Embracing Ashberry (43 page)

“The doctor, thank God,” Edward said
wearily, “Says anytime—a few more days at most and Mama agrees.” He
sank into his study chair, gulping a drink. “Charlotte is nearly
climbing the walls—the only thing that has settled her was
Caroline’s visit yesterday.” Caroline had been carried in, and out,
by her husband, and deposited on a daybed in Charlotte’s room so
the two could converse. “Eldenwood said he could not resist her
pleas and finally found a way to indulge Caroline—he has a soft
heart for your sister.”

“As do you,” Ashberry said moodily, gazing
into the street. Ellie was somewhere in a carriage, between
Caroline’s and Charlotte’s, he thought, wondering if she would stop
at their own house and find him gone. His own mind was still
focused on his wife, on her abundant joy. He wondered anxiously if
she was still thinking of their last conversation about love.
“Ellie has not seemed interested in seeing your father.”

Edward sobered. “It would not surprise me,
Ashberry, if she has driven by the old house out of curiosity, to
find if he spends any time there.”

“I discovered where he is hiding during the
day—and he is hiding.”

Behind him, Ashberry listened to Edward pour
two glasses of brandy. “Where?” the younger man asked simply,
handing the marquess a glass.

Ashberry paused. “He is gambling at a hell
in Kensington. Manley’s.”

Edward winced. “Has he completely lost his
mind?” he slammed down his glass. “Or is simply determined to ruin
the barony?”

The little display of temper salved
Ashberry’s own anger to the baron, for the moment. He sighed. “No,
I think he’s just completely unaware of how’s he’s going,” the
older man replied reluctantly. “I did call in a favor or
two—Manley’s will not allow him to rack up debt to the house.”

Edward was surprised. “How did you manage
that?” he asked.

Ashberry looked uncomfortable, but finally
admitted, “My father was an incredible card player. He doubled our
fortune at the gaming tables, at least. When he died, he had a
positive balance at every gaming hell in London, even the
disreputable ones. Manley’s was more than willing to cut your
father off if need be—I still hold quite a few markers from them
and they do not want me to call them in just now.” A wry smile
crossed his face. “And, to be perfectly frank, your father is a
very sharp player. According to the proprietors, the other patrons
are afraid of him—those who play with him are almost certain to
lose over the course of an evening.”

The younger man nodded. “And Pall Mall? Why
has he not been to his clubs?”

“According to my sources, he’s been spending
a good number of his evenings at Manley’s as well. I assume he does
not wish to run into either of us—in addition, the wagers at
Manley’s have been much higher than he would find at Watier's or
Brook’s. Not enough to endanger your inheritance but still
serious.”

“Probably not,” Edward admitted. “Do you
suppose he knows that we know about ... his earlier debt?” He
paused and then said more slowly, “And why has he come back to
town, if not to see us? We know Papa cannot show his face in
Parliament or St. James unless we find out about it. And he is
going to miss fox season again this year, something he has always
enjoyed.”

“An excellent question,” Ashberry murmured.
“I’m going to have to talk to him, you know. We can’t let it go on
indefinitely.”

Edward shook his head. “I can’t leave
Charlotte, Ashberry. She’d never forgive me.”

“I wasn’t planning on chasing him down just
yet. I thought we would wait until you could give him news of the
babe.” Ashberry sighed. “I still have hope for your father, Edward,
though I swear I don’t know why.”

“I don’t know either,” Edward muttered.

Ashberry did not reply. In the street, he
watched his carriage pull up and breathed a silent sigh of relief
when Edward’s butler helped Ellie down from the coach. He didn’t
know why he felt relief, except perhaps that Ellie looked at him,
in the window, and smiled delightedly. Even in the dim light on the
street, she was golden. Glowing. His heart ached as he nodded,
stepping away from the glass.

“Ellie’s here,” he said without pretense,
moving to the door.

Edward stopped him. “Ashberry?”

The marquess did not turn around. But he did
stop, at least while Edward spoke. “When are you going to tell
her?” No question about whether he would, just when.

“I don’t know,” he admitted woodenly before
he exited the room.

He did know he had to discover a way, of
course. Ashberry was still struggling with the actual process of
telling Ellie two nights later about the meeting he wished to
engineer when a footman arrived at Ashberry’s front door. The
marquess shrugged on his greatcoat even as he sent upstairs for
Ellie. “We won’t be here for dinner, Alexander,” he told the butler
unnecessarily.

