Embracing Ashberry

by Serenity Everton

  The question was solicitous and Ellie was grateful for his thoughtfulness. “Actually,” she murmured regretfully, “There is. I need to speak with Winters and Mrs. Shannon—and Banning, I forgot—before we leave and I thought to do it this afternoon.”

  The marquess nodded, standing and helping her from the bed. He took the time to shake out her skirts, knowing she blushed even as he performed the small task. “Just practicing,” he smiled wickedly until she turned away, her cheeks red.

  When she turned back and waved him out of the room, he retreated graciously, a smile on his face.

  * * * *

  Ellie dressed carefully for dinner, though she wasn’t quite sure why. The gown she chose wasn’t what she particularly wanted but most of her wardrobe had already left for Cumbria. It was lustrous, sunny yellow silk with an overskirt of loosely woven white lace. The yellow silk bodice was fitted high around her neck and had small pearl buttons that had to be fastened from neck to the vee-shaped waistline, and Ellie determined she would wear no jewelry to interfere with the rampant simplicity that shaped her curves so gracefully. Her hair, as well, was arranged simply, with her hairpins arranged in a pretty circle and the entire chignon covered by a lace cap she had made herself several years earlier. In fact, she thought critically as she looked in the mirror, there was hardly anything outstanding about it at all. Except for one touch that she hoped Ashberry would notice.

  He did, of course. The marquess came in the dressing room just as she was donning her gloves and his eyes lit with a smile as he surveyed her. “Very charming,” he pronounced, taking one hand in his and turning her in a circle. When she faced him again, his eyes had a proprietary twinkle that Ellie thought for certain to be a mixture of pride and desire. “And quite daring for you.”

  “You like it?” she asked innocently, for the yellow silk covered her neck, chest and back demurely, but the sleeves and shoulders were a delicate and transparent white silk chambray that ended at her wrists with embroidered yellow roses.

  “Very much,” he murmured, sliding his hand around her waist and guiding her through the suite. As they passed into the hall, he added, “I shall have to frown at my brothers all evening.”

  “Why?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.

  “For ogling my bride,” he returned, hardly joking.

  ELEVEN

  To his surprise, Ashberry was finding himself more and more protective of the girl and was quite astonished to discover that he didn’t wish to share her with his siblings. He dearly wanted her company, and only her company, for dinner that evening. Nevertheless, he did his duty and even managed a semi-intelligent conversation with his brothers, though he ate little and his eyes rarely strayed from the opposite end of the table.

  The idiocy of the four sharing a table meant for ten still did not escape him, though for once he was grateful that Ellie sat as far away as she did. He knew that he would have to touch the shoulders he could see gleaming beneath the silk and wondered if she had known he would be tempted by the gown. From the look on her face, with the lightness of her smile, as if the afternoon had never happened, he thought she might and hope spiraled inside him.

  Though he tamped it down viciously, her shy looks in his direction and her quick curtsy to him when she removed herself from the dining room fueled the fire within him.

  Luckily, his brothers weren’t interested in languishing around the table; in fact, he realized with a smile, none of the six Trinity siblings had observed the common ritual as religiously as most of their peers. En famille, they all had much preferred to surrender together to the lure of the library and games and the absence of Charlotte and Caroline from the table did not deter seem to deter his brothers from their preferred evening pastimes. With his mind on his bride and her preferences, after Sidney and Spencer mentioned cards, the marquess suggested the game Pope Joan.

  The suggestion drew a look of surprise from Sidney. “I thought you detested that game,” he mused.

  It was Spencer who guessed his eldest brother’s reasoning and the young man did not keep his thoughts to himself. “Perhaps Lady Ashberry likes it?” he asked with a smile.

  The marquess had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I thought she would know how to play it.”

  Spencer, the more exuberant and confident of the two, didn’t hesitate. He left the dining room and returned with Ellie on his arm. She was amused, for Ashberry could see her lips twitching, though he didn’t know what had been said until Spencer led her to Ashberry’s side and bowed. The mock motion was followed by, “My lord, may I present to you Lady Ashberry, who has graciously agreed to join us in a rousing game of speculation.”

