Embracing Ashberry (8 page)

He paused until Ellie nodded again, her eyes
thoughtful. When he saw she wasn't going to ask a question, he
finished, "Whatever decision you make, Ellie, please make it for
yourself. Neither one of our parents are really considering what is
best for you. The disagreement is over what is best for them." With
a smile, he kissed her forehead and added softly, "I saw the way he
looked at you, Ellie, and I know it was no mild interest, for he
assiduously avoids young innocents and the marriage mart. What he
feels is already quite intense, or he would have knuckled under
Papa's indignation."

Ellie agreed soberly, for she knew Edward spoke the
truth. As she answered, a rap at the door interrupted the
conversation, and both Ellie and Edward smiled at each other,
completely aware that while their conversation could not have been
overheard, their location was, as ever, duly noted by the attentive
staff. Gallantly, Edward again offered his arm. "Allow me to escort
you, my lady," he invited, and together they left the conservatory
to the news that the Ashberry siblings had arrived.

The marquess quickly acknowledged that Ellie would
be firmly under the eye of her brother. In fact, he doubted he
could have chosen a more determined chaperon, so loyal that the
man's own fiancée would have to accept the mere role of a
companion. As for himself, Ashberry was quite certain that young
Whitney would not try to accidentally lose the marquess' phaeton
and disappear with his bride. It was one thing to leave them alone
in the Ashberry drawing room or library, quite another to leave
them to their own devices behind their own coachman. Still,
Ashberry had concluded this was one situation where he could trust
the young man without a proper female chaperone before the vows
were exchanged.

Young Whitney permitted Ashberry to help Ellie with
her cloak but only because Edward wished to greet his own fiancée.
The marquess took advantage of the opportunity, however, smiling
gently at his heart's desire as he fastened the simple brooch that
held the pelisse closed. The colors of her gown were not
particularly fashionable for that Season and the dress was more
conservative than most of her contemporaries would be wearing that
morn, but on Ellie's slim form the stripes gave a suggesting
feminine shape to her modest figure. He found her quite fetching.
"You are quite enchanting, Ella," he whispered softly, kissing her
gloved hand.

Ellie blushed, for she truly was unused to such
compliments, and the marquess had once again used her Christian
name, which no one but her own family had ever used. She watched
the marquess step between her and Edward, so that her brother could
not observe as he touched a single finger to her cheek and drew it
slowly from her temple to chin before donning his gloves again.
Quite softly, he told her, "I have been positively aching to do
that since the first time I saw you and I'm afraid I could no
longer resist. I hope I did not offend?"

Her blush extended the entire length of where he had
touched, but Ellie managed to shake her head. "It is quite chilly,
Edward," the two heard Charlotte say. "Do you have extra
blankets?"

Edward's quiet assent was clear, as was the
marquess' smile as Ellie tied her bonnet over her elegant chignon.
"We will stay warm," Ashberry supplied confidently, drawing Ellie's
arm onto his. Edward and Charlotte followed them out the front door
and both gentlemen helped the ladies up into their respective
equipages. Ashberry led the two away from the house and into the
street.

Ellie smiled inwardly, though her face remained
serenely composed. Ashberry was certainly a gentleman, even if he
had been a little more forward than she would have expected.
Turning slightly so that he could see her face inside the bonnet,
she murmured, "I want to thank you for suggesting that Edward and
Charlotte join us, from a short distance."

"Certainly," the marquess answered, only glancing at
her as he concentrated on moving his horses through the street.
"Although my reasons are selfish. I didn't particularly care to
have your maid or other companion along to crowd the seat and
listen to our conversation but after some thought I concluded that
you wouldn't come out with me alone."

Ellie blushed again, though the wind had disguised
her cheeks with a rosy shine. "It was probably also wise to go in
front, for he won't be turning around to check on me and causing an
accident."

Ashberry laughed, for Ellie's imagination fit her
brother's behavior perfectly. "He is quite protective of you. I
suppose you must have wished for a sister to take away some of the
burden."

