A knock sounded upon their door, and Angel opened it, meeting the tired but kind eyes of their captain.
“Captain Roswell, we just heard the news, thank God, sir, and I must say it was because of your incredibly abilities that we made it to England safely.”
“Safely, yes, you are right, even though the ship took a battering. However, once fixed, I will be leaving back for the Americas in two weeks, and therefore you can send whichever letters you wish back home.”
“Oh, sir, thank you, I will make sure to do just that, but I must meet Hunter’s brothers, now, she tells me there will be two, Caleb and David upon the wharf. I know they must be worried since we have arrived later than planned.
“Yes, go and do so, while I tell the men to bring your luggage on the docks.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Angel said, before scurrying outside, forgetting to pin her hair up which tumbled down upon her back in a mass of black silky waves and forgetting even her hat, because she was in such a rush to meet the brothers and ask if Hunter had as of yet, delivered the babe.
She hoped that she hadn’t, wanting to be there for her most treasured friend as she ran lightly upon the ship’s deck, muttering excuse me, to get around the many people before having to halt at the gangplank and make her way more sedately down the walkway, for fear of tumbling over into the quite cold and dirty water.
With her head down and skirts lifted lightly, Angel had no idea what a beautiful picture she presented as her hair whipped around her shoulders in the light and dry wind, as more than one man paused, taking in the soft curve of her cheek, her deep golden brown skin, her full lips and the feminine curve of her form.
And it was Asher who noticed more than most, this beautiful woman walking down the gangway. He watched, standing next to a pallet of crates someone had dropped beside him, studying her as she scanned the crowds, her eyes light, even though he could not make out their color and slanted upwards at the corner. Her cheekbones were high and swelled down to beautifully full lips; the upper lip decidedly curved, the lower, full and plump. As her hair whipped around her curvy, but lithe form in the wind, Asher was entranced, as she grew closer, still as yet, not seeing him, turning to and fro to study the quickly dissipating crowd.
He was almost about to make his presence, known, knowing without a shadow of doubt that this was Angel, when someone called to her from the ship.
“Ms. Barrett!” The voice exclaimed, a large, black male in captain’s gear leaning over the railing to call to her. “Do you see your friends’ brothers?” He asked, slight worry marring his dark eyes.
Angel, as Asher had known it would be, turned towards the captain, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. “No, captain, I do not,” she called back, and the wind caught her words, made them caress Asher’s very soul before they dissipated in the air. “Perhaps they have left already for her husband’s estate.”
“Then I shall deliver you personally there,” the captain returned and Asher did not like the look upon his face, the captain was definitely interested in this beautiful Angel, and Asher felt something vastly unusual feel his soul and nearly saw red when he named it…jealousy.
Yet, Asher was never jealous, hadn’t been in years, not since her…and he refused to allow it any more room, instead, moving away from the crates and walking towards Angel who had just started making her way back up the gangplank.
“Ms. Barrett.” Asher said behind her.
The words were a demand, nearly, far from a question, who ever called her name, knew just who she was as Angel turned around, not knowing what to expect, accept deciding that the voice was very male, very dark and carried a cold trace to it.
She turned, her eyes meeting first a black frock jacket and a snowy white cravat, the arms, chest and shoulders were incredibly wide, wider even then her father’s, or Captain Roswell’s. Her eyes continued traveling slowly, taking in the breath of his neck visible above his cravat, the darkly tanned and hard jaw line, firm lips, the upper one a little thin, while the lower one was plump, a narrow nose, with nostrils like two half hearts before finally settling upon eyes a beautiful feline gold with flecks of green inside them and jet black windswept hair, a top hat held in his hand casually.
Angel felt her heart beat erratically in her chest, thump…thump, as she tried to catch her breath. She bit her lip, trying to ease her scattered thoughts into some semblance of words and couldn’t, giving up, as heat rushed to her face, knowing she was flushed red, and not being able to help it. She had never reacted so violently to a man before, any man, and felt something unknown begin deep inside her, in her womanly place, that she rarely even thought of.