  Ashberry’s brows rose slightly as he stood. “My good lady, such a dangerous game could hardly be your first preference. Wouldn’t a game of whist be more to your refined tastes?” he asked politely, following his brother’s example.

  Ellie smiled serenely, accepting Ashberry’s outstretched hand with her own. “My lord,” she murmured as he kissed her glove, “I’m afraid I should quite prefer something more challenging than a simple entertainment such as whist this evening.”

  Sidney, having risen as well, broke the spell. “You heard the lady, Ashberry. Speculation it is.”

  Ashberry waved the boys ahead of him, taking Ellie’s arm himself. “You do realize,” he said softly, “That my brothers are secretly and desperately practicing to become experts at the game?”

  Ellie smiled at him, a delightful twinkle in her eye that he found intoxicating. “I shall depend on you then,” she teased, “to be my banker.”

  Ashberry couldn’t help himself. “Did you know,” he asked, “that I charge an outrageous interest?”

  Ellie stopped before they entered the library, knowing the answer would be flirtatious, even wicked. Still, she couldn’t resist her answer. “And what would you require to support my evening’s entertainment, should I require a small loan to cover my losses?”

  The answer came to him even as he turned her to face him. “A kiss for every shilling.” He waited a few seconds before adding, “Every day.”

  Ellie cleared her throat, thinking that perhaps silence was the best course. When the inevitable flush covered her cheeks, she turned and entered the room where the twins were arranging a table at the far end. “We shall see,” she said only, over her shoulder, noting that Ashberry stayed close behind even though she moved quickly.

  The thought that he had no intention of letting her flee from his side brought a quick shiver to her spine and almost imperceptibly she accepted that she was able to engage his attentions. The company of Ashberry’s brothers gave her no time to mull over the awareness that suddenly flowed between them or consider why she was pleased by the notion that little, shy and unacceptable Ellie was attractive to her husband.

  Instead, the game passed with much laughter and teasing, between all four. It was quickly clear to Ellie that the marquess was the actual expert in the room. Both the twins lost a month’s allowance before Ashberry relented and lowered the ante to a shilling. Ellie held her own for quite awhile, at least until Sidney pulled out. When the chips before her began to disappear, she considered her husband. “I suppose,” she asked, “that you shall not do the gentlemanly thing and forgive my losses?”

  Spencer actually laughed. “My brother?”

  Sidney shook his head. “We can only afford to play this game with Ashberry once a year, my lady,” he explained. “Ashberry takes gambling quite seriously.”

  “It is my understanding that they are quite able to make up their losses tonight by engaging some of their companions in the game on some future evening. But at least they will know the true cost of the past time if they foolishly choose to play it with men who have more experience than they,” Ashberry murmured, catching the eye of each twin before meeting his wife’s interested gaze. “I believe, however, that you and I discussed my answer to the question before the game even started.”

>   “Ah yes,” Ellie remembered clearly. Quite deliberately, her eyes in contact at every second with her husband, she asked to borrow five shillings. The man couldn’t hide his smile as he slowly counted the coin. She lost it quickly, though not intentionally and only a few moments passed before she sighed and slid back her chair. “I’m afraid that I cannot play.”

  “You could borrow more,” Spencer advised.

  Ashberry cleared his throat, focusing on the table instead of his wife, for he knew she blushed even as she answered. “I don’t believe I will,” she murmured. “At least, not tonight. If you will excuse me,” she rose, “I am feeling a bit worn and would retire.”

  All the men stood, and Ashberry’s chest nearly crushed as she glided elegantly away. He told himself that it was hardly appropriate to follow her like a dog in heat, at least until Spencer rolled his eyes. “Go on,” he told his brother.

