Embracing Ashberry (6 page)

He did not discourage her blush, was even
gratified to see it, but allowed her to step back and remove
herself from the room with all the efficiency and grace of one her
size and age. Indeed, he waited even until the butler shut the
doors behind him before turning to Edward, knowing even as he did
so that perhaps a battle greater than the one he had just won was
before him.

Edward did not disappoint him. The young
man, having also risen, was not as tall as Ashberry, but he met the
marquess eye to eye and with little fear. "Do not think, Ashberry,
that because I am devoted to your sister that I shall not protect
my own."

Ashberry's jaw tightened. "I would think
less of you if you did," he returned steadily.

Abruptly, Edward took a seat again. "Good."
The man waved Ashberry back to his seat, and to the marquess'
surprise, he obeyed the gesture. Sharply, Edward met his intent
gaze. "Discussion of this present matter, to be appropriate, should
wait until my father comes home," he finally desisted, his meaning
clear. "I am not blind, you know."

"I didn't expect you were," Ashberry
murmured calmly. He had wondered if Edward was as committed to Ella
Whitney's spinsterhood as Whitney was. From Edward's comment,
Ashberry guessed that in this matter, the son would follow in the
steps of his father.

"Good," Edward said shortly, still wary.
"And the business for which you called?"

Smoothly, Ashberry told him, drawing him
deep into the discussion while the two moved from the drawing room
to the library, the subject of Ella Whitney dropped, but hardly
forgotten.

THREE

It wasn't until the next afternoon that Ashberry
faced Lord Whitney and Edward in the Whitney study. All the
expressions in the room were sober, for none of the three had any
pretense about why the baron had sent around a note insisting that
the marquess call as soon as possible.

Still, no one spoke until Lord Whitney handed
Ashberry his drink. "Lady Whitney greatly enjoyed herself two
nights ago," the baron finally said. "Lady Charlotte will be an
excellent hostess."

The marquess nodded shortly. He knew the remark was
simply to steer the conversation to their families. "I will relay
your sentiments to my sister," he murmured, taking a sip of the
brandy.

"I do have one concern," Whitney continued, sitting
in his chair and calmly observing Ashberry's posture, his eyes
penetrating in intensity.

Ashberry raised his eyebrows, inviting the other man
to continue.

"To be frank, Ashberry," Whitney began cautiously,
"I was quite surprised, as was Edward, to witness you making
advances toward my daughter." He cleared his throat. "As you are
aware, she is not in society yet and is unaccustomed to such ...
flirtation." After a short pause, he finished cautiously, "We would
not want her to ... misunderstand your politeness, particularly
given the timing of your call to this house yesterday."

The marquess knew to proceed cautiously. The baron
was attempting to warn him off by appealing to Ella's innocence and
a natural misconception regarding her age. Still, a single mistake
at this juncture could damage his entire relationship with the
Whitney family, though he was sure it would not prevent a match
with Ella Whitney completely. "It is my understanding, Whitney,
that your daughter is twenty-one years of age," he finally replied.
"Expecting me to treat her as if she is in the schoolroom is
insulting to both of us."

The baron frowned. Considering his opponent, he
asked softly, "And yesterday, when you were alone with her in my
own drawing room? Is that, too, considered appropriate for a young,
unmarried woman and a man of your position?"

Ashberry cleared his throat. The greatest risk to
him today, of course, was revealing his intentions earlier than he
had planned, and even that could possibly work to his advantage.
The baron undoubtedly thought to press first the advantage of the
compromising nature of his encounter with Ellie the day before, and
then to release the marquess from its implications on Ashberry's
word that no such meeting would occur again.

Such a script would leave Ellie's innocent
participation intact while avoiding any question as to why the
baron might want to release Ashberry from any obligation to his
daughter. It was, Ashberry concluded, an excellent plan assuming
he, as society had reluctantly concluded after the family had
arrived in London, was intent on avoiding marriage for the moment.
Of course, Ashberry mused inwardly, the baron had no way of knowing
that finding a particularly special bride had just vaulted to the
top of his personal objectives.

