Embracing Ashberry (30 page)

Ellie nodded against him, sighing again.
“It’s so much warmer like this,” she murmured. “Warmer than just
sharing the blankets, I mean.”

“Mmmmm ...” he agreed. “Did you see the
messenger arrive after breakfast?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “You didn’t say
anything so I assumed you didn’t want to discuss it just then.” She
bit her lip. “Truth be told, I didn’t want to ruin a beautiful
morning.”

“It won’t,” he assured her. “The magistrate
went to Ashberry House yesterday afternoon after he left us on the
road but declined to search the house, though Winters invited him
in. He simply wished to question the servants, none of whom have
managed to see your mother since the morning before we left.”

Ellie inhaled slowly and deeply. “We must
reward them nicely, Ashberry.”

He laughed deeply, kissing the top of her
head. “I will, Ellie dear, you have my word. Edward sent word, as
well, that the magistrate had searched his house from top to
bottom, including the closets and cellars. Charlotte was quite
honest with him—Lady Whitney had been there two nights ago but had
left in a hired cab the next day. My sister told him she presumed
the woman would go home to her husband. Edward was quite honest,
too. He told the man that his mother should not have to risk her
life to satisfy Lord Whitney’s rages and that Edward would quite
understand if she ran away, especially as she would soon lose the
protecting presence of her children. He also reminded the
magistrate that your mother had made some dear friends in Austria
and Germany, particularly in Hanover. I wish I had seen it.”

“Richard?” Ellie asked breathlessly.

“He is under John and Fields’ eyes and with
his tutor, though at your father’s. He does not know where she is
now but it would not matter if he did—he told Fields that no woman
should be reduced to a mere possession, especially his mother.”

Ellie smiled into her husband’s chest.
“That’s my Richard,” she murmured. “Straight from Edward’s mouth to
his brain, God bless the boy.” His chest rumbled with laughter at
her words. “I’m afraid we all have a touch of Mama in us,
Ashberry.”

He rocked her against him, stretching her
words. After a few minutes, he spoke with measured, sober words.
“You are not a piece of property to me, Ellie Trinity, as a horse
is,” he reassured her. “However,” he warned, his hands tightening,
“You are mine and only mine, for as long as God gives us.”

“Yes, my lord,” she murmured demurely, then
lifted her chin and met his eyes evenly. “Because I chose to
be.”

He nodded, the light of male satisfaction on
his face. “Yes, you did.” His mouth met hers firmly, a kiss that
soon deepened until he nearly laid her back on the seat as he
savored her flavor, her astonishing willingness. He found it
difficult to set her from him, sliding away across the seat while
his eyes remained fixed on her. “Ellie, dear, I think it’s time you
found your needlework or a book or, or something to occupy your
time.”

The words surprised her, shocked him. “I’ve
already found you, Stephen.”

He closed his eyes, cursing the clock. It
was not yet noon and they had at least six more hours before the
next possible bed. Ashberry swallowed hard, rapping on the
coachman’s seat. “Ellie, you are going to drive me to madness. We
cannot in the carriage, unless you wish to share the absolutely
gorgeous noises you made last night with our three attendants, not
to mention risking damage from the cold to your delectable
body.”

She took a deep breath. “You’re going to
ride?”

“Yes,” Ashberry answered roughly, “Until
lunchtime at least.” He put a hand on the latch as the carriage
rolled to a halt. “Not because I don’t want to be with you, Ellie.
Because I want you too damn much.”

“All right,” she accepted after a moment.
“I’ll read, until lunchtime.” She grimaced. “I don’t think I could
ride today, you know, but I don’t suppose you have a sidesaddle for
those mares?”

“You have a riding clothes? And boots?”

“Yes,” she said, satisfied. “It is the type
of thing that one sometimes finds useful when traveling.”

Ashberry nodded, wondering if she had
enjoyed the constant travel, moving from place to place. “I will do
my best to find a sidesaddle then, my lady, for tomorrow.”

Ellie nodded, watching him hop from the
coach, unassuming and unflappable with the trusted men he kept at
his side. She paused, wondering, for it occurred to her that the
only times she had seen him disturbed were around her, because of
her. The young woman wondered about it, but had no answers for
herself and she turned to her needlework to occupy her
thoughts.

