by Aston, Alexa
Reality would set in soon. They had reached the Thames. Marielle immediately sensed the difference between this and the Bay of Biscay and the English Channel. She knew from Bartholomew that they would arrive in the early hours of the morning. Going against everything the nuns had drilled into her, Marielle decided to enjoy these last few hours on the boat. Ashby slept peacefully now. She knew he would soon recover his strength and good cheer. She might never have this opportunity again.
She turned toward him, snuggling closely. Her cheek rested upon his chest, her arm across him protectively. This tiny cabin, this hammock, and this man had become her haven from the world.
Marielle drifted off to sleep, content.
Chapter Thirteen
Ashby awoke feeling warm and secure. He pulled the woman closer to him, her curves heating his loins. He heard a soft mewl, as if she were a kitten, and grinned.
Then his eyes shot open. He had no idea where he was or who lay in his arms. It wasn’t the first time that had happened to him but as he looked about, he panicked. He tried to think back to yesterday and drew a blank. Slowly, he turned his head to view the bundle of pliant flesh that snuggled next to him.
It was Marielle de la Tresse. Her long, auburn hair spilled around her shoulders. Her breasts pressed softly against his chest. His hands itched at the thought of caressing them.
Had they made love and he didn’t remember? How could he forget such a thing? If simply kissing her made Heaven and Earth move, surely time would have stood still as he loved her.
Then he realized what had occurred. He’d been ill from the waves’ motions. The seasickness struck him during the crossing when he’d left London for France and, apparently, had repeated itself. Bits and pieces flooded back. Marielle bathing his face, talking and singing to him, warming him.
He looked about the cramped quarters. The cabin was jammed with an assortment of odds and ends, with nowhere to sit and hardly any room to stand. The poor woman had no choice but to sleep with him. She began to stir. He remained perfectly still, willing himself to breathe evenly and deeply, as if he were still asleep. He did not want to embarrass her in any way after she’d cared for him so. He would take his cue from her.
Marielle stretched against him, bringing him immediately to the breaking point. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and make sweet love to her. Yet he was the perfect soldier, in full control, disciplined enough to remain unmoving.
She yawned. He swore he could feel her lashes, soft as a butterfly, opening and closing against his neck. Her scent was everywhere, filling his nostrils, his entire world. And yet, he kept motionless.
“Oh,” she yawned again.
Ashby could hear her tongue as it ran over her dry lips, moistening them. He’d heard of men being tortured before, drawn on the rack, their muscles ripped in half. It couldn’t be half as bad as what he suffered through now.
“Hmmm,” she sighed against him and finally sat up. She brushed back his hair from his forehead and placed her palm flat against it.
“No fever,” she murmured to herself. Her hand moved to his cheek. “Everything will be much better, Ashby,” she told him softly. “We will soon be in London.”
Marielle eased from the hammock and replaced the blanket over him. He longed to cry out for her to return. Never had such emptiness filled him when a woman left his bed. What was it about her that he so desired?
He heard stirring about the cabin, imagining what she might be doing. She finally came to him and shook him gently. He allowed his eyelids to flutter a few times and then lay still against his cheeks once again.
“Wake up, Ashby. We must try and get some food in you.”
He opened his eyes and tried to look groggy. She was the prettiest sight he’d ever awakened to.
“Marielle?” It surprised him how hoarse he sounded.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “You haven’t spoken since yesterday when we left France. We’ll be in London soon. Here, sit up. Have a cup of ale that Bartholomew brought earlier.”
She patiently helped him sip small bits of the ale until the cup was empty, feeding him bites of bread in between. His stomach gurgled loudly, making him aware of how empty it was.
Marielle giggled. “Bartholomew said once we are upon land, you will be weak a day at most. He said your appetite would return almost immediately. By this time tomorrow, all this will be but a fading, bad dream.”
Ashby knew it to be true. He’d been ill on the journey to France but he’d been his old self almost as soon as he’d set foot upon land, ravenous and ready to take on the world again. Now his only complaints were his head hurt and his joints ached from disuse.
“The only good part is that you stayed with me.”
She blushed. He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud.
“Now what was I to do? There was no one else to watch over you. I’m glad to have been of good service. After all, you are helping me escape an intolerable situation.”
That was true. He hadn’t thought much beyond getting her on the boat and taking her to Stanbury. There, she would be cared for, kept safe, far away from Marc’s clutches. But if Marielle were there, then he must go elsewhere. He could not stand to see her on a daily basis and want her as badly as he did now.
Ashby cursed his dismal luck. He’d never wanted for much and had been happy in his service to Garrett. Now, he wished for all the things that life hadn’t given to him, the things that would make him worthy enough to woo Marielle. She deserved far better than him, especially with the kind of life she’d lived up until now. He would work out the details before they reached the Montayne estate but he would not stand in her way of finding freedom and happiness with a man who could give her all the things she deserved.
In the meantime, he had much to accomplish in London during the next few days. It would give Marielle time to adjust after their journey.
He laughed aloud.
