Embracing Ashberry (24 page)

“You like it?” she asked innocently, for the
yellow silk covered her neck, chest and back demurely, but the
sleeves and shoulders were a delicate and transparent white silk
chambray that ended at her wrists with embroidered yellow
roses.

“Very much,” he murmured, sliding his hand
around her waist and guiding her through the suite. As they passed
into the hall, he added, “I shall have to frown at my brothers all
evening.”

“Why?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.

“For ogling my bride,” he returned, hardly
joking.

ELEVEN

To his surprise, Ashberry was finding
himself more and more protective of the girl and was quite
astonished to discover that he didn’t wish to share her with his
siblings. He dearly wanted her company, and only her company, for
dinner that evening. Nevertheless, he did his duty and even managed
a semi-intelligent conversation with his brothers, though he ate
little and his eyes rarely strayed from the opposite end of the
table.

The idiocy of the four sharing a table meant
for ten still did not escape him, though for once he was grateful
that Ellie sat as far away as she did. He knew that he would have
to touch the shoulders he could see gleaming beneath the silk and
wondered if she had known he would be tempted by the gown. From the
look on her face, with the lightness of her smile, as if the
afternoon had never happened, he thought she might and hope
spiraled inside him.

Though he tamped it down viciously, her shy
looks in his direction and her quick curtsy to him when she removed
herself from the dining room fueled the fire within him.

Luckily, his brothers weren’t interested in
languishing around the table; in fact, he realized with a smile,
none of the six Trinity siblings had observed the common ritual as
religiously as most of their peers.
En famille
, they all
had much preferred to surrender together to the lure of the library
and games and the absence of Charlotte and Caroline from the table
did not deter seem to deter his brothers from their preferred
evening pastimes. With his mind on his bride and her preferences,
after Sidney and Spencer mentioned cards, the marquess suggested
the game Pope Joan.

The suggestion drew a look of surprise from
Sidney. “I thought you detested that game,” he mused.

It was Spencer who guessed his eldest
brother’s reasoning and the young man did not keep his thoughts to
himself. “Perhaps Lady Ashberry likes it?” he asked with a
smile.

The marquess had the grace to look
uncomfortable. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I thought she
would know how to play it.”

Spencer, the more exuberant and confident of
the two, didn’t hesitate. He left the dining room and returned with
Ellie on his arm. She was amused, for Ashberry could see her lips
twitching, though he didn’t know what had been said until Spencer
led her to Ashberry’s side and bowed. The mock motion was followed
by, “My lord, may I present to you Lady Ashberry, who has
graciously agreed to join us in a rousing game of speculation.”

Ashberry’s brows rose slightly as he stood.
“My good lady, such a dangerous game could hardly be your first
preference. Wouldn’t a game of whist be more to your refined
tastes?” he asked politely, following his brother’s example.

Ellie smiled serenely, accepting Ashberry’s
outstretched hand with her own. “My lord,” she murmured as he
kissed her glove, “I’m afraid I should quite prefer something more
challenging than a simple entertainment such as whist this
evening.”

Sidney, having risen as well, broke the
spell. “You heard the lady, Ashberry. Speculation it is.”

Ashberry waved the boys ahead of him, taking
Ellie’s arm himself. “You do realize,” he said softly, “That my
brothers are secretly and desperately practicing to become experts
at the game?”

Ellie smiled at him, a delightful twinkle in
her eye that he found intoxicating. “I shall depend on you then,”
she teased, “to be my banker.”

Ashberry couldn’t help himself. “Did you
know,” he asked, “that I charge an outrageous interest?”

Ellie stopped before they entered the
library, knowing the answer would be flirtatious, even wicked.
Still, she couldn’t resist her answer. “And what would you require
to support my evening’s entertainment, should I require a small
loan to cover my losses?”

The answer came to him even as he turned her
to face him. “A kiss for every shilling.” He waited a few seconds
before adding, “Every day.”

Ellie cleared her throat, thinking that
perhaps silence was the best course. When the inevitable flush
covered her cheeks, she turned and entered the room where the twins
were arranging a table at the far end. “We shall see,” she said
only, over her shoulder, noting that Ashberry stayed close behind
even though she moved quickly.

