Shaking her head, Angel bit her lip, the tears standing upon the crevice of her eyes before falling over to her cheeks, she felt dumb and young, before Asher. “I know, you are right, sir, it is a time for laughter.”
“And so, shall you grace me with your laughter, something of which I had yet to hear and am curious as to the sound.”
Asher made her smile, and she did, her tears slowing as he handed her a small handkerchief. “Oh, I must be incredibly silly to you, sir,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“No, far from it.”
Nodding she could only take him for his word before Asher began regaling her with tales of London life, an innocent more censored version for a young, woman’s ears and in no time, Asher had Angel forget her tears, as she tried in vain to stifle her laughter, before it erupted from her softly, a short chuckle at first which became deeper laughter as she held her stomach.
And Asher knew that her laughter would be just as he thought, warm, husky and open, and he watched her, wanting to make her laugh and smile for as long as possible.
“You jest, Asher, surely you do? He ran through the streets?” Angel managed to get out after she thought she would laugh herself silly.
“Yes, but I have not told you the worse part,” he commented a slightly devilish look in his eyes.
“Oh, what could be worse than that?”
”It is not fit for your ears,” he said.
Angel became even more interested in the story. “Oh, do tell, sir, do tell, I promise, it shall be our little secret.”
Asher had her in the palm of his hands, he leaned closer to her, and she inadvertently leaned to him, until his mouth was close to her ear, brushing the curls upon her temple with his breath. “You promise that it shall be our little secret…Angel,” he said.
Angel’s lips became dry again as her breath eased out of her body in short, little gasps. She inhaled his scent, something so uniquely different; she knew if she inhaled it long enough, she would simply float right off her seat, through the roof of the carriage and straight to Heaven. And the way he said her name, it caused a shiver of pleasure to overtake her entire body. “I promise,” she said, her voice unusually husky.
Asher was so close that if he turned his head just slightly he’d be able to touch those soft, vulnerable lips which kept him engrossed; he didn’t instead leaning back against his seat, watching as she opened her eyes widely before sitting back herself. “Oh, what were you, about to say?” She asked, her brain muddled.
“I was to tell you, something else, about my story.”
”Oh, yes, yes, please, sir, do go on, what happened to the prince?”
“I seemed to leave out the part that as he ran for his life from the cuckolded husband, he quite aptly forgot to take a few choice articles of clothing, namely, his breeches and shirt and jackets. All he had in his hands were his boots and delicately plumed hat.”
Angel’s eyes widened, her mouth opened in shock before a startled laugh erupted from her mouth, she smacked one hand over it, still staring at him, before pulling her hand down to hesitantly ask, “You jest! Sir, you jest!” She whispered horrified, before an image of the overweight prince came to mind and a decidedly large and pale behind was seen running through the streets of London. She couldn’t stop the laughter even if she wanted to, feeling ashamed at laughing at such a horrible predicament the prince had gotten himself into but unable to refrain from chuckling royally. “Oh, I do not believe you, Asher, that is utterly horrid,” she exclaimed, still chuckling softly after long moments.
“I would never, jest, and about such a view, never, my lady, you wound me. I saw it myself, personally and thought at first, I was viewing a bleached donkey, skittering madly through the streets with a large, purple hat upon his wig of blond curls. But alas, it was worse than I feared and I stopped, horrified, like so many others, nearly clipping my horse into a passing carriage which nearly ran over a street vendor which nearly hit a visiting duke’s carriage from France. It was not a sight I would ever wish to set my eyes upon again, my lady.”
They both laughed this time as Asher regaled her on other tales of London’s society and its’ high and lofty peers whom he brought down to the level at which he knew they all were. No better than anyone else. The time seemed to fly by as the couple regaled each other of stories of their pasts, happy memories, Angel more often than not listening with rapt attention as Asher would tell her of a young Hunter, with his brothers and the many hours of fun they had upon the countryside.