“What?” she asked, eyeing him curiously.
“I was thinking that you might need time to recover after our voyage when you look fit and ready as ever. I am the one who needs rest.”
She hesitated and then said, “What are our . . . your plans?”
Ashby sat up. His head protested the sudden movement but, already, he was feeling more like his usual self. They must have left the Channel and been sailing down the Thames for him to feel as well as he did. The violent rocking of the boat was now but a gentle swaying.
“I must stay in London a few days,” he said in answer to Marielle’s question. “There are some people I must meet with before we journey to Stanbury.”
“Madeleine’s home?”
“Yes, Madeleine and Garrett’s estate. It’s several hours’ ride to the south of London. In the meantime, we will stay at Garrett’s London home. Oh, Lord Almighty!” he proclaimed.
“You are ill?” she asked, concern wrinkling her brow.
He shook his head. “No. Far from it. It just hit me that you will meet Maude.”
“Maude? Who is she?”
Ashby laughed. “You will see.”
*
They said their goodbyes to Bartholomew, Ashby already joking as he always did. The change in him amazed Marielle. No one would guess by looking at him how ill he’d seemed just hours ago.
The London docks teemed with people and rats, both scurrying as if late to important appointments. Ashby aided her as they disembarked from the small vessel. As they reached solid ground, he dropped his small bag and fell headfirst. Marielle gasped and bent to aid him, thinking him ill again, only to see him kiss the earth. She started laughing.
He looked at her sheepishly and offered her a hand as he raised them to their feet. He retrieved his bag as she held her satchel.
“I swore that when we reached land, I would kiss the ground and never take it for granted again. I never want to see another boat as long as I live. Garrett must find another man to see to his business in France. My sailing days are officia
lly over.”
“Here, Sir Ashby. Over here,” a voice called out.
Marielle turned to see a tall, thin man waving in their direction. Ashby returned his greeting and led her over his way.
“Good day to you, John. Thanks for retrieving Lightning. How do you fare?”
The man named John bobbed his head up and down. “Fair to middling, I’d say. My wife’s in that way again. She can be a real terror in that state.”
“Will this make five or six children, John? I am afraid I’ve lost count.”
The servant’s laughter filled the air. “More like eight. At least I think it will be eight. I might have lost count myself!”
Both men chuckled. Marielle saw nothing funny about losing track of how many children one had.
“This is Madame Matesse. She comes from France and will be visiting Stanbury shortly.”
Ashby had told her he thought it wise to avoid use of the de la Tresse name for the time being. He’d asked Marielle what her maiden name had been before they’d boarded the ship in France. Now she understood that she would be known by Matesse. It felt right to her. She had longed to return to the girl she once was. With Jean-Paul’s death, all things were possible.
“A pleasure to have you visiting our fair land, my lady. Stanbury’s a right pretty place. The earl and countess will be good company to you.”
“Have you been with them long?” she asked, making polite conversation as they headed across the docks.
“My father’s father was head groom at Stanbury. My father took his place. I am in charge of Lord Montayne’s London stables.”
“Do you hope to return to Stanbury one day?” she asked.
John nodded. “That I do. London’s a bit cramped for my tastes but this is where Lord Montayne has need of me.”
“It’s a fine job you do, John.” Ashby turned to Marielle. “I have never met a better groom than John. He has a way with horses like none other. He but whispers in their ears and they are as putty in his hands.”
John halted their progress. “Seeing as how I didn’t expect a guest, Sir Ashby, I didn’t bring another horse.” The servant gave a coin to a small boy who’d obviously watched the animals for him.
“I’ll let Madame Matesse ride my horse and I’ll return by foot.”
Ashby studied the horses a moment. “No, John. Madame Matesse will ride Lightning with me.”
He gave a quick smile to her. “I promise I am a steady rider who does not take many chances.”
“Unlike me?” she asked under her breath, but a smile played upon her lips.
“Very good, sir. Maude asked me to stop at market to pick up some fresh fish for you.”
Ashby licked his lips. “I already feel my appetite returning. Maude does spoil me. I hope fresh eels will be part of your shopping?” he asked John hopefully.
“Yes, Sir Ashby. She knows you and Lord Montayne can’t get enough of eels in saffron sauce.”
“Then we shall see you back at the town house. I will rub Lightning down myself.” He gave his horse an affectionate pat, causing Marielle to miss Jezebel.
John nodded and mounted his horse. Ashby took his traveling bag and tied it on the back of the horse. He turned to Marielle.
“You packed awfully light.”
She blushed. “I was in a hurry.” She handed over the satchel that contained the casket holding her jewels. She still wore the two sets of clothing since she had nowhere else to put the spare change of clothes.
Ashby took the satchel from her. “Forget what I said about traveling light. I am surprised you were able to lift this. Do you travel with your most precious books?”
Marielle thought it best if he believed so. “You know how I am about my books.”
“Then you shall adore Stanbury’s library. It will make you feel right at home.” He attached her satchel to the saddle and mounted his horse, holding a hand out to her. “Come. Let us go.”
