Embracing Ashberry (23 page)

“Of course, my lord,” the man replied as
quietly. “If she insists on returning to Ashberry House before your
return, I will escort her myself.”

“I’ll be at White’s. Send a message.”
Ashberry watched his wife disappear inside the house before
concluding, “Good day to you, Fields.”

“And to you, my lord,” the butler answered,
watching as the marquess climbed up into his seat and drove
away.

The message came nearly an hour after
Ashberry had arrived at the club, as he read the newssheet
published that morning. He grimaced as he unfolded the note,
delivered by messenger. It was simple and to the point, though the
butler’s penmanship was excellent.

I am escorting Lady E to Ashberry House. She
is quite flustered. F.

Ashberry said nothing to the gentlemen in
the club beyond a simple farewell. He arrived home promptly, where
Alexander quickly had the door open for him. The man did not wait
for him to ask. “She went to her sitting room, my lord. I spoke
with Fields, he said her father and Edward came home during her
call and she wished to leave almost immediately, while her father
and mother were arguing. Fields asked me to give you a message:
Edward will come by late tonight to see you.”

The marquess listened even as he stripped
off his greatcoat and hat. Alexander had to follow him up the
stairs to finish the message, for Ashberry was intent on his wife.
To the butler, he said only, “We may be awhile. No interruptions.”
Alexander watched his lord stride away, purposeful in his step, and
when he returned to his duties, the concern showed clearly on his
face.

Inside the sitting room, Ellie sat on a
sofa, staring blindly ahead of her. Her face was dry but Ashberry
did not hesitate. The redness of her eyes and the stiffness of her
posture were all the indications he needed. Without speaking, he
bent beside her and lifted her into his arms.

She did not fight him. Instead, she turned
her head to his shoulder, pressing her face there. He carried her
only as far as the nearest armchair, settling into it as the sobs
began.

He held her there, unmoving, silent until
she quieted against him. Until she whispered, “I don’t know him at
all. I never did.”

“Your father?” he asked, for
clarification.

“When he came in,” she explained, “The only
thing he said to me was ‘I knew you’d be back.’”

Ashberry held his breath for a moment as he
forced the anger forming inside him back down into his lungs. He
kissed the top of her head and waited, knowing Ellie well enough
now to tell that she hadn’t finished.

“I didn’t know what to say but Mama was very
angry. We’d had a nice visit, you know, and I had said my goodbyes
to Richard and John. She started to scold him, as she does, and
Edward took me by the hand and led me nearly to the door.”

“And?”

“Papa. He, he got very angry, angrier than
I’ve ever seen him. He, he said that Edward needn’t take Mama’s
side and force me out of the room and back to you, that I should
stay at home where I belonged. He told Edward that you didn’t want
me, that I was too ashamed to admit that you had brought me to ask
if I could come home to stay.” She shifted a little against him,
until Ashberry curled an arm around her back so that he could press
her head against him.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead as
she added, “I didn’t know what to say, so I just turned around and
walked out. Edward came after me and told Fields to bring me home.
I think Edward knew how ... upset I was, that I wouldn’t want to
wait for him to calm Papa down. Anyway, he said he had to go back
upstairs, that he couldn’t leave Mama with Papa behaving like
that.”

Ashberry drew a deep breath. The pain in her
voice was clear and sorrowful and a ball of anger formed in his
stomach. “You’re safe,” he murmured, “And I won’t let anyone, even
your father, hurt you anymore, Ella dear.”

She shuddered against him, the trembling so
intense that he held her against him for dear life. His hug was
nearly crushing but she didn’t seem to mind, only pressed her nose
against him and sobbed again.

Her question was a whisper, so soft that he
could hardly discern it. “He wasn’t right, was he?”

“Your father?” Ashberry rubbed her back
through the silk of her gown, frowning at the corset constricting
her form. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, his voice
quiet. “No, Ella dear, he’s not right. There is nothing on this
earth that I want more than you, nothing that could ever allow me
to send you away from me. You’re mine, my dear, and I will want you
to remain so for as long as God gives us.”

