"Ash, wait, please!" Ellen begged, grasping his arm boldly. "I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Please listen. I don't mean your touch is repellent in any way. All I meant was that you should try to touch me as, well, men like Bridges do. I’m giving you permission. Not in the sense of us being a, um, couple if that’s what you’re afraid of. But in the sense of you trying to help me defend myself against anyone who tries to pester or harm me.
"If I don’t learn how to defend myself, the consequences will be someone like Bridges getting the better of me. I’m no fool. I know what would have happened if he’d got hold of me. If you hadn’t come along to save me." She blushed hotly, but pressed on, "I’m very grateful, and you’re right, Ash. I should never like to be in the position again in which anyone has such power over me."
Ash had stood stiffly when she first began to speak, but at her explanation he thawed slightly. "All right, I accept your apology. But given the circumstances, you will forgive me if I decline. After all, you’re right, my mother or Martin would be a more appropriate teacher, not me."
She blinked. "But I’ve just said-"
"I don’t want to hurt you, and you are correct. I don’t wish to touch you in an improper way which would remind you of Bridges."
"You’re nothing like him," Ellen said vehemently. "I trust you. Please, I’ve said I’m sorry. Can we please begin the lesson, Ash?"
The way she said his name was like a caress along his loins and he sighed. "Very well, but you have no need to fear me. We’ll start off simply. And I won’t touch you on anything other than your arms or hands. So unbutton your coat and we can begin."
He started her off with different grips and she soon grew in confidence and had to admit she was enjoying herself, and at the end of it, asked if he would be willing to teach her again.
He nodded, and all the tension that had been between them seemed to have evaporated like the morning mist.
In addition to the work and lessons, there were shopping trips, bath time with the children, suppers and visits. They tried to meet up with the Howards, but were always turned from the door.
One day Eswara looked through the window and said to Ash, "The curtain twitched."
"It’s all very strange. Apparently he didn’t marry Matilda at all. Perhaps he kidnapped some heiress or—"
"It’s apparently Matthew Dane’s sister, Juliet."
Ash's brows rose. "I didn’t know he had a sister."
His mother nodded. "There is a big age difference, and they were raised separately for some reason."
"Are you sure the girl isn’t in trouble?" Martin asked, looking back. "I mean, Lawrence was a nice enough chap, but there were some murky doings in his family not that long ago by all accounts."
Eswara looked thoughtful, but shook her head. "Juliet, not Matilda. Interesting. But in answer to your question, Jonathan Deveril officiated at their marriage. I’m sure he would not be party to anything nefarious. All I can say is, if she needs our help, we offer it."
All four of them nodded, and then Ellen took Ash's arm and they moved on.
Juliet Howard soon turned up at the doorstep, a lovely young woman with the most unusual violet eyes. She looked depressed, was terrified of her servants, and admitted that though they were newly-wed, her husband had simply left her in the house with no money or provisions whilst he went off on business.
They had her over to tea as often as she dared escape the house through the study window, but otherwise she was a prisoner in her own home.
Ash offered to teach her self-defense, but she was even more skittish about touching even just his hand than Ellen, and refused to continue with the lessons.
They stuffed Juliet full of food when they had the chance, and let her sit right up against the roaring fire. But then she would shake herself out of her reverie, and like a little lost spaniel, wend her way home again alone
Eswara sighed one evening just after she had left. "It’s too sad. An intelligent woman like that trapped in such an awful marriage."
"Yet she loves him. She could leave if she wished, take our help," Martin pointed out.
"Aye, go to her brother down the road in Barton," Ash agreed.
His mother nodded. "Matthew would never turn her away, no matter what the circumstances that forced her to marry in such haste, and repent to such a degree ever since."
"Nay, she won't go," Ellen said with a shake of her head. "She has more pride than that."
"True, but it’s cold comfort when she’s starving. Yet the adversity might be the making of her. And it makes me think about all the poor women stuck in dreadful marriages. So many poor souls who think they’ve met the man of their dreams and it turns out to be a nightmare," Ash said with a look at his mother which Ellen wondered at.
When they were relatively alone at the pianoforte a short time later, she ventured to ask timidly, "Your mother, did she—"
"Yes, I see you picked up on that. The truth is, yes, her first marriage was not ideal, though by no means as bad as Juliet's seem to be."
"What happened to her?"
"She was married at fifteen to save herself from life in a brothel."
Ellen's eyes widened, and she banged her fingers down with a discordant crash. She colored, then tried to resume playing their duet.
"Goodness, what happened. How did she come to be in such a horrid place?" she whispered when his parents were no longer looking at them.
"She was a servant there, set to have her virginity taken for the right price. Do you know some men with awful diseases actually think they can be cured by bedding a virgin or even a pre-pubescent girl?"
"That’s dreadful."
"It is indeed. Some so-called orphanages sell the children, both boys and girls, for carnal purposes. And so few of them get any sort of education that they’re fit for little when they are old enough to start trying to earn a living for themselves. So they have few choices, and often wander into the life anyway, even though they escaped it whilst young."
"It’s dreadful. I can see your reforming zeal burning brightly in your breast. But you can’t solve all the problems in the world. Is it not enough to cure the sick? Comfort the dying? Save the mothers who would probably die giving birth without your help?"
Ash nodded. "It is a lot, but never enough. I have this voice in my head telling me I ought to go to India. And an equally powerful one telling me to stay. You can’t grasp it, but perhaps you can achieve some understanding of what home means to me when you come with us to London. Meet my friends, distant cousins. See our customs."
