Embracing Ashberry (5 page)

Ashberry was slightly surprised that Edward
would rally instinctively to his sister's side, especially with
Charlotte across the foyer and the opponent quite capable of
separating Edward from the young man's fiancée. Still, he knew he
would not be deterred by the boy's sibling loyalty. He simply
needed to find another way to encounter Ella Whitney, preferably
with fewer of their respective siblings present. Preferably with
none of their respective siblings present, he corrected
himself.

With his focus still on Ellie and Edward,
Ashberry didn't see Lord Whitney behind him, the baron's body stiff
with concern, his eyes focused intently on Ashberry's hands even as
they settled to his sides.

Edward guided Ellie out the door. She was
shaking from the intent she had seen on Ashberry's face and her
brother was openly angry. "What in the hell does he think he's
playing at?" he said to his father.

Whitney helped Ellie up into the carriage
before frowning at his son. He, too, had felt the girl trembling.
"We'll discuss it, at home," he promised, warning his son not to
discuss the matter in front of the girl.

Inside the carriage, Ellie recovered
quickly. "Edward is being silly," she said quietly to her mother.
"The marquess didn't do anything improper, unless kissing my hand
is now considered inappropriate. How could he know not to treat me
as he would any other lady?" She sighed a little, remembering the
interest in the marquess' face, savoring it a little. "It was
really very nice of him, you know, to think of me at all." In
truth, Ellie knew, she had not been shaking from in fear but from a
much different and unfamiliar emotion, one she knew instinctively
she could only examine and identify when she was alone.

Lady Whitney said nothing at first, but
simply tucked a warm blanket around the two for their short ride
home. As her husband and sons piled close inside the carriage, she
finally whispered softly to her daughter, "You should be treated as
any other lady, Ella Whitney. Even when your father tells you
differently, remember that you are."

* * * *

Ellie's hands shook. "Lord Ashberry? Here?"
she confirmed, searching Fields' face.

The butler's brows drew together. "He asked
for Lord Edward or your mother, miss. I can easily say that no one
is here to receive him."

But someone was home to receive him and
Ellie knew it. The memory of his warm hand pressed into her glove
had not faded with a night's sleep and Ellie gave a brief murmur of
thanks that she had the presence to dress in a charming morning
gown of heavy burgundy muslin that was both warm and
presentable.

Drawing a deep breath, she took the plunge.
"Nonsense, Fields. He might have come on an important errand and
here I am."

Standing up, she shook out her skirts a
little before glancing at the butler again. He looked doubtful. "If
you're certain, miss?"

With a start of realization, Ellie realized
what Fields might be thinking. Carefully, so as to not hint at her
own feelings, she murmured, "I'm certain. However, it would perhaps
be best if you left the drawing room door open and informed Mama,
Papa or Edward that he has called just as soon as one of them comes
home." She knew without asking that Fields himself would be posted
directly outside the door, listening to every word.

After a moment, Fields nodded. "Certainly."
He stepped away, allowing Ellie to precede him, carefully
concealing his true feelings on the matter. The next time, Fields
planned to simply take the man's card and send him on his way.

Ashberry was carefully nonchalant as he
waited in the Whitney drawing room. Because he had often
encountered Edward in the afternoon at the clubs, he knew of
Edward's penchant to take lunch and spend the early afternoon at
White's. It was even more certain that the elder Lord Whitney would
be ensconced in discussions at St. James until a late hour—the
ministers there tolerated the baron's involvement in foreign
affairs at the behest of Parliament. In addition, he had listened
to his sister's chatter that morning at breakfast and had learned
that Charlotte and Lady Whitney planned to visit a number of shops
in Bruton Street that day, in search of the perfect furniture for
the new Whitney townhouse on Valentine Street.

The marquess had taken a guess that Ella
Whitney wouldn't accompany them and instead presented himself to
the Whitneys' butler promptly at half past one in the afternoon,
presuming an interest in speaking to Lady Whitney or her eldest
son. If no one had been at home to receive him, he knew he could
have simply left his card for the younger Whitney. In fact, he had
a number of ready-made reasons for wishing to speak to his future
brother-in-law or Edward's mother.