She seemed to settle at his reassurance,
nodding against him. For many long minutes, he just held her,
occasionally kissing her forehead, stroking her hair, even rubbing
her neck and back. He kept one hand on her thighs or around her
waist and held her firmly with the other. Mostly, though, he just
thought. Not about Ellie, though occasionally the curve of her
breasts would penetrate his mind. Mostly, he thought about her
father, for Ashberry’s mind was concentrated on the baron’s
irrational and oddly possessive behavior whenever he interacted
with the girl.

It wasn’t until much later that he realized
Ellie was asleep. Her breathing had slowed, so he eased her back
onto his arm, pleased when she rolled toward him, her body trusting
even though her mind did not fully.

He sighed before he lifted her into his
arms. She did not wake, though he carried her through to her
chamber and laid her carefully on the bed. He called for the maid
to sit with her before he descended the stairs, hardly surprised to
find the butler ready with a question. “Is her ladyship well?”

“She’ll be fine, Alexander,” he replied
carefully. “Summon all the senior staff, including Riley, to my
study. I think we may have a problem.”

In no time, Ashberry faced his loyal staff.
“Under no circumstances are you to provide Lord Whitney with
admittance to the house and especially not to my wife unless I give
my permission. In addition, any inquiries from him about his
daughter are to be directed to me, immediately. The same will apply
to Ashberry Park. Alexander, I trust you will convey my wishes to
the staff there.”

Their faces were concerned and Ashberry
looked at each carefully as he spoke. “In addition, our lady will
not visit the Whitney house unless I accompany her. I will be
seeking information about the baron himself in my absence. I will
explain my purpose to Riley, who will organize the investigation.”
The servants said nothing—Riley was on the staff because the
marquess found him useful in a number of ways unrelated to the
dinner table or front hall and they were accustomed to his role as
investigator and rumor chaser.

Only Alexander asked a question. “Does the
same apply to our lady’s siblings and mother, my lord?” he
asked.

Ashberry paused for a moment then shook his
head. “No, I am only concerned with the baron himself. Your lady
will decide when she is available to the others and when not—and I
should expect Lady Whitney and her sons tomorrow, Alexander, as
well as my sisters. You will bring Edward Whitney directly to me
when he arrives tonight?”

“Of course, my lord,” Alexander answered
smoothly.

“I realize we will not be in residence much
longer, and that you have not had much of an opportunity to develop
a relationship with Lady Ashberry. However, I would remind you that
she is my wife and I will protect and defend her at all costs. Am I
clear?”

He was. Satisfied by their answers, he
dismissed them all except Riley and settled into his chair, still
deep in thought. To the underbutler, his words were quiet and
contemplative, filled with a deep concern that the ex-pickpocket
understood. Ashberry had met Riley at Eton and the two had been
together ever since. It was Riley who Ashberry entrusted with his
most sensitive papers, Riley who had been the intermediary when
Ashberry found himself holding unpaid markers from members of the
ton
to his father and Riley who had saved his life on the
streets of London, for Ashberry had taken the young ne’er-do-well
and given him the resources to transform himself him into a loyal,
muscular and literate assistant.

It wasn’t until the conversation was
finished that Ashberry inquired after his brothers. Hearing that
they had not yet returned from their expedition to Tattersall’s and
then Hyde Park, accompanied by Sebastian, he returned to Ellie’s
bedside, dismissing the maid with a nod of his head.

He turned the armchair they had shared to
face her and sat quietly until she awoke. When she stirred, he
stood and moved to sit beside her on the bed, unsurprised that she
chose to sit rather than remain lying with him above her. “Good
evening,” he murmured.

Ellie blinked her eyes, flushing as his eyes
passed over her. “Hello,” she finally returned. “I didn’t mean to
fall asleep.”

“The rest, I’m sure, was good for you,” he
said dismissively before taking her hands in his. “Will you be able
to manage dinner with my brothers?”

“Will you be there?” she asked, seriously
considering for a moment the prospect of a tray in her own
room.

He nodded. “I will not leave you alone,
Ella, unless you wish it.”

