Embracing Ashberry (40 page)

She contemplated whether Ashberry would
sacrifice even his welcome and their trust if he deemed it
necessary for her mental or physical health, but concluded it
wasn’t worth the risk. If she used their bed as a weapon and
failed, she would cause herself as much pain and loneliness as she
did him. The savagery in his voice when he had spoken of the
‘rodent’ indicated that he would not tolerate interference from
anyone, even someone he treasured as openly as he did Ellie. And,
she knew, he was edging Edward down that same path—one fraught with
sexism and danger even under the best of intentions.

Ellie thought over her plan as she
breakfasted, finding its holes, questioning every outcome and
measuring every risk. Ashberry did not appear until she was nearly
finished and his eyes lit with undisguised pleasure to see her
lingering over her teacup. Ellie, after a thoroughly inappropriate
kiss unintentionally interrupted by Alexander, nearly had to back
out of the room, for Ashberry’s eyes were just a little too yellow
for her morning to be as productive as she intended. She escaped
through the kitchens, leaving a message for Ashberry that she had
gone out with Jules and Peter to visit the markets, breathing a
sigh of relief only when they wandered among the aisles of farm
girls with their wares.

Instead of returning to the house after the
markets closed, she visited a modiste on Bond Street that Caroline
had recommended, and after several hours of perusing the exquisite
fabrics and planning a few purchases, the clocks had finally turned
to a semi-respectable hour. With a smile to the seamstress, she
arranged to have the entire bill sent to her husband, wondering how
he would react to the outrageous sum and deciding immediately that
not a pound had been wasted no matter what his reaction.

Ellie arrived on Charlotte’s doorstep
without much thought to her brother. Unfortunately, he was still at
home and met her in the front hall. Ellie made light of her own
presence, saying only that she hadn’t seen Charlotte’s nursery
since the women had begun cloistering themselves in Caroline’s
sitting room. Edward’s face relaxed into an easy smile—he was proud
of the tender care Charlotte had spent in preparing it and allowed
her to proceed up the stairs without further comment. She did visit
the nursery, listening as Charlotte described with pride the time
they had spent cleaning, sewing and decorating. It was obvious that
she had devoted herself in those rooms, and even Lady Whitney had a
smile for the joy on Charlotte’s face.

Ellie forced herself to wait, patiently, for
Edward to come and take his leave. “I have business,” he told
Charlotte, and then had whispered a few soft words in her ears that
both heightened her color and widened her smile.

The smile didn’t last long after he left. As
soon as Ellie was sure he had quit the house, when she rose and
stood by the window and saw his chaise drive away, as soon as Ellie
repeated Edward and Ashberry’s words to her mother and
sister-in-law, Charlotte’s smile was no more.

Her eye flashed with a fury Ellie was sure
meant trouble for her sibling. “It wouldn’t do,” she warned
Charlotte, “To let them know that we are aware of their plans.” Her
voice trembled as she explained. “I don’t think it would stop
Edward and I know Ashberry—he would send me away or lock me in my
room if I tried to stop him.” Her eyes rested on Charlotte’s
stomach. “And it would be worse for you if Ashberry even suspected
you might try and stop him—he would convince Edward you were
endangering the baby.”

Ellie carefully watched her mother, but
other than her pale face and pained eyes, Lady Whitney’s face gave
away nothing. Her words were quiet. “I pray Ashberry is wrong,
Ellie, but his current information is accurate. Your father kept a
mistress in London. He didn’t cut her off until we decided it was
time to take you to London. He said, then, that he didn’t wish to
see her anymore but I was sure that there was something about their
relationship he didn’t want Society to discuss that would damage
your prospects or perhaps filter back to the boys or I.” She
sighed, “But I was too intimidated by him to find out what it
was.”

Charlotte’s jaw was set tightly, her eyes
burning. “He told me, you know,” she seethed, “That they had some
information about your father that the two of them were going to
pursue.” Her fingers clenched in her lap. “But he didn’t say they
were planning to kill anyone. Or meet alone with a ... a loose
woman in the process!”

“Only if they find the man,” Ellie calmed
her. “And I, for one, don’t intend to let it get to the point where
they do.”

