollections of it. With all her brothers and sisters gone, it did not seem like a place she belonged.

  And Monteville? The chateau had never been welcoming. She’d experienced nothing but isolation and loneliness there and she’d never seemed to fit in. She became a caged bird taken out on occasion for Jean-Paul’s pleasure. She had no friends within its walls and had certainly never been a true chatelaine of the castle in any real sense while living there.

  What did her future hold? What lay in store for her at Stanbury? How would she be treated? Panicked, Marielle suddenly wondered what they knew of her.

  “Ashby?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do Lord and Lady Montayne know I am coming? Do they know my circumstances? I cannot believe I just now thought to ask this, and here we are, practically upon their doorstep.”

  He laughed, the rich sound that she’d grown to love. “I sent a messenger ahead, Marielle. I will let you choose what you wish to reveal to them. All my missive said is that I was bringing a visitor from Bordeaux and to prepare a bedchamber.”

  Her belly knotted. Her idyllic time with Ashby was about to end. She’d enjoyed the evenings in London after he returned from business. They would dine on Maude’s heavenly meals and then talk far into the night. She dreamed of them as a couple, longing for his companionship.

  And love.

  Yet there’d been no walks in the moonlight. No stolen kisses in the shadows. He’d not acted in a loving manner toward her since they set foot in England. Kind, yes. Solicitous? Always. But he’d shown none of the fire of desire since they’d left France. It was as if he banked it, holding at bay the dizzying emotions from before. Must he seek Garrett and Madeleine’s approval first? She knew Ashby’s attachment toward them ran
deep. As a knight in service to Lord Montayne, would he be obligated to seek their permission before pressing his suit regarding her? Is that how custom ran in England?

  Or had she read more into his actions than she should have? She’d set out with two plans in mind. She knew she could always go to Sisters of Merciful Heart for sanctuary but instead she’d followed her heart—and the more dangerous course—by first reaching out to Ashby for help. Since he so willingly committed to aiding her, and because she was now widowed, she assumed he would take care of her. By wedding her.

  Had she been wrong about him?

  Now, she would be among strangers while he would be surrounded by those he cherished. He was coming home, whereas she was being set adrift. The thought frightened her so much that she began to tremble.

  Ashby slowed and then halted his horse. “What ails you, Marielle? You are shivering.” He pulled her cloak more tightly about her and pulled her against him, his warmth enveloping her, soothing her.

  “You have nothing to fear. Garrett and Madeleine will welcome you with open arms. They are the two most generous people I know. You will be safe, Marielle. Marc is but a bad memory that will grow more distant as time passes.”

  She wished she could stay with him forever this way. Why did they have to go to Stanbury? She would be watched and weighed. Everyone there would judge her. See if she were good enough to be a part of Ashby’s life. Worse, she was beyond frightened because she dreaded meeting Madeleine, the Countess of Montayne. Ashby spoke so highly of the countess. Marielle knew she could never live up to such an ideal woman. Why even bother?

  The worst thing was that she had no control at this point. She might as well make the best of the situation and put on a brave face.

  “I’ll admit to a few qualms. I am a bit nervous when I meet new people. I will be fine.”

  “Of course you will,” he murmured in her ear, sending chills through her. “That’s my girl.” He urged on his horse again. Within minutes, they reached their destination.

  He called a greeting to the watchtower as the drawbridge lowered. They entered the outer bailey to cheers from every direction. Marielle saw the smiles around them. It was obvious Ashby was much-beloved at Stanbury. He cantered along, waving, shouting salutations coming from the left and right.

  “Almost there,” he told her. They entered the inner bailey. Marielle spied several people waving from the top steps. A young girl came galloping down those stone steps, followed by several others at a leisurely pace.

  “Ashby! Ashby!” the girl called.

  He sprang from the horse and quickly pulled Marielle down. He turned as the girl leaped into his arms.

  “You are finally home,” she cried. “I have missed you ever so much.”

  “And I you, Lyssa, even more so.”

  She pursed her lips. “You are just saying that. Madeleine says you always tell every female that, be she young or old.”

  Lyssa turned, her arms still locked around Ashby’s neck. “Who have you brought home? Papa said there would be a visitor.”

  Marielle sensed a sneeze coming on. No, not now! Not when she was about to be presented to the Montaynes.

  Yet out it came, a single one, but one she judged to be among the loudest in her lifetime. She winced and smiled sheepishly, her eyes now watery.

  The girl studied Marielle a moment, her head cocked as she inspected her. “She is very pretty, Ashby. I think she is as pretty as Madeleine. But she will have to work on her sneezes. They will frighten poor Luke up a tree.”

  “Forgive my daughter’s impertinence,” a nearby voice said.

  Marielle turned. “You must be Lord Montayne.” She curtsied to him. “I am Marielle . . . Matesse.”

  “I am happy to make your acquaintance, my lady. Any friend of Ashby’s is a friend to us all. Please, call me Garrett.”

  He turned and took a woman’s elbow. “I would like to present to you my wife and son. This is Madeleine and Cynric. I am sorry the aforementioned Luke is unavailable to greet you as well. He no doubt lingers in the stables, finding plump mice for his supper tonight, though I doubt he would share—even with company.”

  Marielle was unnerved by Lord Montayne’s glibness. She’d just begun to realize that Luke must be a cat. Marielle gathered her wits and her manners about her as well as her English skills and said to the woman, “It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Lady Montayne. Ashby has spoken often of you.” Marielle was surprised at how calm she sounded, for her heart pounded rapidly.