It was with little wonder that the hours passed amazingly fast, for both of the couple until they were forced to stop, the hour late, at an inn Asher knew of and had visited often upon the road.
“We shall stop here, for the night, so the horses may rest, we must arise before dawn, tomorrow morning, if we wish to be there by evening tide.”
“Oh, yes,” Angel said absentmindedly, staring at the picturesque country inn with its’ cobble stoned entryway. “I cannot believe it is evening time, already, Asher. I will readily admit that your company made the hours fly by. What time is it, perchance?”
Asher took out his watch, looking at it. “Just after eleven, the kitchen I am sure is closed, however I will see what I can rustle up and have it sent to your room, is that agreeable?” He asked, opening the door of the carriage and dropping the step box, before reaching out, grasping her small waist to help her down.
He let his fingers trail away from her warm body, regretfully, knowing she felt as he did, achingly aware of each other, before turning, the innkeeper, Oswald, in his night clothes, met them outside.
“Mr. Davis, sir, hello! Hello! And who is this, you have with you?” The innkeeper asked impishly a large smile beneath his gray mustache.
“This is Ms. Barrett, a dear and close friend of the Lady Barony, whom is visiting from America; would you perhaps have a spare bedroom or two and food for my company?”
“America! Why isn’t that marvelous!” He cried out, his lantern hitting Angel as he looked with wide eyes at her exotic face. “Are you an Indian?” He asked excitedly, nearly bobbing up and down, shorter than both Asher and Angel.
“No, sir, I am not,” Angel returned, quite amazed at this comic like character before her.
“Well, no matter, you are still an American! Come! Come! Your men can saddle your horses then come to the kitchens for their meal while I escort the two of you to bedrooms, separately, of course and I shall personally deliver your meal. Or perhaps, even better than that, perchance you would wish to sup in my personal dining room, with my wife and I, as I ask you questions about the Americas. How exciting! Marvelous! Marvelous!”
“Oswald, Ms. Barrett has had a long trip, she has just gotten off a boat this very afternoon and we have traveled many hours with nary a respite.”
But it was Angel who interrupted. “Oh, Mr. Davis, please, I am not in the least bit tired, kind sir. I would be delighted to share a light repast with Mr. Oswald and his wife who have seen fit to open their doors to us, so late in the evening.”
Asher was about to argue further, but one look at Angel’s large, luminescent eyes and his thoughts faltered. Nodding, hesitantly, he turned towards the expectant Oswald. “Alright, then, Oswald, but first, have water sent up to the lady’s room, so that she can refresh herself.”
Oswald nodded, near giggling while he led them through the large living area then dining area of his inn. “Not many roomies, tonight, sir, just two, so we have enough bedrooms for all of your men, please, please, come, I will show the lady her room and then yours, the lady will be safe, right next to my wife’s and I room, while you gentleman may take the floor, below, sir. Here, here,” he cried, bobbing up excitedly and grandly flourishing throughout the small and clean room. “Will this do, ms? Oh, wait until I tell my wife,” he pointed towards a small basin. “We have a new device, sir, my lady, water that comes from the walls, amazing! You simply turn this spigot, and water falls into the basin. Amazing!” He nearly giggled ag
ain, before bobbing up and down, before ushering he and Asher out of Angel’s room. “Shall we see you in perhaps, twenty minutes; I shall have your trunks sent up immediately.”
“Oh, sir, just one trunk, the black one with the red trimming will be fine, for tonight, thank you so very much Mr. Oswald.”
Oswald bobbed up and down happily as Angel turned her eyes to Asher, who stood beside the small man, imposing, and darkly handsome, staring at her with a message in his eyes, Angel skittered away from and felt embarrassed that she stood so close to the small bed. Walking next to the mirror, she closed the curtains, lighting more candles in the small room. They finally left, Oswald promising to bring her luggage as Angel gratefully waved them goodbye and closed and locked the door behind them.