Ellie shrugged a little. "He has been a wonderful
brother. More than any sister could hope for," she said softly
after a moment, fingering the blanket on her lap.

The marquess looked down at her fingers, immediately
noticing the change in her voice. Ellie had a good deal of
affection for her brother but her loyalty to him sparked sad
memories as well. "Then I won't try and convince you that marriage
could rescue you from an abominable home life," he teased
lightly.

Ellie looked at him, startled for a moment until she
realized he was flirting with her. She breathed a sigh of relief
before biting her lip and smiling for a brief moment. "Tell me
about your home life," she asked after a moment.

Ashberry had seen the smile, though she had turned
her head away and looked to her lap. He didn't try to hide his
pleasure at her response to his teasing but smiled easily as he
thought about her question.

"It's changing," he said eventually. "My little
sisters won't be coming home with me when I leave London—they'll
have their own homes to organize and their own small families to
care for. Sebastian, my heir for the moment, manages my affairs
here in London and makes his home with Aunt Lucy—that is, Lady
Westhouse. Spencer and Sidney are staying here in London for a year
and then will prepare to take up their Navy commissions. After I
leave, he and Aunt Lucy will be looking after the boys and our
relation Sarah Shelling, the girls' former governess who wishes to
retire here in London—at present she's supervising the staff at
Ashberry Park. I'll be returning to Cumbria without the six people
who have always been there." He laughed a little. "I suspect
Ashberry Park will be quieter for a time than it has been in many
years."

"You've still decided to go north?"

Ashberry glanced sideways at Ellie, surprised that
her father had revealed the extent of their conversation. "I will
wait until after the Christmas holiday. And I'm hoping now that I
won't be going alone."

Ellie bit her lip. Now was her chance. She had
thought of a way to explain, without actually explaining all that
had happened to her. "It wouldn't be fair to you," she said softly,
staring straight ahead as the phaeton turned into Hyde Park.

"Why not?" the marquess asked bluntly, not bothering
to pretend a misunderstanding. "I can't imagine that when the sun
sets you turn into a man, or some other such nonsense."

Ellie swallowed a sob that rose, unexpected though
it was, at the top of her throat. She knew that the lord beside had
not meant to hit so squarely her worst fears. "I do not know, my
lord, if I can bear you children," she finally said, the words
breathless.

FOUR

The raw statement hung between them for
several long minutes before the marquess took one hand from the
reins to cover Ellie’s. They were clenched on her lap, so tensely
that he thought she might break her own fingers.

“I did not mean to offend you, Ella,” he
said softly. “As to children, I have three fine, honest healthy
brothers, and I am sure that at least one of them will have a
family. I have never been concerned about my own nursery or the
identity of the next marquess. I have already raised one set of
children.”

“You do not want your own children?” Ellie
asked, a little agony in her voice.

Ashberry knew then that Ellie’s past was a
constant source of pain to her soul and he imagined for a moment a
child in her arms. Although his honest answer would have been yes,
Ashberry astutely guessed that Ella Whitney ached for the
motherhood everyone thought difficult, if not impossible. It was a
priceless gift he could give her, and Ashberry knew without
question that he was the only one who would be allowed close enough
to even consider it. Should he fail in his quest to make the girl
beside him his wife, Ella Whitney would be whisked away to the
seclusion of Cornwall, likely never to be seen again until all
pretenses of age and beauty had passed.

A more daunting question she could not have
asked.

The marquess sighed inwardly, accepting that
the girl beside him would lead him directly into his worst fears.
He actually considered for a brief moment if she was the one he
wanted beside him in life, then dismissed the thought half a second
later. His gut had clenched and his jaw ached at the mere
suggestion he had made to himself. The thought that she might be
left to drift along for the next fifty years without living was
abominable. However, Ella Whitney could not belong to any other
man—she was meant for him. It made no matter that the gift she
asked for, albeit unknowingly, could cost him his very soul.

