Embracing Ashberry

by Serenity Everton

  “Thank you,” she murmured, turning so that he could see two of the beautiful flowers he had sent to her rooms that morning.

  He nodded, ushering her into the dining room at Alexander’s signal. The butler had observed Ashberry's preference after that first dinner together and set Ellie’s place beside his lord’s at the head of the table, but even when they had taken their seats Ashberry did not speak.

  They were well into the meal before he said carelessly, “I hope you enjoyed the blooms.” The rarity and abundance of the blooming flowers had astonished her and his dismissal of them was amusing. “I thought you should have something fragrant to enjoy,” he told her, “So I asked Adams to put something special together for you.”

  The blossoms’ scents mingling in the air were a heady combination, a combination Ellie felt was calming, invigorating. “I shall have to thank him,” she said easily, planning to speak with the gardener the next day.

  He looked at her, his eyes raking her from forehead to breasts in a blatant, assessing gaze that Ellie found to be particularly possessive. For some unknown reason, she was pleased by the appraising examination and his words, uttered with the slightest bit of boyish petulance, made smiling irresistible. “He had me pay a small fortune for them, you know.”

  “Then I shall endeavor to find a way to thank you as well,” she said sweetly. Her body seemed strangely awake this evening, she thought to herself, attributing the sensations to Ashberry. She took several minutes to decide that she liked it before asking, “Do you plan to go out this evening?”

  He looked at her as if she was daft until she smiled in return, when his eyes widened in an astonished smile. “No, my dear, you have not driven me from my own home yet,” he murmured quietly. “Though if you continue to ask such silly questions I shall consider the option.” He took a bite before suggesting, “I thought I might teach you to play billiards tonight?”

  Ellie did not remind him that she had three brothers and no sisters. Instead, she offered only, “That might be interesting.”

  Three hours later, Ashberry stood against the wall in the billiards room and watched his wife lean over and position herself before knocking three balls expertly into a pocket. Her bottom perked unconsciously beneath the dress in an alluring curve that had continually distracted him. He might have been tempted to call her a lucky shot, except that she had already beaten him twice. Ashberry remembered, amused suddenly, his introductory ‘lesson’ to her when they had stepped into the room. She had waited patiently while the marquess had positioned himself behind her, his hands sliding over hers. He had breathed against her ear as she had taken the shot. It had been so misdirected that he thought he would need to repeat the lesson, but time had proven him wrong. She had been disturbed only by his presence close behind her and somehow he was not displeased by the inadvertent information she provided.

  He moved behind her again, smiling when she turned around quickly. “You tricked me,” he murmured, backing her against the table. Her hands gripped the edge for support but she remained straight, refusing to bend backward when he stepped so close that she was forced to tip her head back to meet his gaze.

  Her eyes dared to twinkle a bit. “Billiards is not considered an accomplishment to which any lady aspires,” she finally returned.

  Ashberry leaned down until their noses touched. “It seems to me,” he told her, “That it is essential when you have a husband who enjoys the game very much and no one else at home to entertain him.”

  “You do not mind?” she asked seriously. “Papa was furious when he found out the boys had taught me to play. He said it was not a lady’s game.”

  The marquess smiled, backing down and taking her by the arm. “Your parents live by much more traditional rules than I made for myself,” he told her as they made their way through the house. “Perhaps your father was right,” he mused, “But we shall never know.”

  Ellie laughed. “Your sisters taught me something today,” she told him seriously. “though they did not know it.”

  “Heaven help me,” he sighed, “What did they tell you?”

  “All kinds of things,” she admitted, before explaining, “But what I learned from it all was that you had a sense of humor.” They began to climb the stairs as she added, “I hadn’t known it. I suppose not telling you I knew how to play was my way of finding out if your good humor extended to me.”

  Ashberry laughed the laugh of a man truly amused. “And I discovered that it does,” he admitted, stopping and kissing her ear in the middle of the staircase. “Although my sisters, you realize,” he warned, “Have known me their whole lives. They have already found what I am amused by and what I am not.”