Charlotte straightened, her eyes focused
suddenly on Ellie. “You have a plan to stop them?” she asked
incredulously, then a moment later continued more calmly, “Tell
me.”

In some ways, fate intervened. Caroline
began her labor the next Wednesday, the night Ashberry and Edward
planned their small adventure. Edward, as predicted by Charlotte,
had told her a large part of the truth—which was that they were to
meet an informant’s of Ashberry’s that evening. The news from
Eldenwood House came after Ashberry left for his mysterious
‘business meeting’ and Ellie quickly changed her mind about going
to Charlotte’s. The women met at Eldenwood House instead.

Ellie and Charlotte both knew that they
would not be permitted to see Caroline when the pains became
severely close but at her bedside they visited and discussed their
plans. No longer would they need to convince Benjamin, Ashberry’s
driver, that his lordship was in danger. Instead, Benjamin was sent
home until he was summoned to return her ladyship to Ashberry
House, and at Caroline’s breathless insistence, the Eldenwood
carriage was called and two footmen, large and muscular ones, and a
driver duly assigned to accompany the determined women.

“Are you certain Eldenwood will not be
angry?” Ellie asked softly, squeezing her sister-in-law’s hand.

“I’m sure,” Caroline answered positively.
“He is at Watier’s, you know, probably until late. My pains didn’t
begin until after dinner, when I had already sent him off for a few
hours to enjoy himself; the poor man has been haunting the halls
for the last few days. I haven’t let the staff summon him yet—he
won’t be able to do anything but fret anyway.” She stopped and took
a heavy breath as a pain wracked her. “Though I may have to relent
soon and call for him to come and sit with me.”

With Caroline’s blessing and concerned hugs
from the older women, Ellie and Charlotte donned heavy black
pelisses and covered their faces with veils before being assisted
into the carriage. Ellie’s instructions to the driver were quiet
and succinct, and the carriage was soon waiting outside the opera
house. The intermission was ending and most of the crowds were
strolling back inside the theatre, except for two men and a
graceful, proudly erect woman they were guiding outside.

The Eldenwood crest was clearly visible on
the side of the coach and Ashberry’s face was priceless when he
recognized it. Ellie and Charlotte both watched their spouses as
one of Caroline’s liveried footmen delivered his sister’s message
to Ashberry. “My lord,” the young man bowed, “My pardon. Lady
Eldenwood says it is urgent and to please come at once.” He drew a
deep breath, his voice more confiding and serious. “It is the baby,
my lord. She specifically asked for you and Lady Charlotte said to
look here first.”

Ashberry clearly did not wish to leave the
quarry he still held between himself and Edward, but his loyalty to
his sister was deep, as Caroline had well known. He paused in
indecision. Edward’s face was drawn with worry as well and it was
he who said to the woman, “Would you object to joining us in the
carriage? We could discuss our business more privately there and we
will arrange for you to arrive home discreetly in a hired cab.”

The marquess’ eyes were sharp now. Ashberry
didn’t particularly wish to be seen handing a known
madame
, even one as expensive as the woman beside him,
into yet another brother-in-law’s coach. Eldenwood, Ashberry mused,
might find the gossip amusing, but Caroline would not.

There was no help for it, of course. The
woman nodded her head serenely and the footman hurriedly led them
to the coach. Charlotte and Ellie sat opposite inside the coach,
hardly breathing in the shadows, when the woman was handed up. She
looked at them in surprise but nodded when Ellie’s finger touched
her mouth silently, asking the woman to be silent. The woman
assented without a word, simply taking a seat near the door as
Edward climbed inside the carriage. His eyes took in the dark
figures in the far seats and he scowled, turning to the marquess
entering behind.

A jerk of the head was all Edward said.
Ashberry’s jaw tightened as Ellie slid over in the seat closer to
her husband. “I believe I should explain, Ashberry,” she said
gently before the disbelief on his face turned to anger. She turned
to the woman across from her. “My name is Lady Ella Ashberry,” she
said as she pushed back her veil. “My husband, as you know, is
seeking some information about Lord Whitney, who is my father.”