She sagged against the wall, her heart beating excitedly in her chest. “Oh, that man!” She exclaimed excitedly, her thoughts upon Asher and his devilishly good looks. She’d never seen his like before, as her cheeks were flushed, easing the pins from her hair, she shook her cloud of midnight hair out, running her fingers through it absentmindedly as she hummed lightly, before turning on the spigot that poured cool water out. Laughing in delight, she splashed water upon her face and dried off when the door knocked.
Instead of answering and since the room was so small, she opened it, Asher leaning against the doorway, her heavy trunk upon one of his broad shoulders.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, having expected one of his outriders to bring the luggage. “Come in,” she said, backing away slightly while he entered her room, settling the trunk at the edge of her bed on the floor without a single thump. “I thought you would send one of your men, sir.”
“They are eating and quite tired, they have worked hard, we have traveled farther than I thought we would be able to make.”
With his hands free, Asher stood to his full imposing height of six feet and two inches. It was with little wonder that Angel felt the already small room grow incredibly cramped, as she stood beside the water basin, still absentmindedly pulling softly at the locks that rested upon her chest, her hands wanting to keep busy. “Thank you, very much,” she said. “You have been the best of hosts, sir while I know I have set back the time it has taken us to get to Hunter.”
“No, do not say such, you have been a wonderful, travel companion as well, Angel,” he said and Angel enjoyed the way he said her name, his deep voice dropping another level, his tongue drawing out her name, sending slight shivers down her arms.
“Yes, but I am sure you are ready to see your sister, once more and your new niece or nephew.”
“What you say is true.” Asher knew that if he didn’t leave this room at this very second, he was going to throw her onto the small cotton bed and make love to every inch of her body, but yet, he teased himself with his senses, his eyes upon the hand stroking the dark hair upon her breast, his fingers wanting to touch the hair and the breast beneath, his ears wanting to hear her utter just one more syllable, his lips wanted to taste her skin. And so he stayed, staring at her, before his feet inexplicably drew him closer to her soft and waiting form as he stood within inches of her shivering body.
She spoke not one word, instead staring at him with her large, slanted eyes, her mouth slightly parted and breathing heavy. She touched her tongue, quickly to her lips, wetting them and Asher groaned, deeply, his fingers reaching up; to pull her closer to him, wrap himself in her, when a voice interrupted the two.
“My lady, your supper is waiting!” It exclaimed, the happy Oswald interrupting the couple with nary a thought as to what had been about to take place. “Oh, and good thing you are also here, a trip I shall not have to make, Mr. Davis. Come, supper is ready and my wife waits,” he said, waiting for the two to follow him.
Angel felt as if she had jumped a mile in the air when she heard Oswald’s loud, animated voice, she didn’t know whether to curse or say thank you that he had interrupted the two. Angel felt like cursing. She had wanted more than anything for Asher to kiss her, to feel his warm, soft supple lips upon hers. She had to get under control.
“Oh, yes, thank you, Mr. Oswald,” Angel said before realizing she had as of yet to freshen up. Never the mind, she hurriedly pulled her hair back in its’ bun, feeling Asher’s eyes upon her the entire time, even though she’d turned her back to him to peer into the small hanging mirror above the basin.
It felt intensely personal, him seeing her do something as normal as pin her hair and Angel felt her hands shake slightly, before dropping them hurriedly and smoothing her skirt down. “I am ready,” she replied turning towards Asher who held out his elbow for her, which she took, hands still trembling slightly as she fit against his body, her head barely reaching the top of his shoulder.
“Then let us make way,” Asher said, staring down at her beautiful hair, a tumultuous riot of curls which she’d tried to tame, but even now, he saw soft tendrils about her face, which had escaped her bun and felt the inexplicable urge to pull the pins out, and see her hair once more waving down her back, he wanted to bury his hands into her hair, her everything and shook his head as he escorted the two behind Oswald’s chubby back and to his waiting wife.