  The pair arrived at her sitting room door before she found the right reply. “Then I shouldn’t mention,” she said sweetly just as she opened the dressing room door, “That incident involving you and a pail of slop left in the stable?”

  Despite Wendy, despite laughter forming in his chest, he stood tall and stared her down. “That,” he emphasized the first word, “Was not in the least bit funny.”

  Ellie shrugged her shoulders, breezing over to her maid. “Are you sure?” she turned back and asked him sweetly as Wendy began to unfasten the small buttons that closed her gown.

  Ashberry couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his lips. “No,” he admitted before turning the tables. His eyes raked over her as the gown began to loosen. He waited, a knowing and proprietary look on his face as Ellie began to worry that he would not leave. She shifted uncomfortably, blushing when he said quietly, “Just remember that I can tease as well.”

  Only when Wendy began to ease the gown down over her arms did he turn away, throwing over his shoulder as he left, “Wendy, you do an incredible job of making my wife quite irresistible.”

  Ellie tried to frown when Wendy giggled but she failed miserably. Instead, she considered the words, turning them over in her mind again and again until they seemed to settle inside her. Still considering, she dismissed the maid and doused the candles before showing herself into the bedroom. Ashberry was not there so she got into bed, watching the fire for a moment before extinguishing the candle beside her bed.

  Ashberry waited precisely thirty minutes, during which he undressed and stared moodily out into the street. He was grateful when he found her asleep, taking several minutes to arrange the blankets around her. Almost reverently, he traced the lines of her nose and brows before gently kissing the corner of her mouth. He turned to leave her but stopped before he reached the door. Instead of returning to his chamber, he made his way to the fireside chair and settled into it, his eyes firmly fixed on the crackling fire.

  Her voice woke him, except that it was incoherent, anxious. He sat up abruptly, a moment passing before he realized that she was dreaming. “Please help me,” she whimpered and Ashberry felt his body wrench from the pain that rammed through him. His hands shaking, he nearly ran to the bed and placed one knee on its edge, watching her curl in quiet anguish beneath the covers. “It hurts so much,” she sobbed.

  The marquess could not help his actions. He threw back the blanket and lifted her into his arms. She didn’t wake but turned to him, her quiet sobs forming against his chest. He managed to grab the coverlet in one fist, dragging it behind them as he carried her to the chair.

  He wrapped the blanket around them both, cradling her in his lap. Ashberry was surprised that she didn’t wake but was grateful that she calmed against him. He stroked her hair and held her for a long time, until the warmth and softness of her body lulled him into sleep.

  NINE

  Ellie dared not move. She didn’t know how she had come to be held on her husband’s lap, or why the coverlet from her bed covered them both. She especially didn’t know why she was dressed only in the shimmering and nearly translucent negligee her mother had given her for her wedding night. The stain removed, Wendy had produced it the night before, but Ellie distinctly remembered climbing into her bed and blowing out the ca
ndle. Ashberry had not been there. With a bit of surprise, Ellie realized she had slept through the night. The familiar memories that crowded her sleeping hours were dimmer, the familiar raw ache eased by a prevalent comfort if also a stiffer back.

  Only when Ashberry’s arms tightened around her did she know he was awake. She lifted her head only to find his eyes on hers, his arms cradling her gently to him. One of his hands splayed possessively across her back, the other arm pulled her closer against him, the hand pushing against her thigh. “Do you have nightmares every night?” he asked softly, resting his chin on the top of her head.

  The question surprised her. “You didn’t know before?” she asked.

  “You were very quiet. I wouldn’t have heard you, except—” He stopped, remembering suddenly that he had spent all night in the chair that held them both. “Except that I was sitting here in the chair,” he finally admitted.

  Ellie didn’t know what to say, except maybe that his hands were warmer than she’d ever thought before or that his body was firmer than she’d ever imagined. “I—I’m sorry I disturbed you,” she murmured, wiggling to move off of his lap.