“Of course, my lord,” the man murmured,
making his own mental list of changes occurring over the next few
days. “Will you go on ahead, or wait for Lady Ashberry?”

“I’ll wait. There’s no need for Benjamin
bring the carriage around—we’ll be there for awhile so if someone
could just hail a cab for us?”

Ellie hurried. She was still tying her
bonnet around her head when she flew down the stairs. “There’s no
need to rush, my dear,” Ashberry said calmly, more calmly than he
felt. “It will be quite awhile, I’m sure.”

“I know,” Ellie fretted, shrugging on her
pelisse, “But I think Edward and Charlotte will need us, you know,
especially since Eldenwood won’t let Caroline come until
tomorrow.”

Ashberry let her babble on for a few
moments, amazed by her nervousness. Had she been like this with
Caroline? He realized with chagrin that he didn’t know because he
hadn’t been at home when the word came. A small part of his gut
found the notion unsettling, that reminder of his deception. Ellie
had not scolded him or withheld herself from him in any way but
Ashberry remembered the struggle on her face, the sadness that day.
He mentally castigated himself during the short journey, surprised
at how Ellie’s hands fidgeted in her lap, how pinched her face had
become. When they stepped inside the front hall, she disappeared
nearly before he had removed her coat, flying up the stairs with an
astonishing speed and agility.

It was quite awhile, just as Ashberry
predicted. Edward was nearly already drunk when Ashberry arrived,
and the marquess was set the task of watering the young man’s
drinks even as Charlotte’s uninhibited shrieks ripped through the
house at odd and unpredictable intervals. After some hours passed,
John arrived, and as dawn neared, Sebastian let himself into the
study.

“You know I missed Caroline’s while I was up
in Yorkshire,” he told Ashberry ruefully. “She forgave me because
it was, after all, an important matter of business but Charlotte
would not for I have no reasonable excuse. Even though it means
sacrificing the start of the fox hunting, I decided I had better
stay in Town.”

Edward gulped down another glass of brandy,
this time well weakened, as one of Charlotte’s yelps echoed through
the room.

Ashberry winced. “It’s our unfortunate luck
that Charlotte’s chamber is just above our heads, Sebastian,” he
warned his brother, even as the other man’s face paled.

With some luck, the three men managed to
placate Edward’s degenerating mood. At one point, he ran to his
wife’s side, only to be dismissed a few minutes later when a labor
pain struck and he had literally sunk to the floor. He had been
weak-kneed, nearly carried down the stairs by John and Ashberry
while Sebastian had remained beside his sister for a few faithful
but excruciating minutes more. After that incident, the men
relocated to the small conservatory in the back of the house, where
few of the noises from the master chambers could be heard.

Dawn had just passed when the older ladies
sent Ellie from the room to rest, until she sank beside Ashberry on
a wooden garden bench. Laying her head against his shoulder, she
slept almost immediately, the exhaustion on her face a clear
indication of the turmoil wracking the women. Edward paced back and
forth, staring moodily into the gardens, cursing himself and his
own weaknesses. “If it’s a boy, I swear to you and God this will be
the last one,” he growled to Ashberry.

The older man sighed, shaking his head even
as Ellie lifted hers. “Nonsense,” the young marchioness murmured
sleepily. “Do not be foolish, Edward. Charlotte would never permit
you to behave so abominably to her.” The men chuckled while
Ashberry kissed his wife’s temple, mentally reminding himself that
she had just endured a most uncomfortable nap.

“I am going to have one of the servants find
a bed for you,” he whispered in her ear. “You need more than an
hour long nap on a garden bench.”

She did need more than the hour nap, Ellie
reflected, allowing herself to be settled onto a bed above stairs
by an anxious housemaid. The girl fussed until Ellie allowed her
head to loll to the side, feigning sleep. When she slipped from the
chamber, Ellie slid her hands behind her head and stared at the
ceiling, considering. It had been nearly six weeks since she had
pleaded her monthly indisposition to Ashberry but there had been
that disturbing period where she had nearly made herself ill with
anxiety. Biting her lip, Ellie decided to bide her time even more.
She had gone five or six weeks without bleeding before and she
couldn’t swear, yet, that she was with child.

