Angel of Ash

by Law, Josephine

  “None of which I care to recall,” he said truthfully.

  That answer pleased her immensely and she smiled, before lifting one hand towards him a sponge in its’ grasp. “Would you please wash my back?”

  He nodded, standing up from his seat to walk towards her, his booted feet treading softly upon the marble floor. She was surprised at that, he was as big as a great cat but as stealth as a sleek tiger, hunting its’ prey. He’d already captured her, one look into his bottomless eyes had caused her to forget all else except being with him.

  She turned away from him once he’d taken the sponge out of her hands. She next handed him the soap and felt more than heard him kneel behind her as shivers raced along her spine at his nearness.

  The soap was placed back in the small dish beside her and she leaned forward, feeling first the touch of the sponge upon her back as he slowly washed her upper back, than her neck, before working down towards her lower back. When he had washed her clean, she thought he would hand the sponge back to her, but he didn’t.

  “Lean back against the tub,” he commanded.

  She did so.

  “Close your eyes.”

  She did so.

  Her breathing became more and more shallow as she felt the sponge touch the front of her chests, right above her breasts, making small circles before drifting towards her neck, her left arm, than her right arm. Her stomach.

  She felt him shift, and then his voice was before her as he commanded her to lift her right leg for him to wash. She did as he told her, followed by her left leg. Her eyes still closed, instead of placing her left leg back in the tub, he lifted it, draping it across the tubs rim, as she lay exposed before him.

  She finally opened her eyes, Asher staring at her with his smoky eyes and she smiled like a wanton, she was sure, but did not care. “What of your pleasure?” She asked, her eyes drifting down his magnificent form.

  “I give you free rein to see to my pleasure now,” he said.

  She knelt in the tub, taking off his shirt hurriedly, and unbuttoning his pants, grasping him before he could even get them off. Laughing shakily he joined her in the tub, as the two thrashed around in the water like golden nymphs before he claimed her once again. She ended up on top of his body, her breathing back to normal as she stroked his thick bicep and shoulder. Finally, she knew, it was time for them to get up, dinner would be served soon and it would not do for the two to be seen rushing in late, together.

  Before standing, she kissed his chest, the thud of his heartbeat beneath her, his neck, before finally meeting his lips. She would not believe that Asher could do anything callous, already he told her that if he did not ignore her, he would not be able to hide his desire for her from his family. That did not mean it did not hurt, however, no matter how much she understood the need for it. “Will you be at dinner?” She asked expectantly, hope in her eyes.

  He studied her, before slowly nodding.

  Biting her lip, she ducked her eyes, refusing to meet his, lying her head upon his chest, her eyes turned towards the wall as she asked her next question, his hands rubbing her back. “I know that you say it is for the best, how we act in public…but Asher, do you think, that you could perhaps, look upon me kindly. I do not like the way we have to ignore each other. We could pretend that we are becoming fast friends, can we not?”

  Asher knew that it was for the best, but against his better judgment he agreed, stroking her one last time before lifting her and himself up. “As you wish, my lady.”

  She kissed him in happiness waving good bye as she escaped to her room, happy, placing one of her most beautiful evening gowns on, pale, pink ice, the cleavage low, but not daringly so, even though it would tempt any man standing directly over her, only, she hope, to be Asher. She placed the matching slippers on, her hair in a chignon above her head, tendrils framing her face and delicate neck. Pleased with her appearance, she left just as the clock chimed for before dinner refreshments.

  Asher was already there when she arrived and she smiled at him as he lifted his glass of decanter in salute of her. She tried her best not to look at him overly long, instead, greeting Maria and Ethan, Maria asking after her health, whom she sat next to and David, Michael and Luke surrounding them as they spoke of family and the like.

  A hushed entered the room, seconds later, and a voice announcing Hunter’s arrival, which looked stunningly beautiful in an emerald green gown that matched her husband’s eyes, he escorting his beautiful and petite wife, her first appearance since the birth of her son.

