The tense silence lasted for more than ten minutes, before Angel, who was mild mannered and considerate, could stand it no longer, peace being her venue of choice which she well knew how to deal with, how to keep her soul still and peaceful when the world around her was stormy and violent. “Do you think perhaps the weather will hold out?” She asked Asher turning towards him who was still gazing out the window.
He heard her but pretended not to and waited for her to call his name before turning towards her with an air of hovering aloofness. “Yes?” He asked, cocking one brow as if in mild annoyance.
Angel did not understand why he was in such a disagreeable mood and could understand even less why she was so affected by his moods. She wanted nothing more than to get him to smile, to laugh again as he once had and to even tease her, even though she knew it was best to not. “The weather, Asher, do you think it will rain? My father told me that England gets a dismal pour of rain throughout the year. Is this true, in America, Boston, it shines a lot; New York was no different, although it was awfully cold during the winter. I don’t like the cold, I love spring, when the flowers bloom and the rain has stopped, signaling another year of renewal.”
“Then you have come to the wrong country if you wish to escape the rain and the cold.” He spoke no other words, turning away from her once more to stare outside.
Angel’s words failed to make him speak companionably towards her, so she tried once again. “What is your favorite time of year?” She asked.
“I have no favorite time of the year, the days, weeks and months are all the same.”
“Oh, no, truly, Asher, everyone has a favorite time of the year. I believe farmers are during the winter, that way they do not have to toil so hard. And shopkeepers during the spring because more people are in need of their wares. And reverends during the summer because of the many marriages to take place.”
“Angel you are an idealistic and utterly naïve,” he commented bitterly, taking delight in those words he threw at her. “Is that how all Americans think, such as yourself, so simplistic? No, farmers toil just as hard in the winter as they do in the summer, their work is never finished and they gain no rest until their day of death. Shopkeepers must constantly utilize their wits throughout the year to get people to buy their wares or they shall be out of house and business and reverends care little when couples marry as long as they do marry and save themselves the embarrassment of having illegitimate children.”
Angel floundered, instead of turning once more biddable, Asher became caustic tongued and almost hateful, something she had come across very few people in her life, namely, Lair, being the only one who willingly hurt with his words. Instantly, her defenses came up and she rankled beneath his censure. “Perhaps I am idealistic; I see nothing wrong with believing the best in people. And perhaps I am naïve and perhaps I am even simplistic but that should not give you cause to hold me in such low esteem, sir, I do not deserve your censure and if you cannot talk to me in a like manner as I talk to you than I will no longer attempt to engage you in conversation.”
They met eyes, feline meeting a stormy cloud. “Oh, the little kitten has claws, after all?” He asked, once again, making her feel small, no more than two feet tall, a child being reprimanded. “Your first show of emotion…other than outright passion, that is,” he commented snidely.
“How dare you!” She breathed hotly, totally shocked at how ugly his words had become, as if accusing her of doing things she had no knowledge of. He belittled her when just hours ago he’d held her face, like a precious jewel in his hands. “Why have you turned so mean tempered?” She asked, feeling at a loss for words, her own emotions in an upheaval and finding it so hard to believe she had shared her first kiss with this man so short of a time before. Instantly, she grew vulnerable, withdrawing herself, emotionally, from his abuse, retreating inside herself as she had did often, in her youth, mainly to hide from the pain of hurt she could not dare escape from.
Turning once more towards her window, she crossed her legs, placing one hand in her lap, the other elbow, supported by said hand and fisted hand pressed tightly against her cheek as she bit back the sting of tears now coming to her eyes. She thought of the time she had spent with her father and suddenly missed him so dreadfully she wished herself home this very minute all the while blinking back hot tears.
Asher knew he was being an ass but refused to feel anything for the silly tears she tried so valiantly not to shed. He could not help this part of him, grown colder and more distrustful over the years that hurt the many people he came in contact with. And yet, unlike the many times before when his acidic words caused many a female to leak tears, this time he felt disgust at himself and wanted the time to return to the easy going manner the two had exchanged earlier. But so many years of being one way made it hard for Asher to want to change, not when that one way had protected him vastly in the past. Not quite apologizing, he tried for truce instead, Angel not realizing the great effort it took him. “Upon the countryside, it does not rain as much and is usually quite sunny, during the late spring to early fall. That is where Gabriel’s, and my own family’s estate happen to belong, you’ll not see a more beautiful place.”
Watching her reactions he was satisfied when she gave him a small nod even though her eyes were still upon the passing landscape.
Settling back in his seat he kept quiet refusing to say more when what he had just said was more than enough. She should know now that he was not upset with her and waited for her to strike up a conversation once more.
And Asher waited in vain. He turned towards her, thirty minutes later and found her still stubbornly staring outside, refusing to acknowledge his presence even when he kept shifting upon his seat and scratching his throat. Irritated, he sullenly placed his boots upon the seat next to her, noticing with no small satisfaction that she did not even flinch or notice his boots which was within half a foot of her blue dress. He crossed his arms across his chest and stared at her beneath hooded eyes, taking in the delicately curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips which were closed and the motions of her eyes as she kept her gaze upon interesting habitat of an English countryside.