“In truth,” Ellie admitted haltingly, “I do
not wish to be alone.” She swallowed. “I have to confess to you
that this afternoon maybe I was running away from you, at least for
a few hours,” she admitted. “But it was a disaster, wasn’t it?”

The marquess squeezed her hands then
released them to run his thumbs down her cheeks. “You did nothing
wrong in going to visit your family, Ella.”

She shook her head. “I know that running
away doesn’t work, Ashberry,” she objected. “And I won’t do it
again.” Her eyes met his, clearly and without fear.

He accepted her promise without exclamation
and then told her, “Edward will be coming to see me tonight, so do
not be offended when we shut ourselves away in my study.”

“I won’t,” she whispered. “He was protecting
me again. If he hadn’t been there,” she worried, biting her lip, “I
would probably still be there, with Papa screaming at Mama and I
both.”

Ashberry smiled a little. “I would have
rescued you before now, sweet Ella,” he objected and then rejoiced
when her lips curved just slightly. “And I will prevent any repeats
of the incident,” he added more seriously.

“How?” she asked, suspicions rising.

“You, dear Ella, are not to go to your
parents’ house unless I go with you,” he said firmly and Ellie
stiffened. She recognized the tone as one that would not tolerate
objections but could not in good conscience abandon her mother.
Ashberry stopped her objection with a finger laid gently on her
lips. “Your mother will undoubtedly call on you tomorrow, will she
not?” At Ellie’s nod, he continued, “And the next morning we will
be leaving. Promise me that you will not make any foolish attempts
to see your father before then.”

Ellie frowned. “I have never seen him act
like he did,” she worried. “What if he hurt Mama?”

Ashberry’s brow curved with concern, for he
had the same thoughts. “I will be discussing the situation with
Edward and we will address all your worries. Now promise me,” he
insisted.

Ellie knew she was defeated and truth be
told, she was relieved that she could defer the burdens of her
concern to Ashberry. “I promise,” she said softly, wondering at how
easy it was. She speculated whether he knew how much she entrusted
to him, even as she shared, “Mama told me that Papa wants to return
to Cornwall at the end of the month for the hunting season.” She
grimaced. “I don’t think she wanted to go. Mama has resisted going
back ever since we left.”

Ashberry nodded, tucking the information
inside his head, knowing he would pass it on to Riley. “It’s not
quite time to dress for dinner. Is there anything you need to do
this afternoon or would you like simply to rest?”

The question was solicitous and Ellie was
grateful for his thoughtfulness. “Actually,” she murmured
regretfully, “There is. I need to speak with Winters and Mrs.
Shannon—and Banning, I forgot—before we leave and I thought to do
it this afternoon.”

The marquess nodded, standing and helping
her from the bed. He took the time to shake out her skirts, knowing
she blushed even as he performed the small task. “Just practicing,”
he smiled wickedly until she turned away, her cheeks red.

When she turned back and waved him out of
the room, he retreated graciously, a smile on his face.

* * * *

Ellie dressed carefully for dinner, though
she wasn’t quite sure why. The gown she chose wasn’t what she
particularly wanted but most of her wardrobe had already left for
Cumbria. It was lustrous, sunny yellow silk with an overskirt of
loosely woven white lace. The yellow silk bodice was fitted high
around her neck and had small pearl buttons that had to be fastened
from neck to the vee-shaped waistline, and Ellie determined she
would wear no jewelry to interfere with the rampant simplicity that
shaped her curves so gracefully. Her hair, as well, was arranged
simply, with her hairpins arranged in a pretty circle and the
entire chignon covered by a lace cap she had made herself several
years earlier. In fact, she thought critically as she looked in the
mirror, there was hardly anything outstanding about it at all.
Except for one touch that she hoped Ashberry would notice.

He did, of course. The marquess came in the
dressing room just as she was donning her gloves and his eyes lit
with a smile as he surveyed her. “Very charming,” he pronounced,
taking one hand in his and turning her in a circle. When she faced
him again, his eyes had a proprietary twinkle that Ellie thought
for certain to be a mixture of pride and desire. “And quite daring
for you.”