Embracing Ashberry

by Serenity Everton

  Lady Whitney sighed, noting that her son-in-law had just appeared in the doorway, in time to hear her daughter’s words. Without giving Ellie any indication that the marquess listened to their conversation, she did her best to gently alleviate what she was sure would be disappointment later. “Child, Ashberry may not have a choice; he is not omnipotent—”

  Ashberry knew even as her mother spoke that the lady had no intention of announcing his presence. Ellie’s earnest encouragement had warmed his soul, though, uplifted him. Her next words had an even stronger impact, perhaps because they were softer, more reasoned, but bolstered by what he could only describe as unquestioned loyalty. Her tone impassioned, she broke in, “Mama, you do not know the marquess at all if you think he will not be able to stop Papa. He will help you not because I wish for him to, but because he is a strong and compassionate man to, to everyone.” Her voice softened. “He is the strongest man I have ever met, and not just in his body but also in his heart.”

  Lady Whitney nearly lifted her head and gave him away while Ashberry tried to remember to breathe. Instead, she said softly, “You have so much faith, Ellie, so much to look forward to in life.” Her face grave, she added, “I have lived with your father for twenty-seven years, Ellie. I will survive him and this week and remain myself.”

  Ashberry sighed and stepped boldly into the room. He did not wish to hear Lady Whitney try to defend her husband, as the dignified woman was sure to do. Ellie’s face flew to his as his boots clipped over the floor. He knelt, assisting her to stand. “I’m afraid I have come on an unfortunate errand,” he apologized.

  He heard Ellie’s deep breath but could not look at her. He concentrated on Lady Whitney, who raised graciously from her seat, a lady as she always was. “It is time for you to go, no?” she asked wisely. Ashberry nodded regretfully, kissing the back of her hand.

  “My apologies for taking Ellie away so soon after you’ve arrived,” he murmured politely. “It’s simply that I wish to arrive at Harlan Chase before nightfall.” He glanced at his wife. “Today will be the longest of all the days.”

  The woman nodded soberly, quickly hugging Ellie. “You will take good care of her?”

  Ashberry smiled at the girl, taking her hand between his. “You may depend on it, my lady,” he promised. “You remember how to reach Edward, or I, should you need anything at all?”

  Lady Whitney nodded, her face sober. “Even if I am dragged kicking and screaming back to Whitney,” she said quite seriously, “Fields will help me. He nearly left when Edward took me away, you know, but Edward convinced him that we needed him to stay where he was for the moment.”

  The marquess nodded. He did not wish to delay he and Ellie’s departure, so he stepped back and allowed the two women to embrace, drawing Ellie close to him as they left the room. He wiped the tears from her cheeks before he walked down the stairs with her, speaking a few final words to Winters. She said nothing until they were safely in the carriage, the door shut and latched, and the horses were called forward.

  Her question was heartfelt, earnest. “You will take care of her?”

  Ashberry met her eyes steadily from the opposite seat, nodding even as he answered. “You know I will.”

  Ellie bit her lip for a moment. “I know,” she whispered. “It just seems so ... cruel to leave her like that, alone.”

  “It is the safest thing for her, you know,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t be surprised, Ella, if we were overtaken on the way.”

  Ellie drew a sharp breath. “You think he will look for her with us?”

  The marquess nodded. “If he does, it will be today.” He shook his head. “Ellie, you must remember, you know nothing of this. If we are stopped, I will speak to them and allow them to look into the carriage, but if they insist on speaking to you, you must for all the world be a pretty and carefree bride, and horrified to discover in such a way that your mother has fled her husband.”

  Ellie swallowed heavily and closed her eyes for a moment. “Of course,” she whispered. “If I must.”

  Ashberry grimaced inwardly, then moved to sit beside her. He slid an arm around her and drew her against his side. Ellie didn’t hesitate but leaned against him, resting her head against the side of his chest. “Rest, Ellie,” he told her quietly as he removed her bonnet and set it on the opposite seat, pressing his other hand to her head. “I will be here.”