“And my husband’s father,” Charlotte chimed
in, uncovering her own face.

Ashberry’s gaze burned at both women while
Edward could hardly grasp his wife’s presence. “What are you doing
here?” the young man seethed, pressing his hand to Charlotte’s
belly. The babe kicked in response.

Charlotte answered defensively. “I’m taking
a carriage ride, Edward, not riding a hunter through the fields or
lifting casks of wine. And,” she said to the whole carriage, her
voice unrelenting, “I’m staying involved until I know that Edward
won’t lose his head over something foolish so you’d better settle
this matter quickly before Edward’s heir decides to join us.”

Ellie smiled at the woman, who seemed now
amazed by the presence of the two ladies. Ignoring her husband, she
asked the woman, “We know that you were my father’s mistress for
several years—my mother says five—and that you knew much about Papa
that we didn’t. For a variety of reasons, it is important to us now
to find out as much as we can about my father. Can you tell us
anything?”

The woman’s voice was quiet. Her accent was
muted from long years in England, but the original sound was
somehow musical. “It was five years, as you say.” She waved her
hand dismissively. “As to what he didn’t want his family to
discover?” She frowned, squinting as she examined Edward’s face,
clearly taking in the similarities between father and son. “That he
was violent with me?” She gestured to Charlotte and spoke
forcefully, abruptly. “You look much like your papa and I imagine
are much like him in other ways as well. You know not to hit the
girl while she is with child?”

Stunned by the woman’s question, Edward’s
jaw opened. He forgot to close it, even when Charlotte answered for
him, the tone amused. “My dear woman, thank you for your concern
but allow me to assure you that if Edward ever raised his hand to
me, he would find himself in more pain than he has ever
imagined.”

“That’s true,” Ashberry said grimly. “Before
I allowed my baby sisters to wander through London’s ballrooms, I
taught them how to incapacitate a man, and for what reasons it was
justified.” His voice remained tight, unyielding, but his next
words were to the stranger among them. “Whitney beat you?”

The woman’s eyes opened wide as she took in
the looks being passed between the other four occupants of the
carriage. “Yes,” she answered easily, “He angered easily, and I
seemed often to be the one bearing poor news.”

Ellie winced, knowing the question was
necessary. “What sort of news?”

The woman regarded her carefully,
considering. It was unnerving to be appraised in that way but Ellie
had long been accustomed to strange looks. Her skittish behavior,
particularly in Germany, had brought many questioning looks and her
seclusion in London had often brought consideration from the
matrons when she accompanied her mother in the park or while
shopping. Ellie met her gaze with a non-verbal plea to answer
honestly.

The woman sighed, frowning. “The matter is
hardly fit for polite conversation but as you are his children and
it is certain that you have your reasons, I shall answer as
straightforwardly as possible.”

“Please do,” Ashberry murmured. Between
them, he felt for Ellie’s hand and clasped it in his own, squeezing
comfortably.

Ellie felt some of the tension drain from
her as the marquess squeezed her hand. She did not doubt he was
angry over her interference, but neither was he so lost to his ire
that he would leave her to hear the news unassisted. She pressed
her fingers in return but did not turn away from the woman.

Her answer was quiet, emotionless. “He had
acquired, about nine years ago, a large debt to a ... an unsavory
man known in the streets as the Hamster. I know because it was
about the time he ... discovered me and set me up in a little house
in the East End. I believe he contracted the loan to pay gambling
debts because after the payments began, I never saw your father
gamble again. The man charged a significant interest, which he paid
regularly, but for whatever reason, Whitney was unwilling to pay
the principal of the debt.” She shrugged. “I often was the one
forced to tell him that the Hamster had demanded additional funds
to continue the loan.”

“The Hamster?” Ashberry frowned. “He’s been
dead near two years now.”

“Yes,” the woman replied softly. “His death
occurred while Whitney was in Europe. It was the only way to clear
the debt without paying the man and I believe Whitney had been
gambling all along—that the interest the man charged would amount
to less than the principal of the thing. After all, every debtor to
the Hamster had a reason to kill the shark: their own lives hung in
forfeit if they defaulted.”