The thought that he had no intention of
letting her flee from his side brought a quick shiver to her spine
and almost imperceptibly she accepted that she was able to engage
his attentions. The company of Ashberry’s brothers gave her no time
to mull over the awareness that suddenly flowed between them or
consider why she was pleased by the notion that little, shy and
unacceptable Ellie was attractive to her husband.

Instead, the game passed with much laughter
and teasing, between all four. It was quickly clear to Ellie that
the marquess was the actual expert in the room. Both the twins lost
a month’s allowance before Ashberry relented and lowered the ante
to a shilling. Ellie held her own for quite awhile, at least until
Sidney pulled out. When the chips before her began to disappear,
she considered her husband. “I suppose,” she asked, “that you shall
not do the gentlemanly thing and forgive my losses?”

Spencer actually laughed. “My brother?”

Sidney shook his head. “We can only afford
to play this game with Ashberry once a year, my lady,” he
explained. “Ashberry takes gambling quite seriously.”

“It is my understanding that they are quite
able to make up their losses tonight by engaging some of their
companions in the game on some future evening. But at least they
will know the true cost of the past time if they foolishly choose
to play it with men who have more experience than they,” Ashberry
murmured, catching the eye of each twin before meeting his wife’s
interested gaze. “I believe, however, that you and I discussed my
answer to the question before the game even started.”

“Ah yes,” Ellie remembered clearly. Quite
deliberately, her eyes in contact at every second with her husband,
she asked to borrow five shillings. The man couldn’t hide his smile
as he slowly counted the coin. She lost it quickly, though not
intentionally and only a few moments passed before she sighed and
slid back her chair. “I’m afraid that I cannot play.”

“You could borrow more,” Spencer
advised.

Ashberry cleared his throat, focusing on the
table instead of his wife, for he knew she blushed even as she
answered. “I don’t believe I will,” she murmured. “At least, not
tonight. If you will excuse me,” she rose, “I am feeling a bit worn
and would retire.”

All the men stood, and Ashberry’s chest
nearly crushed as she glided elegantly away. He told himself that
it was hardly appropriate to follow her like a dog in heat, at
least until Spencer rolled his eyes. “Go on,” he told his
brother.

The marquess did quickly, though he stopped
first to collect his winnings from the table, ignoring his teasing
siblings. Still, he managed to catch up to his wife before she
passed into her dressing room. He stopped her with a slight touch
to her elbow and only, “Ella.”

She turned to him, eyes wide. “Yes?”

“My interest?” he murmured, resting a hand
on her waist and drawing her closer.

Ellie’s mouth rounded for a moment before
she replied, a little breathlessly. “But a day hasn’t gone by
yet.”

He smiled as his grasp on her waist firmed,
watching her closely. “I charge in advance,” he whispered, his
mouth capturing hers. Ellie’s eyes closed at the contact and she
sighed when he drew back. The soft sound was welcoming so he
returned for a second taste, pressing down until her mouth opened
to accommodate him. He swallowed heavily when he drew back, but
managed to whisper, “The other three I will defer, as long your
credit remains good.”

Ellie nodded, allowing him to escort her
into the dressing room. She expected Carrie to be there but was
surprised when Ashberry waved the maid away. “Lady Ashberry will
call,” he told her, ignoring his wife’s confused look. Instead, he
led her to the long mirror that graced one corner of the room and
turning to face her, positioned them so that both could be seen in
it, facing the other. Ellie waited, wondering until his hands began
to slowly unfasten the buttons of her gown. His fingers trembled as
he worked, especially when her chilly hands clenched against her
skirts and she drew a deep breath, her breasts rising and falling
in the suddenly still room.