It upset him that she spoke not when he longed for the sound of her voice and hated himself for this weakness he was exuding for her, privately of course, but to Asher he felt as if he were blowing trumpets to announce to the whole world that he wanted this lone, small foreign and exotic looking woman for his private collection.
But if she refused to speak, so too did Asher and he placed his head back upon his seat, closing his eyes and pretended to ignore her just as well as she was ignoring him.
Angel nearly sighed with relief when she felt Asher’s hot gaze finally melt away. Taking a small breath, she hesitantly peeked towards him and noticed with bated breath that his eyes were closed and he looked to be resting. Taking her fill of him, she studied the curls upon his hair, his hairline, the shape of his forehead, the slant of his nose, the length of his lashes and the curve of his lip.
“Do you have your fill?” He asked, opening his eyes to catch hers while she shook with embarrassment before turning away once more.
“The kitten has sheathed her claws, I see,” he replied, no longer mean, but this time, once more teasing her in a gentle way. “I do not mind you gazing upon me, it makes me feel…wanted,” he replied wickedly and laughed outright when she blushed furiously before harrumphing and turning away once more without saying one word.
He’d teased her too much and so, Angel, refused to allow him to bait her any more, she would ignore him as best as she could for the entire trip which she prayed would be short, to say the least. It didn’t keep her thoughts from drifting however; into wondering what he was thinking and trying to understand his many shifting moods. She’d not been around someone who had such mood swings.
The early years with her mother had been wonderful; her mother had worked hard but always had a kind word, gentle hand and a loving word for her onl
y daughter. The days with Lair had been hard, but she’d known what to expect soon from living there and Lair’s mood had stayed much the same, an insane man with the need to hurt others. But the time afterwards with her father had nearly erased all the pain of Lair’s tortured soul and knowing both her and Hunter had escaped his horrible clutches and moved on. And her father, surely the Lord God had created the perfect man, certainly her father grew upset every once and again, like all people, but he was generally an agreeable person, and she’d taken her temperament after him, so she was not well under prepared for the tenacious mood swings of this man before her whom she’d given her first kiss to.
After two more hours of uncomfortable silence with nothing except the noises of the carriage, the neighing of horses and the muffled speech of the outriders amongst each other, Angel finally fell into an uncomfortable sleep, her head resting upon her raised hands lying against the side of the carriage.
Asher sighed wearily, himself tired from trying to ignore the tension in the enclosed carriage. Suddenly, he wished more than anything, to lay her head upon her shoulder and decided to do just that, easing onto the seat next to her and gently pulling her into his arms, noticing the drying tears upon her cheeks that tugged at his heart which he pushed down once more, knowing that to give her an ounce of him would be the end of it all.
Instead, he held her lightly in his arms, as she snuggled closer to his side, still asleep and trying to get comfortable, before she finally found a spot that suited her and settled into a deep sleep.
He could think of no place at this moment in which he would rather be, holding her close to him, studying the curls which tried so hard to escape from her bun. Her hair wasn’t just originally black as he’d first thought, but also showed signs of mahogany, reds and dark browns. He expertly pulled her pins out with his free hand, allowing the curls to tumble down her back and which satisfied him to no extent, before he to eased back into the seat, and pretending no longer, eased into a satisfying sleep.
The sky had darkened, the carriage wheels slowing as the horses realized how close they were to their destination, after more hours in the carriage, and three stops to feed the horses and allow the men and Angel to eat and take nature breaks, Asher was within moments of seeing his sister. Back in his seat after he’d laid Angel down upon her seat and covered her with a blanket, he gently shook her awake, knowing she needed time to hurriedly refresh herself before greeting his and Gabriel’s family.
“Angel,” He said gently, shaking her arm, keeping himself from caressing the length. “Ms. Angel, wake up, we have arrived,” he said again and watched as she yawned into her hand, before stretching, unaware of how his eyes followed her every move.
Angel opened bleary eyes before they finally focused on Asher who shook her gently, feeling embarrassed at him finding her in such a personal position she hurriedly sat up, staring with surprise at the blanket upon her lap, the darkening sky and her hair loosed from its’ pins.
“We are within moments of arriving,” Asher said and watched as her eyes opened excitedly, making her forget the turmoil surrounding her as Asher opened his hands, her hair pins in his large palms, and smiling at her like a hesitant boy. “I took them out, to make you more comfortable as you slept,” he merely said and gently pulled her palm upward when she made no motions and placed the pins in her hand. “I would try to pin it up for you but I never tried to undertake such a happening and seeing as how I am only talented at taking them down.”
Perhaps too tired Angel did not blush, smiling softly, as she hurriedly pinned her hair back up, glancing outside at the long driveway which they’d entered, large oak trees on either side of the carriage. “I cannot believe, my trip has finally ended,” she said excitedly, nearly bobbing up and down in her seat as she tried to ease the wrinkles from her clothing and smoothing her already smooth hair, which she’d expertly pinned up.
