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Authors: Serenity Everton

Tags: #romance, #love story, #Historical Romance, #regency romance, #regency england, #georgian england, #romance 1700s

Embracing Ashberry (13 page)

BOOK: Embracing Ashberry
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“Yes?” she questioned softly.

“From tonight until we arrive at Ashberry
Park, I will not push you to consummate our marriage. But if you do
not come to me before we are home, once we arrive there I will take
you into my bed.”

Ellie’s shoulders did not loosen any more,
but neither did she refuse. “And?”

He couldn’t help but to smile. She was quite
perceptive. “In the intervening time, we will spend a great deal of
time together in ways that courting couples may not but married
couples may, learning about one another, adjusting to one another.”
He paused before adding, “I will go at your pace as much as I am
able, Ella. I will ease you into an intimacy between us one day at
a time.” She nodded, finally relaxing just a single muscle in the
back of her neck. Nevertheless, he noticed and smiled. “You trust
me not to force you tonight?”

Ellie was quiet for a minute before she
answered. “I trust you,” she whispered. In itself, that was a
revelation to her, one she felt deeply and suddenly very
thoroughly. She wrapped the knowledge close to her heart and sighed
happily in silence. Ellie used that trust to force the next
sentence from her throat. “I know you are paying me a great favor.
You could even now have me and I would say naught, for our wedding
gave you such rights. You are truly being generous to me and I wish
... I wish you to understand that I know it.”

Behind her, Ellie could not see Ashberry’s
eyes close as raw feeling and need rocked through him. To have her
acknowledge the totality of their marriage and to offer herself to
him as such was testimony in itself to her trust. He desperately
needed a few moments alone to recover and so his voice was rough
with the remains of his reaction when he spoke. “Ella, I want you
to take off your robe and get into bed while I go to my rooms,
which are just through the door in your boudoir. I will be back in
just a few moments to say goodnight.”

Reluctantly, he loosed his hands from her
shoulders, reminding himself that he had tomorrow to touch them
again. He noticed she waited until the door had shut behind him
before she moved, but he heard her scurrying around her rooms and
smiled to himself. It didn’t take him long to fetch the two gifts
in his own chamber, wondering as he did if he could have made that
same offer had he found her in his own room, staring at the bed he
wished for them to share.

When he returned to the door that linked his
bedchamber to hers, he paused, reminding himself to give her a
little more time. Not that she needed it. He was sure Ellie had
taken the opportunity to cover herself as protectively as
possible.

As he suspected, Ellie was sitting up in the
bed, the blankets drawn around her breasts and carefully arranged
around her. He knew instantly that she had necessarily held court
for visitors like this before, probably her brothers and father,
and knew well how to protect herself from any inadvertent exposés.
Moving around the bed, he closed the curtains on the far side and
the end, leaving the side opened that faced the fire. Approaching
the bed, he set the two boxes near the end before moving to the
fire. He checked it carefully, adding another log to the back of
the flames. He spoke as he stood and turned. “It should last until
morning,” he offered, watching her closely.

She had an interest in his gifts, but dared
not ask about them. Instead, she quickly looked to the fire and
asked in an odd voice, “Why did your parents choose the name Shane
Stephen? It seems such an unusual one.”

He took a seat then, choosing a place that
could not be considered threatening but close enough to still
observe her face in the dim flicker of the room.

Ashberry’s mouth quirked. He couldn’t, would
not ever again, resist the urge to reach out to touch her cheek
with his index finger. His answer was as gentle as his touch.
“Shane was my mother’s mother’s family name. My grandfather brought
her from Ireland against the will of her family and made her his
duchess. My father chose the name as a way to honor my
grandmother’s family as much as to antagonize my grandfather, who
hated the very existence of the Shanes. Stephen is a common name
among my esteemed Ashberry predecessors. There are many portraits
of Stephen Trinity, Marquess of Ashberry along the galleries of
my—our home.” He smiled at her. “Why?”

Ellie shrugged. “You told me in the park one
time that your names were Shane and Stephen. What did your father
call you?”

“He called me Stephen, but my stepmother and
tutor both used Shane.”

“Your aunt and sisters?”

Ashberry smiled even before the answer
slipped from his wry mouth. “Ashberry, usually.”

“What does your portrait say, my lord?” she
challenged.

