by Jane Lark
His brother laughed again and scathingly concluded, “She’s a whore!” As if it meant any man could do anything to her that he wished.
Edward didn’t hesitate again, and Ellen let him go. He grasped the lapel of the Earl’s coat, yanked him forward and knocked him down with one punch.
“Get up, you bastard!” Edward yelled, fists raised and ready to strike again.
“Why, so you can hit me again? I’m trying to help you. She is with you for what she can get, Ed, wake up. Don’t be so bloody naïve. And I shan’t be your damned punch bag. We both know your anger at me, is about more than her.”
“Edward, leave him be, please.” Ellen whispered. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to become the centre of their battle.
“Get up!” Edward repeated glowering at his brother, his fists still clenched.
Watching Edward all the time, the Earl stood, showing no intent to fight.
Edward’s arms suddenly fell slack and he straightened. “I should kill you, but you are not worth it!” Ellen gripped his hand, and his fingers wrapped about hers. “Rot in hell Robert, I shan’t join you.”
Turning away, Edward pulled her with him, speaking as he moved. “We are leaving, Ellen. Jill can pack and send your boxes to Forth’s. We’ll go on ahead. I’ll get Davis to stir up the grooms, I want to ride. I need to burn off his fumes.”
~
Bright silver moonlight reflected back from the dew dampened cobbles, when they thundered into Lord Forth’s stable-yard less than an hour later. The sound of iron horseshoes clattering and ringing on the cobble, announced their arrival. Ellen patted Pearl’s neck; it was damp with sweat. In moments, wide-eyed grooms appeared in the empty space, still pulling on boots and buttoning waistcoats as they hailed Edward and came forward to take the horses’ bridles.
Edward had ridden like a madman and she’d struggled to keep pace. They’d left everything behind. She’d just had time to change into her riding habit while Edward barked at poor Jill to pack everything else and bring it later.
Beside Ellen, Edward took one foot from the stirrup and swung it across his animal’s rump, throwing himself down to the ground. He landed firmly, his strength and agility clearly visible.
As she slipped her knee from the pommel of her side-saddle, he crossed the distance between them and caught her waist as she dropped.
His irritation with his brother had not dissipated despite their hell for leather ride. She could feel it in his tense grip as he caught up her gloved hand. Turning to look at the grooms, he ordered, “Walk the horses before you unsaddle them,” then asked, “Is Lord Forth here?”
“Yes, my Lord.” Tilting his cap, one groom leaned in a stiff bow. “My Lady.”
Edward nodded acknowledgement and tugged her into motion. For each of his long strides she had to take two, the skirts of her habit tangling about her legs. She tried to lift her skirts away from her feet but it distracted her from keeping pace and as her heel struck a damp cobble at the wrong angle, her ankle twisted. Edward’s strength took her weight, gripping her hand more firmly and hauling her up, and then she found herself pressed hard against his solid chest and his arm about her. She felt his heart racing, in time now with her own, and the sharp breaths that clawed into his lungs.
“Edward,” she met his gaze, “please, forget it.”
“Forget? He is my brother, Ellen.” There was pain in his voice. His brother’s assault had injured Edward more than her. This issue with his brother had brought Edward to London, bitter and angry. It had tormented him then, and now? She felt his next breath swell in his lungs.
Her fingers framing his jaw, she sought to intercede. “I do not think he meant harm, Edward. He did not physically hurt me. He knew where you were. He knew you were coming back. He cannot have planned to do much in the moments he had.” She had realised that now, now she could think back and her thoughts were not clouded by fear. “As he said he was testing me and trying to protect you. He did not defend himself or fight you, Edward. I do not think he intended any more than what he did.”
The breath he’d taken puffed out in a rush as he caught her hands and pulled them away sharply, his expression twisting in a disgusted sneer. “He insulted you and assaulted you, Ellen! I don’t give a damn for his reasons.”
“I’ve experienced far worse, Edward, let it pass,”
She could see his frustration; he was clearly itching for a fight. But she knew it was not her he wished to argue with. “I’m sorry, Ellen.” He let her hands go. His were shaking. “I am angry because I did not do what I should have done. I should have hit him again, and knocked the hell out of him. But I am too decent to do it, when he has no decency at all. And at this moment, I wish I were more like him, I should have murdered the bastard. He questioned why I don’t like him and then attacked you!”
