She was glad to have something to occupy her hands, and the footmen came to collect her trunks in what hardly seemed like any time at all. She slipped Henry into his leather lead, and they headed down to the foyer to meet the rest of her family.
Andrew was already waiting, and she heard the distinct sound of the carriage pulling up as she and Henry came down into the foyer.
Her brother turned and stopped, shifting from one foot to the other.
“You needn’t be so nervous, brother. I’m only getting married.”
Andrew’s mouth tightened, but she saw a flash of mirth in his eyes.
The ride to the chapel where Ashbourne requested the ceremony take place was uneventful. Louisa and Jo both insisted on sitting next to her, which left Henry between Andrew and Viv, which Eliza believed no one enjoyed, most of all Henry.
They arrived without incident, however, and her sisters poured from the carriage, already jabbering to one another that there had better be some nice flowers arranged. Even if it was decided a smaller ceremony would be better given the timing at the last gasp of the season, it should at least appear noble.
Eliza really couldn’t have cared. Her mind kept drifting to where Ashbourne had said they were going for the summer. Ashbourne Manor was nestled in a village just to the east of Brighton. They’d be spending the summer on the shore. She’d never spent a summer on the shore. She gathered up Henry’s lead so Andrew could slip past the dog. He paused though and turned a soft smile in her direction.
She reached out a hand and placed it on his arm.
“You needn’t worry so, brother. I’m going to be just fine.”
“But I must worry. It’s my job to do so now.” His tone was neutral, but she heard the underlying cadence of steel, and it reassured her. Andrew would never allow anything to happen to his sisters.
Soon she was alone in the carriage, and she tugged on Henry’s lead to tell him it was time to leave. But suddenly an unexpected tug of apprehension gripped her. Sitting there alone in the carriage, her sisters jarring voices pattering on just beyond the open door. Andrew’s more muffled voice as he greeted—
He was speaking to Ashbourne.
The apprehension grew until she feared she’d not be able to move. Her chest heaved, and her skin prickled. In her mind, her plan was sterile and objective. Here it was not so much. Here it was very real, and it involved her marrying a duke.
Then Ashbourne appeared in the open doorway, and she forgot entirely how to breathe.
He wore a jacket of deep blue, a simple waistcoat and cravat, that cut a dashing line. He could have stepped from a novel, and Eliza’s breathing constricted even more.
Until Ashbourne smiled.
It wasn’t a seductive smile. Not that she would have thought he’d be inclined to such a thing when it came to her. No, this was a mischievous smile.
He reached into a pocket and withdraw a folded handkerchief from which he withdrew—
A piece of ham.
Henry whined.
“My good man, Henry,” Ashbourne said. “Are you ready to be married?”
* * *
The ceremony felt unusually stilted, but as he’d avoided any wedding he possibly could in the past seven years, he wasn’t entirely sure what a wedding ceremony was like.
Eliza seemed content. He wasn’t sure she was the type of person to exude enthusiasm for a wedding ceremony. Perhaps if he handed her a puppy, she’d be elated, but he just felt wedding ceremonies were not to her liking. Henry sat obediently by her side, which had caused a great deal of whispering among the guests, which he’d enjoyed immensely.
If he were to be forced to wed, at least he would get some kind of enjoyment out of it.
The wedding breakfast was an even greater trial as members of the ton deemed necessary to invite as guests paraded past he and his new wife to express their well wishes. The entire affair was interminable, and he found himself longing for the ride to Glenhaven where at least he would find some peace and quiet to at least examine his own thoughts.
Sebastian’s words continued to trip through his mind, and no matter how he tried to push them from his thoughts, he simply couldn’t. He found himself studying Eliza through the entire ceremony and wedding breakfast, determined to find something to refute his friend’s advice. Surely it was simply a matter of physical attraction that could keep an appropriate distance between them.
But as he stood next to her, he couldn’t help but notice how she smelled of lilacs and wondered if she had acquired a new soap for her toilette for he was sure Eliza was not the type to dally in perfumes or colognes. She was, however, wearing a new gown. He could tell by the lack of staining along the cuffs, which he was coming to understand was from the dog drool she acquired when working with Henry. The dog deposited a great deal of moisture on the giver’s hand and wrist when given a treat he was coming to discover from the few times he had rewarded the dog with a morsel.
When they were finally seated for the meal, Eliza leaned into him, and he tried not to think about lilacs.
“Your Grace, I don’t mean to intrude, but I noticed your family is not in attendance.”
“Dax,” he whispered in reply.
She straightened ever so slightly as if the intimacy of his given name were enough to upset her.
“Dax.” She said his name as if testing out a foreign word, and he drew far too much pleasure from it.
“My mother largely keeps to her ancestral home on the Isle of Skye. She sends her blessing and hopes to one day make your acquaintance.”
She stiffened beside him. “Is your relationship with your mother…strained?”
“Not at all.” He nodded at an earl he only dimly recollected seeing in the chambers of Parliament. “My mother is a daft, flighty old bird who prefers stalking to the ballrooms of London.” He turned his smile on her. “I quite enjoy her company.”
