Embracing Ashberry (19 page)

Her voice woke him, except that it was
incoherent, anxious. He sat up abruptly, a moment passing before he
realized that she was dreaming. “Please help me,” she whimpered and
Ashberry felt his body wrench from the pain that rammed through
him. His hands shaking, he nearly ran to the bed and placed one
knee on its edge, watching her curl in quiet anguish beneath the
covers. “It hurts so much,” she sobbed.

The marquess could not help his actions. He
threw back the blanket and lifted her into his arms. She didn’t
wake but turned to him, her quiet sobs forming against his chest.
He managed to grab the coverlet in one fist, dragging it behind
them as he carried her to the chair.

He wrapped the blanket around them both,
cradling her in his lap. Ashberry was surprised that she didn’t
wake but was grateful that she calmed against him. He stroked her
hair and held her for a long time, until the warmth and softness of
her body lulled him into sleep.

NINE

Ellie dared not move. She didn’t know how
she had come to be held on her husband’s lap, or why the coverlet
from her bed covered them both. She especially didn’t know why she
was dressed only in the shimmering and nearly translucent negligee
her mother had given her for her wedding night. The stain removed,
Wendy had produced it the night before, but Ellie distinctly
remembered climbing into her bed and blowing out the candle.
Ashberry had not been there. With a bit of surprise, Ellie realized
she had slept through the night. The familiar memories that crowded
her sleeping hours were dimmer, the familiar raw ache eased by a
prevalent comfort if also a stiffer back.

Only when Ashberry’s arms tightened around
her did she know he was awake. She lifted her head only to find his
eyes on hers, his arms cradling her gently to him. One of his hands
splayed possessively across her back, the other arm pulled her
closer against him, the hand pushing against her thigh. “Do you
have nightmares every night?” he asked softly, resting his chin on
the top of her head.

The question surprised her. “You didn’t know
before?” she asked.

“You were very quiet. I wouldn’t have heard
you, except—” He stopped, remembering suddenly that he had spent
all night in the chair that held them both. “Except that I was
sitting here in the chair,” he finally admitted.

Ellie didn’t know what to say, except maybe
that his hands were warmer than she’d ever thought before or that
his body was firmer than she’d ever imagined. “I—I’m sorry I
disturbed you,” she murmured, wiggling to move off of his lap.

The marquess didn’t allow it. If anything,
he held her closer, his grip tightening. “Don’t squirm,” he ordered
softly. “I need to think.”

Ellie stilled, until he asked, “Did you
remember me being here? Last night?”

She shook her head, laying her head against
his shoulder. The simple act of submission struck him and he
gathered her still closer, rubbing one hand along her spine and
clasping her waist with the other. Her knees were perched on the
chair arm with her feet dangling over the edge but she didn’t seem
to mind. The warmth of her had stimulated all of his senses but at
least for this morning, he had shackled in his urges. The marquess
was too focused on the welfare of his bride to attend to his own
wants.

Finally, he spoke to her softly, “You asked
me to help you.”

She considered the words, wondering how much
to tell him. Ellie concluded there was no reason to deny the
entirety of it, though she had no words to describe the actual
events.

“Edward found me first. I was still a little
conscious and I looked up and saw him there. I, I think he thought
I was dead. So I asked him to help me.”

Avoiding his eyes, she swallowed. “After
that, I only have flashes of memories. Mostly I remember blood all
over him, both of us. He carried me inside the manor. My mother was
screaming, I think. Someone let the dogs out because I could hear
them barking. Edward told me later that they were useless—the scent
of my blood made them crazy.” She was quiet for a moment before she
continued. “They told me later that John and Papa took their guns
and some of the men from the farms and the house and went looking
for him. My brother Richard, he was only twelve but he had the most
sense of anyone, I guess. He didn’t tell anyone where he went but
took a horse and alone rode for the nearest doctor, ten miles
away.”

Her eyes fixed on the ashes in the
fireplace, she continued, her voice soft. “Fields had to restrain
Mama because she tried to shake me awake. Most of the staff had
already been let go, you know, because we were to leave for London
that same morning.”