  The marquess didn’t allow it. If anything, he held her closer, his grip tightening. “Don’t squirm,” he ordered softly. “I need to think.”

  Ellie stilled, until he asked, “Did you remember me being here? Last night?”

  She shook her head, laying her head against his shoulder. The simple act of submission struck him and he gathered her still closer, rubbing one hand along her spine and clasping her waist with the other. Her knees were perched on the chair arm with her feet dangling over the edge but she didn’t seem to mind. The warmth of her had stimulated all of his senses but at least for this morning, he had shackled in his urges. The marquess was too focused on the welfare of his bride to attend to his own wants.

  Finally, he spoke to her softly, “You asked me to help you.”

  She considered the words, wondering how much to tell him. Ellie concluded there was no reason to deny the entirety of it, though she had no words to describe the actual events.

  “Edward found me first. I was still a little conscious and I looked up and saw him there. I, I think he thought I was dead. So I asked him to help me.”

  Avoiding his eyes, she swallowed. “After that, I only have flashes of memories. Mostly I remember blood all over him, both of us. He carried me inside the manor. My mother was screaming, I think. Someone let the dogs out because I could hear them barking. Edward told me later that they were useless—the scent of my blood made them crazy.” She was quiet for a moment before she continued. “They told me later that John and Papa took their guns and some of the men from the farms and the house and went looking for him. My brother Richard, he was only twelve but he had the most sense of anyone, I guess. He didn’t tell anyone where he went but took a horse and alone rode for the nearest doctor, ten miles away.”

  Her eyes fixed on the ashes in the fireplace, she continued, her voice soft. “Fields had to restrain Mama because she tried to shake me awake. Most of the staff had already been let go, you know, because we were to leave for London that same morning.”

  Ellie stopped abruptly, remembering suddenly her Papa’s repeated warnings the last two years. She wondered anxiously if he had been as wrong about that as he had about anyone being willing to marry her, then hurriedly apologized to him in her thoughts. Papa, Ellie told herself, hadn’t known the Marquess of Ashberry existed.

  That man didn’t give her much choice. “Tell me the rest of it, Ella,” he said doggedly, his eyes closed.

  She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t remember any more,” she tried to deter him.

  “But you know what happened.” His voice gentled, though she could still detect a glimmer of the granite that laced it. “Trust me, Ella.”

  Finally she nodded. “After Mama tried to shake me, Edward wouldn’t let anyone else touch me. He, he was the one who cleaned my wounds, who applied the poultices and the bandages. I probably would have bled to death if he hadn’t taken charge.”

  Ashberry was silent for a moment before he asked, his voice gently probing. “Why did you not want to tell me that?”

  She swallowed heavily, her hands clasped together in her lap. “When you see the scars, you’ll know why,” she whispered. “He saw things that brothers don’t see. He touched ... places that brothers aren’t supposed to think about, know about.” She choked back a sob as she defended her sibling. “He, he didn’t feel as if he had any choice, since I was unconscious ... and bleeding to death. There wasn’t a woman in the house who wasn’t in shock or trying to keep Mama from hurting me more.” She sobbed a little, shuddering. “You didn’t know that when you let him marry Charlotte.”

  Ashberry closed his eyes. He understood now why Edward was the protective sibling. “It wouldn’t have mattered,” he whispered into her hair, forcing himself to think of Charlotte and Caroline, imagining how he himself would have behaved if such a thing had happened to one of them.

  “Why not?” she replied, her whisper just as soft.

  “He saved your life, Ellie. I will thank him for it when I see him.” His words were tender with emotion as he spoke against her hair. The silken mass was beginning to loosen from the long simple braid that hung down her back. He found the end and began to unwind it, his fingers untwisting and smoothing the locks.

  “Papa says he shouldn’t have done it, that it was improper, that no one could ever find out. I know he’d do it again if he had to but he swore to Papa he would never tell anyone what happened.”

