The Duke's Bride: Regency Romance (Regency Brides Book 1)

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “Ellie Marie!” Ashten pounded after her.

  She skidded into the main room, rather unladylike, then brushed her pale pink skirts and straightened her lacy wrap. Wooden screens separated the central tables where travelers partook of the hearty stew and jugs of ale. Soft conversation filled the roomy space, the latticed windows overlooking the surrounding trees and fields of lush grass bathed in moonlight. The meandering length of the river which snaked through the land reflected the twinkling of stars. Ordinarily, she enjoyed stopping here while traveling to Winterly Manor, this inn within the boundary of Ashten’s duchy, but tonight anxiety alone consumed her. Ashten had gotten down on one knee and proposed to her, one of her secret desires finally realized, only his proposal had not only come too late, but had also come from the forcing of his hand. She charged across to Tidmore seated in a corner booth, three bowls of mutton stew already on the table and the hearty aroma of the meat wafting to her. She smiled gallantly. “That smells divine.”

  “The Duke of Ashten is right behind you and appears rather mad.” Tidmore stood and offered her the seat next to his, his next words whispered in her ear, “Is he all right?”

  “No, he’s still quite angry about my decision to elope with you, but pay no heed to him. I simply frustrate him, immensely, and I likely always will.” She sat as Ashten clomped toward them.

  “Our discussion is not over,” Ashten blasted as he flipped the tails of his deep blue jacket and dropped into the seat across from her.

  “How about we all put our frustrations aside and simply enjoy this meal?” Tidmore offered as he too returned to his seat.

  “The only concession I will make right now is to have your agreement that I accompany you both to Gretna Green.” Ashten continued to glare at Tidmore. “Surely you can’t deny that Lady Ellie requires a chaperone for the remainder of her trip, and I am her brother’s dearest friend and have known her since she the day she was born. I can act as a suitable chaperone.”

  “Ashten!” She wasn’t having that. He wasn’t suitable, not in the least. “We’ve already ridden this far without a chaperone, and I don’t—”

  “Good, it’s settled then. I’ll ride with you and your betrothed. Gorman and I will be your witnesses when you speak vows. You do need two witnesses, in case you weren’t aware.” He shoved the basket of bread in the center of the table under her nose. “Care for some bread, my wee daisy.”

  “No, thank you, and I am not your wee daisy.” Yet she snatched the bread, tore a hunk off and jabbed it into her stew. She bit into one end then moaned at the delicious juices trickling over her tongue. “Oh my, this is very tasty stew. Maggie has outdone herself tonight.”

  “Maggie does make the finest mutton stew in all of England.” Ashten spooned a mouthful between his lips and moaned too. “I missed breakfast and luncheon, so I do apologize if I act the hog right now.”

  “Then we shall both be hogs together for this is the first meal I’ve partaken of all day as well.” Ellie couldn’t suppress her giggle, her anger at Ashten sliding swiftly away, as it always had in the past after he’d riled her. He could charm her with one single word and this time it had been “hog.” She truly did adore him. He was here because of his worry for her, which she couldn’t fault him for, terribly misplaced proposal and all. She reached across the table and touched his arm. “I’m sorry for saying I hate you.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  “You’re supposed to apologize too.” She kicked him under the table and he grunted.

  “I apologize, and I believe I’ll leave it at that. I’ve no wish to get myself into any more trouble tonight.”

  Tidmore chuckled as he glanced between the two of them. “This all sounds suspiciously as if you two just made up?”

  “We have.” She motioned to Tidmore’s legs. “Which leg do you favor for future kicks?”

  “None, my dear lady. I never intend to get your gander up as Ashten has done.”

  Chapter 21

  In the early hours of the following morning, the dawn sun having just arisen, Ellie tried to block out the sliver of annoying sunshine streaming through the gap in the curtains over the coach window she sat beside. Tidmore and Gorman slept across from her, their heads propped against the backrest of the coach, their eyes closed and chests rising slowly but surely. Beside her, Ashten sat with his eyes open, staring straight ahead, just as he’d done each time she’d peeked at him during the night.

