Embracing Ashberry (22 page)

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Authors: Serenity Everton

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

BOOK: Embracing Ashberry
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“You know,” Ashberry told his wife as he
stood at her side, his hand resting in the small of her back, “I’m
not accustomed to being ordered about. I’ve been wondering all
evening how anything could have been so horrible as to force me to
regret watching you bathe.”

His voice, Ellie thought, was mercifully
quiet enough for no one to hear. The Whitney carriage was just
pulling away, Alexander and the footmen were still outdoors and
Ashberry’s brothers had already returned to the billiards room.

“I guess we’ll never know,” Ellie turned to
him, a sweet smile on her face. “But did you like the results?”

She held her arms down and out, turning in a
circle, literally begging to be inspected.

Ashberry could hardly fathom the ease of her
movements and words, let alone her evening gown. Unlike most of her
wardrobe, it was fit straight across her bodice from her underarms
and hugged her chest quite snugly, leaving little of her shape to
the imagination. The long sleeves extended from her slim wrists to
just below her shoulders and were not attached to the gown at all
except by a tiny scrap of silk that concealed each underarm,
leaving her shoulders completely bare. For the end of December, the
gown must have been quite chilly, though it was a stunning plum
silk with white vertical pin stripes in the skirt. She had pinned
his brooch just at the center of her bodice, the weight of the
jewel drawing the fabric down just slightly to expose the upper
curves of the insides of her breasts. Tendrils of hair bounced
around her ears in a teasing symphony each time she moved and her
eyes sparkled flirtatiously. Ashberry had never seen her look quite
so confident and flamboyant and his words were rough with
admiration.

“Charming,” he pronounced, taking her by the
arm and steering her to the drawing room. “Quite charming.”

Ellie sobered, just for a moment, then told
him, “Edward and I walked in the conservatory after you came to the
drawing room. He was relieved that you knew everything.”

“Mmmm ...” Ashberry was listening with only
half his brain, for the other half was trying to understand Ellie’s
sunny and carefree smile.

“Champagne,” she supplied the explanation,
“Is a wonderful way to end the year, don’t you think?”

Ashberry nearly laughed as her enthusiasm
registered. He was seeing his wife on the edge of tipsiness and he
expected the downfall would be terrific. “That it is,” he agreed
seriously. “But I think it might be just the time for you to retire
to your rooms.”

She looked at him, wide-eyed as she asked,
“Aren’t you coming? I thought we agreed—”

Ashberry shook his head. “You never answered
my question.”

Ellie answered it then. “You should sleep in
my bed,” she said promptly. “At least until we arrive at Ashberry
Park,” she added more coyly.

The marquess cleared his throat and, to
ensure she made no more remarks that sent his head reeling, took
her by the arm and led her to the door. He called Alexander as she
made her way up the stairs. “Be sure she manages to find her way
inside her own rooms,” he told the butler, a slight smile to his
lips, “and into bed, if there’s any way you can manage a message to
her maid.”

Alexander’s facial expression didn’t change
but Ashberry would have sworn that the man was also holding back a
laugh. “Of course, my lord. She does know, doesn’t she, that Wendy
is leaving in the morning?”

The marquess nodded in confirmation. “Should
she ask, have Wendy tell her that I will join her later.” For the
benefit of the butler, he didn’t add that he intended to wait until
she was sober and asleep, but he certainly thought it as he moved
through the house to find his brothers.

Ellie didn’t remember sharing a bed with the
marquess that night, though she knew he had been there. The scent
of him was still beside her when she awoke, alone in the cold room.
She sighed, rubbing her temples and frowning as she remembered the
end of the evening. He had thought she was drunk—perhaps she had
been, she mused, throwing back the covers. Still, she remembered
clearly his amused smile, his shortness of breath when she had
invited him to her bed.

Her thoughts were quickly forced back to
reality, for in her dressing room and in the halls there was a buzz
of activity. She quickly left the bed. Cautiously, she peeked
through the door to the dressing room, hurrying into it and
covering herself with her heavy cashmere peignoir before any of the
male servants returned. “My lady,” Wendy greeted her with a smile,
“Good morning.” The girl was already dressed in a pretty pale green
gown that had obviously been handed off by one of the twins. Still,
she hurried to Ellie’s side, helping her close the gown, “Until you
leave, Carrie, one of the maids, will be here to help you.”