“Edward.” she breathed.
“Give me time to get this in perspective, Ellen.” His chest rising with a deep breath, one hand lifted to sweep back his hair. “Forth will knock it out of me. Come on.” Catching up her hand again, he began walking. But already his pace was slower, the tension in his grip looser.
The butler held the door open when they reached it and as they entered Forth stepped into the hall with Julie behind him, dressed for the evening. “To what do we owe this honour? It’s rather late, Ed,” Lord Forth challenged.
Ellen had felt anxious about their late intrusion but her fears were misplaced. Despite his words a broad smile split Forth’s lips beneath his moustache and Julie rushed forward.
“We’re here to take up your offer.” Standing tall Edward tilted up his chin.
Ellen understood then—he hated the idea of asking for help, even from his friend. Edward was many wonderful things, but one of them was proud.
Wishing to return the support he always gave her, she moved closer and wrapped both her hands about the one that gripped hers.
“My offer?” Forth questioned, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Of hospitality. Robert has returned, and if I spend another night beneath his roof I think I’ll kill him.”
Forth’s eyebrows lifted. “Well then you had better stay, I’d rather that than watch you hang.” Ellen watched Casper’s hand cover his mouth. She could see he’d made the offer but hadn’t actually expected Edward to take it up.
“Could we trouble you for coffee?” Edward pressed. “I think Ellen could do with some.” The anger had already left his voice.
“Of course,” it was Julie who answered, taking Ellen’s arm.
Reluctantly Ellen let Edward go.
“What has happened? Where is John?” Julie asked, leading Ellen towards the drawing room.
Ellen glanced back over her shoulder and saw Edward answer something Casper had asked in a low voice she could not hear. When she turned back, Julie was looking at her with even greater concern. “You have not left John behind. What has happened?”
Emotion seeped from Ellen’s heart, but she steeled herself against it. “There’s no need to fuss, Julie, really, I’m fine.” But she was not. For the past few hours she’d been strong for Edward, yet suddenly, just hearing John’s name, made the weight of it too much. Her emotions toppled. Tears filling her eyes, her words were proved a lie.
“Sit down,” Julie quietly commanded leading her to a chair, which Ellen willingly dropped into, her legs now too weak to hold her up.
“Smithers, send for the coffee and have a room prepared,” Julie ordered of the hovering butler, before turning back to Ellen. “Tell me, what has happened?” Concern edged Julie’s voice as she sat beside Ellen.
But Julie’s kindness only unleashed a torrent of pain. Ellen had known so little kindness in her life. Like a whirlpool, pain rose up inside her and then from the hall she heard Lord Forth say, “I take it he does not like your bride.”
And Edward’s reply, “Rob likes nothing I do, least of all Ellen.”
Everything had gone wrong. Her floodgate broke, tears spil
ling from her eyes and Ellen covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook with soundless sobs and Julie’s arm surrounded her.
“Oh, my dear,” Julie said, rubbing Ellen’s shoulder. “Please, pour Lady Edward a Madeira, David.” Ellen lowered her hands, her crying easing as she breathed more deeply. The footman across the room moved to do Julie’s bidding.
In a moment Julie was pressing a glass into Ellen’s shaking fingers, as the echo of male voices in the hall drew nearer. Ellen held her breath and fought for control, her eyes lifting to Julie. “My father took John.”
Instantly she was drawn into a tight hug. “Oh, Ellen, why?”
The tears ran anew and for a moment Ellen just let them run and felt the sorrow she’d hidden deep inside her for too many years, and then she heard Edward’s footsteps.
Ellen pulled away from Julie and swallowed a mouthful of Madeira, wiped at the streaks on her face and sipped the sweet burning liquid again. It eased the knot of emotion in her throat.
As the men entered she set a closed lip smile on her face and looked back at Julie, silently asking her not to tell, but Edward’s gaze was already taking in the signs of her distress. Instead of sitting in a chair, he moved beside her, perched his hip on the arm of the sofa, reached for her hand and wove his fingers through hers. She knew the remains of his anger had dissolved when he’d seen her upset; he was forever selfless. His anxiety was for her now.