Marielle slipped her hand into his, and he hoisted her up in front of him.
“This could be a bit uncomfortable, so search about and find a position that feels right.”
She scooted a little bit and Ashby’s arms came around her. “Here, lean into me.” He brought her against him. “There. Will that do?”
Will that do? Marielle’s heart pounded so loudly, she expected to see it pop from her chest any minute now. His very nearness brought a giddiness to her belly unlike any she’d ever known. She’d lain next to him in the hammock but only she’d been aware of their bodies pressed together. Now they were both awake and positioned together and the heat he emitted would probably scorch her cloak, roasting them both alive.
“Yes. I am fine,” she said meekly, afraid to say more.
“We will reach Garrett’s place in about three-quarters of an hour. Relax now, while I point out all the sights of London to you.”
He made good on his promise, telling her about the different places they passed. Marielle heard the words rumbling from his chest but they held no meaning for her. The only thing that mattered was being next to him. His arms were closely about her, meeting to hold the reins. He smelled of leather and horse and something wholly masculine that rocked her world. Each breath she inhaled took in a little more of him, until she was filled with his essence.
“We’ve reached our destination,” he told her.
Marielle looked up at a large house, impressed by not only its size but its beauty.
“What a marvelous home!”
“This? It’s nothing compared to Stanbury. Now that estate is a marvel to behold.”
They rode onto the property and straight to the stables. A groom greeted them.
“I will be back in a moment,” Ashby told him. “I have missed my Lightning. I want to rub him down myself.”
Ashby eased her from the saddle before untying her possessions and his. “I want to take you into the house and let you get acquainted with Maude before I return to the stables to care for Lightning.”
He led her up to the house and stepped in. The fresh smell of pine enveloped Marielle.
“Maude’s been on a cleaning streak again,” he commented.
“And when have I not, you arrogant, winsome boy?”
Startled, Marielle turned and saw the tiniest woman she’d ever seen coming their way. Ashby dropped their things to the ground and went to the servant. He swept her into his arms, spinning her around until she grew quite pink in the cheeks.
“Put me down, you fool, or I’ll knock you from here to Wales.”
He laughed and set the woman down. She swayed slightly but held her ground. Then she caught sight of Marielle and cocked her head.
“You’re French, I daresay.”
Ashby gave an exasperated sigh. “Maude, you are trying to sound clever now. You know good and well I am returning from France.” He turned and indicated Marielle. “Allow me to introduce Marielle Matesse. She is a recent widow and neighbor to the Bouchards at Chateau Branais.”
Maude’s face lit up. “Do you know my Madeleine?”
Marielle shook her head, a bit put out. Judging by Maude’s face, she was as taken with Madeleine as Ashby.
“No, she was gone by the time I arrived at Monteville.”
“Marielle’s going to visit Madeleine and Garrett at Stanbury,” he informed the servant. “I am off to care for Lightning. So you two get cozy. Be sure to only say good things about me, Maude.”
“Oh, all right,” the servant grumbled good-naturedly.
Ashby left with a wink and a wave. Maude turned and studied her up and down a full minute without saying a word, closely scrutinizing her, especially looking long into her eyes.
Marielle was so taken aback that she said nothing in return. The longer Maude took in sizing her up, the more she felt Maude delved into her very soul.
Finally, the servant took her hand and drew her into a small room where a fire burned, its warmth enveloping the room. She led Marielle to a seat and took the one next to her, drawing h
er chair up close to Marielle.
“So, tell me, dear. How long has my boy been in love with you?”
Chapter Fourteen
Marielle was too stunned to reply. She shook her head, no words coming from her lips.
Maude took her hand. “Don’t deny it, child. It’s written plainly across his face.”
She shook her head. “You are mistaken, Maude. I lost my husband only a fortnight ago. Ashby has merely been a guest in my home. We hardly know one other.”
The older woman contemplated Marielle’s words before she spoke. “Be that as it may, the boy’s smitten with you. I’ve known him since he was a wee one, getting into all sorts of mischief with Master Garrett.” She snorted. “Ah, now, he’s another one, too, who brought me a girl from France. Couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t, not for one minute. He’d been married before but it had never been like that between him and his wife.”
Maude squeezed her hand. “I know those boys as well as if I’d given birth to them myself. I know what’s in their hearts. The master loves Madeleine with all his soul. I see the same between the two of you.”
Marielle’s face grew hot. “I am grateful to Ashby for helping me leave France. I was in a difficult situation there.”
“Just as Madeleine was. Oh, my boys. Two peas in a pod, they are. Both drawn to troubled, beautiful women.”
Marielle burst into tears. She hadn’t thought her feelings for Ashby would be so transparent. Yet here was a total stranger reading her most intimate thoughts.
Maude wrapped Marielle tightly to her. “Now, child, you’ll be fine. My Ashby will take good care of you. Whatever troubles you have, he will solve them. He’s a good man, that boy. Of course, he doesn’t know he’s in love with you just yet.”
She pulled away, startled by the servant’s words. “What?”