Embracing Ashberry (33 page)

“Now?” she asked, astonished. She glanced
toward the window. “But it’s still light, we haven’t had
dinner–“

“So?” Ashberry asked. “Is there some reason
I cannot enjoy my wife when the sun is out?”

Ellie couldn’t say if there was a reason.
She blushed, stammering in her uncertainty. “I, I thought it was
the, the sort of thing that one did after the, after the
sunset.”

Ashberry was amused. He shook his head.
“It’s the sort of thing, my dear, that will be done whenever I wish
it. Or whenever we wish it.” Awareness bubbled between them at his
rough words, until Ellie could see Ashberry’s eyes change color,
the yellow flecks of desire flaring.

“Oh,” Ellie swallowed softly, the word
needless. Both knew instinctively that she would respond to the
sensual strength Ashberry radiated, the strength that had begun to
seep into her own soul. That strength, or the strength it evoked in
her, gave her the courage to not only acquiesce but also
participate eagerly in his desires.

Nervously, her fingers unbuttoned the
jacket. When she shrugged out of it, she felt her breasts bounce in
the light, knew he could see them. He took it from her, watching
unabashedly as she fumbled with the fastenings on her skirts,
gaining confidence only after the outer skirt fell and she looked
up to see Ashberry’s eyes on her, so intent that she could not
doubt his fascination. When her petticoats fell to the floor, he
took her hand, helping her to step out of the fabric. Ashberry led
her to where the sun laid out a pattern on the carpet, the rays
bright through the fabric of the window hangings.

When she knelt to remove her boots, then
untie her garters and roll down her silk stockings, he caught his
breath, barely breathing. The clothes accumulated on the floor
until only her chemise remained. Only then did he stop her,
standing before her and turning her in a circle until she faced
away from him. Lifting it from the back and exposing her bottom to
his fingertips, Ashberry examined it closely in the light. “Lift it
up,” he whispered, his voice rasping, as he ran his thumbs up over
her curves. She did, the graceful curve of her back exposed inch by
inch until the cloth went over her head.

Ellie shuddered when his hands traced ten
straight lines down her back, the nails scraping lightly. He
started at the shoulders and stopped at mid-thigh. Instinctively,
her hands went behind her, clutching at his. He chuckled, took her
hand and guided her to the bedchamber, where they remained, mostly
breathless, until darkness fell. The soft noises that came from the
room did not carry far, but the memory of the frenzied sensations
that drove their muffled moans branded both their brains.

Dressed carefully the next morning, Ellie
examined her appearance in the mirror. Quite aware they would
arrive at Ashberry Park by early afternoon, Ellie had spent an
inordinate amount of time preparing. She only had three outfits
available: her riding habit, her navy carriage gown, and the russet
gold traveling gown that Ashberry had given her. Its skirts swirled
around her easily as she turned in front of the mirror. It fit
well, complimenting her trim frame but giving shape to her
shoulders, breasts and hips.

She had been distracted during dinner the
previous evening. Not that Ashberry had minded—he had been the
cause and he knew it. She had worn the same dress she had worn for
dinner at Harlan Chase, only last night Ashberry had paid
attention. Despite the rollicking bearded old sailor, the raucous
dinner staff and the delicious meal, Ellie had hardly been able to
focus. Ashberry’s hands had teased the ribbon dangling from her
gown and his low comments, meant for only her ears, had inflamed
her senses and the imagination she found she was quickly
developing. He had been only too glad to withdraw her from the
company of Captain Finnigan, hardly closing the door to their
cottage before his fingers had pulled intently on the ribbon and
his hands had delighted in the skin beneath.

Her fingers tugged carefully on her
fashionable braids to be sure they were secure as Alexander came
and took away their bags. “His Lordship, my lady, asked me to
escort you to the carriage.” She looked at him in the mirror as he
added, “A courier arrived early this morning.”

Ellie nodded, automatically schooling her
features. She knew the butler had seen her anxious eyes, heard her
quick breath. “I’ll be ready within five minutes,” she said
calmly.