Ellie smiled, touching her shoulder gently.
“Very good. You will be safe on the road?”

Wendy looked surprised. “Of course, my lady.
His lordship always has very specific instructions for us to
follow, and of course the men are quite accustomed to the trip—they
make it every few weeks or so, I suppose. And,” she added more
soberly, “They have pistols. His lordship made certain they taught
me how to shoot one before we came here.” A pretty blush colored
her cheeks. “Not that I need to know, you know. Jenson, the
underbutler at Ashberry Park, has orders to look after me
especially. He said so.”

Ellie’s brows rose, for she was certain that
most peers of the realm were not in the habit of teaching their
female servants to shoot a pistol. “Good luck,” she said only,
thinking that the dressing room already seemed bare. “You left my
necklace and brooch?” Mentally, she made a note to find out more
about Jenson, and whatever orders the man had been given and who
had given them.

Wendy nodded, gesturing to the dressing
table where they lay beside two large boxes stacked on the floor.
“His lordship had those brought to you, said they were for you. He
is outside now, helping the men load the wagons.”

Ellie hugged her and watched while the men
worked. They seemed to move the heavy trunks with little effort and
before she knew it, the house had emptied of the four servants,
along with Jenson and another footman who had arrived from Ashberry
Park the night before. They had delivered their cargo of frozen
game from Ashberry Park south to London’s markets before dawn and
the wagons had been re-stocked for the trip north. The house was
quiet as Carrie and the waterman began bringing hot water for
Ellie’s bath. With barely a second thought, Ellie sat at her
dressing table and examined the two packages, her fingers
considering for a moment before finally untying the smaller of the
two.

She did not hear Ashberry slip into the room
behind her or see him in the mirror, but she gently eased off the
top of the box and held it against her, her mouth open at the
vision inside the box. Slowly, she set the top of the box on the
floor, her fingers tracing the shimmering white and gold silk, sewn
delicately with its silver thread. Embroidered on the top were tiny
red roses surrounded by silver leaves and gold edging. Her breath
caught as she took in the exquisite fabric and she lifted the
fitted bodice out of the box, shaking it a bit. The sleeves were a
glistening combination of white and gold silk chambrays, two
translucent fabrics so fine that even atop one another one could
see through them. In a small package at one side, she found an
exquisite pair of white gloves and on the other, a sheer chemise so
soft that it slid lovingly over her fingers.

Ashberry concentrated on his wife’s face,
the words coming almost without thought. “I hope it fits—Wendy took
one of your gowns for the seamstress to copy.”

Ellie’s head turned around then and she saw
him. “It’s beautiful,” she sighed, “but why?”

He shrugged. “I adored the gown you wore
here for Charlotte’s dinner party. This one reminded me of it—you
are incredible covered in gold. And, and I knew you had never been
to a ball here in England. I thought it was probably a gown missing
from your wardrobe.”

Ellie laughed but the sound was unsure. “I,
I don’t think I have anywhere to wear this.” Ashberry nodded. “I
know,” he agreed, and then smiled. “You can wear it for me, you
know. It need not be to a ball.”

She nodded. “I will.” She laid the fabric
down completely and turned to him. “You know that Mama insisted on
a complete trousseau. I really need nothing.”

Ashberry smiled. “Need, my dear, is one
thing. I am giving you gifts and I shall hope you enjoy them. Not
because you need them.” He paused, adding, “There is a seamstress
at Ashberry Park who will sew anything for you—and if she cannot,
she will find someone who can. I hope you approve of her work.”

Ellie touched the other box. “Another gown?”
she asked quietly.

His face gave no hint. “You’ll have to open
it.”

She did. It did contain a gown, a carriage
dress of deep russet gold with a matching jacket for the winter, a
lovely pair of patent boots, warmer gloves, a scarf to wear around
her neck, an additional chemise of material so fine she could see
through it in the box to the most beautiful nightgown she had ever
seen, of golden silk. It would fall to her feet with a slit that
would run higher than her knees but would leave her shoulders
uncovered, and with it she found a matching silk robe. She couldn’t
help the blush that covered her cheeks.