As it was, the drawing room was still empty.
Ashberry strolled across the room, fabricating an interest in a
landscape painting that hung between the two windows facing the
front of the house. Behind him, the doors clicked and the marquess
allowed a smile.

Turning, he drew a deep breath as Ella
Whitney stepped into the room. Behind her, the butler did not
bother to close the portals again, instead stepping to the side and
out of sight. With a smile for the girl approaching him, Ashberry
concluded that the servant had no intention of leaving him
completely alone with the girl and for a moment, the marquess
admired the loyalty the servants showed her.

He quickly forgot about the matter of the
butler, however. Ellie was composed, even serene in the early
afternoon light, and for a moment he wondered if her nervousness
had mysteriously dissipated after the previous evening.

When he grasped her hand in his gloved one,
he dismissed the notion. Her fingers were chilly and stiff and he
had to resist the urge to clasp them deep inside the warmth of his
own hand. "Good afternoon, Miss Whitney," he murmured instead,
lifting her fingers to his lips.

The contact, while not nearly as deliberate
as that of the previous night, was quite enough to disturb him.
Ashberry noticed immediately that beside him, his quarry's
breathing had shortened. Still, he had no reason to keep her hand
in his. He released it, allowing her to curtsy prettily in
greeting.

"Lord Ashberry," she murmured in return,
gesturing to a chair near the fireplace. "I apologize but my
brother is not at home presently, though we expect him within the
hour. Would you want to wait or shall I tell him you've
called?"

Having nearly forgot the proffered reason
for his visit, Ashberry stilled for a moment, then expressed a
desire to wait. He waited until Ellie settled onto the chair across
from him before sitting where she had indicated.

"I would be happy to spend a few minutes in
your company, Miss Whitney, until your brother returns," he
murmured politely, noting that she was still failing to meet his
gaze. "I meant what I said last night, you know," he said, more
intently, pleased when Ellie's head swung in his direction, her
eyes suddenly wide.

She covered her abrupt movement with a small
cough and openly refused to acknowledge his reference. "I have
ordered tea, my lord, while we wait, unless you prefer something
stronger?"

Ashberry smiled. He could see that she did
not intend to be reduced to the flustered innocent she had been the
night before, as though ignoring his comment would somehow deflect
him from continuing the thought.

"Tea would be refreshing," he allowed,
smiling as Ellie's fingers relaxed in relief. She was somehow
calmer than she had been during those large dinner parties, though
there was no sense in denying that his presence made her
nervous.

Whether her anxiety was good or bad he
didn't yet know, though Ashberry was determined to find out the
answer. "I'm pleased to find myself in your company once again,
Miss Whitney. A prettier companion for dinner, or even tea, a man
could not ask for."

The pink stain on Ellie's cheeks was
unmistakable and she looked quickly toward the door, as though
hoping the tea service would appear and relieve her of a response.
When it was not forthcoming, she swallowed heavily and looked at
her hands. "Thank you, my lord," she finally uttered, finally
seizing upon a topic of conversation that would not include her
appearance. "It is my understanding that Charlotte and Mama have
gone furniture shopping today. Have you seen the house Edward
purchased yet?"

A safe enough topic, Ashberry mused,
allowing himself to be distracted. He spoke quietly of the house,
until the butler pushed in the cart and Ellie poured them both a
cup of the brew. His mind, however, was still on the flush that had
graced Ella Whitney's expression minutes earlier. Her gown was
quite attractive, though the neckline rose to just around her
throat, giving him no chance to learn how far her blushes
descended.

Abruptly, he stopped the direction of his
thoughts and cleared his throat. "Overall, I'd say it was a wise
purchase and the right size for a couple meaning to retain it for
some years," he concluded, sipping from the cup.

Ellie nodded, setting her cup down on its
saucer and wondering wildly how to keep him talking. It was obvious
he had exhausted his opinion on the subject. "I find it has a
family atmosphere," she finally murmured inanely, the emptiness of
her words making her flush again even as they registered in her own
mind.