  Slowly, he turned his gaze on her, then said not a word as long minutes passed. Such sorrow fisted her heart and wouldn’t abate. Why couldn’t she have just said yes to Ashten’s proposal and not worry over why he’d issued it? Hmm, that’s right. Because she didn’t wish to take advantage of him. Keeping him for herself would have been selfish.

  Breaking their eye contact, she leaned her head against the side of the coach and closed her eyes. All her life she’d always been able to rely on Ashten, just as she had with Harry. He’d even saved her the day he’d dived into the river and held onto her until they’d neared the shallows farther downstream. He’d always been a huge part of her life, and she couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t be around if she absolutely needed him.

  “We’ve butted heads often over the years.” Whispered words in her ear, Ashten having moved closer, although she kept her eyes closed. Gently, he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers soft against her skin and his voice lowering further as he said, “I’m certain we always will.”

  She remained quiet. Answering him wouldn’t be helpful.

  “You and I have always belonged together, and I wish I’d seen that sooner.” He grazed a knuckle across her cheek. “It scares me to think I might not be able to convince you of my sincerity in time. Yet I have every reason to fight for you, and mark my words, I shall.”

  Goodness, but this man could capture her heart with his words when he wished to. Still, she kept her eyes closed and her resolve firm.

  “I can’t return to London without you, Ellie, or go on as I did before. I need to be able to hold you close, to be surrounded by you and your family. I never wish to let you go, and it’s beyond time that I finally followed my heart and accepted the truth between us.”

  Oh, he was laying on the charm now. She also knew the truth, and it wasn’t what he’d just said. Clearly, he’d dug in his heels, his determination to change her mind, intense.

  “I wish to seek out adventures with you, to always be at your side and for you to be at mine, for every day that’s to come. I wish to raise a family with you, to give you children and your mama grandchildren.”

  She needed to remain strong and not allow him to sway her mind. She had her family to think about, Thomas Tidmore too, and she’d given her word to Thomas that she’d speak vows with him. Never had she gone against her word before, and she didn’t intend on starting now. Yes, because to do anything else, would be to place her family in a terrible position.

  She drifted toward sleep, Ashten’s soft lips brushing the top of her head, his touch soothing her as nothing else ever would.

  Damn the man.

  Chapter 22

  The snorting of horses echoed within Ellie’s head first, then as she stirred, she sensed the absolute quiet and cessation of movement. The coach had come to a complete stop at some point and she stretched and pushed her eyes open. Her slippered feet, now tucked under a blue and white patchwork blanket, were propped on the bench seat and she lay sprawled across it with no one else about.

  Gritty eyed, she balled her fists and rubbed them until she’d worked the crusted sleep free. The warmth of the late afternoon sunshine seeped in through the open coach door, along with the delightful pine freshness of the forest. The twittering of birds drew her outside and she searched either side of the dusty road lined with a thick copse of trees.

  “Lady Ellie.” Smithy waved at her from atop the driver’s seat, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and his thick gray coat folded beside him. “It’s a lovely a
fternoon.”

  “Yes, it is, Smithy. Where is His Grace?” She adjusted her lacy wrap.

  “Check with Gorman.” He hoisted one thumb over his shoulder. “Other side of the coach.”

  “Thank you. I shall.” With her pale pink skirts in hand, she trekked around the tail end of the coach and walked across the lush grass within a small meadow. Gorman sloshed a pail of water between the horses tethered to a tree. The coach’s geldings had been removed from their harnesses and now munched on the grass along with Ashten and Gorman’s steeds. “Good afternoon, Gorman.”

  “Afternoon, my lady.” Gorman, now dressed in sandy colored trousers and a black vest over a white shirt, set his pail down and crossed to her. He eyed Smithy and instructed, “Pass the lady’s valise down, if you will.”

  Smithy dropped the valise and Gorman caught it.