  The lulling words and Ellie’s early morning made it difficult for her to resist his directions. Tentatively, she closed her eyes, surprised to find how easy it was to rest against his side. With a final, grateful thought to the man beside her, she slid into slumber.

  When she woke, he let her sit up, blinking her eyes. “How long did I sleep?” she asked, looking out the window. London had passed and they were in open countryside, the distant farms passing on each side.

  Ashberry smiled. “Two hours,” he relaxed, pleased by her nap. Ellie turned to him, a question in her face. “You look more rested now, less anxious, even if you are slightly rumpled.”

  “A certain sign I’ve been sleeping,” Ellie mused.

  “Nonsense,” Ashberry objected, a smile on his face that Ellie now recognized. She sat straighter, a little more aware as he slid closer, forcing her over on the seat until her back was against the side of the carriage. He slid one hand behind her neck, sliding his fingers into her hair and with the other pulled the ribbon that held it in place, tumbling the locks down around her shoulders. He lowered his head until her breathing quickened and her mouth opened just slightly, then pressed his mouth down to hers.

  Ellie shivered as her eyes fluttered closed. The bouncing of the coach made the gentle contact of their lips uneven, a moment of contact followed by a quick intake of air. Ashberry’s hands tightened on the back of her head and he deepened the kiss, ending the teasing, until Ellie gripped Ashberry’s upper arms for support. The sizzle of it warmed the air around them, charged her.

  Ashberry felt as if the world was stopped around them, though the jarring of the carriage indicated otherwise. Her hands on his coat sleeves were clutching him, not pushing away, and her mouth was open, eager even. His hands slid down her back, over the pelisse and around her waist until she raised her hands to clasp his shoulders. He felt his body shudder and before he knew his own mind found her settled on his lap, leaning against his arm and shoulder.

  He stopped the kiss but did not move her, simply watched as her eyes fluttered open and she drew a slow breath. With his free hand, he unfastened her pelisse, revealing the gown beneath. His voice a mere rumble between them, he touched the button at her neck. “I bought you this one,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

  Ashberry shook his head, a smile on his face. “No, you are, Ella.” Before she even knew it, he had unfastened the buttons of the jacket, spreading it open. The blouse below it was simple, unadorned and Ashberry traced the rounded neckline ran just below Ellie’s collarbone. She shivered in his arms, shifting a little on his lap. His head lowered, and Ellie gasped as he pressed a kiss to the base of her neck.

  Through her blouse and chemise, she could feel his hand cup her side, the pressure of his gloved fingers curling into her waist. Suddenly she felt vulnerable in the cool air of the carriage, for just below her chin her nipples were starting to harden in the chill. Ashberry did not seem to notice, though, for his mouth moved upward over her neck, until she tilted her head away from him and he pressed his mouth deeply against the crevice below her ear. When he drew back, her eyes were glazed and her breathing shaky.

  He seemed ready to speak but a sharp rap from the coachman’s seat stopped him. Carefully, he moved Ellie to the seat in the corner, closing the pelisse over her open jacket and tucking a blanket around her. After a quick word with Benjamin, the coachman, the carriage began to slow. As it pulled to a stop, Ashberry stepped to the door, dropping a quick kiss to Ellie’s head. “Rumpled,” he whispered, “Can mean many things, and to me it means s
weet kisses and an incredibly lovely wife who I do not believe I will ever stop thinking about.” At her blush, he added, “Your red cheeks are adorable, Ella dear.”

  Ellie drew a sharp breath as he opened the curtain before he jumped out. The riders were clearly on urgent business and they stated their purpose quickly. Ashberry seemed impatient with them, but she could not hear most of his words. She did, however, see him gesture indignantly at the carriage. As they stepped closer, she heard him say heatedly, “I will be discussing this matter with the Prime Minister.”

  The leader, apparently the magistrate or at least his deputy, appeared uncomfortable as he folded down the steps and climbed up on them. He started to open the door, but looked through the window, stopping abruptly when he saw Ellie’s tousled head and wide eyes, the blanket tucked over her. He swallowed, and even Ellie could hear the uncertain stumble to his words. “My apologies, my lord, I can see that, that the, that Lady Whitney is not with you.”