“Tell us what has happened?” Julie queried, watching them both.
“The Duke of Pembroke is my father.” With a light sigh Ellen began the explanation. She couldn’t not tell them, when they were so generously taking them in. Lifting her gaze to Julie’s she waited for the look of sudden understanding that would condemn her. It did not come. She continued, her eyes on Julie’s, she wouldn’t hide from this—the moment Julie would realise Ellen was unclean and not worthy of her comfort and friendship. “John is his heir. My first husband and I eloped. My father no longer recognises me, but he needs John. We’d taken him from school and my father came to fetch him back. Then Edward’s brother returned and now they have fought, because of me.” At that she stopped, catching a breath to block the tears which threatened to rise again. Then on another little sigh she concluded. “And now everything is one gigantic muddle.”
Contrary to Ellen’s expectations, Julie’s expression was amazement, not disgust.
“I knew it.” Julie exclaimed, turning to Casper. “Did I not tell you?” Then looking back at Ellen, she said. “You have an uncanny resemblance to Penny.”
“My sister?” Ellen breathed, feeling a sharp pain grip her heart.
“The Marchioness of Wiltshire is my dear friend.” Julie continued, with breathless excitement. “We were presented in the same year. But now I come to think of it Ellen, Eleanor… Eleanor… Good gracious.” Julie’s fingers pressed to her mouth.
Finally she understood.
“She thinks you dead.” Julie said, her hand falling. “They all think you dead. She has spoken of your funeral. Her eldest sister who eloped; it was said you died of a fever on the continent.”
Edward lifted their joined hands on to his thigh, covering Ellen’s with his other hand and holding it more tightly.
“Yes.” Was all Ellen could think to say. What was there to say? It could hardly be a denial. The unbearable silence that followed forced her to say more. “You have answered something for me at least. I’d always wondered if my sisters and my mother knew the truth, or if my father had lied to them too. Now I know.”
“But I am sure she would wish to see you.” Julie responded, hurriedly. “She speaks of you so often, so fondly. If I write and tell her you are alive, and here, I know she would come.”
Ellen shivered. She would love to see her sister, but her father would not agree to it.
“Ah, here is the coffee.” Casper stood. “Would you rather have something stronger, Ed? Brandy?”
“Yes.” The single word was a solid deep sound, Ellen glanced up at him. He was looking towards Casper, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
“Coffee, Ellen?” Julie asked.
“Yes. Please.”
Julie rose and took Ellen’s glass of half-drunk Madeira. “I could write to her tomorrow if you wished?” she said, moving to pour the coffee.
Ellen watched Julie. Her heart longed for the opportunity, yet her head warned her it was not possible. Penny was the oldest of her younger sisters. They had been close. It was Ellen’s biggest sorrow when she’d eloped with Paul, that she’d been unable to say goodbye. But her father would not let her see Penny. “As much as I would love to see her, Julie, I would not want to involve Penny in this, my father—”
Edward unwound his fingers from hers, interrupting her speech, stood and walked over to Casper to take his drink, then he turned to her, his gaze fixed and intent.
She knew that stubborn look, it meant he would not be shifted from whatever notion he’d set into his head.
“Julie is right,” he began, holding Ellen’s gaze. “That is the answer—if you want John back. We cannot fight the man with lawyers, but if your family recognise you again, your father would look too much the fool to deny you. You should meet your sister and write to the others. They are all married now, none under his control, and all of them to influential men. If together they stood against your father, I would like to see him fight against that. He’d look ridiculous if he did.
“We are going to London. That is what we will do, Ellen. Brazen it out and make the man squirm. We shan’t go after him. We shall force him to come to us.”
Ellen shook her head. “I can’t do it, Edward. I could not face them now.”
With that Edward set down his glass, walked to where she sat and squatted down onto his haunches. His hands rested on her forearms. “Do you want John back?” When he spoke one eyebrow lifted, visibly adding emphasis to his point.
Ellen didn’t hesitate. “You know I do.” But this would take more courage than she had.