Ellie stopped abruptly, remembering suddenly
her Papa’s repeated warnings the last two years. She wondered
anxiously if he had been as wrong about that as he had about anyone
being willing to marry her, then hurriedly apologized to him in her
thoughts. Papa, Ellie told herself, hadn’t known the Marquess of
Ashberry existed.

That man didn’t give her much choice. “Tell
me the rest of it, Ella,” he said doggedly, his eyes closed.

She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t
remember any more,” she tried to deter him.

“But you know what happened.” His voice
gentled, though she could still detect a glimmer of the granite
that laced it. “Trust me, Ella.”

Finally she nodded. “After Mama tried to
shake me, Edward wouldn’t let anyone else touch me. He, he was the
one who cleaned my wounds, who applied the poultices and the
bandages. I probably would have bled to death if he hadn’t taken
charge.”

Ashberry was silent for a moment before he
asked, his voice gently probing. “Why did you not want to tell me
that?”

She swallowed heavily, her hands clasped
together in her lap. “When you see the scars, you’ll know why,” she
whispered. “He saw things that brothers don’t see. He touched ...
places that brothers aren’t supposed to think about, know about.”
She choked back a sob as she defended her sibling. “He, he didn’t
feel as if he had any choice, since I was unconscious ... and
bleeding to death. There wasn’t a woman in the house who wasn’t in
shock or trying to keep Mama from hurting me more.” She sobbed a
little, shuddering. “You didn’t know that when you let him marry
Charlotte.”

Ashberry closed his eyes. He understood now
why Edward was the protective sibling. “It wouldn’t have mattered,”
he whispered into her hair, forcing himself to think of Charlotte
and Caroline, imagining how he himself would have behaved if such a
thing had happened to one of them.

“Why not?” she replied, her whisper just as
soft.

“He saved your life, Ellie. I will thank him
for it when I see him.” His words were tender with emotion as he
spoke against her hair. The silken mass was beginning to loosen
from the long simple braid that hung down her back. He found the
end and began to unwind it, his fingers untwisting and smoothing
the locks.

“Papa says he shouldn’t have done it, that
it was improper, that no one could ever find out. I know he’d do it
again if he had to but he swore to Papa he would never tell anyone
what happened.”

Ashberry’s question was serious, for Society
could turn the horror into a sensationalized scandal if Ellie’s
nightmare ever came to light. “Who else knew that Edward cared for
you?” he asked quietly.

“Fields, he restrained Mama from making it
worse, he’s now our butler. Papa insisted he come to Europe with us
and Mama pays him very well. He’s very loyal to her. My mother’s
maid, she helped Edward burn what was left of my clothes and
carried water while Edward was cleaning my wounds. And my
governess, it was to be her last day, you see, but she ended up
staying as my nurse for several months once she stopped passing out
every time she saw my wounds.” She sighed. “The nanny, I suppose,
must have known but Papa had already dismissed her, though she
hadn’t left the house yet. Richard was to join John and his tutor
and leave the nursery when we arrived in London.”

Ellie grimaced before adding, “Papa took
them both to Europe too. My governess is still there, in Italy with
Lord and Lady Daregate and their baby. Papa said they would not be
returning to London until next year. The nanny married some French
merchant in Marseilles. And the doctor, I suppose he knows
too.”

Ashberry kissed her hair, his fingers
tangling in the now unbraided locks. It was still early and he had
no desire to move, except that Ellie’s warmth and lack of dress
were beginning to penetrate his compassion. As for the doctor, he
knew the man’s silence could be guaranteed. His solicitor had
already begun arranging for the man’s emigration to Canada. “I
wouldn’t worry about anyone discovering that secret and I am glad
that you told me.”

“And your sister?” she asked worriedly, her
nose pressed against his shoulder.

“If something as devastating ever happened
to her, I know she’d be in excellent care,” he whispered, his
fingers stroking the outside edge of her ears. “As to your secret,
I suppose your brother hasn’t told her, given his vow of silence on
the matter.”

