Embracing Ashberry (15 page)

“I shall be sure to put such treasures away
carefully, my lady, but you must decide where to keep such pretty
things.”

“I suppose I should buy a chest for them,
one that locks.” In fact, a note to that effect was the first thing
Ellie wrote in the new pocket book her mother had purchased for
her, to help with the myriad of details necessary to manage the
houses Ashberry maintained and staffed.

Remembering Ashberry’s instructions the
night before, her descent down the stairs was slow and uneasy, and
her entry to the dining room slightly awkward. It was a large and
gracious room with a warm fire already burning, French doors to the
garden, windows with curtains opened to allow in the sunshine and a
buffet already set with promising dishes.

Alexander, Ashberry’s butler, must have been
watching for her, because he stepped into the room almost as soon
as she did. “His lordship has already eaten,” he said
apologetically, holding out the chair at the end of the table.
“Would you like me to serve?”

“Thank you, Alexander,” she said, feeling
more competent here than she thought she ever would in her
relationship with Ashberry. “Everything smells delicious.”

She had ham and fruit and a roll before
setting her napkin on the table. “Did his lordship say if he had
plans?” She didn’t know where to find him in the massive house and
thought she might become lost trying. The normal question had
completely slipped her mind in the shock of the encounter
upstairs.

The man took her plate away, handing her a
cup of tea to sip. “He suggested, my lady, that you might like to
meet with the house steward, Mr. Winters, and our housekeeper Mrs.
Shannon. I thought as well that you might want to tour the entire
house today before callers begin coming in the mornings. His
lordship is in his study, though, and I will show you there if you
wish to see him.”

The sobriety of the man would have amused
Ellie if he hadn’t been so earnest, so she took his suggestion
seriously. “I think that sounds like an excellent plan for the
morning, if his lordship hasn’t made other arrangements for us. Is
Mr. Winters available this morning?”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Please tell him that I would like to meet
with him and Mrs. Shannon after I consult with Ashberry.” She set
the tea down before standing. “If you would show me to his
study?”

On the way, Alexander reminded her that the
house was a rectangle, with an interior courtyard. A separate
building for the kitchen was across a narrow kitchen court at the
south end. “If it wasn’t so chilly outside, my lady, the most
direct way would be to cross the atrium courtyard and go down the
corridor.” The butler stopped, so that she would see across the
small barren garden and into the other side of the house. Instead,
he led her around the north end of the house, past the main stairs
and the assembly and music room. “His lordship’s study is just
between the music room and the library, my lady.”

Ellie smiled, delighted at the man’s simple
descriptions, waiting patiently while Alexander knocked on the
door. The answer from within was immediate, and Ellie found herself
being shown into the masculine room. From behind the desk, Ashberry
murmured quietly, “Alexander, her ladyship need not knock.”

“Of course, my lord,” the man replied,
backing out.

Ellie stood inside the doorway and looked
around in amazement. Her father’s study was small, mostly bare
unadorned walls, with only the desk, chairs for he and his sons and
a carpet for embellishment. Here, Ashberry had obviously taken an
opposite approach. Like the library, all the walls were covered
with bookcases and paneling made from a rich oak, with books not
filling the room but certainly taking a prominent place. Two
windows set close together let the only natural light into the room
and Ashberry’s desk was in front of them to her right. The
fireplace was large, with a hearth that seemed to dominate the room
and double doors across the room and facing her opened into the
library. The carpet was a deep plush blue and the only open spots
on the walls were covered with paintings—one of a man Ellie thought
must be her husband’s father hung above the hearth and several
small paintings of his siblings hung above each doorway. Even the
ceiling was exquisite—a deep golden yellow with oak beams to
support it. She took a minute to absorb the full room, the click of
the door behind her reminding them both that Alexander had perhaps
waited just a moment longer than needed to close the door.

She stepped into the room, surprised when
Ashberry rose from his desk and met her, taking both hands in his.
He led her to one of the armchairs near the fire and settled her
there, choosing to lean against the side of the hearth. “What can I
do for you, my dear?”

Ellie blushed even as she reminded them both
of their morning encounter. “I thought I might meet with Mr.
Winters and Mrs. Shannon this morning, but I wanted to be certain
you didn’t have other plans for us. I, I didn’t get an opportunity
to ask you this, this morning.”