The danger was that the baron would have no
compunction about sending his daughter to the country, falsely
pretending a relapse of her supposed condition or some other family
emergency. With such a scenario in mind, he replied carefully, "I
was not flirting with your daughter, Whitney. I found her company
at dinner two nights ago to be quite charming. I expressed such
sentiments to her yesterday, where I was waiting for your son, when
she came to the drawing room and offered me a cup of tea."

Edward frowned and interrupted. "My sister's charm
is not of concern, Ashberry, as you well know. The issue is this:
you were quite alone with her yesterday when I arrived, and had
been for a significant amount of time. You knew she does not
actively participate in the ton and would therefore not understand
that here in London it is considered ... unacceptable for a young
woman of her age and breeding to receive a gentleman of any
standing, particularly an unmarried nobleman. We both know that the
appropriate thing to do in such a situation would have been to
excuse yourself from the house. And yet you did nothing but sit and
enjoy a cup of tea, leaving her with the impression that she had
behaved correctly."

Ashberry refrained, just barely, from informing the
man that Miss Whitney's knowledge of etiquette was not his
responsibility. If he had his way, it was likely that it would be,
and sooner rather than later.

Still, he could not help but frown slightly as he
replied. "Are you claiming to have not been gifted with the same
respect in my house?" cunningly turning the conversation to trap
the boy. Edward did not have the practice that the elder Whitney
would have at such a conversation and Ashberry was amazed that
Whitney had permitted Edward to speak at all. "In my opinion, it is
not a question of tonnish expectations, in which case you should
never have been allowed through my front door, but of respect. I
did nothing yesterday that might be misconstrued as less than the
highest respect for your sister, you or any member of your
family."

Edward's eyes flashed, but he held his temper, a
trait Ashberry reluctantly admired while dutifully ignoring the red
flush that appeared on the younger man's neck. Still, Edward's
words demonstrated his naiveté with the art of sparring that both
Ashberry and Whitney practiced daily. "I knew, quite soon, that my
intentions toward your sister were perfectly honorable," he finally
returned bitingly.

However honorable Edward's intentions had been,
Ashberry knew that the young man had thrown down a gauntlet
Ashberry couldn't ignore. The marquess looked directly to Lord
Whitney, who was quite aware of Edward's unintended challenge and
had nearly blanched at Edward's audacious mistake.

Still, Whitney seemed unwilling or unable to find
the words to relieve Ashberry of the burden Edward placed on him.
Apparently, Ashberry thought to himself, Whitney believed that
Ashberry would apologize and withdraw, though that course of action
was actually the furthest from the marquess' mind. The only
remaining question was how he would react to Ashberry's reply. The
marquess was not nearly so confident to think that Whitney would
leap for joy to find his daughter clearly in a peer's sights.

Ashberry sighed mentally though practice kept his
face perfectly impassive. He set his drink down on the table beside
him and crossed his arms, his eyes meeting Edward's steadily, his
words hard with censure. "I had planned to keep my own intentions
to myself a while longer and court your sister properly until after
you and Charlotte were married, to determine if we would truly
suit, but your accusation leaves me with no choice but to make my
interest known now. I intend to seek your sister's hand."

Dead silence reigned in the study as Ashberry turned
toward the baron, ignoring the flicker of respect that Edward
couldn't quite hide from his face. Ashberry wondered instantly if
perhaps Edward had known precisely what he was doing, but he shoved
the thought away for later consideration. At the moment, the
thoughts of the girl's father were of primary importance. Whitney's
stony gaze was not unexpected. He was obviously not going to throw
his daughter's welfare out the window and welcome Ashberry to the
family, but rejecting the marquess outright would be beyond
gauche.

Whitney held up his hand to indicate that Edward
should be silent. Finally, he replied, his words carrying a great
burden that Ashberry understood more than he could allow the baron
to know. "I am relieved to know that you are not playing my
daughter's affections. However, I am not certain she would welcome
a suit from any man, even an honorable peer of your rank. She has
no plans to marry—anyone."