“You are Ms. Barrett, are you not?” The man asked again with a hint of a question on the end, this time. And Angel noticed the deep dimples that creased each side of his cheek as he spoke.
She finally responded by nodding, feeling as if she had been struck dumb. “Yes, yes, I am she…I mean, Angel, Ms. Barrett.”
And now she was rambling and tightly closed her lips, before releasing them slightly, but keeping one lip pulled between her teeth.
Asher had felt lust before but this was ridiculous, when she pulled her bottom lip and bit it gently he wanted to be the one, biting it gently, pulling, and tasting her. He had never felt such an uncontrollable burst of passion and instead, studying her eyes, a beautiful gray rimmed with the darkest of blacks. Her eyelashes were dark, curly and made her unusually exotic eyes seem even more exotic, tilted at the corners but still wide. He’d never seen eyes shaped like hers and stared hard at her before realizing she was speaking.
“I do not know which brother you are, Hunter only telling me two would meet me, Caleb and David, here, are you perhaps joined by another?” She asked, staring at him, taller than Hunter by some inches, at least four or five, and Asher placed her height at five feet six inches.
It didn’t take Asher long to realize that he would make her his next mistress…or lover, depending upon the length of time she was visiting his sister. He smiled, remembering Hunter’s penned message that he was not to try to seduce her friend, but what Hunter didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
“I am Asher, the second oldest, Ms. Barrett, where are your trunks, we must leave as soon as possible, my first niece or nephew is due to arrive at any minute.”
Every word he said was hard, deep, clipped in his English accent, yet, there was a tangible hint of warmth that Angel gravitated towards.
“I shall ask the captain when my trunks will be brought up,” she said, hurriedly turning away, before turning back towards him. “And thank you so much, Lord Davis, for seeing to me,” she replied.
“I am not a lord, that title is reserved for my father, you may call me…Asher, as Hunter has told me so much about you, and I shall call you…Ms. Angel,” he said her first name for the first time, enjoying the way it rolled off his tongue. “If that is alright with you, of course?”
Angel nodded, once again, feeling her heart flutter in her chest, before walking back up the gang plank, hoping beyond hope that she would not do something incredibly clumsy such as trip and fall into the water and drown.
But she secretly hoped that if she did fall in the water, he, Asher would willingly jump in after her.
Searching the large ship for Captain Roswell until she finally found him giving orders to a few men on the removal of the rest of the luggage, some of which were hers. She waved towards him as he turned towards her, smiling widely.
“Captain Roswell, good news, her brother is here but we must make way to Hunter’s home quickly, she is due at any moment, would you please have my luggage delivered to his waiting carriage?”
Captain Roswell nodded, giving the orders to his men while three lugged her large cases upon their shoulders, away towards the waiting Asher.
“Come, Ms. Barrett, I shall escort you to the waiting carriage,” he said, taking her arm in his and escorting her back off his ship, while making small talk as to the unusually
dry weather London was receiving.
The trunks were already tied to the back of Asher’s carriage, an understated but rich, black score with four large, dapper gray horses and three outriders. He waited impatiently for Love, his arms crossed and brooding feline eyes staring towards her direction before finally seeing her…and the captain, leaving the ship. Her hair was now tidy upon her head, covered with a bonnet that he wanted to yank off. Walking away from the carriage, he met them, once their feet had touched solid ground.
“Mr. Davis?” The captain asked, as Asher nodded, shaking hands.
In another situation he perhaps would have liked this captain, his large, direct eyes and formidable air, but not now, not when the captain was touching Angel, even though the touch was innocent to say the least all the while Angel pulled away, before bestowing a large smile upon the captain.
“Captain Roswell, I must tell you how thankful I am,” Angel said. “Especially during the storm, how you kept me, and everyone else so calm.”
“It was my pleasure, Ms. Barrett, and remember my words, I set sail in exactly six weeks to this date, if you wish for any letters to reach your father, feel free to visit me.”