  “If you wish to change,” Gorman murmured as he led the way across the meadow, “there’s an abandoned woodsman’s shack just through the trees. I gave it a sweep when we arrived, removed the dust and the cobwebs.”

  “You brought a broom with you?” She followed Gorman as he led the way into the woods and twenty feet in, a woodsman’s shack indeed appeared through the trees, one with a thatched roof and wooden beamed sides.

  “No, but I fashioned a rather good broom out of a long thin branch with a pine bough knotted to it. His Grace changed inside and declared the spot safe and secure for you as well, once you’d awoken of course. Smithy and I were instructed to allow you to sleep for as long as you needed.” A heave against the door, and Gorman set her valise inside and held the door open for her to enter.

  “Where would His Grace be right now?” She stepped inside the windowless shack, the remains of a straw mattress falling to bits along one wall, although the straw had been nicely scooped in front of it and the makeshift broom propped in one corner. Indeed, not one cobweb swung from the rafters.

  “He took some line down to the river from Smithy’s box, intends on catching some fish for dinner.”

  “Oh, I see.” No matter he was a duke, her Ashten had always enjoyed fishing. He thrived on being outdoors, his very soul as one with nature itself. It was where he came alive, and always would.

  “Call out once you’ve need of me again.” Dipping his head as he backed out the door, Gorman left.

  She waited at the door until Gorman had disappeared back toward the meadow then she snuck out and found the perfect bush to crouch behind. Done with her ablutions, she walked into the shack and perused the clothing Penny had packed for her. She selected a walking dress with heavier burgundy skirts and long snug sleeves which would provide more warmth as they traveled farther north toward their border with Scotland. She added a velvet wrap of the same deep burgundy shade, tugged her riding boots on and closed her valise. Outside, she stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled, just as Harry had taught her to do as a child, and as no lady should ever know how to do.

  At the shrill call, Gorman emerged through the trees, his lips lifting as he trotted back, the streaks of silver at the sides of his dark head glinting in the late afternoon sunshine. “The duke’s mother could whistle loud and clear, just as you’ve done. It does my heart good to hear such a whistle from a lady again.”

  “What was she like, Ashten’s mother?”

  “The duchess was a rare beauty, like a butterfly with glowing, near translucent wings that sent her soaring high or dipping low. Every sweet and radiant flower she touched bloomed even brighter because of her fingers upon it. She adored all those at Blackgale Park as well, would visit the villagers within their duchy, spend time with the families of the servants, whether they were from the household staff or the outdoor staff. She enjoyed tending the flower beds with the gardener, would wander through the huge stables and feed apple slices to the horses, and of the three-hundred staff at her beck and call, she knew each and every one of us by name.”

  “I wish I’d known her.”

  “You are so very like her, both in your sweet nature and fierce spirit.”

  “Thank you, that is a huge compliment.” One she adored. “Gorman, I’d like to speak to His Grace if you can show me the way to where he’s fishing.”

  “Absolutely, I’ll escort you to the river then I’ll see to the return of your valise to the coach. His Grace certainly wouldn’t appreciate it if I allowed you to walk about unattended on your own. Mr. Tidmore either.”

  “Oh my, yes, where is Mr. Tidmore?” Good grief. She’d not once thought of her betrothed since she’d awoken.

  “The gentleman is also fishing, although a little farther downstream from the duke. The two are enjoying a competition as such.”

  “To see who can catch the most fish?” Whenever Ashten and Harry had gone fishing, they’d bet on who could bring home the most fish, the winner receiving a prize from the other, of whatever they’d chosen as the stakes.

  “Yes, that is correct.” Gorman led the way through the trees and she followed. Within a hundred feet, the trees thinned and she stepped into another small meadow with lush grass lining both sides of the river, fast-flowing water cascading over rocks and splashing around the bend.