Ashberry had no intention of forcing Whitney to
explain why his daughter would refuse. He was quite conscious of
the man's careful wording. The man did not wish to alienate a
richer and more powerful influence in England, not to mention an
in-law and political ally. Instead, he focused on the opening
Whitney had left by presenting Ellie's marital status as her own
choice.

"Perhaps, then, we might find a way to ascertain if
Miss Whitney would be interested in exploring such a liaison."

Whitney pursed his lips. "To be unstintingly blunt,
I am not convinced she would make a good wife for you, Ashberry. My
daughter is not at all interested in society or politics, in
entertaining, or even in London. We planned to stay only until
Edward is settled and then return to Cornwall with her. She did not
wish to stay here."

The marquess shrugged negligently. "Frankly,
Whitney, I abhor London. Like you, I stay here only until Charlotte
is settled. Then I plan to return north to the family estates."
Ashberry paused and dared to add, "I would gladly take my bride
with me if she were not averse to a short engagement."

His opposition could make no additional objections
without violating his daughter's secrets or insulting the marquess.
"I will speak to Lady Whitney and my daughter before giving any
permission for you to call," he allowed only.

The marquess nodded. "Then I will excuse myself. You
know where to find me."

"Of course," Whitney sighed. He said nothing until
he heard the door close on the marquess. Edward was slumped in a
chair, his eyes focused blindly on a blank wall across the room.
The baron looked at his son carefully, avoiding any mention of the
words that had brought Ashberry's offer to the floor. Instead, he
spoke harshly. "You will not speak a word of this to anyone, not
even your mother," he ordered uncompromisingly. With no other
words, he left the room. Behind him, silence was the only
reply.

* * * *

Ellie could say nothing. She only stared out the
window into the small garden beside the house. "I never thought I
would have to choose between being a wealthy marchioness or a
comfortable, lonely spinster," she finally sighed. "Most people
would wonder why Papa hasn't ordered the champagne and locked the
marquess in a room until he signed the contracts and had an
appointment with a bishop." She laughed shortly. "And we're talking
about refusing him?"

"You don't have to decide now, darling," her mother
said. "The marquess said he wished to call on you, not elope."

Whitney shook his head ruefully. "I hesitate to deny
him permission to call, for it would require a greater explanation
of my reasons. He is unquestionably suitable to even a duke's
family. It would be easier, I believe, to allow him to call and for
Ellie to conclude that they would not suit. You should know
Ellie—he wishes to return to Cumbria just after Christmas with his
bride. A short courtship is thus necessary. He has reason to expect
an even shorter engagement; there is no reason to maintain a long
engagement given his age and Ellie's seclusion, not to mention our
common tendencies toward country life."

Ellie swallowed heavily. "It would be the wise thing
to do," she finally said. "Good for the family, especially Edward
and Charlotte. What girl in her right mind would turn it down?"

Lady Whitney sighed. "You could, Ellie, and we want
you to if the thought ... makes you even a little
uncomfortable."

"I would have to tell him, you know," she finally
said. "I cannot hide the scars, nor explain them away as an
accident."

The lady's answer was quiet, resigned. "But you
should not be ashamed. You have done nothing wrong, Ellie."

Her papa did not bother to restrain himself from
snorting. "It would be nearly impossible to hide such things from a
new husband, especially one such as the marquess." He sighed and
paced across the room, repeating a logic he had used over and over
during the last three years. "And yet she cannot tell him. If she
is honest before the marriage, he will beg out of the engagement
and embarrass all of us. Even worse, we will not be able to
guarantee the story would not become public knowledge. If she waits
until after the wedding, and he then discovers deceit, he could
annul the marriage and the family would still be shamed, for his
reasons would be declared in the courts. I see no way for her to
behave honorably without simply deciding they would not fare well
together—the distance between his estates and ours provides a
ready-made reason, as the two of you are notably close. We've
discussed this issue in detail before; marriage is essentially
impossible. She must refuse, though I fear the marquess will
consider it a personal insult. I have brought the matter to both of
you only to see if you can find some acceptable way to decline
without forcing Ellie through the trauma of a doomed courtship, not
to discuss its merits."