“This is scandalous,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “Not between us,” he
disagreed softly. “You look incredible in gold, a flickering candle
with a mahogany wick.”

She seemed to relax at the words, moving to
stand before him. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Ashberry cupped her face in his hands and
smiled. “I shall look forward to seeing you in it.” He was
satisfied by her blush, but did not continue until Carrie and the
other men had left the room again. “There is one thing.”

“What is it?” Ellie looked at him, concern
on her face.

He smiled and stroked her chin with his
thumb. “I suppose it hasn’t occurred to you yet, and I have this
selfish need to let you think about it before we leave on
Wednesday.” Ellie’s face wrinkled in confusion and Ashberry took
the opportunity to lean down and rested his forehead on hers so
that their noses touched. “Ella, dear, you won’t have a maid after
we leave Harlan Chase. I’m afraid I’ll have to assume those
duties.” He watched her eyes widen and lifted his face as she bit
her lip and took a shallow breath. “I shall endeavor to do well,”
he added in a whisper that made her racing heart skip a beat.

He stepped back and added for the benefit of
the listening servants who appeared again with their buckets of
steaming water. “I shall leave you to your bath, my dear. You know
where to find me.”

Ellie dimly went through the morning after
he left, hardly remembering her bath or the breakfast that followed
it. She returned to her sitting room after, thinking only in the
late morning that perhaps she could escape the house and Ashberry’s
company for a final afternoon. She decided to call on her mother
and after calling for the carriage, Carrie helped her don her
gloves and cloak before she descended the stairs, nodding
confidently to Alexander. He opened the front doors promptly and
only then did Ellie stop, for instead of a carriage and footman,
her husband and his phaeton awaited.

The girl paused but found no plausible
reason to refuse his assumption. “I was thinking,” she told him,
“Of visiting Mama and my brothers. I feel sure she will call
tomorrow, it being my last day in London, but I don’t know if she
would bring my brothers and I would like very much to see them both
again.”

Ashberry nodded. He was not surprised when
Alexander had informed him that her ladyship wished to go out. In
fact, he rather suspected he had driven her to it himself. He
allowed her some distance in the phaeton, speaking only when they
came near to the Whitney house. “I imagine my sisters will also
come to visit tomorrow, as well as Aunt Lucy and Sebastian. The
boys will be leaving for Aunt Lucy’s in the afternoon, you know. I
suppose you will be awhile at your parents?” he asked politely.

“Probably,” she said unrepentantly. “You may
come if you like, though I doubt Father or Edward will be at the
house.”

“I thought I might settle the remainder of
my accounts, then go to White’s, if my absence would not
offend?”

Ellie smiled. He seemed to understand that
she was feeling quite overwhelmed by him at that moment. “It would
not offend,” she said quietly. “Thank you for escorting me.”

“I have no intention of letting you run
away, even for an afternoon,” he warned with a smile, his hand
reaching to close around one of hers. “Though you have good reasons
for wanting to visit your mother and siblings, I will not allow you
to use it as an excuse to avoid me.”

Her head turned to him sharply. “I was not
running away,” she denied.

The marquess smiled and squeezed her hand
for releasing it. “Not physically,” he agreed, “but in spirit you
were.”

Ellie could not deny the charge. She had
purposely not told him she intended to go out and had known when
she had seen him waiting that the staff must have informed him
almost immediately.

Ashberry lifted her out of the phaeton when
they arrived, setting her on the walk as Fields opened the door.
“Miss Ella, I mean, my lady,” he greeted her, seeming pleased.

The marquess was silent as Ellie inquired
about her mother. “I’m sure she’ll see you, my lady,” Fields
assured her. “And if not immediately, then Master Richard will be
glad for a respite from the difficulties of his Latin lessons.”

The butler, Ashberry recalled, was clearly
on good terms with the family. He tipped the man generously as
Ellie turned to go inside, receiving a questioning look. “You’ve
taken good care of her for several years, Fields,” he murmured.
“And I’d like to thank you for your loyalty to her family. I’ll be
back in three hours to retrieve her. Make sure she doesn’t set out
on her own in the meantime.”

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