Lunch was quiet, with Ashberry eating
quickly and then speaking with a number of the locals. He was
obviously known in the village and she watched, fascinated, as even
the mayor came to greet him. The marquess spoke easily, listened
carefully to all he was told, until finally Ellie rose from her
seat. Alexander was beside her immediately.

“Yes, my lady?” he asked courteously.

Her question was quiet. “Mr. Alexander, why
does the marquess know everyone here?”

The butler showed no signs of surprise, a
trait, she mused, that was required for the job. “The lordship’s
agents travel through here regularly, my lady. He has found it
useful to make and keep the friendship of the locals along our
route. We patronize the tavern, the stables.”

“That’s all?” she asked suspiciously.

The butler admitted, “Well, my lady,
Ashberry Stable supplies nearly all the stops between London and
Ashberry Park with coach horses. The marquess’ business is well
known and liked here.”

Ashberry said farewell to the man, then
returned to Ellie’s side. He kissed her glove, taking her arm and
guiding her through the room. “My dearest lady,” he murmured, “Do
you feel refreshed?”

“Not particularly,” Ellie smiled. “I don’t
suppose we could walk around for a bit?” Her eyes pleaded a bit and
Ashberry couldn’t resist. Without speaking, he led her up the
street, past several small shops. She stopped before one that
seemed especially well kept, stepping inside the low doorway.
Inside was a plethora of small fineries and Ellie moved from
treasure to treasure, exclaiming.

The shopkeeper would have been delighted to
show her trinkets and ribbon until the sunset, but Ashberry
couldn’t wait quite that long. “My lady,” he murmured just once,
his eyes reminding her of their journey.

She acquiesced immediately, choosing several
yards of ribbon trim and several threads that would complement her
needlework. She started to use her own coin but Ashberry shook his
head, paying the man himself. When they returned to the coach, he
helped her inside, clearly intending to take to the horse again.
Ellie smiled, understanding the tightness around his mouth now when
he looked at her, when his hands slid a bit too slowly over her
legs as she settled into the seat. She did not object, but instead
asked, “You’ll come sit with me later?”

“Later,” Ashberry promised. And later he did
come. They stopped two hours further along the road to rest the
horses and he came inside the carriage, amused to find her asleep,
head down against the seat. She slept even as the horses pulled
forward, until Ashberry wondered at how soundly she rested when she
wasn’t disturbed by dreams. He watched her, just watched her, until
her eyes began to flutter.

She yawned, covering her mouth and sitting
on the bench, blinking at him. “Hello,” he smiled.

Her cheeks flushed. “Hello,” she whispered
back.

Immediately, he could see the direction of
her thoughts. It was late afternoon and would be dark soon. She
must know that they would not go much further. “A half hour,
perhaps,” he told her. “You slept a long time.” A wicked smile
crossed his face. “It’s likely you didn’t get as much sleep last
night as you might have otherwise.”

“I suppose it was early when we left,” she
murmured, deliberately ignoring his provocative remark though she
couldn’t prevent the flush that stained her cheeks. His face
severe, Ashberry beckoned a hand to her and she went instantly, for
beside him was exactly where she wished to be. He fitted her
against his side, breathing his own sigh of relief as his arm
tightened around her so that his hand was able to flatten against
her stomach. Again, almost impatiently, he tumbled her hair from
its knot, his fingers exploring the locks, tracing them. After some
minutes had passed, his hand gently smoothed up over her stomach,
brushing her breasts lightly until she squirmed just a bit. His
second hand left her hair to fondle her as well through the fabric
and Ellie gasped softly.

“No noises,” Ashberry whispered against her
hair. “Remember our companions on the seat.”

“I know,” Ellie breathed, continuing to
wiggle against him.

Ashberry had no mercy. He was quickly
discovering that he adored her best like this, soft against him,
needing him, even if they were fully dressed. “You know what will
happen when we arrive?” She shook her head, trying to push her
breasts up into his hands. The effort failed, for Ashberry refused
to harden the contact, simply brushing lightly against her
gown.

“I’ll put your pelisse back around you,
cover your breasts so no one but I can see your nipples hardened
under the fabric,” he whispered, warming her heart. He squeezed her
just once, causing a gasp, then returned to the light caresses that
caused her to twitch and turn. “Then I’ll introduce you to Mrs.
Tate, who keeps the house, and help you up the stairs to our room.
If she asks, you’ll simply tell her you are exhausted and wish to
rest.”