“Of course, Captain, and thank you once again.”
The captain looked at her, with eyes longing for more than a simple, ‘thank you’ Asher interrupted the two. “Ms. Barrett, we must leave, immediately.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” she replied as she waved one last time towards the captain and then a few other people standing upon the dock.
Following Asher, Angel felt some small trepidation beat within her chance. Even though innocent in the ways of men, she knew what the female and male body were for, and thought of Asher, in that way, before her thoughts skittered from such lustful thoughts and she said a whispered prayer heavenward, asking for forgiveness. But, really, Hunter had mentioned that her brothers were handsome but Angel had not expected one of them to be so handsome. She thought instead of the other four, and hoped that they were less handsome, for however could she keep from continuously blushing in the presence of such beautiful men.
“Did you speak?” Asher asked, obviously overhearing her whispered words to the Lord to make her strong and to keep her lustful eyes contained.
Shaking her head, Angel waited as Asher opened the carriage door for her, and then taking his hand, she paused, feeling his warm heat and felt an answering warmth low within her regions, as she stood frozen, staring at his hands, their two combined, his golden, large and hot, hers small, brown and decidedly female and warm.
“Thank you, sir,” she finally managed to whisper in a hushed voice before climbing inside the carriage.
Asher followed and Angel wished for the first time in her life to be able to read mind’s, to wonder what was occurring behind his feline like eyes, as he closed the door, before turning towards her once more.
Asher was thinking just at that moment that if he closed the curtains, would she put up much of a fight, and upon closing the curtains, would she allow him to kiss her as he so wanted. Her scent wafted to him as she turned her head, clean, pure smelling womanly and seductive while he studied her beneath hooded eyes, seduction upon his mind. The woman really was too beautiful for her own good. He wondered if she was a virgin and if not, how many lovers had she before him. But the thought of her in another man’s arms nearly enraged him and Asher had to get himself under control, even though he didn’t know how he would. He had never reacted so to a woman and he blamed it upon his self-imposed celibacy and the enclosed quarters they would now keep for the next thirty six or so hours. “It shall take close to two days to travel to their estate, Ms. Angel,” he said, enjoying, once again the roll of her name upon his tongue.
“I only pray that we shall arrive before it is time,” Angel commented, feeling as if the space between them was too small, even though the carriage was large, comfortable and well sprung.
“No, matter, ships arrive late,” he said, and this Asher was nice, attentive and cordial. “I am just thankful that you have arrived here, safely, I pray, my lady, that you enjoy your visit to our country.”
Angel felt a shiver of pleasure course through her, when he said, ‘my lady’ she had never been spoken of thus. “I am quite grateful for your attention, sir and I know that I will enjoy my stay, I have recently discovered that I have an aunt in attendance, perhaps you know of her?”
Asher cocked one thick eyebrow. “Perhaps, what is her name?”
“She is my namesake, and I believe my father has said that she is a lady, married to an earl, her surname is Jacobson.”
Asher nodded his head. “I know of the Jacobson family but I have not met her, I believe her marriage to him, was recent was it not? They both widowers.”
“Yes, in fact, you are correct, father tells me she lives not far from Hunter and her husband, which I am grateful of, I wish to visit them as soon as I get settled.”
“As you will, my lady.”
Angel smiled slightly. “But you mustn’t call me, ‘lady’ I have no title, sir.”
Asher settled back into his comfortable seat, eyeing her like a tiger eyes his prey; he smiled slightly, flashing his deep dimples and white teeth. “It is a term…of endearment,” he finally said, nearly whispering the last word.
Angel blushed, again, turning towards the open window and finding herself near speechless. She wanted to ask him to open the window but decided she’d give herself away if she so asked. Instead, she kept her eyes glued on the passing landscape, the many and numerous shops and buildings, trying to gather her wits about her, once more. Deciding that she had no answer for his shocking statement, Angel instead felt as green as possible, and totally naïve, she was not use to any man so blatantly flirting with her and had no idea how to respond, to what she was sure, was gentle teasing.
