by Jenn LeBlanc
“I still don’t understand what you’re asking of me,” Ellie said.
“I’m asking you, Maitland Allison Elliot Rigsby, my precious Ellie, if you would take Baron Endsleigh as your husband and come live with me for the rest of our lives, peaceful, happy, and far from this maddening crowd, in a small cottage, or…I suppose a grand castle on the sea.”
“What? Did he—”
“Not yet. I haven’t spoken with him yet, or any of them, but I just… I need you my Ellie and I think this is a way for us to be together, forever. Somewhere safe where nobody could touch us. I needed your permission first, before I talk to Hugh, and Castleberry, and Amelia. Because I would never betray your trust and… Ellie, do you understand what I’m saying?”
“You wish for me to marry Ender. So I can live with him, and he can live with them, and we can all…”
“We can all be at peace, yes.”
“In that case, yes, Louisa, I will marry your baron and spend the balance of my days making you happy. At the edge of England.” Because of course she would. It was perfect, exactly what she wanted. To give Louisa the freedom to simply be. She felt lighter.
“You’ll give up all of this?” Louisa said, waving a hand in the air.
“For you? I would give up everything, Louisa. I’d already asked Hugh to find me a cottage near the estates so I could move closer to you. I saved up money and I— I couldn’t wait any longer and I didn’t want to wonder, constantly, where you were.”
“Ellie. You did?”
“Of course I did, Louisa. I told you, your heart is all I own. Nothing else matters. I’ll follow you anywhere.”
Louisa leaned in and kissed her then, like it was a first kiss, and in some ways, perhaps, it was. It was the first time—since that first time—that they’d kissed with the possibility of a future together.
“When will you ask him?” Ellie asked, and Louisa rolled her to her back, slipping between her legs, pulling the cotton nightgown up to gain access.
“As soon as I find Hugh. As soon as I know for sure it’s safe to ask.”
“You’ll ask Hugh?”
“Yes, I’ll ask Hugh first. I wouldn’t dare speak with Amelia or Castleberry until Hugh agrees it’s possible.” Louisa pushed up, gathering Ellie’s legs wide across her thighs as she pushed against her, and Ellie’s back bowed, grinding her mons against Louisa, and every single bit of her body tightened then released as if her very skin took a deep breath, opening her up to take Louisa. She was hot and cold. Everywhere. Nothing was enough.
“Louisa, teach me something. You promised to teach me everything. Teach me,” Ellie said.
Louisa kissed Ellie slow, sinking against her and letting her legs splay at her hips. “This is your mouth, bouche, comprised of lips and tongue, teeth.” She ran a finger over the pointed edge of her lips, dipping it in and wetting it against Ellie’s tongue before lining them with the wetness and kissing her.
“Yes?”
“Yes, and your mouth is one of your most powerful tools for making love.”
“Making love?”
“Yes, Ellie. Sex, intercourse, marital relations, fucking, rutting, grinding.” She pushed against her again. “But you and I, we make love, Ellie.”
“I like the sound of some of those other words, though. Louisa, would you teach me those too?”
“Not until you’re well and truly married, Ellie. The last thing I want to do is frighten you off.”
“Frighten me? Have you gone mad? You can’t frighten me.”
“Then perhaps it’s because right now all I want is to prove to you how much I love you before I marry you off to my friend, and words are not enough so using my body is the only option I have.”
“Then show me, Louisa. Show what it means to make love and tell me about the rest after the wedding.”
And so she did.
Louisa
Louisa stopped Hugh as he walked for the entry of Charles’s town home. The three of them had managed to reconcile for the most part and after watching Amelia regain her footing somewhat, Louisa decided she felt safe enough to approach Hugh.
It had been a long night. Amelia was settled, and Hugh was headed for his own townhouse.
“My lord, if I may have a word.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“My lord, I wanted to speak with you about this predicament we find ourselves in,” Louisa said.
“Which…predicament is that?” Hugh asked, and Louisa rolled her eyes. She was exhausted.
“The predicament of you, living with them as a family…for lack of a better term. You can’t live with them at Castleberry and not raise some sort of suspicions. You do realize.”
Hugh took her by the arm and led her into the parlor, away from any remaining servants. They walked to the settee and he sat next to her.
“I may have a solution.”
Hugh’s gaze narrowed on her as he froze tip to toe, his muscles tensing all the way. “Go on.”
“You should marry Maitland.”
“I fail to see how—” he started but then he considered. “How?”
“You marry Maitland Elliot. Castleberry marries Amelia. We all, all of us, return to your estates on the sea. Who stays in which houses is… up to us, I should say.”
“You must speak with Maitland. I don’t want—”
“I already have. She gave me permission to… um… She sent me to offer for your hand. As it were.”
Hugh brightened, some of his old joviality returning, a spark in his eyes that had been missing for quite some time coming back. Louisa couldn’t help but to smile. “Are you making me an offer, Miss Present?”