He smiled before answering. “Nothing, I
haven’t had it painted yet,” he admitted. “I have been waiting to
marry before I bothered, since a portrait of the marchioness is
traditionally done at the same time.” His smile turned rather
wicked. He leaned forward until their noses touched before he
whispered, “I might as well make this point clear now. You will
call me one or the other. If I hear ‘my lord’ out of you one more
time when we are private, I shall do something drastic.”

Ellie’s mouth was suddenly dry and even
though the question was foolish, she couldn’t stop it from coming
out of her mouth. “What?”

“I shall kiss you senseless,” he whispered.
“And not on the forehead.”

 

 

SIX

 

The threat was clear between them, but
Ashberry relaxed it by returning to his former position on the edge
of the mattress. “I have two presents for you,” he announced,
changing the subject.

Ellie couldn’t help but smile at the
offering. “Whatever for?” she asked, clasping her hands
together.

“One for Christmas, which as you know was
yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t have the opportunity to give it to
you then. And the second is part of my wedding gift to you.”

“Part?” Ellie asked, puzzled.

Ashberry had the grace to blush a little. “I
couldn’t decide what to buy for you, Ella dear, so I bought several
things.”

Ellie did laugh at this, and the sound was
truly a gift for Ashberry, for it spoke not just of her enjoyment
of his company but also of the beginnings of trust between them
that he intensely wanted her to discover and welcome openly. It
sang in the silence of the room and he drank it in gratefully. “I’m
afraid I only have—” she started to apologize.

Ashberry shook his head, stopping her.
“Having you here in my house, Ella,” he said seriously, “And with
my name after yours, is as much of a gift as I have ever wished
for.”

Ellie nearly gasped at the elaborate
compliment and she flushed with delight. “Thank you,” she murmured,
looking at him with her heart in her eyes. Clearing her throat, she
continued, voicing her objection. “But I do have a gift for you,
though only one. It is sitting on my dressing table in a white
box.”

Ashberry obediently retrieved it, cradling
the package on his lap as he handed one of the boxes to her, the
smaller of the two. “For Christmas,” he said with a smile.

Ellie looked at him and returned the
expression, nearly undoing Ashberry’s composure. Her smiles to him
had grown more frequent lately, a situation he dearly appreciated.
At first they had been polite, practiced smiles that reached her
eyes and cheeks but kept her inner self reserved. This one, this
curve of her lips was less restrained, nearly happy, and it settled
on him for several long seconds before she untied the ribbon that
was knotted around it.

The plush keepsake box inside was old, but
of the finest velvet. Her eyes widened as she reverently held the
case in her hand. “It was my mother’s,” Ashberry admitted, and
Ellie raised her eyes to his in amazement. Her fingers trembling,
she opened the case, her mouth opening in delight. Inside was a
chain of the finest gold, with a cross of diamonds and rubies inset
into a golden crucifix that hung from it. She traced it reverently,
hardly daring to disturb it in its box.

Ashberry had no such qualms. He took the box
from her and lifted out the jewels, and with a practiced ease that
amazed her, slid each end of the chain around her neck. His fingers
stroked the skin there as he fumbled with the catch behind her
neck, and then again as he shortened it to raise the cross until it
lay below her neck, the bottom dangling just at the edge of where
the blanket was wrapped closely around her.

Ellie’s eyes teared when Ashberry pulled
back. “I cry a lot,” she said shakily, causing him to chuckle.

He wiped one of the tears away from the
corner of her eye. “I know,” he smiled at her. “Do you like
it?”

“Of course,” she managed, daring to be
astonished.

“The rest of Mother’s jewelry and all of the
marchioness’ jewels are in the safe at Ashberry Park—you can choose
what you want of it when we get there.” He shrugged a little. “Many
of the older pieces won’t be to your taste and my stepmother
Elizabeth’s jewelry I divided between my brothers and sisters, but
there are a number of pieces that will complement you
beautifully.”

Ellie smiled a little. “They treasure the
keepsakes of their mother, I’m sure.” She wanted him to know that
she didn’t feel any loss.

Ashberry’s eyes twinkled a little. “Caroline
and Charlotte certainly enjoy their share.”

“It’s your turn,” Ellie prompted, gesturing
to the box on his lap.

His head tilted as he considered the box
carefully. “What would you choose for me?” he asked quietly. “Do
you know me well enough to choose a gift yet?”

