Embracing Ashberry (27 page)

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 sweet 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 shaped 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.

Ashberry’s first glimpse of Ellie was bent
over, her hands out to the low flames. The curve of her body
quickly straightened and she turned, until he reluctantly raised
his eyes to her face, the smile on his own greeting her.

“Good evening,” she said a little
breathlessly, and she blushed, for reasons he could not fathom. He
strode to her side, his eyes raking down her body, taking in the
silk of her emerald-colored gown.

He saw immediately that she wore only a
single petticoat, for the dress did not bunch around her. When his
hand moved to her waist, he realized her corset was also missing.
He drew her forward a step, closer to him, surprised when her hands
came to rest on the lapels of his coat. “Very nice,” he murmured,
taking in the shape of her top, how it fit below her breasts and
then curved gently around them, the ribbon that held them covered
temptingly dangling.