Ashberry had the gall to smile and set his
cup aside, the tea finished. Without speaking, he retrieved the cup
and saucer from Ellie's hands, thankfully not commenting on how
wide she knew her eyes had opened at his presumption. "You have no
need to be nervous of me, Miss Whitney," he finally said softly,
leaning forward across the distance between them and drawing her
fingers in his. He had no intention of allowing the butler, again
stationed discreetly outside the door, to hear his words.

With gloves discarded since the arrival of
the tea, Ellie's hands were clasped against warm skin. Sitting
properly was difficult enough, and more was impossible. She
couldn't hide the trembling in her hands. Her anxiety was perfectly
obvious, to both of them. Biting her lip after a moment, she didn't
try. "Denial would be a w-wasted effort, I suppose?" she asked
haltingly.

He nodded seriously, finally catching her
eyes with his. Once again, he squeezed her hands, comforting her,
though Ellie found it suddenly impossible to look away. His eyes
held warmth she could not possibly mistake, as well as an intensity
that Ellie didn't pretend to understand.

"I am not accustomed to ... receiving
without my mother present," she finally excused herself, hoping he
would release her hands, or at the very least her eyes, from his
command.

The words didn't have any discernable
effect. Patiently, he murmured, "Try again."

"I ..." Ellie caught the moment of panic
welling inside her and pushed it back down, touching her upper lip
slightly with her tongue to relieve the sudden dryness around her
mouth. The marquess had been nothing but kind, if slightly
indiscreet.

Her gesture must have warned him, because he
did draw back, releasing her hands and settling once again in his
chair. He did not, however, release her eyes from his gaze and
seemed to know that she could not now look away. In fact, she
thought riotously, he seemed to enjoy having her eyes under his
spell.

"I?" he prompted softly.

"I was wondering if you thought the room
chilly," Ellie seized upon the thought. "I could have Fields come
and build up the fire."

"No, I don't think so," Ashberry declined
gently.

Both stiffened at the boots in the hall, and
Edward's quiet voice.

Acting reflexively, Ashberry grasped his
teacup again, pouring himself another cup even as Edward appeared
in the doorway, his expression fierce. It relaxed only slightly at
finding his sister and guest in such an innocuous activity as
sharing a cup of tea, but his chilly demeanor was marked as he
kissed Ellie's cheek and drew a chair near the other two,
effectively ending any private conversation.

"I understand you wished to see me," Edward
addressed the marquess, a bit more aggressively than he usually
would do.

Ellie, surprised by the brusque tone, nearly
opened her mouth in shock. Without giving the marquess a chance to
answer, she hurriedly interrupted, her tone gentle, "The marquess
called just a few moments ago," she confirmed, drawing Edward's
attention to her. Reaching out, she patted his arm. "He was kind
enough to share tea with me while he waited for you."

Edward's brows rose. "And where is Mama?" he
asked quietly, the words a clear indication of his opinion in the
matter.

Ashberry heard the warning tones even more
clearly than Edward's sister did. He sat aside his saucer with a
distinct clatter and murmured, Edward's attention successfully
drawn away from the girl, "Miss Whitney has informed me that your
mother and my sister have seen fit to go shopping for furniture,
for your new drawing room and dining room, I believe."

Having years to learn the art of graceful
retreat, Ellie rose, clearing her throat. "If you'll excuse me,
Edward, my lord," she nodded to them both, "I will leave you to
your business." Glancing at Edward, she asked softly, "Should I
send in more tea?"

"That won't be necessary," Edward replied
curtly, his eyes assessing Ashberry with a sharpness in them that
Ellie wasn't sure she appreciated. "I believe Ashberry and I will
shortly retire to the library."

"Very well," Ellie bit back a warning word
to her brother and instead turned to the marquess, making her
position clear to Edward by speaking directly to the lord. "Thank
you for your kind words, my lord, and for ... visiting with
me."

Ashberry smiled, rising and catching Ellie's
hand in his again. Edward's presence did not dissuade him from the
ultimate goal though he realized that Edward had seen more in his
face, and certainly Ellie's, than he had planned to declare at this
stage. He offered the back of her hand a short, polite grazing
kiss, pleased to feel the tingle of awareness that gripped her even
in the presence of her sibling. "Miss Whitney," he acknowledged,
"Please believe me, the pleasure of your company was mine."