He smiled, enjoying the look of her in his
own favorite chair. He hoped foolishly that she would leave some of
her delicious fragrance behind when she departed, but said nothing
of his thoughts to her. They had already discussed her role as
mistress both here and at Ashberry Park and he was glad she felt
confident enough to embark on that adventure immediately. “I had no
plans made, Ella,” he said with a smile. “But if you would prefer
to bathe again—”

“My lord!” she gasped, stopping him with a
raised hand, her cheeks delightfully reddening.

He was unrepentant, even to the point of
moving to sit on the arm of her chair and leaning down so that
their lips nearly brushed together. His left arm blocked her into
the chair, balancing him in an awkward position over her. He
admitted, “You know then that I could barely restrain myself?”

She nodded, her eyes nearly as wide as the
face of his pocket watch.

He was pleased that her uncertainty wasn’t
fear. At least, not the palpable fear he’d seen in her face the
evening before. He hoped she was confident to know that his study
was a much safer location for seduction than any room with a bed in
it, despite his reliability the previous night. His mouth curved,
his nose brushed hers. Eye to eye, he held her there until she
breathed, the warmth coming from her mouth and nose and brushing
against his lip. “By the way, I warned you,” he whispered, “That I
want to hear you say my name.”

SEVEN

His lips met hers then, just softly as
possible and just for an instant.

Ashberry held his body rigid as he pulled
away, and with his hands almost clenching into fists, stood up and
moved to stand behind her. Her lips had been soft, softer than he
had imagined, and she hadn’t tensed or resisted him. The thought
was heady and it took him several minutes to recover.

Ellie was grateful for the reprieve. After a
long minute, she took a deep breath. Ashberry was behind her chair,
but she knew he would still be focused on her. He had pulled away
before his body had taken over the kiss and Ellie nearly thanked
him for it, stopping the words only by covering her mouth with a
quicker hand. Her lips tingled where they had met and the sensation
was strangely pleasant—unfamiliar but pleasant.

“Go,” he said roughly, the word low and
urgent, but Ellie was intelligent enough to obey.

She fled the study, the door closing behind
her as she hurried into the music room across the corridor. She
stood just inside the doors and caught her breath. This room was
her favorite of all the rooms she had seen at Ashberry House,
perhaps because it was missing entirely from the Whitney home. It
opened by two sets of doors into the large assembly room and was
capable of sitting a small orchestra at the western end, but the
centerpiece of the room was the beautiful pianoforte, a masterpiece
of an instrument that occupied the east end of the room where Ellie
stood. No fire burned in the hearth and the keys were cold, but
Ellie ran her hands over them anyway, testing the ease with which
the piece could be played. The instrument was in perfect tune, for
it had been played only the afternoon before and Ellie could hardly
help but to sit and indulge in a joy she hadn’t expected to have
that day.

Alexander, Winters and Mrs. Shannon all
arrived to the strains of Handel’s
Rinaldo
flowing through
the room and out into the corridor. Inside his own study door,
Ashberry had frozen in his chair, pen in hand. Alexander had the
sense to ease open the door, allowing the melody to filter more
fully into his master’s study. Mrs. Shannon’s hands were clasped
together in delight for a moment before she quickly hurried to the
end of the room and pulled open the curtains, allowing the sunlight
to flood the room. At the door of the music room, Winters had a
moment of inspiration. He quickly summoned a footman and ordered a
fire for the room at the soonest possible moment.

Ellie smiled at the three senior staff
members only after she played the final chord. She hadn’t really
known how to summon them and was glad the music had attracted all
three. “I dearly love music, you know,” she told them. “The last
time I was able to play an instrument this fine was in Paris and I
have waited quite patiently for an opportunity to enjoy this
one.”

Winters looked at Alexander who looked at
Mrs. Shannon. It was Alexander who spoke. “I’m afraid it hasn’t
been played much in recent memory, my lady. However, Miss Caroline
had it tuned before Miss Charlotte’s wedding.”

“Has it been in the house long, then?” she
asked curiously, stroking the ivory keys.

