by Erin Rye
Sincerely,
Ella Nicholson
Ashton stared at the letter, stunned. The words were those of a stranger. True, the two of them had lied to his grandmother in the beginning, but after last night, he’d felt sure she’d begun to care for him. His gaze caught on the line I have left to live a new life elsewhere. Where would she go? With what money? She’d left Cyril. A thread of suspicion wound through him. She would never leave her brother.
He scanned the letter again. His attention caught on her signature. Nicholson. Ella Nicholson? Something was dreadfully wrong. Ella would never refer to herself by that name. She had chosen to forget her past and start a new life with her mother’s name of Wetherby… That new life included him.
She could never have written such nonsense—especially after the night they’d shared.
He spun and strode from the room. At the stairway, he took the steps two at a time. In the foyer, Mrs. Thornton stood speaking to James.
“Ella,” he interrupted. “Have you seen Ella?”
“Why I saw her not an hour ago, my lord. She left with Angel.” Mrs. Thornton paused, then asked, “What is it, my lord?”
The door opened, and Duncan entered. His boots were caked with mud and he looked as though he’d fallen off his horse.
He frowned as he closed the door. “You look positively ill, Ashton. Is something the matter?”
His manner was too rehearsed, too polished. That, combined with the calculated gleam in his eye, confirmed Ashton’s suspicions all at once.
In three strides, he reached Duncan. Ashton grabbed his cousin by his lapel and twisted. “What have you done? I swear, Duncan, if you have harmed even one hair of her head, I will kill you.”
“Whatever is the matter?” his grandmother’s demand sounded behind him. “Ashton, where’s Ella?”
“That’s what I want to know.” Ashton released Duncan and thrust the letter he gripped in his free hand toward his grandmother. “Ella didn’t write this. I am no fool. I know my wife.”
His grandmother took the letter. Her gaze moved across the letter. She gasped, and her eyes snapped onto him. “Every man in this household will look for her, at once. James, gather all the men immediately.”
“Allow me to help,” Duncan offered.
Ashton whirled and drove his fist into Duncan’s belly. Duncan doubled over, wheezing.
Mrs. Thornton gasped.
Ashton seized his collar and yanked him upright. “Where is she?” he shouted.
“Ashton,” his grandmother cried. “What are you doing?” She reached for his arm.
“My lady--” James warned.
Ashton snapped his gaze onto her. It took two heartbeats for him to realize who she was.
“Let him go, Ashton,” she said. “We will find Ella.”
“He knows something, Grandmother.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes and he was startled at the sudden moisture he saw there. “Perhaps,” she said, “but you do not know for certain.”
He hesitated, then released his cousin.
Duncan sagged against the door. “I am not the devil, Ashton,” he wheezed. “You and I may have had our differences, but I wish Ella no harm.”
Ashton clenched his fists again. “By God—”
A dog’s bark cut him off.
He looked sharply at his grandmother.
“‘Tis Angel,” she said.
Angel barked again.
“He left with my lady,” Mrs. Thornton breathed.
Angel barked again and again…
Ashton seized Duncan by the collar, yanked him away from the door, then halted at sight of another figure standing in the hallway near the parlor door.
He locked gazes with Linda, and said, “I am sorry,” then threw open the door.
Angel stood on the top step and stared up at Ashton. He barked, then spun and took off at a run down the drive. Ashton grabbed the lamp sitting on the table to the left of the door, then started after the dog.
“After him, James,” his grandmother ordered.
An instant later, the butler reached his side and they raced after the pug. Ashton marveled at the little dog’s speed. Angel veered from the drive to the path at the left.
The wind rustled through the pines as they raced past the stables. Ashton’s heart pounded. Angel tore down the path ahead of them. Damn, if the animal wouldn’t outrun them. Angel, at last, veered right and disappeared into the trees. Ashton held the lantern up as he and James followed. Panic gripped Ashton.
“Angel,” he shouted. Where had he gone?
“I do believe he is there.” James pointed left.