  The crowd applauded, standing up as the ones who’d yet to see Hunter wished her well. Angel found her way beside Hunter, ignoring decorum and giving her closest friend a warm hug. “I did not know you would be up and about and looking so beautiful,” she cried.

  Hunter studied Angel. “I? You are simply delicious to look upon, you have every man here panting like dogs,” she whispered, laughing as Angel joined her.

  “Oh, do stop,” Angel returned as the butler called that dinner was ready and the dinner guests began to make their way to the dining room.

  It was Caleb this time who asked for her hand and she agreed but not before finding Asher’s eyes and giving him another smile which he once again returned as Caleb escorted her to the table, making small talk. She was no longer sitting beside Asher, but now in the middle of the twins, the seating informal, but both on their best behavior after Caleb had warned them away from her.

  Therefore, the conversation was light, the dinner delicious and the company entertaining as the intimate dinner for the family spoke on various subjects, everyone in the best of moods.

  It was with great amusement that Gabe announced music was to be played in the ball, informal of course, as everyone stood to make their way, Angel unexpectedly finding herself beside Asher.

  “This is wonderful,” she said, almost touching his hand, but stopping herself just in time. “One of the first things my father did was allow me dance lessons; I have missed it and the piano.”

  “Do you play?” He asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  “Then perhaps you will perform a small little something for us,” he said and the twins overheard, exclaiming to the rest of the crowd who cheered her on into playing the opening dance.

  But Angel waved them away, until Hunter asked her, also, remembering the many nights Lair had made Angel play, the achingly haunting music filling the home and easing a small part of Hunter’s soul.

  And Hunter shared the look of a past well-kept secret and Angel finally nodded as Gabe escorted her to the piano, a small group of musicians upon violins, harps, flute, specially hired for the birth of his new child.

  She felt slightly embarrassed, asking the group if they knew how to play Beethoven’s waltz number eighteen. The artists nodded excitedly, it was one of their better works as Angel gave them directions which note to play and Gabe introduced the group with a special introduction for Angel, who smiled before settling her fingers upon the piano, beginning to play, the one wonderful thing about this piece was that the piano recital came first, the musicals came within half a page after her, keeping abreast of the music as it flowed together, couples taking to the floor in the dance as the crowd enjoyed the splendid music that Angel was unearthing to them.

  Angel soon became lost in the music, a personal passion she had unearthed in herself at an early age. When she had been but a child, still a slave, she had been enthralled by the master’s wife, who would play so beautifully upon the piano. She would often spend hours, hidden away, listening to the music. When Mrs. Caroline had caught her, instead of being angry, she was thankful that there was someone to enjoy her music, other than herself, her husband and children finding little delight in it as she had. She excused Angel from her duties, and instead taught her how to play, the two spending hours upon hours at the piano, and in playing how to read and write. Angel had an inner knack to hear an then immediately play what she heard. Less than two years later,
she had out performed all that Caroline had taught her. Caroline had then brought a tutor in, to teach the young slave girl and he too had been amazed by her ability until she too, learned all that there was to learn from him. Caroline had had many fights with her husband but she’d been a stubborn woman and she’d insisted that the young child be able to play. Caroline invested many beautiful outfits for her, and would allow her to play for the guests and then for large dinner parties, even hosting the governor and state senators often. And in teaching her how to play, she also taught Angel her lessons, arithmetic, spelling and history. Finding in Angel a willing and apt student, someone who had been willing to learn unlike her children, now long grown.

  And as Angel played, she thought kindly upon Caroline, who’d insisted that Angel and her mother be giving her freedom upon her death bed. And they would have been freed, if not her husband had been cold and calculating, selling Angel to Laird within a day of her mother’s death. The same sickness that had over taken Mrs. Caroline.

  Angel played for her mother, Glory, Angel played for Caroline, and her mentor who had pushed her to continue learning, to continue playing no matter what and Angel played for herself.