In the excitement, she wondered if Ashberry
had forgotten, if he had somehow dismissed it as caused by the
excitement and worry of the last weeks. She couldn't imagine that
he had simply decided no longer to count.

Still, Ellie knew she needed a great deal
more than the hour, for she could not risk reducing herself to ill
health if she was expecting. The labors of Ashberry’s sisters had
been traumatic enough for him and she had found herself confronted
with a new fear. Even though he was beginning to accept the idea of
risking his wife in childbirth, Ellie worried that he would revert
to an even more determined position if Charlotte or Caroline fell
ill.

Ellie yawned and rolled onto her side,
covering her mouth and then her stomach as she considered. It was
possible, she told herself fiercely, but she just couldn't be
certain. Not yet.

NINETEEN

After sleeping for nearly six hours, Ellie
returned to Charlotte's room to find Caroline ensconced on a daybed
that had been moved in. Charlotte's pains were more frequent by
then but she had begun to gather her strength for the last hours,
for Caroline had told her quite bluntly how it would be near the
end. Her cries were quieter, more resigned, and Ellie breathed in
relief to see the renewed confidence on her mother and Sarah's
faces.

The young mother smiled as Ellie came in the
room, her face freshly scrubbed. "There you are, Ellie dear," she
greeted. The last weeks together had strengthened the bond between
the three women and Ellie found it uplifting to be welcomed so
completely into the twins' friendship. "I was just telling
Charlotte that we have been here nearly three hours. I will have to
go soon to feed Shane—Eldenwood insisted we bring in a wet nurse,
you know, in case there was a need but I've been resisting actually
using her to feed him." She winced as she added, "I had wanted to
say goodbye to Aunt Lucy but she's napping as well."

Charlotte waved her hand dismissively as she
hunkered down in the bed for a moment of rest. "Aunt Lucy
understands, Caroline," she scolded softly. "And you know she'll
come see the babe again just as soon as this is over."

"And she rests," Sarah interspersed firmly,
her chin squared. All three of the younger woman knew immediately
that the elderly cousin would make sure of it, even to the point of
appealing to Ashberry and Sebastian. "And it is time for you to go
home, Caroline. Besides the babe, there's your own health to watch
after—the earl will have my head on a platter if anything should
happen to you." Without hesitation, she pulled the bell to call the
maids.

Caroline sighed, her eyes on Ellie in a
rueful expression. "You see, Ellie, Eldenwood and Sarah organize my
life for me now. Childbed is supposed to give you a chance to rest
but in our house it is simply giving others a chance to manage me."
She frowned in disgust. “Thank goodness my incarceration only lasts
another week.”

Ellie smiled, a gentle smile. "It's
difficult, isn't it? Being told what to do as if you're ten years
old again?"

Charlotte gritted as another pain passed
through her body. It didn't stop her from contributing to the
conversation. "I don't know why you submit to it so meekly,
Caroline. I will be screaming if Mother Whitney and Edward were as
overbearing as Eldenwood is."

Lady Whitney nearly laughed at the comment.
"Charlotte, dear, you've been screaming at Edward about it for the
last two weeks. It hasn't changed his mind one whit—your brother
made too much of an impression." All the women knew what she meant.
It was no secret that Ashberry had taken aside both Eldenwood and
Edward at different times where he described in great detail what a
woman with puerperal fever experienced. Ashberry's words had a
powerful impact on the behavior of both men, despite their wife's
pleadings.

Caroline sighed. "It is tolerable because I
understand, Charlotte, that he's not doing it to be an arrogant oaf
or a half-wit. He's being so terribly overbearing because he loves
me, you know and knows no other way to protect me, and for that
reason I can countenance it." Her lips twitched slightly at the rap
on the door. "Though I must admit, I haven't always had the best of
attitudes."

Sarah opened the door slightly as Caroline
moved slowly to the door, where Ellie saw Eldenwood immediately
close his arms around her and lift her against his chest. Eldenwood
was a strong, muscular man, despite his gray hair, and Ellie
thought for a moment that she saw Caroline’s hands feather
appreciatively over his coat as she rested her head contentedly on
his shoulder. The moment was fleeting though and quickly the couple
disappeared down the stairs and out of Ellie’s sight.