“One I would hardly think you’re in any position to refuse. I suggest you take me up on it before I find myself some other—”
Hugh stood and pulled her up, then lifted her and spun.
“Dear God, put me down. I’m much too tired for this.”
“Oh, but Louisa, this is me, accepting your proposal.”
“Then, perhaps you should tell your bride?”
Louisa
In the end, Ellie saved them all. Louisa had thought watching Ellie marry someone, anyone, would tear her apart. But the reality was that…it was Hugh, and Hugh had saved her countless times. Castleberry had helped Hugh obtain a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury, as they’d all decided that quitting London in an expedient manner was best and without Ellie wed, she’d be left behind.
Louisa followed Amelia and Castleberry through the nave to the front pews where they would be seated. She saw Hugh in the south transept across the aisle from them, and a shiver rushed her skin. She turned to find Ellie in the north transept behind her, waving her over. She stood and walked to her, her lungs still as a summer breeze against the chill of the cathedral. Ellie wore the dress with the stars. She hadn’t even known she still owned it.
“Ellie,” she said, and the first twinge of apprehension hit her belly.
“I’m nervous, Louisa.”
“Why?”
Ellie took her hand and pulled her deep into the abandoned transept. “I… I know this is an arrangement of a marriage and that we will all be free to live, and—that’s all well and good, and beautiful, but…” She worried her lip with her teeth, and Louisa looked about to be sure nobody had wandered close enough to hear them, then took her other hand.
“But?”
“Tonight, Louisa. It’s my wedding night. With Hugh.”
“And?”
“And I…I know we discussed it, and we were all in agreement that Hugh and I would—” she wiggled her fingers, “—and have children. But now that it’s here, I’m nervous, and it isn’t so much that it’s a man. I’m thankful that it’s Hugh. It’s just that…well, it’s not you.”
“It isn’t, is it,” Louisa said, letting the thought sink in as Ellie had done. She played with Ellie’s fingers as she considered it for the first time. Babies in theory were much different than babies in pract
ice—the making of them much the same.
“And we will be at Hugh’s townhome, so far from you. I wish…”
“What?”
“I wish you could be there. I wish you could be at his home, as awkward and strange as that sounds. I wish you could be close by.”
“I wish for that as well, but it’s…just not possible. I must stay with Amelia, particularly if Hugh is away. She’s been recovering and we cannot take any chances.”
“I understand. I only wished.”
“Me too.” Louisa sniffed when the processional passed through the crossing, the incense stinging her eyes as it spread. She wrapped Ellie up in a hug, kissing her cheek, below her ear, where nobody would have seen her do it, whispering, “I love you,” before releasing her and walking to sit with Amelia. Hugh’s one request for the wedding was that Amelia be present, that she sit behind Ellie and remain present throughout the ceremony. Louisa sat next to her, Castleberry on her other side. This wasn’t easy for Amelia either, and Louisa concentrated on helping Castleberry to support Amelia.
He swept circles into her back, and Louisa watched to be sure she wasn’t letting her mind have a way with her. It seemed to her then that she may soon be superfluous in Amelia’s life. What a blessing that would be for Amelia to have both of these men who know her so well as to be able to care for and help her as much as she needed. Louisa knew beyond a doubt that under any other circumstances, Amelia would not have been cared for in such a manner. In any other family, at any other time, she would have been sent to a hospital for the mentally infirm.
It saddened her though that she may no longer be needed. They would retain the outward appearances, of course; they needed a position for Louisa to be relevant and explained within their household. It frightened her a bit that she was the sole person in this arrangement who wasn’t bound by law.
But she trusted. She looked up to see Ellie smiling so brilliantly at Hugh that it brought tears to her eyes. She knew why. She knew it was the same happiness she felt at beginning their life together, but it was difficult to see.
“Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
Louisa’s breath stilled and Ellie lifted her chin, closing her eyes and responding, “I will,” then she tipped her face, looking over her shoulder much as she had the very first time Louisa had ever seen her, and caught her eye. “I will,” she repeated. Louisa felt a warm hand at her hip, and looked to find Castleberry with a kerchief and she wasn’t sure how to compose herself then. She took the soft linen and dabbed her eyes, and he rested his arm behind Amelia’s back, his warm hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t realized how important it would be for her to trust this man as well. But he held the balance of her life in his hands, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. He was powerful—one word and she would be crushed, as she was nobody. She could never quite settle into the joy of the solution with her life still hanging in the balance unprotected.
She watched the rest of the ceremony without paying much attention to the words, leaning into Amelia and sharing her warmth as Castleberry comforted the both of them.
“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
The full service continued after the wedding vows and after the second lesson Castleberry’s hand tensed on her shoulder and she looked up.