  Ashten stood on a rock jutting out from a mound of rocks, his fishing line in the water and a pail beside him, the tail ends of a few fish poking out. His navy breeches hugged his tight backside to perfection, the cuffs of his billowy white shirt rolled back a few inches to expose the crisp hairs on his forearms. He’d discarded his jacket and cravat, which sat folded in a tidy pile on the bank, and of which Gorman swiftly collected then disappeared with his armful along the trail they’d just traversed.

  She moved closer to Ashten, taking care not to squish the daisies waving from within the thick grass. Merriment twinkled in his piercing blue eyes as he turned and caught sight of her, although he said not a word, but instead smiled wider. Sometimes one didn’t need to say a word to understand what another was thinking, and his smile certainly conveyed his current thoughts, that he was once again in his element, at home with nature where he most desired.

  As his line got tugged, he turned his attention back to the water and dragged in another fish. It bounced from the end of his line as he brought it up onto the rocks. He crouched, tugged the hook free and dropped the fish into his pail, his leg not appearing to be bothering him at all as he strode back across the rocks with barely a limp. He set his pail down at the water’s edge, scooped a handful of sand and scrubbed his hands clean before dunking them again and washing the sand away.

  Over the tops of the trees, the sun dipped lower, the afternoon almost at an end, but not yet. She wished to collect some of these sweet daisies waving their heads within the grass. She fashioned a makeshift bowl in her skirts by pinning together the velvet at the front, then plucked as many daisies as she could and wandered back to Ashten, who had remained watching her with a slightly silly grin on his handsome face.

  “Are you going to make me a daisy chain?” The look of hope on his face was impossible to miss.

  “That all depends on who caught the most fish.”

  “Hopefully me. I just hooked my fifth fish. Don’t let go of your skirts.” Gently, he cupped her cheeks in his hands, his smile smoldering as he pressed his body so close to hers.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Wishing you a good evening, since the night is almost upon us.”

  “You’re touching me.”

  “Yes, and if Gorman weren’t within shouting distance and Tidmore fishing just a little farther down the river, I would instead be toppling you onto the ground and kissing you as disrespectfully as I possibly could.”

  “Then I should go and see how my betrothed is.”

  “It’s interesting that you’ve come to see me first.” One wicked smirk.

  “I’m simply taking the chance to say a fond farewell to my brother’s dearest friend while I can.” She reached up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “There truly is no need for you to chaperone us to Gretna Green.”
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  “There is every need, my sweet ray of sunshine.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and dipped her back off her feet, a smoldering look flickering in his eyes.

  “What are you doing? I’m going to drop my daisies.” She fumbled to keep them contained.

  “How many children would you like to have?” He licked across the seam of her lips.

  “Ashten.” She opened her mouth to growl him further, only he groaned and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her, so sweetly and passionately and her world tilted.

  “I’d like five,” he murmured against her lips as he eased back an inch. “The same number of children as what you have in your family. I’ve always thought that a good number. There aren’t too many siblings as to get under one’s feet, yet also not too few that one can’t have at least one brother or sister close at hand if needed.”

  “You told me you have a remote third cousin who shall inherit your title and lands upon your death, that he will do fine enough as your heir.”

  “I’ve changed my mind on that front.”

  “No, you are still attempting to change mine, and your ploy won’t work.”

  “Ellie!” A shout echoed through the trees, Tidmore’s shout.

  Oh goodness. She wriggled out of Ashten’s arms, thankfully without dropping her daisies. She breathed deep and tried to compose herself just as Tidmore strode through the thick foliage with a welcoming smile.

  “There you are.” He waved with one hand, his other gripping his pail. “Did you have a good sleep?”

  “Yes, and thank you for allowing me to continue resting after we stopped to water the horses.” She pecked his cheek. “How many fish did you catch?”

  “Four.” He tucked a loose lock of her hair behind her ear, then arched a brow at Ashten. “What about you, eh, Duke?”

  “Five.” A rumbling growl, Ashten’s jovial mood now at a clear end.

  Thank heavens for that. An angry Ashten was far easier to deal with than a determined Ashten.