  She remembered the many nights, Laird had made her play, and she believed that her music had been the only thing to ease his soul which was tortured, dark. He’d sat in the dark, as she’d played in the dark, not needing light, in the wee hours of the night, lulling him into some kind of peace, filling the house with music to lull, to ease, to send one to peace. She was thankful that in playing, he seemed entranced with her music and often would leave Hunter alone for days, away from his abuse, as long as she continued playing for him. The music had touched everyone in the large house, easing the servants to sleep, easing the pain which Hunter felt, locked away in the attic easing the horror in which she lived. And to Angel, as she serviced others rather than herself, she thought nothing of what it could do for her, other than to also ease the pain in her soul, as she played for ghosts long since gone, a father never seen a past never heard of.

  And because she became so enraptured in her playing, sometimes she’d envision people, forming before her eyes, dancing in front of her, around her, the ladies in beautiful dresses, the men handsome and kind, the many people who had crossed her short life.

  It was with no wonder, that the entire grouping felt the stirrings of Angel’s soul as she played, the music haunting, sweeping the great hall and filling the castle as never before, the melody so profound, it was as if Angel’s fingers painted a picture for them all to see.

  Jane sniffled, trying to hide the tears that formed in her eyes as she danced with David, who looked all too knowingly at what she was feeling. “I have never heard such music,” he whispered towards her, Jane nodding in agreement, dabbing her eyes.

  Hunter glanced towards her husband, smiling herself, even though tears were forming upon her eyes. “I never told you, how hauntingly she plays; I’ve never heard music so wonderful, even when you took me to the many musicals, the many shows. She is wonderful, isn’t she?”

  Gabe nodded, the music speaking to his very soul. “I have never heard such a powerful pianist from one so young,” he agreed. “She is wonderful.”

  The few couples dancing upon the floor were lost in the music, transported to another world, a world of daring deeds, noble lords and ladies, love lost, unrequited, a lover forlorn and alone. Sadness and pain, but in the end, a slight hope, an awakening passion, pain easing to happiness, pain easing to joy.

  When Angel finally finished, her lithe fingers stilling upon the keys, it took her a long moment to awaken from the spell in which she had weaved upon herself and the audience, and it was only the sound of loud clapping from behind her and before her, that shook her of her reverie as she glanced up, everyone immensely touched by the haunting beauty of her musical words.

  It was with little wonder that the men called for an encore, and Angel happily obliged, this time instructing the musicians behind her into a happy, upbeat tune. She counted, “One, two, three,” and at first the violin and flute began playing, before she and the rest also joined, the music light and gay as the couples spun around. The men without a partner, merrily dancing with each other in good nature as Angel went through five more sets, before the crowd, and her, were wonderfully exhausted, sublimely happy and positively elated.

  No soul was left untouched by her music, the servants humming slightly in the other rooms, upbeat, many of the romancing couples finding a dark hallway to dance together and even the unusually stern housekeeper was seen, humming ever so slightly before a maid interrupted her gaiety.

  The audience roared with wonderment as Angel and the rest of the musicians stood, bowing and curtseying and then, the musicians beginning to applaud with the rest, honoring Angel as she smiled and curtseyed.

  When the applause finally died down, Angel swept away by the admiring crowd, it was Anthony and Asher who stayed rooted to their spots as if caught by a spell neither of them could shake.

  “Magnificent, isn’t she?” Were Anthony’s first words as he lifted the wine glass he had set down to applaud?

  Asher nodded, barely, staring at Anthony with hooded eyes. He’d not let that bastard within ten feet of Angel. “Stay away from her,” he said.

  Anthony smirked. “Why? Have you already staked your claim upon her, cousin? Come, now, you know how I am willing to share my women, as we have done in the past. This one can be no different…can she? She is exceedingly beautiful, I have never seen her like, alarmingly exotic.”

  He was deliberately goading Asher, learning fast what Asher had taught him. But Asher offered no smile, no words of amusement. He stared at his cousin, probably his closest if he would admit to himself, friend and uttered these sharp words: “If you touch her, I will see you dead.”