  Madeleine moved to greet her. The mistress of Stanbury was stunningly beautiful. She was very tall, almost as tall as her husband. Marielle didn’t know women could be that tall. Madeleine’s hair was the color of sun on summer wheat. Her eyes sparkled with good humor and patience. A small scar on her cheek was her only flaw, yet it did not detract from her considerable beauty.

  “A great pleasure to meet you, Marielle. Your English is remarkable.”

  Marielle blushed at the compliment. “Sisters of Merciful Heart insisted language was the key to peace. I speak four of them but I am self-conscious about it. I rarely get enough practice in any of them.”

  Madeleine laughed, a husky sound. Her smile was genuine, lighting her face. “Mayhap you can help me. I am trying to teach Lyssa and Cynric French. You never know when it will come in handy.”

  Cynric buried his head in his mother’s shoulder. “Oh, you devil,” his mother cooed. “So, you play shy with Marielle?” She looked at her son with love and back to Marielle. “Do not let him fool you. He will lull you into thinking he’s something he’s not.”

  Madeleine bent and set Cynric down. With a spontaneity that surprised Marielle, Madeleine stepped to her and gave her a warm embrace and kissed her on both cheeks.

  “I am so glad to have you here, Marielle. I cannot wait to hear about France. Although I love England, I find I do miss Bordeaux at times.”

  All Marielle’s misgivings were dispelled in that moment. “It’s wonderful to be here. I will catch you up on all the news of the neighborhood.”

  Madeleine looked at her quizzically. “The neighborhood?”

  “Yes,” she replied enthusiastically. “I know your parents. Cadena and Robert.”

  “Mon Dieu!” Madeleine’s eyes filled with tears. She squeezed Marielle tightly and then flung her arms about Ashby as he handed Marielle her satchel.

  “Oh, Ashby, you have brought me a treasure from heaven.” She kissed his cheek and looked to her husband. “Marielle knows my parents!” she exclaimed.

  Madeleine linked her arm through Marielle’s. “We will leave you gentlemen to attend to your own business. We have much to discuss and I am sure poor Marielle is tired after that long ride.”

  “What about me, Madeleine?” Lyssa piped up. “I am not a gentleman.”

  Marielle noted the fond smile Madeleine gave the girl. “I will leave you in charge of the men, Lyssa. See that they behave properly, as gentlemen should.”

  “I want to help Ashby rub down Lightning.”

  Garrett laughed. “The child is mad for horses, Marielle. Ash encourages her in this.” He ruffled Lyssa’s hair affectionately. “We’ll go down to the stables and keep Ash company while he tends to Lightning.”

  Garrett swung Cynric upon his shoulders. The boy squealed with delight. Marielle watched Ashby do the same with Lyssa as he took his reins in hand. The four of them began walking toward the stable, Lightning in tow behind them.

  “Let’s get you a hot bath, Marielle. I know how dusty that road from London can be.” She gave her instructions to a servant and then led Marielle into the castle.

  “You have a lovely home, Madeleine.” She looked about her at the tasteful furnishings. Stanbury seemed much more a home than Monteville. It had a lived-in look, very comfortable and yet elegant.

  “Come, we shall go to your chamber. I can help you unpack.”

  Marielle fidgeted. “I only have this small bag of books. I left France . . . rather abruptly.”


  Madeleine eyed her wisely. “I understand. When I fled my husband, I carried my beloved lute and a change of clothing. I did not want to be slowed in any way.”

  “My husband is dead,” Marielle said quickly.

  “Yet you felt the need to leave France.” It was a statement, not a question.

  She made an instant decision due to her rapport with Madeleine. She would tell the countess the truth. She could not enjoy her hospitality otherwise.

  Madeleine opened the door to a chamber that was light and airy. Fruit sat on a platter. Next to it was a bottle of wine. Marielle suddenly realized how parched she was.

  “Let me pour you a glass,” Madeleine told her. “Then I shall leave you to bathe and rest a bit.”

  She poured a glass and handed it to Marielle. “The hot water should be here soon. Is there anything else I can get for you? Maybe later we can chat about Chateau Branais. I so long to hear about news from home.”

  “Please. Share a glass of wine with me. I want us to talk . . . about why I am in England.”

  Madeleine studied her. “Marielle, it’s enough that Ashby brought you to us. You are his friend. We offer our friendship, as well. You are not obligated to tell us anything. We are comfortable starting from today. If need be, leave your yesterdays behind you.”

  Marielle’s eyes filled with tears at such open acceptance. “He told me how generous you would be. I found it hard to believe that someone could accept a stranger so totally, no questions asked.”

  “That is our way,” Madeleine said gently. “I, too, once was troubled. I had nowhere to turn. Stanbury proved a refuge for me.” She smiled wistfully. “That was long ago. I do not often think of those times. When I do, I realize how fortunate I am to be with Garrett now, to have our children and our home and family and friends.

  “Love saved me, Marielle.” Her steady gaze pierced Marielle’s soul. “It will save you, too.”

  A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Servants brought in buckets of hot water, filling the tub, setting out soap and towels. Madeleine thanked them and shooed them away. She poured liquid from a vial into the water. Marielle caught a whiff of roses as her hostess stirred her hand in the water.