Ashton squinted and glimpsed the pug as he leapt over a small branch. Ashton pumped his legs harder. To his surprise, James kept pace. They reached the fallen branch, jumped it, and kept going. Ashton glimpsed two glowing pinpoints of light in the darkness up ahead and realized Angel stood in the middle of the path.
When they neared the animal, Ashton said, “Where is she, lad?”
The wee dog whirled and shot away again. A moment later, Ashton realized where they must be going. Dread whipped through him. Nae, it couldn’t be. Memory flashed of his father’s bloody body lying in the barn after the bull gored him. He stumbled, recovered his balance, and kept running.
The dog dashed down the path and in short order, they emerged from the woods. The Barn of the Damned loomed up ahead. Ashton raised his lantern high and glimpsed Angel just before he disappeared around the back of the building.
“Ella?” Ashton shouted as they neared the barn. “Ella!”
Silence greeted him.
“Ella,” he shouted again.
Angel’s growl was followed by a man’s shout. Ashton discerned the gap in the wall. A large figure emerged, then whirled and lunged toward the trees.
“I have him, sir,” James said, and veered after the man.
Ashton practically dove through the opening in the barn wall. The toe of his boot caught on something. He stumbled and crashed to the ground. The lamp shattered and a ribbon of fire raced across the rotted wood of the floor. Ashton shoved to his feet. He whipped off his coat and slapped at the fire, but the old wood blazed with a ferocious life of its own. He had no chance of putting out the blaze.
He whirled, frantically scanning the building. “Ella!” he shouted.
Blood pounded in his ears. The flames seemed to rear up like a mighty steed.
“Ella.” He stumbled forward.
Where was she?
A bark sounded.
Ashton spun left.
More barking.
He sprinted toward the sound and leapt over a fallen beam. The fire blazed, as if giving chase. He jerked his head aside, then came to a skidding halt at the first stall. She wasn’t inside. Angel barked again. Ashton sprinted past the stalls and nearly tripped again when he reached the third stall and saw Ella, ankles and hands bound together behind her back like a damn prized hog. She lay on her side facing him, mouth gagged, eyes wide with terror.
He reached her in two paces and dropped to his knees. He pulled the gag over her head and she burst into tears. Ashton yanked free his boot knife and cut the rope between her wrists and ankles.
“Hold still,” he ordered, and slipped the blade between the knot and her wrists.
In one slice, he freed her, then cut the bonds on her feet. She threw herself into his arms and he dropped the blade.
“I was so afraid,” she sobbed into his shirt. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I know, love.” He closed his eyes. He’d thought the same.
Angel’s barks snapped his mind to attention. He shoved to his feet, pulling Ella up with him. She crumpled into his arms.
“Ella—”
She shook her head. “The bonds were so tight, I—”
Ashton swung her into his arms, spun, and stepped from the stall. Ella gasped. Flames engulfed the path to the opening. Smoke roiled upward in thick, angry coils. Dear God, could they escape? Ang
el darted left, through the smoke—away from the opening they’d entered. A chill swept down Ashton’s back. The little beastie had yet to fail them.
He crushed Ella’s face against his chest, took a deep breath, and charged after the animal. Smoke engulfed them. His eyes burned. The fire licked at them from the right. He glimpsed Angel racing between the stalls and flames. The doors came into view through the flames. Fear gripped his heart. The doors were boarded shut from the outside.
Smoke burned his nose. Ashton heard distant shouts over the roar of the fire. Wood cracked and sparks exploded around them. He ducked and a cloud of smoke roiled over them. His throat burned.
Another loud crack sounded, and he looked wildly about for the source of the sound. The doors swung open. His vision blurred, but he was sure a dozen large figures shifted in the illumination cast by the fire. Angel—lion that he was—soared through the flames and burst into the night.
Ashton stumbled forward. Ella’s arms tightened about his neck as he, like Angel, leapt over the burning beam. He touched ground, willed his legs to remain strong, and neared the door. Strong hands seized his arms, pulled him and Ella through the door and into the chill yard. He crashed to his knees, dragging in gasps of fresh air.