“No,” she whispered. “I suppose not. He told
me before the wedding that I was still his sister and that if I
needed anything, he would take care of it.” She looked up at him,
earnestly. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to keep these
secrets about me. He adores Charlotte, you know, and would do
nearly anything for her—”

He smiled and stopped her by placing a
single fingertip against her lips. His respect for Edward had
jumped several notches in the last weeks, but particularly in the
last half hour.

“I will pay a call on my brother-in-law
today and let him know that you have shared this secret with me,”
Ashberry said simply. “Be certain that I am as interested in my
sister’s happiness as much as you wish to assure your brother’s. If
he wishes for her to know or if someday she has to be told, I will
make it known that we have no objections.”

Ashberry did not join her for breakfast as
she thought he might. Instead, he left a message with Alexander,
scrawled in his large hand. In addition to information relating to
the arrival that afternoon of Sebastian, Spencer and Sidney from
Harlan Chase, he suggested that Ellie might start packing her
trunks for the wagons to take north. “Wendy will be leaving with
the wagons in two days’ time, on Monday at dawn,” he wrote, “With
Peter, Jules and Darrin.”

Ellie knew the wagons would travel more
slowly than the coach. They would need nearly two days more on the
road to arrive, so Ashberry planned to send them ahead. She
wondered briefly why two footmen and a manservant would be sent as
well but then remembered Winters words at the beginning of the week
about the marquess using the house staff as couriers. “Alexander,
Griffin and Benjamin will travel with us.” The note ended abruptly,
with no signature or farewell but Ellie was not displeased.

Her stomach fluttered as she imagined the
meeting between Ashberry and her brother but she determined to
ignore it. He had been exceedingly gentle when he had finally
allowed her to stand on the rug before the fire. The coverlet had
been wrapped closely around her, leaving him to the chill of the
room but he had sent her off to the dressing room before even
standing. The image of him in his robe, rumpled from the night,
stuck in her mind as she stopped for a moment and wrote a brief
reply to his note, laying it carefully on the seat of his
chair.

Ashberry returned to the house shortly after
two, nodding to the butler as he came into the house. “Her
ladyship?” he asked, smiling when he heard that her trunks were
being packed and that she had conscripted the menservants to help.
He escaped to his study, guessing that he would only be a hindrance
upstairs and was surprised to find a piece of foolscap folded
neatly and set in his chair.

He settled into the leather as he unfolded
it, smiling at the elegant script. “She was certainly taught well,”
he chuckled, his mouth quirking. It started innocently enough, with
gratitude that he had shared his plans ahead of time for their trip
north. It ended more dangerously, for she had dared to say
something in ink that he imagined she would find quite impossible
when they occupied the same room. He touched the words with his
fingers, wishing instead that he could caress her lips. “Though my
back and neck are a bit stiff, I am grateful for your consideration
last night and this morning. I slept more soundly than I have in
some years, despite the chair.” At the bottom, she had signed a
simple and gracious E.

He smoothed the note out on his blotter,
knowing that she must have used his inkstand and paper to pen the
missive. He didn’t mind, rather enjoying the thought of her
standing at his desk, musing her words. Ashberry wondered if her
body had curved into the chair or if she had bent over the blotter.
Either way, his mind seemed to focus on the shape of her, so much
more definite in his mind after that morning.

The arrival of the Sebastian’s phaeton from
Harlan Chase gave him his first opportunity to see her. She seemed
to want to question him, but the romping of all three brothers,
after a day of driving, restrained her. Their bags were quickly
taken up by the staff, for the two younger boys would remain at
Ashberry House until Ellie and Ashberry departed, while both lady
and lord endured knowing glances and smart comments until the
marquess had seen enough of his wife’s reddened cheeks. “Spencer,
Sidney, that’s enough,” he ordered, his tone brooking no
disobedience.

The boys immediately stilled, quite familiar
with their brother’s moods. “Well,” Sidney declared, “I believe
it’s time to dress for dinner.”

“So it is,” Spencer agreed. “We will join
you later?”