  The marquess did quickly, though he stopped first to collect his winnings from the table, ignoring his teasing siblings. Still, he managed to catch up to his wife before she passed into her dressing room. He stopped her with a slight touch to her elbow and only, “Ella.”

  She turned to him, eyes wide. “Yes?”

  “My interest?” he murmured, resting a hand on her waist and drawing her closer.

  Ellie’s mouth rounded for a moment before she replied, a little breathlessly. “But a day hasn’t gone by yet.”

  He smiled as his grasp on her waist firmed, watching her closely. “I charge in advance,” he whispered, his mouth capturing hers. Ellie’s eyes closed at the contact and she sighed when he drew back. The soft sound was welcoming so he returned for a second taste, pressing down until her mouth opened to accommodate him. He swallowed heavily when he drew back, but managed to whisper, “The other three I will defer, as long your credit remains good.”

  Ellie nodded, allowing him to escort her into the dressing room. She expected Carrie to be there but was surprised when Ashberry waved the maid away. “Lady Ashberry will call,” he told her, ignoring his wife’s confused look. Instead, he led her to the long mirror that graced one corner of the room and turning to face her, positioned them so that both could be seen in it, facing the other. Ellie waited, wondering until his hands began to slowly unfasten the buttons of her gown. His fingers trembled as he worked, especially when her chilly hands clenched against her skirts and she drew a deep breath, her breasts rising and falling in the suddenly still room.

  She clung to the thought of her corset and chemise below the silk, though the sleeveless garments would be little protection. When he slipped her arms from the sleeves and allowed the front of the dress to fall behind her, baring her neck, shoulders and collarbone, she was almost disappointed for he paid no attention. Instead, almost so reverently that she could hardly stand it, he knelt before her, unfastening the layers of skirts until they, too, fell to the floor. Only then did he draw away, his eyes roving her white undergarments with the intense scrutiny she now recognized easily. When his gaze focused on her bare shoulders and collarbone, Ellie shivered, for he seemed able to see every texture and crevice.

  Finally, he moved closer, his hands out until he rested them on her shoulders, slowly sliding them down her arms and to her suddenly nerveless hands. Returning to her face, he traced her jawbone with his thumbs then lower down each side of her neck. His index fingers traced her collarbone, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “You teased me tonight,” he finally said, his thumbs stroking her skin, “by showing me your dress, then the card game. You didn’t have to borrow those few shillings.”

  “Yes,” she agreed softly. Ashberry closed his eyes and steeled his body at her admission, for she seemed to have no instinct for survival and he knew it would be only his control that would protect her.

  “Why?” he had to ask, though Ashberry dreaded her answer. His body was aching and hard, from temples to toes. When she didn’t answer, he ground out slowly, “You don’t even know?”

  “I guess I don’t,” she admitted softly. “I, I thought at first to please you, at the beginning, I mean.”

  “You did,” he grunted as he tried to reason through her behavior. He dared not consider the explanations that his body most readily advocated and his head could hardly swim through the rush they created in his blood, so he stepped back, biting down hard on his tongue.

  The pain on his face was so apparent that Ellie felt a chill go through her. Her eyes widened as she whispered, “I didn’t know. I thought you would enjoy it—”

  He shook his head. “I do. Enjoy it,” he said roughly.

  “It hurts you,” she whispered, her chin trembling.

  “No,” he denied, taking her shoulders in his hands again. Forcefully, his eyes burning, he told her, “It isn’t pain. Not like that.”

  She had to accept his word. Ellie had no other alternative. She nodded, though a bit uncertain, for the raw emotion in the room was unnerving. She found it difficult to think with his hands on her bare skin and his eyes demanding her attention. Their depths sparked yellow and Ellie drew a sharp breath.

  The kiss came almost before she could exhale. Ashberry seemed to swoop, his mouth hard and uncompromising and Ellie felt her body drawn from the floor and up into his embrace. His arms were hard and supportive, his mouth forcing hers open with little patience.

  Overwhelmed, she acquiesced until his tongue forged deeply into her mouth, taking all her breath and then plunging further until Ellie whimpered.