“Ella,” he rasped. “Are you unharmed?”
She drew back. “Duncan,” was the first word out of her mouth.
Chapter Fifteen
A Touch of Fire
A week later, Ella wandered down the woodland path as Angel happily rooted in a clump of ferns off to her right. She smiled at the dog. Life was strange. She’d rescued the little animal only to have him repay her in kind.
Through a gap in the trees ahead, she spied the flat field where the Barn of the Damned had stood the week before. A lot had changed since the day she’d first glimpsed it. Duncan had vanished during the search, along with the seaman he’d hired.
Lady Leighton had named Ashton her heir.
The winter wind tugged at her shawl as she paused on the freshly tilled soil. She was glad the barn was gone. Perhaps Ashton could let go of his past.
“Ella?”
Ella turned to see Ashton striding toward her. With a smile, she stepped forward to greet him.
“Why are you here?” Ashton asked when he reached her. “Haven’t you had enough of this place?”
She patted his cheek. “I shall plant a garden here. I’ll give it a new life.”
A smile entered his eyes and he folded her in a warm embrace. She burrowed against his chest. He’d been treating her like a fragile flower the entire week. At first, she’d appreciated the sentiment, but now? Now, she wanted to feel his skin against hers, his flesh pounding her channel as he sent her to dizzying heights of pleasure.
Ashton released her and stepped back. “You’ll catch your death in this cold,” he said.
“Hardly,” she nearly growled.
As she turned, a glint in the dirt caught her eye. She stooped and brushed the dirt away. A ring. She picked it up and stood. Gold with an onyx stone.
“What is it?” Ashton asked.
Ella extended the ring toward him.
His eyes widened as slowly, he took the ring. “My God, Duncan lost this ring… It wasn’t a dream.” The last was said in a hoarse whisper.
“A dream?” Ella repeated. “What does it mean?”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “Duncan was here, all those years ago.”
Ella stilled. “What do you mean?”
Ashton rubbed the dirt way from the stone. “Duncan was here, Ella. I was drunk, but I was certain I saw him open the gate for the maid. He took her to the back of the barn. He left the gate open. The bull….”
Realization struck. Duncan was responsible for Ashton’s father’s death. Anger streaked through her. The title of a Demon Lord would have suited him well.
“Then, it was Duncan, not you,” she murmured.
Ashton clenched his jaw. “He swore I ordered him to leave and that he’d obeyed. The maid swore she saw him at home. Yet…” After a moment, he released a sigh and glanced around. “The past is gone and buried, lass. Let us speak no more on the matter.”
“As you wish.” Ella leaned her head against his shoulder.
He slipped the ring into his waistcoat pocket, then slid an arm about her waist. “Come, let us go. I’ll not have you become ill from the cold.”
“I am not so delicate, Ashton,” she complained as they set off. “I am a hardy woman, if you care to recall. Was I not washing clothes when we met?”
He granted her a nod. “Aye, but you are Lady Strachan now, and I will not have you so much as look at a washtub.”
Ella wrinkled her nose. “Truth be told, I shan’t miss washing clothes.”
Ashton cradled her hands in his. “These hands are meant for other things now.”
His fingers felt so warm on hers. Ella slowed and looked up at him through her lashes. He came to a stop.
“You are beautiful, Ella.”
His eyes darkened. A shiver of excitement raced straight to her core. She ran a slow hand over his powerful, hard chest. He made a sound, low in his throat and began walking her backwards toward a large oak, step by step, until the tree bark pressed her back.
He brushed his lips lightly over hers. “I want you,” he whispered. “Now.”
Her heart began to pound. “Here?”
“Aye,” he breathed into her mouth.
She met his kiss halfway in a frenzied claiming of the lips. He rucked up her dress and slipped a knee between her legs. As he lifted one of her legs with his arm, she unbuttoned his breeches and freed his swelling shaft.
He rubbed the length of his manhood between her folds. “You are wet for me,” he grunted in approval.