His wife blinked, her mouth relaxed as she seemed to contemplate this.
“And the rest of your family?”
He gave a shrug. “I have cousins here and yon, but we’re not particularly close. We all grew up at rather different times. It, unfortunately, prevented a true bond from forming.”
“That’s so sad.” Her words were soft, and he looked at her to ensure he’d heard her correctly. She licked her lips and added, “It’s just that family can be so important. It’s good to have someone always there to rely on.”
Since his father’s death some six years previously, Dax had largely been alone in the world. He hadn’t really noticed as the reach of a duke was powerful, and he’d had little cause to rely on anyone else.
“But wouldn’t you agree sometimes one’s family is not the greatest source of comfort?”
Her eyes narrowed, and a line appeared along her brow. He’d upset her when he truly hadn’t meant to. He didn’t realize how important family was to her, but he supposed he should have figured as she had an overabundance of siblings.
He reached beneath the table to find her hand and drew it into his. She gave a sharp inhalation, but had he not been sitting so close, he wouldn’t have noticed. But he did notice, and her reaction to his touch had his gut clenching. Her hand was small and delicate in his, and he wished nothing more than to remove her glove and feel her soft skin against his.
Later, he realized. Later he could remove her glove and so much more.
He gave her hand a final squeeze and let it go as if it were about to ignite him in a ball of flames.
Damn Sebastian and his nonsense.
It seemed an age before the last of the guests bid them their goodbyes. He hadn’t tasted the food, he’d drunk far too much of the wine, and he couldn’t have named a single guest at the affair if someone had threatened the life of his horse. It seemed his entire plan was falling to pieces around him as he couldn’t stop thinking about his wife.
Wife.
Her smile, her endearing expressions, her wit, her charm.
He hadn’t factored int
o his plan the need for a woman prepared for the demands the title of duchess brought with it, but he’d found much to his delight Eliza had no qualms on the matter. Likely because she was the daughter of a duchess herself.
She moved smoothly from guest to guest, earls and countesses to marquesses and marchionesses. She nodded politely, said all the right things, and made all the correct comments. He heard nothing but commendable remarks regarding his wife and the guests had filtered out with contented smiles and valuable promises of invitations.
Only he noticed the stiffness about her. While she was well trained, she didn’t take to it naturally. Henry stayed by her side, and he saw her hand slip to the dog more than once as if she drew comfort from him. He recalled what she had said that first night he met her. He wondered suddenly if dogs were the only creatures from which she’d drawn comfort.
God, he was in for it now. Why had he not considered the virginal state of his wife before this? Hadn’t she said she’d never been kissed before on that fateful day in the Ravenwood drawing room?
A wash of worry swept over him. He was used to widows and unhappy wives. He was not used to virgins, especially ones that tugged at his heartstrings like she did. He was in very real danger here. Perhaps Sebastian had been right.
Soon the halls of Ashbourne House quieted, and they were left standing in the foyer bidding goodbye to her family.
Or rather, he stood by as her sisters prodded and poked her.
One toyed with a curl of her hair that had escaped a pin, informing her of the importance of a good curling rod. Another examined her gown informing her how it could be altered to be reworn now that so many had seen her wearing it at her wedding. And the third, well, this one hung back, petting the dog and assuring Henry he would be well treated and if he weren’t, there was no sin in a corrective bite.
He swallowed.
“I assure you Eliza is nothing like her sisters.”
Ashbourne turned at the voice to find the Duke of Ravenwood standing mere inches away.
“I suppose you mean that in a positive way,” Ashbourne said.
Ravenwood’s expression was closed, but he gave a sidelong glance.
“My sister is a good woman despite what society may think of her. You will never find fault in her character.”
Ashbourne’s chest tightened. That was precisely of what he was afraid.
“I am beginning to understand that.” He watched Eliza attempt to extract herself from her sisters and herd them to the door.
Ravenwood said nothing more and stepped aside as his sister approached. Eliza gave a final farewell to each of her sisters, tangling Henry between their legs. He stepped back to give her more room and allow the dog to find his perch by his mistress’s side. He still had some morsels rolled in the handkerchief in his pocket, which he hoped would help acclimate the poor dog to his new home.
He wasn’t sure why he felt a sudden pang for the collie, but he had likely known only one home his whole life and now everything would be upset.
Ravenwood stepped up and kissed his sister goodbye, making his own attempt to herd his sisters to the door. Dax was focused on Henry so when someone grabbed his arm, he started. He expected to see Ravenwood but was surprised instead to find it was one of his bride’s sisters. It was the one who had encouraged Henry to take up biting. He thought her name was Johanna, but he was honestly having trouble telling them apart.
She smiled rapturously and leaned in close to whisper, “If you do anything to hurt her, I will have your ballocks.”
She stepped away before he had a chance to respond and waved enthusiastically with the rest of her sisters. He swallowed and, not quite meeting her eyes, raised a hand in farewell. Eliza gave one final call before the door shut, leaving him utterly alone with his wife.
The resulting silence drummed in his ears like a stampede of wild boar.