The priest said, “I publish the Banns of Marriage between His Grace Charles Jackson, Duke of Castleberry, of Beryshire and London, and Lady Amelia Pembroke, of Pembroke-By-The-Sea and London. If any of you know cause, or just impediment, why these two persons should not be joined together in holy Matrimony, ye are to declare it. This is the first time of asking.”
Amelia went stiff between them, the cathedral quiet enough the mice were frightened. But nobody declared anything, and they all took a breath as one. The first of many, she supposed. Castleberry’s hand went to soothing circles in Amelia’s back once again, and Louisa distracted herself from the rest of the service by concentrating on Amelia beside her.
After, Louisa waited in the narthex for the crowds to thin and the people to congratulate both Ellie and Hugh as well as Castleberry and Amelia at the front steps. Just being there had been difficult for her. She’d no intention of wandering in the after-service crowds.
“It is you.”
An icicle of fear slid down the curve of her back, resting against her tailbone, melting its cold drips into her skin, sending gooseflesh back up to her shoulders, down her arms, her legs. She crossed her arms and ducked her head. If she could avoid any confrontation— We are in public. He wouldn’t dare make a scene in full view of the church.
“Louisa, look at me,” her father said, and all that cold water froze. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.
“Please don’t, sir. You’re mistaken.”
“I know my own daughter,” he said and took two steps toward her—much too close.
“You have no daughter, my lord. You said so yourself. You have no daughter.”
“Louisa!” His voice boomed through the narthex and echoed into the nave as he grabbed her by the arm and pushed her into a corner.
“No.” Louisa stopped shrinking. “No!”
“You are supposed to be at the Magdalene asylum. Why are you here?”
“Did you truly expect me to stay where you put me?” She stared into his eyes then, searching for some semblance of the father she’d occasionally wished was hers—but he wasn’t there. The viscount’s face was a mask of anger and hatred. She didn’t know this man and she’d no purpose in knowing him in the future. She pushed against his broad chest. “Let me go before I scream.”
“No, I’m returning you to where you belong. You should have learned by now to stay where I put you.” He moved then, dragging her behind him down the south transept, toward south stairs that would lead to the graveyard where nobody would see them. She fought. With all her might. This wasn’t going to happen again. This isn’t going to happen again.
She heard heavy steps behind her and screamed then stuck a hand into his ribs and pinched as hard as she could. He yowled and pushed her to the floor, releasing her, but she wasn’t on the floor long. Big, warm hands lifted her, wrapped around her, squared off with the viscount.
“What is the meaning of this? You attack a member of my household?” Castleberry’s voice seemed calm but it seethed with the sort of anger that could burn the world to the ground. He was a living, breathing reckoning. His expression shifted, the edges smoothing, his eyes going wide with concern. He ran his hands down her shoulders. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, unable to respond. “Do you wish to claim him?” he whispered, and she shook her head again. It shocked her to her core to consider that Castleberry believed it to be her decision whether or not this man was her father and not the reverse. Then it shocked her to her core that she hadn’t already believed it. “Do you wish to speak to him?”
“No, thank you.”
He nodded once and tensed when Mayjoy spoke.
“Sir, you have no claim here. Member of your household—the very idea. This is my daughter.”
Castleberry bristled. “Might I?” he asked, and she nodded once more. “As you wish.” Castleberry stood tall then, placing Louisa behind him and turning back to her father. He kept one hand on her arm. “Your daughter? Sir? You must be mistaken. I am the Castleberry. This is one of the maids of work in my household. This woman serves the future Duchess of Castleberry and has for several years now.”
“Castleberry?” The blood drained from his face, and he took a step back.
“Sir.” He said it with such finality that her father’s entire demeanor changed, shrinking before her eyes as she watched.
“I meant no offense, Your Grace, but there must be some mistake.”
“Do you intend to offend me further, Mayjoy? I’ve made no mistake here.”
“No, Your Grace, but—”
“I have no qualms with seeing to destroying everything you’ve built if you continue to insult me in this manner.”
Louisa watched Castleberry’s face as he volleyed with her father, the ferocity of his countenance somehow soothing when it was portrayed on her behalf. He was terrifying, and he was laying it all out in protection of her—a simple maid.
“Do you mind explaining to me how the daughter of a viscount ended up a simple ladies maid in the household of a duke?”
Her father sputtered in response.
“You are mistaken.” Castleberry enunciated every word, each one given a pointed flinch in response from Mayjoy. Castleberry waited for a response, the silence deathly shallow.
“Your Grace, I’m mistaken. I beg pardon for this…” he waved a hand toward her, “unfortunate misunderstanding.”
“There’s no misunderstanding here, Mayjoy. Make no mistake in that simple fact. I understand everything. But you are mistaken in thinking that this woman is your property or has any obligation to you whatsoever. Is that quite clear?”
“Your Grace?”
“Is it?” And this time the Duke’s voice boomed, carrying through the sanctuary and beyond even bigger than Mayjoy’s had. “Explain it to me in detail.”