  “As I assured you she was not,” the marquess retorted.

  The man retreated, clearly cowed while the marquess forcefully raised the carriage step. With an impatient motion, the coachman Benjamin climbed back up on the seat while the other two men questioned Alexander and Griffin. They shook their heads doubtfully at the questions, seeming to know nothing of the subject being discussed. Ellie breathed a sigh of relief when the leader of the three, the one who had peered into the carriage, pulled the two back, shaking his head. She could not hear the words he said to them, but when he turned to the marquess, she could tell he was uttering a respectful apology for delaying their journey.

  The three riders departed on their return ride to London almost immediately, as Alexander climbed up on the seat. Ashberry waited until the three had disappeared over the horizon before he came to the carriage door and opened it, looking up at Ellie. “Everything’s fine, Ella,” he told her with a smile. His eyes were twinkling. “We gave an excellent imitation of a newlywed couple.”

  The flush that covered Ellie’s cheeks were unmistakable, and Ashberry’s smile turned to a foolish and unapologetic grin. “I thought,” she said primly, “That you were a bit hard on that man.”

  He raised his brows. “I didn’t want you to have to speak to him,” he said, satisfied. “And the poor sap clearly was mortified when he saw you, for he is no fool. He knew I had been indulging myself a bit.” The red on Ellie’s cheeks was priceless in its charm but Ashberry relented after a moment. “Actually, he was a rather good magistrate. He didn’t take me at my word simply because of my title and wealth but he didn’t humiliate you either. I would send my commendations if I hadn't threatened to have his job.” He breathed deeply. “I think I will ride for a couple of hours, until we stop to refresh the horses, if you don’t mind the solitude.”

  Ellie shook her head. “Go ahead,” she said gently. She waited until the door had closed again and the carriage moved forward before she took the blanket from around her. With trembling fingers, she drew a looking glass from her bag and surveyed her face in the mirror, noting the trembling of her lips and the curls that fell around her face, the ruddy color in her cheeks, the disarray of her bodice. After a few moments of contemplation, she sat the mirror away and took a deep breath, fastening her jacket, closing her pelisse and returning her hair to a simple style she could manage without a maid or pins. Even as she pulled her needlework from her bag, her eyes were thoughtful, as if she was debating a great decision.

  Indeed, she was debating a great decision. Ellie knew it, progressing little on the needlework as she alternately stared at her hands and out the window. The rest of the day’s travel passed without incident, even as Ellie convinced herself that taking her fate in her own hands would be infinitely preferable to driving herself into an anxious fit over the inevitable.

  Unknowingly, Ashberry gave her plenty of time to come to the decision, choosing the saddle for much of the day over the jarring of the carriage.

  When he did choose her company over the mares he had purchased in London, the marquess would read quietly beside her. They would sit close, the blankets keeping both warm, but other than a familiar and comforting touch to her hand or cheek, nothing of significance passed between them. At midday, they dined in a small tavern while the coach horses were changed and the mares watered and fed. Ashberry led his wife to a table in a corner of the public room, grateful that she had covered her head with a modest bonnet, for the company in the tavern was not the most refined he had ever seen. The servants sat one table past them, all three constantly watching around them.

  Ashberry told Ellie quietly that he expected to see a courier from Edward arrive at Harlan Chase before they departed the next morning with whatever news he had. She nodded graciously, smiling at him with a smile so confident that Ashberry was startled.

  As the afternoon sun began to sink, Ellie watched from the carriage window when they turned from the main road. The winter day had not been long, but they had traveled nearly ten hours already that day and Ellie’s body was beginning to ache. Ahead of the carriage, she saw a rider break away. The length of the coat flying behind it told Ellie that it was Griffin who rode ahead to announce their arrival but she was hardly surprised that Ashberry didn’t return to the coach. She looked around her, wondering where the farms of Harlan Chase began but her question did not take long to answer. When the carriage passed the last field and entered the forest, she smiled, for the road suddenly improved to such a degree that Benjamin quickened the horses and the trees flew past them. As they passed through the wood, she sighed, for the open clearing was surrounded on all sides by forest. In the center sat the house at Harlan Chase, with every window lit as a beacon.