He cleared his throat, “Eh, that was…”
“Awful.” She spoke the word with such grave enormity he couldn’t help but laugh.
She looked at him sharply, a stamp of wariness on her features before she realized he’d thought her funny. Her face relaxed and she bent to remove Henry’s lead. The dog stood and turned to face him, nuzzling at his hand.
“Do you have more of that ham in your pockets?” Eliza asked.
He eyed her. “He can smell it?”
She frowned every so delicately. “He is a dog. Of course, he can smell it.”
Henry raised a single paw as if requesting a morsel.
Dax withdraw the handkerchief and gave the dog the last of the ham. This seemed to satisfy him as he sat and whined softly at his mistress.
Then they stood there.
His plan hadn’t exactly included what was to happen after he secured a wife. He had expected to be so disinterested in her person as to not require her presence further, but terribly enough, he found he didn’t want the day to end for then he would have no cause to be in Eliza’s company.
“Would—” He didn’t have an end to that sentence as he scrambled to find a reason to keep Eliza next to him.
“Henry will need to do business,” she said, thankfully cutting him off. “Would you be so kind as to direct me to the gardens?”
It took him a moment to interpret what she meant by Henry needing to do business, and his hesitation cost him.
Carver, the Ashbourne butler, had been standing by after seeing the last of the guests out, and at Eliza’s question he stepped forward.
“I should be happy to show you the gardens, Your Grace.” Carver gave a bow. “And if you are not too tired, the servants would very much enjoy making your acquaintance.”
He opened his mouth to interject, but Eliza spoke over him.
“Thank you…” She waited to allow Carver to give an introduction.
“Carver, Your Grace. I am the butler here at Ashbourne House. Should you require anything, I am here to serve you.”
Eliza showered Carver with one of her soft smiles. “Thank you, Carver. I should be happy with both of your suggestions. Come, Henry.”
Before he could think of something to say, he was already alone in the foyer, his hardly married wife having deserted him.
But that was not what bothered him most. What bothered him was how much it hurt to see her go.
Chapter 5
Ashbourne had had a sofa installed in her bedchamber.
It was clear the piece did not belong as it did not match the other Queen Anne furniture in the room. The sofa was a solid piece with boxy legs, which suggested it had been recently purchased. Henry deemed it acceptable as he immediately pounced upon it when the housekeeper, Mrs. Fitzhugh, had shown her to her rooms.
Henry had spent a good hour roaming the grounds of Ashbourne House and found quite a few suitable spots to do his business. She’d played a few games with him to expend his energy as well. Hiding bits of chicken Cook had procured for her so Henry could find them and tossed his favorite toy, a stuffed rabbit she’d sewn for him, so he could chase it about the lawn. When he’d returned to her, tongue lolling out of his mouth, she knew he’d relax comfortably in the strange environs of their new home.
And strange it was turning out to be.
She was glad the servants had taken to her immediately for she feared she’d be wandering the halls of Ashbourne House like a lost puppy. Ashbourne could not have been quicker to dismiss her after the guests and her family had departed, and she could not blame him.
She wouldn’t spend another thought on the subject for it needn’t matter. She knew her place, and she knew what it would get her.
Tonight.
Even tonight she might conceive a baby, and it would have all been worth it. For surely, Ashbourne planned to consummate their marriage as was appropriate. Even he could not refute what was necessary in a marriage even if he could not stand to be in her presence.
Her chest tightened at the thought, and a headache pushed at the backs of her eyes. She pressed a hand to her forehead,
refusing to allow tears she knew would do no good. She shouldn’t upset herself over his treatment of her for it was to be expected. Better to move on to practical matters.
She tentatively opened the doors to an expansive armoire to find her things had already been aired, pressed, and hung up. There were neat drawers for her stockings and tidy shelves for her unmentionables. Her hairbrush and pins had been deposited on her dressing table and her shoes carefully laid out. She was only to stay at Ashbourne House for a few days, and she preferred this less formal arrangement. Had she a dressing room and such, she wouldn’t have known what to do with it all.
She eyed Henry. “I think this will suit. How do you feel about it?”
He’d already fallen asleep, and hearing his soft snores bolstered her courage.
Her maid, Lucy, arrived within minutes to help her off with her gown. Eliza dismissed her for the evening thereafter, wishing to be alone for a few moments before Ashbourne arrived. He’d advised her to call him by his given name several times, but for some reason, the intimacy of it stopped the word from pouring from her lips.
With the exception of her brother, she’d never called any gentleman by his given name and had never thought to be so close to someone so as to use his given name. It felt unnatural, and more, it frightened her. She had set an expectation that the familiar relations of marriage would forever be unknown to her, and to suddenly be wed was cause for consternation.
More, she realized she would need to guard her heart from disappointment. There’s was not a love match, and she thought it worse that she should be alone in a marriage rather than just alone. At least when she was just alone, there was no one who held the power to hurt her so acutely, and Ashbourne most certainly held such power.
When he’d stood in the foyer and said nothing to her suggestion of seeing the gardens. When he’d been unable to look at her after their one shared kiss.
The Duke and the Wallflower Page 6