  Ashberry’s question was serious, for Society could turn the horror into a sensationalized scandal if Ellie’s nightmare ever came to light. “Who else knew that Edward cared for you?” he asked quietly.

  “Fields, he restrained Mama from making it worse, he’s now our butler. Papa insisted he come to Europe with us and Mama pays him very well. He’s very loyal to her. My mother’s maid, she helped Edward burn what was left of my clothes and carried water while Edward was cleaning my wounds. And my governess, it was to be her last day, you see, but she ended up staying as my nurse for several months once she stopped passing out every time she saw my wounds.” She sighed. “The nanny, I suppose, must have known but Papa had already dismissed her, though she hadn’t left the house yet. Richard was to join John and his tutor and leave the nursery when we arrived in London.”

  Ellie grimaced before adding, “Papa took them both to Europe too. My governess is still there, in Italy with Lord and Lady Daregate and their baby. Papa said they would not be returning to London until next year. The nanny married some French merchant in Marseilles. And the doctor, I suppose he knows too.”

  Ashberry kissed her hair, his fingers tangling in the now unbraided locks. It was still early and he had no desire to move, except that Ellie’s warmth and lack of dress were beginning to penetrate his compassion. As for the doctor, he knew the man’s silence could be guaranteed. His solicitor had already begun arranging for the man’s emigration to Canada. “I wouldn’t worry about anyone discovering that secret and I am glad that you told me.”

  “And your sister?” she asked worriedly, her nose pressed against his shoulder.

  “If something as devastating ever happened to her, I know she’d be in excellent care,” he whispered, his fingers stroking the outside edge of her ears. “As to your secret, I suppose your brother hasn’t told her, given his vow of silence on the matter.”

  “No,” she whispered. “I suppose not. He told me before the wedding that I was still his sister and that if I needed anything, he would take care of it.” She looked up at him, earnestly. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to keep these secrets about me. He adores Charlotte, you know, and would do nearly anything for her—”

  He smiled and stopped her by placing a single fingertip against her lips. His respect for Edward had jumped several notches in the last weeks, but particularly in the last half hour.

  “I will pay a
call on my brother-in-law today and let him know that you have shared this secret with me,” Ashberry said simply. “Be certain that I am as interested in my sister’s happiness as much as you wish to assure your brother’s. If he wishes for her to know or if someday she has to be told, I will make it known that we have no objections.”

  Ashberry did not join her for breakfast as she thought he might. Instead, he left a message with Alexander, scrawled in his large hand. In addition to information relating to the arrival that afternoon of Sebastian, Spencer and Sidney from Harlan Chase, he suggested that Ellie might start packing her trunks for the wagons to take north. “Wendy will be leaving with the wagons in two days’ time, on Monday at dawn,” he wrote, “With Peter, Jules and Darrin.”

  Ellie knew the wagons would travel more slowly than the coach. They would need nearly two days more on the road to arrive, so Ashberry planned to send them ahead. She wondered briefly why two footmen and a manservant would be sent as well but then remembered Winters words at the beginning of the week about the marquess using the house staff as couriers. “Alexander, Griffin and Benjamin will travel with us.” The note ended abruptly, with no signature or farewell but Ellie was not displeased.

  Her stomach fluttered as she imagined the meeting between Ashberry and her brother but she determined to ignore it. He had been exceedingly gentle when he had finally allowed her to stand on the rug before the fire. The coverlet had been wrapped closely around her, leaving him to the chill of the room but he had sent her off to the dressing room before even standing. The image of him in his robe, rumpled from the night, stuck in her mind as she stopped for a moment and wrote a brief reply to his note, laying it carefully on the seat of his chair.

  Ashberry returned to the house shortly after two, nodding to the butler as he came into the house. “Her ladyship?” he asked, smiling when he heard that her trunks were being packed and that she had conscripted the menservants to help. He escaped to his study, guessing that he would only be a hindrance upstairs and was surprised to find a piece of foolscap folded neatly and set in his chair.