Mrs. Shannon answered that question. “I was
just a kitchen maid here, my lady, when it was purchased. That was
more than thirty years ago.”

Ashberry provided a further explanation from
the doorway, his voice quiet and rich. “My father purchased it as
his wedding gift for my mother,” he offered quietly. The three
servants turned around while Ellie stood and nervously smoothed out
her skirt. “You play it wonderfully,” he added, his eyes on hers,
an unfamiliar light in them.

“Thank you, my lord,” Ellie said softly, not
able to look away.

Ashberry recovered first, shaking his head
and stepping back. “Play it as much as you would like,” he said
with a smile, “And enjoy it—there is another at Ashberry Park that
is just as magnificent. Father purchased it to celebrate my birth.”
His eyes wandered to his steward. “I trust you shall be able to
spend some time with her ladyship this morning, Winters.”

“Of course, my lord,” the man replied
smoothly. He was nearly sixty, having been the Ashberry butler for
many long years before being asked to manage the London house.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Ashberry
excused himself, with a final look at Ellie she couldn’t
interpret.

Winters had a smile on his face as he began.
“We’d like to congratulate you on your marriage. It’s obvious to us
that you will be quite happy together.”

Ellie took a deep breath. It was obvious to
her
that these three had interpreted Ashberry’s odd
expression in the context of their recent marriage, and were
pleased by her effect on him. All three smiled. She inclined her
head, smiling graciously. “Thank you so much for your best wishes.
I’m afraid I didn’t have the chance before our wedding to meet all
of the staff, but from what I’ve observed, you run this house quite
efficiently,” she started.

They began well in that way. Alexander
returned to his duties, while Mrs. Shannon and Winters took her on
an extended tour of the old structure. It had gone through many
changes, but had always been large and imposing, two floors of
elegance and distinction and a third floor of attics, servants’
quarters, schoolrooms and nurseries. Ellie was pleased to discover
a perfect morning room on the first floor just two doors from
Ashberry’s sitting room. “I shall use this room quite often when we
are here,” she told Winters seriously. “I realize I am not required
to do a good deal of housekeeping her in London, but this is the
perfect room for us to have our regular meetings about menus and
accounts, as well as for me to receive family and close friends.
I’d like to keep my sitting room private.”

Winters had nodded, making a note to in his
book. “I shall be sure a fire is laid for you in the mornings, my
lady, and also in the music room,” he told her. “While the marquess
reviewed our accounts from last month just last week, I thought you
might like to go over them too, for your own understanding.”

Ellie nodded, “I shouldn’t imagine that I’ll
need to review your ledgers until next month’s are sent to Ashberry
Park, but it would be nice to have some understanding in advance.”
She turned to the housekeeper, who had been giving a running
commentary during the tour while Winters made a multitude of notes.
“Mrs. Shannon, let us proceed.” The woman had smiled happily and
done so, escorting them to the doors of nine bedchambers on the
first floor besides Ashberry and Ellie’s.

On the third floor, Ellie opened each door
of the servant chambers, noting that all had at least one dormer
window to give it light and air, and that each was clean and
organized, though the arrangement and furnishings varied by stature
and gender. Griffin’s room was at the far northeastern corner and
Wendy had her own room at the northwestern corner. The new
marchioness was grateful to see that the rooms above his lordship’s
bedchamber were unoccupied and used for storage, and she breathed a
sigh of relief when she found that the nursery laundry occupied the
space above her own boudoir, a room unlikely to be used late at
night.

Two rooms for a tutor and nanny accompanied
a large schoolroom. It had been recently cleaned and emptied
because Spencer and Sidney’s tutor would be in residence with his
charges at Sebastian and Lucy’s London home. Large Holland covers
protected nursery furniture from London’s dust, but the rooms were
large and had plenty of light when the dark drapes were pulled
aside. There were several rooms—a playroom, the nursery itself, a
separate sick room and an additional area for the attendants to use
as a kitchen. Ellie meant to give it just a cursory look but was
persuaded by the gleam on Mrs. Shannon’s face that a more thorough
inspection might be appropriate. Despite her better intentions, a
small sliver of desire for the rooms to be occupied found its way
into her and she nearly hurried the other two along in her haste to
escape it.