Nodding, slightly, she pointed towards a passing building, a large clock upon the top. “Sir, what is that orifice?” She asked.
“I shall answer only if you call me Asher.”
Turning sharply, she looked at him, her eyes wide, before once again nodding and then licking her suddenly dry lips, where his eyes dropped. Oh, this man must be the merriest of rakes, Angel thought to herself, men her father had warned her away from during her stay in London. Yet, she could understand why, surely women fell in droves around his booted feet, hoping for a peek of dimple, a flash of clear, cat eyes, the touch of his hand. “Alright…Asher.” And then smiling, she asked. “Well, are you going to tell me what building that was we have long since past?”
“Our tower, Big Ben, it was built…roughly three hundred years ago,” he started.
“Three hundred years…my, there is not one city in America that is that old, unless of course you count the Indian towns, but they are small, tiny by comparison.”
“Indians, I have seen pictures…there are a few here…you look, slightly like them, what is your background?”
She wasn’t use to such blatant curiosity, but still answered him. “My father is white, his family is from Germany and my mother was African.”
“Oh, no wonder…” he said before trailing off.
Love’s curiosity was piqued. “No wonder, what?”
But Asher only smiled, lifting his left lip slightly in a half grin. “No, reason, ms, tell me is there any sights you wish to see, once we get you settled in?”
“I am not sure, I studied books about England as soon as I learned I was to come, there are the Druid ruins, and the tower of London and its’ famous Market square…and the theater,”
“You wish to take in a show?” He asked.
“Oh, yes…father has taken me a few times in Boston but he as most people do tells me there is nothing compared to a London stage and production.”
“He is quite right, even though, we like all countries, having our share of disreputable theaters.”
“Oh, I am sure, but in all this the thing foremost upon my mind is getting to Hunter as quickly as possible, I have missed
her dreadfully in the past years.”
Asher nodded, she was so expressive, so open, something that Asher knew was to be a rarity indeed in most, if not all women. But she too was probably like most women; he had no expectations as to her behavior, no questions as to the thought of her lack of innocence. He could not wait to bed her, but the anticipation was also in the waiting. “As she has missed you, too,” he returned. “From her words, herself, she tells us, how you helped her escape, how you were her only friend during her…trial, our family is indebted to you, forever, and my lady.”
Angel tried waving his words away, nodding slightly. “Those times, they weren’t all bad…we had each other, sir, I mean Asher. I always knew, deep in my heart, that Hunter was strong, that she would one day escape.”
“She could not have without you.”
“Oh, yes, she is too strong, she knew there was something out there, waiting for her and he….his hold upon her would be relinquished. I was there, to help, to listen and to comfort, we formed a bond that can never be shaken, I believe Hunter is my sister, in spirit and she has said more than once that I am hers. She deserves as much happiness as possible, more than anyone I know.”
Asher could not find fault with her words, except her seemingly small role in Hunter’s life. “You helped save her, Angel, don’t ever lessen your role upon and in Hunter’s life. It was you, Gabriel, her husband tells us, who told him of her and how you wanted more than anything for Gabe to take her away. Hunter told me in no uncertain words that if it were not for you she would have died a long, long time ago, but your will and your spirit made her want to risk everything, in honor of everything that you had done for her.”
Angel could do nothing, staring at her hands blindly as tears formed in her eyes. She rarely cried unless she was moved more than words, the last time she had cried had been upon finding her father. And before that, had been the time when she thought Hunter would die after Laird had beaten her brutally.
She felt Asher move, before her, sitting directly in front of her, even though she kept her eyes upon her tightly clasped hands, she saw his move on top of her hands, hold hers gently, while one hand cupped her chin, lifting it to meet his eyes. “The time for tears is now over, my lady, it is a time for celebration, you are to be reunited with your dearest friend and my sister upon the eve of her first child, why then, the tears?” He asked gently.
Angel of Ash Page 4