“Then what choice do you have?” His touch slipped from her arms and he rose. Her eyes followed his movement. “Make them face you. Make your father face what he’s done.”
“And what if he makes it public?” she whispered.
“Then it is him that is shamed not you,” Edward answered.
Ellen took a breath and her eyes turned to the coffee Julie passed her, aware that they all studied her.
She had been the centre of attention before. She’d learnt to shut out the scorn, but if it came from people she loved, could she do it? Could she do it for John? For John the answer could only ever be, yes, she had to try. With Edward, her rock, she could try.
Lord, would he never cease to amaze her, the audacity of this was ridiculous. This was her all powerful father, of whom she had been scared all her life, and yet she could see Edward’s vision, he could be right. All she had to do was be brave. Her eyes lifted to Edward, he so very rarely seemed younger than her.
“I will do it.”
“And we will come,” Julie encouraged, warmth and determination in her voice. “I shall write to Penny and ask her to invite your family to London. We must gather as many people as possible to our side. You will need invitations. We must have a ball to launch her, Casper.”
Julie had said ‘our side.’ She was taking up Ellen’s battle then, flying Ellen’s colours as it were. Ellen would have Edward’s and his friends’ support. What Edward had said the night she’d met Julie was true. Julie did not care about her past. It was a freeing thought. Though Edward had said she would not be scorned if people knew the truth, she had not believed him. Now she was beginning to.
And if he was right in this, then he could be right about her father. Her eyes lifted to Edward. He’d done so much for her and in return, their marriage had cast a deathblow to his relationship with his brother. She had to find some way to help him in return.
A while later, Ellen stood in one of Lord and Lady Forth’s guest bedchambers, dressed in a bo
rrowed nightgown, leaning against the windowsill.
John was somewhere beneath the stars she saw, thinking of her as she thought of him, wondering if she would come for him, waiting. She knew it. Her fingertips touching the window pane, she looked out across the sweeping lawns into the distance as Edward blew out the candle. Darkness absorbed the room, but as it did it made the gardens clearer when her eyes adjusted.
She heard Edward moving behind her, barefoot, the floorboards creaking with his footfalls as he neared her. His fingers slipped about each side of her waist and splayed over her stomach, and his lips brushed her neck.
“Do you think we can really get John back?” she whispered, her breath dewing on the glass. “What if they do not accept me?”
“We can only try, Ellen.” His deep voice filled the air, the resonating sound sending a shiver through her body, and his hands swept lower, drawing her back against him stirring her desire. “If they do not accept you then we will simply find an opportunity to take John and leave the country.”
Her head tipped back to his shoulder and she sighed into the air, longing to escape thought and heartache.
“I want him back.”
“I know sweetheart, I do too. We’ll get him back, whichever way. I promise.”
Chapter Twelve
Unlike their journey north, on their journey south Edward joined Ellen in the carriage. As before, they only stopped to eat, sleeping in their borrowed carriage, but this time she slept against him, securely. They travelled faster with the grooms from Park House riding ahead to set up a change of horses at the next inn.
When they reached London, Ellen bowed willingly to Edward’s direction. His planning reminded her of the military campaigns she’d heard discussed when she was married to Paul; she knew he was treating this like a war.
His first assault was a visit to his aunt and cousins. It was an event Ellen did not relish but steeled herself for.
It took all her courage to sit on the long sofa before his aunt and his cousin Rowena, who’d yet to come out. Mentally Ellen chanted, I have a right to be here, I am Edward’s wife, pinning on a false smile. She was unbearably self-conscious. Edward led the conversation, painting a picture of her first marriage by elopement and their meeting. In a tearoom of all places. The same white lie she’d woven barely a month ago to her maid. It was a story many people would know was false, but Edward insisted few would dare to contradict. While Edward spoke, Ellen nodded when required and contributed to the conversation when she could. Edward explained that her father had disowned her because of her elopement and that he had taken John because he was heir to the dukedom. That she’d let John go because she’d been forced to work and feared she could not support her son. They’d deliberately left as much truth in the story as they could. Edward only missed one fact, how she’d earned her living since Paul’s death. Then he told his aunt they wished for her support to re-establish Ellen in society so Ellen may regain access to her son.