“Oh, my goodness,” were the first words that met Angel, as an equally small woman met them at the door of Oswald’s private dining room. “Hello, Mr. Davis, a pleasure, and this must be Ms. Barrett, which Oswald has filled my ears with, do come in, and such a beautiful young woman and from America!” She exclaimed, in a near titter as she hopped about the room, making sure everything was laid out neatly.
Asher rolled his eyes, only for Angel to see, who smiled back, before he pulled out a chair for her, seating her, his hands lingering upon the back of her seat and Angel’s breath once more seemed to have lost her.
He sat down, next to her, while Oswald and his wife, sat across from them, the table laden with enough food to feed a small army. After grace was said, the ravenous pair immediately, but politely dug into the food, it having been hours for both of them since they’d last eaten.
And through all of this, Oswald and Beatrice peppered Angel with questions about America. The Indians, the wild frontier, the strange animals, the different cities and so on.
The conversation continued well near to twelve midnight as Angel was unexpectedly having a marvelous time painting a picture of her home for these kind strangers. And during that time, she felt Asher’s eyes upon her, Asher so close to her that if she simply reached out, her hand would touch his. He kept silent for most of the conversation, oddly enough, seeming to enjoy hearing everyone else speak before deciding the hour was late enough since they had to be up so very early.
Saying their goodbyes, Beatrice escorted Angel back to her room with the promise that she would awaken her up personally at five the next morning.
Angel nodded, once again closing and locking her door, wondering if perhaps Asher would knock discreetly upon the door once the house had once again settled and knowing that if he did she would willingly open the door and tell him…what? She had no idea, but the situation seemed so romantic she giggled like a young girl before washing for bed, an hour later realizing that the good man was perhaps more than asleep and so, she herself laid upon her bed, images of Asher’s smiling face helping her drift off into a deep and relaxing sleep.
Chapter 3
Asher groaned, loudly, flipping in his narrow bed, once more, gritting his teeth and trying to remove all images of Angel from his minds. However, it was a hard subject to undertake, his mind had lost leave of all its’ senses, and Asher who’d once prided himself on being above his baser needs, could think only of Angel, and her beautiful smile, her strangely exotic eyes and her womanly scent, that even now, he could still smell. He finally sat up, in the nude as he usually went to bed, and wondered if she too, laid abed thusly, or perhaps carried a white, long virginal gown that would cover her from neck to toes. Shaking his head of such thoughts he stared out the window upon the cobble stoned street below, as still as an apparition, recalling
Hunter’s words upon her sharply penned letter to him.
Asher,
Neither Caleb nor David can meet my dearest friend, Angel Barrett, at the dock, Monday, the 21st of July upon the Freedom Rider, Caleb because an accident at one of his factories and David because he is quite sick. The twins as you know are well into the town of Bath and I refuse to have my husband, mother or father, leave my side until the child has been born. So it would seem that you are the only one able to meet my dearest and only friend from America and bring her to me immediately. And Asher, I warn you, treat her with the utmost respect, cherish her as you do me, do not let her hear your caustic tongue and do not, I repeat, do not try to bed her…or you will be banned from my home indefinitely.
Hunter
Asher had crumbled the letter up, growling in annoyance, well, what use he indeed had for the young woman. And now, as Asher stood at the window, staring into nothingness, he regretted his actions immediately. He wasn’t too sure if Hunter was serious about banning him from her home, but Hunter was stubborn to say the least and she would do it, if the slightest tinkling of inappropriate behavior even touched her ears. Asher just hoped she would be enraptured enough by her new child to forget about her sharp commandments she had uttered, instead focusing all of her time and attention upon the new member of her family.
He wanted at once to ignore Angel and make love to her, sighing in annoyance that this beautiful female had to be his sisters best friend and he wasn’t too sure his sister would forgive him once he’d began a relationship with Angel. And so, perhaps, the best thing to do would be to leave her alone, for the sake of her own good and continued peace with his baby sister, who had a temper that rivaled his own.
Angel of Ash Page 5