  Ashberry didn’t hesitate when the carriage stopped. He knew Ellie would be waiting, and as the door to the house opened, revealing Griffin and several others Ellie did not know, the marquess dismounted quickly and swept open the door to the carriage, leaving the staff to care for his horse. Before Alexander could climb down from the coachman’s seat, he lifted Ellie into his arms, carrying her all the way to the front steps before setting her down.

  “Welcome to Harlan Chase, my lady,” he murmured in her ear.

  It didn’t take Ellie long to discover that the housekeeper was the only other woman in the house that night. She brought in day maids, local girls, from the village to supplement the staff but sent them home at night, as she said, ‘to their mamas.’ The marquess and Sebastian kept nearly no staff at the Chase besides the kindly woman, named Mrs. Arden, a cook to feed the occasional visitor, a game and groundskeeper and a single footman.

  The footman was quickly called upon to carry water for the marchioness’ bath. Ellie found the housekeeper to be cheery and patient as the older woman assisted her, and quite willing to talk admiringly of the Trinity family.

  When Ellie settled into the bath, the woman took Ellie’s gown away to freshen it. Carefully, the soap lathered thickly on her cloth, Ellie washed herself from toes to ears, breathing deeply the soapy aroma. Considering, her fingers traced the scars over her middle, scraping her navel with the nail. When she finished, she rose from the bath and dried herself, wrapping her velvet peignoir over her bare skin.

  She sat at the dressing table for several minutes, staring in the large glass. Almost reverently, she reached above her, loosing her hair from its knot as she considered the decision she had made during the day and how best to tell Ashberry without feeling humiliated. She felt certain that climbing into bed in a revealing negligee would not do the deed that night—given there was only one bed, the marquess was certain to misconstrue her presence in his bed for the practical benefits of resting comfortably and dreamlessly.

  Harlan Chase wasn’t a fancy house, the furniture functional and well-made but not ornate. The walls were beautiful if simplicity was in fashion and everything gleamed with care. It was, Ellie decided, a pleasant house, though it seemed to be waiting, in hibernation, until its owners returned to give it life. The house was shape
d like a cross, with the massive top-lit main staircase in the center. The lord and lady’s apartments were at the far end on the first floor, where she and the marquess shared a sitting room and bedchamber, though both had a large dressing room, and Ashberry had a study that was attached to the sitting room. The arrangement was much more private, though much smaller, than at Ashberry House in London, and it was while inspecting the apartment that Ellie decided how she could make her choice unmistakable to her husband.

  Returning to her dressing room, Ellie took her time arranging her curls on her head, letting several spring against her shoulders. When she finished, she discarded her dressing gown and moved with purpose to where the housekeeper had laid out her clothing for dinner. Hardly breathing, she drew the stockings over her legs and tied the ribbons of her garters around her thighs before donning the fabulous chemise Ashberry had purchased for her. She shivered as the fabric shimmered over her and drew a deep breath while she considered the corset. Her hands passed it by after a moment, and went instead to the petticoats that waited. She added only one, then stood in front of the mirror, considering.

  Her fingers trembled as she dropped the emerald green skirts into place, tightening them around her waist. The bodice, also emerald in tone, was a separate piece that was fitted around her middle and buttoned up the front to where it tucked below her breasts, and her fingers shook as she fastened each pearl button. Above the buttons, white silk fit loosely over her breasts, laced closed and tied with an emerald ribbon. Ellie gently threaded the trimming through the loops, watching her fingers in the mirror as she did.

  After slipping her feet into slippers, she took a final deep breath. The sitting room was empty, and Ellie listened carefully, satisfied when she heard the murmur of voices behind Ashberry’s dressing room door. She did not sit, but stood before the fire, warming her hands as she contemplated her decision. Ellie knew well that the point of no return would not be reached until later that evening, but to deliberately taunt her husband and then pull away would make him even more miserable and leery of spending the next few days by her side.