The man nodded, discreetly sliding out of
the room as Ellie tied her bonnet over her hair. For some reason,
she was nervous, though she told herself there was no reason. She
forced herself to walk evenly, her posture perfect, concentrating
on her bearing as she left the small building and paced through the
gardens toward the front gate. Ellie took a deep breath as she
approached the wall. Outside of it, she could hear men shouting,
horses whinnying. Her chin up, she stepped to the open iron grates,
clasping her hands demurely in front of her.

A crowd of men gathered between Ellie and
the carriage. Ashberry’s back was to her as he listened intently to
the men before him. Behind him, Captain Finnigan sighted her and
slipped unobtrusively from the group. She smiled at him, bowing
before he took the hand she proffered. “My lady,” the captain
murmured, his eyes twinkling. “I do hope you are feeling more
rested this morning.”

Ellie managed to keep her cheeks from
blushing a bright red, but could not prevent a lovely pink color
from staining them. The captain’s eyes were shockingly perceptive,
and despite his feeble appearance and slight limp she suspected he
could still charm a woman when he wished. She cleared her throat
before she spoke. “I do feel more myself this morning, Captain.
Thank you for your hospitality; the cottage was absolutely divine
and I shall remember your kindness fondly.”

Ashberry appeared at her side, sliding her
arm onto his as the captain released her hand. “Good morning, my
dear,” he said, looking at her critically. “I trust you feel
refreshed?”

Ellie smiled at him, somehow calmed by his
demeanor, his lack of concern. “I was just telling Captain Finnigan
how much I appreciated his welcome and kind hospitality. I do hope
he will find Ashberry Park as comfortable should he ever come to
visit.”

“I’m sure I would, my lady,” the captain
said cheerfully. “If I ever leave here, you may be sure I will make
my way north to your new home.” He nodded to the carriage, his eyes
on Ashberry. “My men say you will have good weather today, but you
pushed it to the end. We’re expecting significant snow within a few
days.”

Ashberry agreed. “We need to leave fairly
soon, I’m afraid to say.”

Ellie’s eyes, concerned, turned to Ashberry.
Before she could speak, the captain said his farewell. “I will bid
you both good day then and will hear from you soon?”

“Of course,” Ashberry agreed. He shook the
man’s hand before Finnigan kissed Ellie’s glove. “I’ll let you know
exactly what day to expect Miss Shelling.”

The captain nodded to them before bidding
Ellie a final farewell. “My lady,” the captain bowed graciously
just as Ashberry directed her away. The pair crossed around the
crowd and Ellie listened to the men exchanging their news with the
courier that Ellie knew had come from Ashberry House, for she
recognized him as a manservant there. A moment passed while
Alexander opened the carriage door but just as Ellie began to step
up, she heard a voice that made her breath stop and her face
pale.

FIFTEEN

Ashberry saw her face whiten, her fingers
clench against his hand. Instead of simply assisting her, he lifted
her by the waist into the coach. She sank into the seat, her eyes
blank, until Ashberry tugged on her hands. “Talk to me,” he said
abruptly.

“That voice,” she whispered. “The man with
the blue coat.”

Ashberry looked quickly over his shoulder.
The man Ellie referred to was one of Finnigan’s sailors. “Yes?”

She clutched his hands suddenly, her body
intent, anxious. “It wasn’t him, but I’ve never heard anyone else
sound just the same, until now.” Her hands shook in his, and she
looked so fragile that Ashberry’s heart nearly stopped.

“The man who attacked you—he spoke with the
same accent?” he confirmed.

“Yes, but this man is too old, much older
than that one,” she whispered, her hands grasping him tightly.

Ashberry gently disengaged his fingers from
her fervent grip. “I need to speak to him, Ellie.” He motioned to
Griffin, ready to climb onto the seat above them. “Griffin will sit
with you for a few minutes. I’ll send the coach ahead and catch up
on the mare.” She nodded mutely as Ashberry stepped out of the
coach door, saying a few quiet words to Griffin.

The man immediately jumped up into the
carriage, sitting calmly across from Ellie. The door closed behind
him and Ellie watched fretfully as Ashberry moved away, saddling
the horse and detaching it from the carriage before Benjamin
whipped the horses forward. He turned away almost immediately,
calling Finnigan back from the man’s slow retreat before Ellie lost
sight of him.