She clung to the thought of her corset and
chemise below the silk, though the sleeveless garments would be
little protection. When he slipped her arms from the sleeves and
allowed the front of the dress to fall behind her, baring her neck,
shoulders and collarbone, she was almost disappointed for he paid
no attention. Instead, almost so reverently that she could hardly
stand it, he knelt before her, unfastening the layers of skirts
until they, too, fell to the floor. Only then did he draw away, his
eyes roving her white undergarments with the intense scrutiny she
now recognized easily. When his gaze focused on her bare shoulders
and collarbone, Ellie shivered, for he seemed able to see every
texture and crevice.

Finally, he moved closer, his hands out
until he rested them on her shoulders, slowly sliding them down her
arms and to her suddenly nerveless hands. Returning to her face, he
traced her jawbone with his thumbs then lower down each side of her
neck. His index fingers traced her collarbone, his hands coming to
rest on her shoulders. “You teased me tonight,” he finally said,
his thumbs stroking her skin, “by showing me your dress, then the
card game. You didn’t have to borrow those few shillings.”

“Yes,” she agreed softly. Ashberry closed
his eyes and steeled his body at her admission, for she seemed to
have no instinct for survival and he knew it would be only his
control that would protect her.

“Why?” he had to ask, though Ashberry
dreaded her answer. His body was aching and hard, from temples to
toes. When she didn’t answer, he ground out slowly, “You don’t even
know?”

“I guess I don’t,” she admitted softly. “I,
I thought at first to please you, at the beginning, I mean.”

“You did,” he grunted as he tried to reason
through her behavior. He dared not consider the explanations that
his body most readily advocated and his head could hardly swim
through the rush they created in his blood, so he stepped back,
biting down hard on his tongue.

The pain on his face was so apparent that
Ellie felt a chill go through her. Her eyes widened as she
whispered, “I didn’t know. I thought you would enjoy it—”

He shook his head. “I do. Enjoy it,” he said
roughly.

“It hurts you,” she whispered, her chin
trembling.

“No,” he denied, taking her shoulders in his
hands again. Forcefully, his eyes burning, he told her, “It isn’t
pain. Not like that.”

She had to accept his word. Ellie had no
other alternative. She nodded, though a bit uncertain, for the raw
emotion in the room was unnerving. She found it difficult to think
with his hands on her bare skin and his eyes demanding her
attention. Their depths sparked yellow and Ellie drew a sharp
breath.

The kiss came almost before she could
exhale. Ashberry seemed to swoop, his mouth hard and uncompromising
and Ellie felt her body drawn from the floor and up into his
embrace. His arms were hard and supportive, his mouth forcing hers
open with little patience.

Overwhelmed, she acquiesced until his tongue
forged deeply into her mouth, taking all her breath and then
plunging further until Ellie whimpered.

Ashberry heard the sound through the haze
surrounding his head and he jerked away from her, disgusted with
his behavior. He turned away, closing his eyes and crossing the
room.

From that distance, he breathed deeply,
bottling his desires.

In the silence, Ellie felt bereft, alone.
Cold. Her hand helplessly went to her mouth, touching the lips that
he had so taken as his own. She was amazed, too, for even now she
felt no remorse, no anxiety. On the contrary, she objected to
herself, if she hadn’t known that it would unfailingly lead to
other waters she was not quite ready to tread then she wouldn’t
have wanted him to stop.

“I apologize, Ellie,” Ashberry finally
spoke.

His voice was sorrowful, pained, and Ellie’s
stomach clenched. More than anything, she knew it was important
that he should not misunderstand her response. Without thought to
her lack of dress or to his still heated body, she moved to stand
just behind him. “Turn around,” she said quietly, unafraid. “Look
at me, please.”

Ashberry’s heart beat mightily. He was still
cursing himself, convinced that he had ruined all the progress they
had made in the last week. Convinced she was about to berate him
for his abominable behavior, he turned slowly, a reluctant child
ready to be scolded for stealing a sweet.

Instead, he found Ellie with her jaw squared
and her eyes serious. The words came swiftly and somewhat
indignantly, as if he had unknowingly annoyed her instead of
intimidated her. “Listen to me and listen well, for I refuse to
have this conversation again. You do not frighten me and you have
not hurt me. You in no way remind me of what happened to me in the
past. Do not ever apologize to me for acting like my husband,
Stephen Ashberry.”