  Asher left him, left Anthony staring at him, before he lifted his lips in a daring smile; toasting Asher’s departing back before pressing the crowd to join Angel who was now speaking with Hunter, his cousin.

  “Cousin,” Anthony began, kissing Hunter upon the cheek as she smiled. “You are looking splendid, how is the little one?”

  “Wonderful, thank you, Anthony,” she said, returning his kiss. “Tell me if you enjoyed Angel’s music as much as I did and I will forgive you for missing the ball we threw for the brothers a short month ago.”

  Anthony turned powerful eyes upon Angel. “Of course, I would be a fool to deny the beauty of Ms. Barrett’s recital. You should of course, be playing in the largest rehearsal halls, you do know this, Ms. Barrett. Such talent as yours I have never heard.”

  “Why thank you, Mr. Hawthorne,” Angel returned, smiling and knowing he flirted wickedly with her as Hunter looked on with a small smile. It would do Asher good to see the many men at Angel’s disposal, perhaps even make him angry enough to lay claim upon her himself and leave the demons of his past to the grave where they belonged.

  Anthony turned back towards Hunter. “And, dear cousin, I submitted my letter of due grievance for having to miss the ball, which I still hear tale of. An astonishment that the brothers were all there and it was not even a death…or birth in the family. But I heard tale, also of how Asher refused the dance floor, as usual.”

  Hunter confided in Love. “Asher does not…no, I hate to say it, cannot dance, Angel, two left feet. So he stalks the floor, staring with deadly bore at the couples wishing he is long since gone to play poker or drink brandy or sprouting politics, or some such thing. Anything to get him away he makes an excuse for.”

  Angel smiled in amusement. And here she had thought Asher perfect; it was nice to know that he like everyone else had some type of flaw.

  “And you, Mr. Hawthorne, does two left feet run in the family or do you take well to the dance floor?”

  And Anthony smiled, giving her a seductive smile, one in which, she was sure he’d learned from his older cousin, Asher. “The only way to know…is to test me out, my lady, would you care to dance?” He ask
ed.

  And Angel nodded a waltz taking place, one in which Mr. Taylor, the hired pianist was leading. It was with no small notice that Angel’s playing greatly outdistanced Mr. Taylor, even though he was more than passable.

  The couple joined the others upon the dance floor, the two different family members mingling together happily with the birth of the new son and next earl.

  Asher had eyes for no one other than Angel. He was seriously contemplating castrating Anthony a fate worse than death; his threat had obviously fallen on dumb and deaf ears. No matter, the waltz was short, and this time his father, respectable man that he was danced with Angel, while Luke took his mother’s hand in another light quadrille, the music sadly missing the gaiety and emotion which the accomplished An gel had performed.

  Asher had been shocked and nearly shaken to the core by her music, as it felt as if she spoke directly to him with her fingers, the music filling the aching void in his soul a void which had never been touched by another.

  And so, now as he stared at her, he saw her with enlightened eyes, an artist in her own right, thinking of the fingers that touched him caressed his body could bring such enjoyment to him in other ways. He couldn’t wait for tonight.

  After the dance, his uncle Drake escorted her to the small refreshment bar set up, as she drank a glass of lemonade and spoke to him, Maria joining the two as Asher watched with lethal cat eyes.

  A voice at his side broke his moodiness.

  “If you stare at her any harder, my dear brother, I fear as if you shall ignite her in her very steps.”

  He grunted, knowing that Hunter was right, feeling like a fool for rendering Angel so much attention. “Good evening, little mother,” Asher said, already forming a nickname for his small sister which she detested. He loved to tease her, however, and met her flashing golden eyes as she grumbled at him.

  “The fact is, dear brother that I have noticed your eyes have not lifted from my best friend, all evening. Asher, please, for the sake of peace in this family, do not treat her callously, she deserves someone who will love her, treat her with respect, not someone-”