“He’ll come as soon as he can, my lady,” the
older man with her said quietly. Ellie looked at him, startled,
then remembered where she was. She had never heard the tone in the
valet’s voice quite so sedate. “His lordship, he is a very good
man. He will want to come back to your side as soon as he can.”

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes finally
clearing. Ellie clenched her hands in her lap. “I, I will be fine.”
She cleared her throat, struggling to return to a sense of
normalcy. She remembered suddenly Griffin’s
valse
in the
music room, Ashberry’s story of him. “Will you be glad to return to
Ashberry Park, Mr. Griffin, or do you prefer London?”

The valet kept his eyes on her, carefully
assessing. Ellie was unused to such direct consideration by
servants, but found that she didn’t mind the caution from Griffin.
The man was a long retainer of Ashberry’s family and perfectly
comfortable in his role, where he was accustomed to an unusual
degree of respect from other staff and especially Ashberry and his
family. The older man was gentle as he answered, “London was my
home for many long years, my lady, and I will always consider
returning there a sentimental homecoming.”

He coughed a bit. “However, Ashberry Park
has many redeeming qualities. I have much less to do there, for his
lordship rarely needs my assistance to dress for work in the
stables or for dinner
en famille
and there is an efficient
staff to relieve me of even more burdens. Ashberry Park is nearly
like retirement for me most days, unless his lordship suddenly
changes dramatically now that you’ve married.”

He paused for a moment and smiled
encouragingly. “The household, they will be quite excited to meet
you. His lordship has had them prepare for you, of course, and your
maid and the footmen will have arrived by now to relay to them
personally how wonderful a mistress you will be.” He looked away
from her for a moment, weighing his words. “We were all quite
relieved, you know, when the marquess announced he would marry you.
Not only did we want him to marry for his own sake, but all of
Ashberry Park will be relieved to finally have a mistress
again.”

Ellie’s voice was curious now. “Why do you
say that?” she inquired, honestly distracted from her husband’s
absence and its reason.

The reply was tactful, though Ellie
understood what he left unsaid as well. “His lordship’s father, he
lost both of his wives in childbirth. The old lord, he was a good
man before Lady Elizabeth died, but after the fever took her, the
poor man just gave up, drank himself to death. And then his
lordship, after his stepmother died, he swore he wouldn’t marry
either, or if he did, he wouldn’t murder the woman by childbirth.”
He cleared his throat. “Not that he blames his brothers, of course,
but for many years he laid the fault with his father.”

Stomach churning, Ellie forced herself not
to clench at the words. She remembered the marquess’ response that
first day in the park, his silence and eventually his acceptance of
the doubts about her fertility. She had thought at the time that he
had been deciding whether he could accept the risk of an infertile
wife—now she wondered if her news hadn’t made him more determined
to marry her. “Are you saying that the staff believes Ashberry,”
she asked quietly, “Didn’t marry me expecting an heir?”

Griffin looked uncomfortable for a moment as
he framed his response. “We know he did not,” the valet finally
said quietly. “We can tell he married you for a better reason and
all of Ashberry Park will celebrate it, for he does not conceal
that he cares for you deeply. It is on his face when he is around
you—when I first saw it, I could hardly believe it myself.” The
smile on his face was satisfied, content. “If I may say so, it is
better that they all know. Both of you will be automatically
afforded more privacy by all of us belowstairs. All the maids will
think it most romantic that he made a love match and will not cast
covetous eyes toward him. The villagers will guess that you have
influence with the marquess and respect you more for it—perhaps
even seek you out to act on their behalf more than they would
otherwise.”

The young lady, her emotions completely
spent by the shock of the previous hour, her new intimacy with the
marquess and the fatigue of traveling, couldn’t reply, but Griffin
didn’t seem to expect one. He gazed out the window in the back of
the carriage, past Ellie’s head, obviously watching for the
marquess. Ellie focused on breathing evenly, wondering if Griffin
was as informed as he thought. She knew Ashberry cared for her,
deeply, and was resolutely committed to protecting her, but
love?