He lined his cock up to her entrance and took her in a single, glorious thrust.
“Yes,” Ella gasped in pleasure as her channel stretched around his girth.
This was a new kind of coupling, a frantic, desperate one. One that thrilled her to the core.
He hefted her up against the tree and wrapped her legs around his hips, her weight penetrating her even deeper on his shaft. She clung to him, desperately, as their coupling grew feverish, closer to a ravishing.
“Say my name,” he demanded as he drove into her in fast strokes. “Say it.”
“Ashton,” she mouthed, scarcely able to breathe. “Ashton.”
“You are mine,” he growled. “Say it.”
She did.
Epilogue
Several months later
Ella watched the dancers twirl in the ballroom and hid a yawn behind her fan. She simply didn’t have the energy to stay awake a moment longer. If only she could crawl back in bed and sleep for a week…maybe longer.
To her right, she spied the new nursery maid, Mrs. Winthrop, marching out of the ballroom with Cyril in tow. Ella hid a smile. He kept Mrs. Winthrop busy whenever he visited from school.
“Ella, dear,” a soft voice said at her elbow.
Ella turned to see Linda smiling warmly at her. They had grown close since the birth of her twins and Duncan’s disappearance.
“You should rest,” Linda suggested.
“Indeed, my dear child, you should be in bed,” the Lady Leighton said as she swept up to join them.
Ella shook her head stubbornly and tried her best to suppress another yawn. “I can’t miss Kinnettles’ first ball.”
The Dowager Countess smiled, the diamonds in her tiara glittering in the candlelight. “My dear, when he discovers why you wish to leave, he will be quite beside himself.” She pinched Ella’s cheeks and smiled.
Ella frowned. Surely the older woman couldn’t know. Ella hadn’t told anyone the cause…not yet, since she’d just found out herself that morning.
Lady Leighton and Linda shared a knowing laugh.
“Come now, Ashton may be blind, my dear, but we are not,” Linda teased. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall retire. I heartily suggest you do the same. It has been a sp
lendid evening.”
Ella shyly kissed her cheek.
Linda had no sooner left than a man’s voice murmured, “Lady Strachan.”
Both Ella and the countess turned to greet the newcomer.
Sir Stirling James bowed. “How lovely to see you, Lady Leighton,” he said with an easy laugh.
“Indeed, Sir Stirling, I’ve been remiss in visiting you.” The Dowager Countess smiled, then shook her head. “You are a wizard. I should have trusted you far sooner to find Ashton’s match.”
Ella blinked.
“Oh, heavens,” She clamped a hand over her mouth then expelled a breath. “It was meant to remain a secret, but apparently, I am too old for secrets.”
“Never, my lady.” Stirling chuckled.
Ella arched a brow. “Whatever are you speaking of, Grandmother?”
“You mustn’t tell Ashton, child. Do you swear?”
Ella glanced from her to Stirling and back. “I swear, but what secret is this?”
“I couldn’t bear Anne,” she confessed. “When I discovered her rather delicate secret, I knew she and Ashton would soon part ways. I sent for Stirling straightway.” She beamed a broad smile at him. “I’d heard so many wondrous things about you, Stirling. They were all true.”
“This time, my lady, Fate stepped in,” Stirling said. “Plus, like you, I couldn’t bear to see Ashton tie a millstone about his neck.”
“Anne would have made a dreadful mistress of Kinnettles,” the Dowager agreed with a mock shudder.
“Wait…” Ella frowned. “I…thought you hadn’t made up your mind, Grandmother.”
The older woman fanned her face as she leaned over and whispered, “It was always Ashton, my dear, from the very beginning. He thought he was living, but I could see he wasn’t. I tried to make him engage with life by holding the inheritance over his head…” Her eyes twinkled. “He simply hadn’t met the right woman.”
Ella blushed.
“Ah, here comes Ashton. I’ve said far, far too much. Let us leave, Stirling. Come.” She pinched Ella’s cheeks one last time, then slipped her arm through Stirling’s and swept him into the crowd.