Ashberry’s voice was warm against her ear,
soothing and exciting at the same time. “And I won’t let you out of
it until we are ready to leave tomorrow morning. You’ll be all
mine, every inch of your skin, your mouth, all night. No maid, no
Griffin.” The words fired her, until Ellie could feel herself
warming between her legs. “There should be a bath waiting and water
for it on the hearth. I’ll bathe you, perhaps allow you a dressing
gown if you ask nicely.” She gasped, shifting just a little to the
side, angling so she was able to tip her back against his thigh,
presenting her breasts. His voice roughened, “If you do that,
though, I might just put you naked in the bed.” He scraped her
nipple with his nails and though the contact was eased by the dress
and chemise between them, she still arched up into his hands.
“Someone will bring dinner to us when I call for it. Not that
you’ll be in any condition to answer the door.”

“Stephen.” The sigh on her lips pleased him,
even as her eyes closed.

He continued. “I have been thinking about
this all day, thinking about you all day.” One of his hands moved
to her lips, tracing them until Ellie’s mouth opened. His index
finger slipped inside and she grasped it between her lips, as if it
was the only piece of him she had to cling to. The heat of her
mouth and tongue surrounding Ashberry’s skin set a pulsating beat
to his blood. “Thinking of ways I could have you. Dear Ellie, you
have no idea what you do to me.”

She released his finger and he felt barren
suddenly. Cold. Until she spoke. “I do, I think I do.” Ellie
whispered. “When you touch me, I can’t think. I forget to breathe.
I want more, more of whatever it is, whatever is pleasing you at
that moment. I don’t want to let you go; I don’t want to see you
walk away from me. I burn inside.”

Ashberry groaned, his mouth coming down
against hers. She did understand, he realized, fascinated by her
words, wrapping them into his head, wrapping his hands around her
head and holding her still for his plundering mouth.

Alexander had to wait to open the carriage
door while Ellie quickly pinned up her hair, tying her bonnet on
top of it. Flustered, she let Ashberry pin her pelisse closed
before he climbed down and then helped her out.

The inn was not an ‘inn’,
per se
,
at all. It was a respectable two-story house on the outside of a
small village. Mrs. Tate, the woman who owned it, rented rooms to
those she called ‘quality’ travelers and their ‘people.’ She was
pleased to meet Ellie, bustling ahead of them with her large keys
in hand. “Now, my lady, you look quite tired. Your Wendy said you
would like water for a bath, so I’ve already got it in your
room.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Tate,” Ellie whispered
politely.

“You look tired, my lady. Do you feel ill? I
could call the physician.”

The last person Ellie wanted to see was a
doctor. “No, thank you though, Mrs. Tate,” she refused, blushing
when Ashberry looked down at her with a smile. “I think I’ll just
rest for the evening.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Tate smiled, unlocking a
door and ushering them in. “This is my best room, my lady.” She
looked to the lord beside his wife. “I shall bring her supper on a
tray, no?”

“Yes, Mrs. Tate, and I will share mine with
her.”

“Very good, my lord,” she approved, nodding.
“You just let me know if you need anything.” She waved them in,
handing Ashberry the key. “I’ll send those boys of yours up right
away with the bags so the lady can rest.”

Ellie wandered to the window while they
waited, looking down at the dusty coach. “She seems like a nice
woman,” she murmured.

“Yes,” Ashberry answered. “A widow. Her
husband was an officer in the Army. He married her and bought this
house when he sold his commission, then promptly gambled away
everything he had.” He paused, and then concluded, “Except the
house, of course. He managed to die soon after of pneumonia,
leaving the poor woman in dun territory. She started this
enterprise as a way to keep the place.”

Ashberry didn’t tell her that his own father
was the cause of most of the dead Tate’s losses, or that Ashberry
actually had held a marker for the house as well. Mrs. Tate had
long ago earned it back, he reflected, remembering the day he had
slipped it in, cancelled, with a draft for his bill. He, as well as
the Carlisles and the Scottish lairds in Edinburgh, and all their
‘people’ as Mrs. Tate called them, were her primary customers,
though surrounding neighbors in the northern lands were beginning
to stop at the woman’s house for sustenance and rest when they
passed through. She had three ‘quality’ bedrooms, as she said, plus
her own small rooms on the ground floor, and three smaller rooms
above the kitchen for servants.
“Best of all, my ‘boys’, all above the age of forty, won’t need to
sleep in the stables. She hires locals from the village and rents
out the service quarters as well.”