He rode her excitement, he to, staring outside, their heads nearly touching as they stared through the window of the door, the carriage slowly pulling in front of Asher’s brother in laws, large estate, it being well lit.
The doors were opened, Gabe’s butler seen through it as a young servant man hurriedly opened their door and placed the carriage steps down for the couple. “Are you ready?” Asher asked, turning toward the now nervous Love. “Worry not, Ms. Angel, my family is a lot nicer than I am.”
She stared with startled eyes at his words, and allowed him to escort her from the carriage, butterflies in her stomach and hoping that what he said was true. “I could only hope so, sir,” she returned smartly while allowing him to escort her up the stairs where they could already hear excited chatter as Hawthorne greeted the pair.
“Mr. Davis, and this must be Ms. Barrett, welcome, ms, my lady will be most happy that you have arrived here safely,” the butler said, smiling as he escorted the two inside where a group of people were waiting.
“Oh, my!” An excited voice exclaimed, and Angel glanced up to see an older woman walking towards them, small, with a beautifully rounded figure and dark silky hair in a golden face with dark brown eyes, an older, more darker equally beautiful version of Hunter, Angel thought instantly, recognizing that this woman was perhaps Hunter’s mother.
“Ms. Barrett! Do, come in, and welcome, dear! Oh, thank God you have made it. I am Maria, Hunter’s mother,” the woman said, smiling warmly towards Angel and squeezing her hands warmly, before turning towards her son. “And I do hope my son has behaved perfectly respectable towards you,” she commented, staring at her son with narrowed eyes.
Asher did nothing more than smile, before kissing his mother on the cheek. “Of course, my love,” he said unabashedly while Angel reassured him he did as she so presumed.
“And who is this?” A voice interrupted, a tall, ruddy English man, in his middle years but still powerfully built yet with a shock of thick silver hair and eyes that were the exact same color of Asher’s.
“Ms. Barrett has finally arrived,” Hunter’s mother said, turning towards her husband. “Come, Ethan,” she said, before excitedly turning back towards Angel who watched with wide eyes. “Oh, dear forgive me, this is Lord Hawthorne, my husband and Hunter’s father, but do, you must hurry and come upstairs, Hunter awaits and is quite disagreeable because she has fretted over you much. We can deal with the polite decorum of introductions later, but now Hunter awaits.” She said.
Angel barely had time to curtsy towards Hunter’s father before Maria was pulling her toward the steps as the servants rushed back and forth hurriedly and
Angel overheard someone whisper of birthing pains beginning. With energy in her step she was close upon Maria’s heels, who kept up a running stream of conversation while Angel made one last turn back towards Asher, but already he had vanished, along with his father, from her sight.
Feeling oddly bereft, she turned back towards Maria following the small woman down one long hallway and then another before they finally entered a large, oak door, Maria sweeping into a sitting area which was empty, before knocking on another door on the opposite wall of the sitting area. “Hunter, Gabriel, it is I and I have a surprise,” Maria chimed happily, nearly bobbing up and down.
A masculine voice said responded and Elizabeth opened the door, ushering Angel into the brightly lit room.
“Angel!” Hunter exclaimed who had been walking around the room since her birthing pains had begun even though her husband had tried vainly to get her to sit down and rest as she should.
Angel, smiled, widely, joy erupting in her heart as memories of their friendship which had withstood the test of time, tears and distance was met with altruistic clarity, the two women staring at each other with joy, before rushing to hug, laughing, crying and talking all at once.
“You are safely here, thank God,” Hunter cried as Angel carefully hugged her back, her burgeoning stomach making it quite hard, however.
“And you, Hunter,” Angel said, pulling away to look at the voluptuous Hunter who looked rea
dy to give birth at any minute. “Or should I say, my lady, you look so wonderful!” She cried
Hunter’s tears had already started, while Angel sniffed happily, as she noticed Hunter’s husband and mother leave the room, giving the pair much needed privacy. “Don’t you dare call me, my lady; I am and will always be Hunter. Oh, my, Angel, you look so beautiful, so wonderful, we can both say we have become ladies these past two years, can we not?” Hunter said, pulling Angel towards a small settee as the two sat down.
“Now, tell me all about your father, I would wish to hear the news once again.”
But Angel shook her head. “Hunter, you are about to give birth, soon, I see,” Angel said as Hunter flinched slightly, another birthing pain making it hard for her to breathe or even move. “Very soon,” Angel amended, smiling softly. “We shall have time enough to speak after the child is born, but now, I shall bring your husband back in the room to allow you to rest.”
And even though Hunter wanted to argue she knew it was for the best. “Yes, bring that dratted man in who got me into this predicament. Oh, Angel,” Hunter said, hugging her once more. “I am so glad you are here with me, especially during this time, I have missed you so much. Let us promise, never to go more than two years without visiting one another, alright?” Hunter asked.
Angel nodded in acquiesced. “Of course. Never again.”
Another birthing pain hit her, Hunter moaning deeply, concentrating. It was a
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