  Ashberry heard the sound through the haze surrounding his head and he jerked away from her, disgusted with his behavior. He turned away, closing his eyes and crossing the room.

  From that distance, he breathed deeply, bottling his desires.

  In the silence, Ellie felt bereft, alone. Cold. Her hand helplessly went to her mouth, touching the lips that he had so taken as his own. She was amazed, too, for even now she felt no remorse, no anxiety. On the contrary, she objected to herself, if she hadn’t known that it would unfailingly lead to other waters she was not quite ready to tread then she wouldn’t have wanted him to stop.

  “I apologize, Ellie,” Ashberry finally spoke.

  His voice was sorrowful, pained, and Ellie’s stomach clenched. More than anything, she knew it was important that he should not misunderstand her response. Without thought to her lack of dress or to his still heated body, she moved to stand just behind him. “Turn around,” she said quietly, unafraid. “Look at me, please.”

  Ashberry’s heart beat mightily. He was still cursing himself, convinced that he had ruined all the progress they had made in the last week. Convinced she was about to berate him for his abominable behavior, he turned slowly, a reluctant child ready to be scolded for stealing a sweet.

  Instead, he found Ellie with her jaw squared and her eyes serious. The words came swiftly and somewhat indignantly, as if he had unknowingly annoyed her instead of intimidated her. “Listen to me and listen well, for I refuse to have this conversation again. You do not frighten me and you have not hurt me. You in no way remind me of what happened to me in the past. Do not ever apologize to me for acting like my husband, Stephen Ashberry.”

  Her words seared him—shocked him. “You whimpered,” he replied softly, one finger reaching out to touch her bottom lip.

  “I am unused to such intimacy,” she answered defensively, her cheeks reddening. “I was ... surprised.”

  “Your lips are swollen.” The words were still regretful but without the agony Ellie had heard in his first apology.

  She swallowed hard, knowing the words had to be said, knowing they would be difficult even as she said them. “Ashberry, you are a good man and I trust you, even with me. But sometimes you make me feel, feel things I’ve never felt and things I don’t recognize. If a little swelling in my lips is a part of what it means to be your wife in the way you want me to be then I will gladly be part of it.” Her arm touched his, and he saw and heard the fervent determination in her voice. “I am the one who has caused pai
n here, for you are hurting every day and tonight I made it worse for you. I promise you, I shall not tease you again.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, I should be most disappointed if you did not,” he said after a few moments, his voice strangely soft. He sighed deeply before speaking again, “Call Carrie and go to bed, Ella. We’ll have plenty of time to talk after tomorrow.”

  She bit her lip, a charming uncertainty on her face. “You will stay with me tonight?”

  He hesitated but nodded. “Late. I have some things to finish downstairs.” He didn’t remind her that Edward planned to stop at the house. She had seemingly forgot the afternoon’s episode and he had no desire to remind her of it.

  “Goodnight Stephen,” she whispered.

  “Goodnight, dearest.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, Ellie's last in London, passed quickly. Her mother arrived nearly too early for anyone to sanction, even Alexander, who appeared quite dour as he announced the Lady and admitted her to Ellie’s sitting room. Still in her dressing gown, Ellie was pleased to see that her mother appeared to be well rested. “Edward brought me to see you,” she explained. “I thought Charlotte and Caroline might be here through the afternoon.”

  Ellie nodded, directing her mother to a chair so that Carrie could finish her hair. The conversation was not unusual, for the two discussed Ellie’s brothers. Richard would depart soon for Cambridge and John was to soon begin a position in the Foreign Ministry. He had already been searching for bachelor quarters near St. James and Ellie's mother reported that the previous day he had found a place he particularly liked. After Ellie’s impending travel plans were discussed and Ellie was dressed, the two made their way to the morning room. Only then did Ellie’s mother discuss the previous day.

  “I can’t predict your father anymore, Ellie. He is being completely unreasonable.”