He knew instinctively that he would welcome
any children he and Ellie might beget, if they all survived the
nine months of endless torture that preceded a baby and the painful
period required to actually birth it. Ashberry’s true fear was that
they would not all survive the experience; to be responsible for
the death of his wife was a nightmare Ashberry didn’t believe he
would face any more successfully than his father had.

His jaw actually trembled at the thought.
Intellectually, Ashberry knew that the price demanded for each new
generation was dear but that not every mother was required to pay
it. It was simply unfortunate, a decree of fate that both of
Ashberry’s mothers had been charged that impossibly high fee. But
understanding and acceptance were two very different
conditions.

Glad the park was nearly empty at this hour
and this late in the year, Ashberry steered quite far from the few
carriages, allowing Edward to set his own pace behind them.

Ashberry had not realized that Ellie would
face the challenges between them so quickly, but as the minutes
passed and neither spoke, he also realized she would not wish to
prolong the courtship if any question about her ability to bear
children would cause him to reverse his decision.

Eventually he answered quietly, “I would
welcome babies, Ella, if they did not present a risk to you. I have
been given to understand that, in the past, you have been quite ill
and as a result, the question of you safely bearing children
legitimately concerns me. I would love them dearly if fate has that
in store for us but I do not need them to be fulfilled in life or
to pass on my title. In this matter, you—your life—are of primary
concern to me.”

He cleared his throat, explaining more
fully, “I have already raised 5 children, two from infancy,
beginning when I was just fourteen and essentially depending only
on what advice Aunt Lucy could send through the post and on my
step-cousin Sarah Shelling, a relation my stepmother brought to
Ashberry Park as the girls’ nurse. They are all quite dear to me,
as would any more children be, but I would be just as content with
nieces and nephews. I will not withdraw my suit for such a reason.”
He looked significantly at the girl beside him then squeezed her
hand. “I assume you have reason to doubt yourself?”

Ellie had been certain during his long
silence that he would back away, for he had seemed tense, lost in
thought. In fact, she had allowed a certain despair to begin
filling her stomach and heart with unexpected pain. At his words,
she frowned, trying to frame a coherent reply even as the painful
choking sensation eased slightly.

Finally, she admitted slowly, “The doctors
are ... cautious about my ability to carry a child to term. The
thing ... the thing that I must tell you about. It has to do with
... with why they have doubts.”

“Then I am confident you will share it with
me, when you are ready,” the marquess offered quietly.

Ellie could hardly find fault with his
consideration. He was undemanding, not even irritated with her
prevarication, honest though it was. Knowing she needed to defuse
any interference from her father, she added, “My parents, my father
particularly, thought it best to tell you that I had a terrible
accident that will prevent me from having children and from which I
still suffer other ill effects. It would explain quite nicely why I
was not brought out, why my parents are not seeking a husband on my
behalf. Papa was sure that it would change your intentions.” She
took a deep breath before adding, “But it is not precisely true
that I am not able to carry a babe, only that the doctors are
cautious and, in truth, the only ill effect I still suffer is the
occasional nightmare.” Biting her lip, she added softly, “For you
to make a decision in good faith about me, I will need to tell you
why the doctors say what they do about me, and this will be
difficult for me.”

Looking off toward the trees in the park,
Ellie considered how to finish her small speech. “Should I ever
marry, it would quickly become evident that the concerns about my
health were not caused by an accident. It would be dishonest and
unjust, to you, to pretend to be something I am not. In fact,
except for this one thing and my ... reserve, I am in perfect
health.” She paused, before warning him in a subdued voice, “If my
father interferes, he will not tell you the true reason.”

Exhausted from the long explanation, Ellie
looked down at her hands. He had not spoken during her explanation
but neither had he drawn away his hand. It still was clasped around
hers as he guided the sedate horses over the stones. Unable to
brave anything more, she waited in an agony for him to speak,
wondering if she had explained adequately or if she had even said
too much.