Ellie’s voice was teasing then in reply, and
the sound warmed Ashberry’s blood. He supposed he would grow
accustomed to the effect her voice had on him, but he was
determined to enjoy it for that night. “Perhaps I don’t. Though I
apparently know you well enough to do your mending now.”

The reference to the common wifely chore
made him smile. “I’ll have to find some shirts for you to repair,”
he murmured in return. “In whatever spare time I allow you away
from my side,” he added more suggestively, grazing her with a look
he hoped she would know meant desire.

Ellie knew. Instinct could guide any woman
to conclude as much when her husband’s eyes were as intense as
Ashberry’s every time he looked in her direction. She blushed,
grateful when Ashberry’s suddenly satisfied gaze turned to the gift
on his lap. He had it open quickly, smiling as he pulled out two
handkerchiefs on which Ellie had embroidered his coat of arms.
“These are fantastic,” he murmured. “I suppose you had no trouble
finding a sketch of this crest to use as a pattern.”

Ellie smiled, satisfied by his pleasure.
“Your aunt provided me with one,” she admitted.

“There is something else in the bottom,” she
added, directing him back to the box.

Ashberry quickly found what had given the
box weight under a piece of fine paper. It was a flat package,
nearly square, and wrapped in a plain paper. “I found this,” Ellie
explained, “In a shop near the old City. I wasn’t looking for it,
but I think you’ll know what it is when you see it.” Hesitantly,
she added, “You might have it already.”

He looked at her curiously, untying the
string and letting the paper fall away. “Oh Ella,” he whispered as
he held up a book with a sketch of Ashberry Castle inlaid on its
cover. “I do know it.” He looked at her sharply. “How did you?”

“Inside the front cover,” she told him,
guiding him to turn open the front page. “It says the name of the
castle. But I still wouldn’t have even glanced at it if I hadn’t
seen the painting that is hung over the dining room fireplace
downstairs.”

“This must be two hundred years old,” he
murmured, opening up the text. “Have you read it?”

Ellie shook her head. “No, I cannot read
Latin very well, but the man who had it told me it was a history of
the defense of England against Scottish invaders, written and
dedicated to James I when he became king of both countries. The
author apparently thought that a unified crown would mean peace—and
a reunion with Rome.”

Ashberry smiled at her gently and couldn’t
resist reaching out to cup her cheek in his hand. “You do know me,”
he murmured, clearly pleased with his gift. “But now you must open
your wedding present, though I’m afraid it will seem silly when
compared to this treasure.”

From the look on his face, Ellie wasn’t sure
if the treasure he referred to was the book or his bride. Deciding
it didn’t really matter, she untied the ribbon on the final box.
“How could you possibly improve on your Christmas gift?” she asked
seriously.

“In fact, the necklace was hardly a gift at
all, since I had planned always to present it to my wife, or at
least to Sebastian’s wife.” He gestured to the box, still unopened
in her lap. “This one will be an improvement since I actually had
to buy it and not just retrieve it from the strongbox.”

Ellie smiled at his distinction and
carefully opened the box. It was larger than the first, but not by
much and she gently removed the papers that covered the contents
inside. “Oh,” she breathed in delight, lifting out a delicately
wrought silver brooch inlaid with emeralds and diamonds. The pin
was made in the shape of a rose, with the diamonds outlining the
petals and the emeralds forming its stems and leaves. “How
incredibly beautiful,” she sighed, examining it closely. “The
detail is amazing.”

Ashberry was pleased by her response and
smiled as he gathered up the empty boxes, stacking them neatly
together and setting them aside. He grinned at her tiny pout when
he took the brooch and laid it in a place of honor on the bedside
table. “You can enjoy it tomorrow,” he told her, and Ellie laughed
at his mock sternness.

With more seriousness, and the intensity
that Ellie was beginning to associate with his attentions to her,
he sat close beside her and reached behind her neck, unfastening
the necklace. His fingers lingered just a few seconds beyond what
one might have considered proper but he did not fondle her nape
long enough make her uncomfortable. He settled it carefully beside
the brooch but did not move away, and Ellie stilled, waiting for
him to speak. When he did, his voice was soft and regretful. “I’m
about to return to the subject we were discussing in your dressing
room.” He took one of her hands in his and held it close to his
lips, brushing a soft kiss against the back of her fingers. “I want
you to agree to my proposal.”

BOOK: Embracing Ashberry
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