She asked softly, "Would you not miss England, your family, your friends in Somerset?" She could feel her eyes filling and hoped she was not going to disgrace herself utterly.
"Ah, yes, but only their physical absence. I would still carry them around with me here." He put his hand on his heart, and she timidly placed her own over it.
"Not all of we English people would be so well able to cope with the loss."
Ash was about to take her hand to kiss it when Ranjeet and Jayashri came charging in demanding a story, and the romantic moment was lost.
But as they washed the children later and got ready to put them to bed, Ellen said, "They wouldn’t understand you leaving. They adore you."
He nodded. "And I them. Don't worry. Nothing has to be decided yet. I just wish I could feel fulfilled doing what I do. Yet something is, well, missing. The, um, the passion."
"Perhaps if it were in other parts of your life you would not need it in your work," she suggested boldly, shocked at her own temerity.
Ash gave her one of his long smoldering looks and their hands met in the warm water. "You know, you could be right."
Ranjeet chose that very moment to splash vigorously, and Ash ended up with a face full of soap and water. He laughed in spite of himself. At least the little lad had cooled his ardour, though he could have thought of much better and more pleasurable ways of doing so.
Ellen brought him a towel and bl
otted the moisture from his face. He took her hand and kissed it, and for a brief moment he held her to him, both hands on her waist, her hand to his cheek. Their bodies leaned into one another, and she could feel the reassuring beat of his heart against her own.
"Thank you," he said, stroking back a damp tendril from her brow. "I feel ready to take on the world once more."
"Could we, well, could you and I go into the woods and have you look at me again some time?" Ellen asked shyly.
Ash was sorely tempted, but his self-control was being strained to breaking point already. He was sure if he took her into the woods he was not simply going to look.
"I would like that, in the distant future. But for now we need to get ready for our trip to London the day after tomorrow. And who knows what possibilities that will hold for us both."
"For you perhaps," she said, a trifle piqued.
"And you. I have a wide circle of acquaintance who would be only too pleased to make friends with a woman so lovely as yourself."
"You make me sound like, like Georgina," she accused.
His eyes hardened. "Not at all. There’s nothing wrong with you spreading your wings. A lame duck always flies away in the end."
"Lame duck?" she hissed. "Is that what has had been all about? Feeling sorry for me!?"
"No, nothing like that! More like helping you find your wings," he protested. Ellen knew he never lied, but she wondered why he did not quite meet her gaze.
Ash knew if he looked at her furious blue pools, fringed by the most lustrous long lashes, he would kiss her. And if he started kissing her, he wasn’t so sure he would be able to stop.
They stood staring at each other until a loud wail from his sister Jayashri told them the bath water was getting cold.
"I’m sorry, Ellen. It was inelegantly expressed. I meant no disrespect. I wasn’t being patronising. You are not lame in the least. Young, perhaps. Like a duckling."
"Or the ugly duckling turning into the swan," little Ranjeet suggested.
Despite herself she laughed. "You might be right about that. Thanks to your brother, I do feel more like a swan."
"I’m glad. You’re not angry, then?"
"No. You’re blunt and forthright. I should be used to it by now."
"In that case—" He turned her around, and before she realised what he was doing, he had his arms around her waist, his palms pressing heatedly into her tender belly.
He kissed down her neck hotly, and she arched into his body, which left her in no doubt of his desires.
She grabbed the wall with one hand to steady them both as they soared, and her breath came in great sobbing gulps.
At last he pulled away and apologised in a tremulous voice. "I’m sorry. All the talk of swans got me thinking of your lovely white neck. But I should never— And not in front of the children."
He turned back to the tub, but they were happily playing with the soap and sponges they had dropped when he had kissed her.
"It’s all right. I understand," she breathed. "We will say no more about it. Come, little ones, time to get up and out."
She lifted Jayashri from the tub and told herself that while his embrace had been shocking, she couldn’t wait to share the townhouse with Ash in London.
Chapter Thirteen
Ellen was greatly looking forward to the trip to London for Holi with Ash’s family and friends, but she had not counted on her sister Georgina attempting to interfere with her plans.
As Ellen stood with her valise and portmanteaux open, putting what she would need for each over night stay during the journey in the valise, and the rest in her boxes for London, Georgina came in to tell her about her latest beau , and stopped short.
"Where are you going, Ellen?" she asked in surprise.
"To London to stay with the Duke and Duchess of Ellesmere."
Her eyes lit up. "Well why didn’t you say so? You’ve given me awfully short notice, but I can always buy a few things once I’m up there."
"You’re not coming," Ellen said firmly, amazed at her own audacity.
"What did you say?" Georgina demanded.
"I said you’re not coming. There’s no room for one more person, and you weren’t invited. These are my friends and-"
"Why, who are you travelling with?" she asked in surprise.
"Martin and Eswara," she said, deliberately omitting Ash.
Her sharp blue eyes narrowed. "Martin is my cousin too, and I’m sure the Elthams won’t mind-"
"I mind. I don’t want you to come. You and Martin still aren’t on speaking terms after everything you did with Randall Avenel and Matthew Dane. You’ll only spoil things with your flighty ways and worldly talk."
"How dare you?" Georgina gasped, wondering at the sudden change in her sister.
"I dare because it’s true," Ellen said, not willing to back down an inch. "Even four years ago, you were so selfish you nearly cost Martin the love of his life. I’m not going to have you do the same for me."
Her blue eyes glittered, sizing up her rival. "Well, well, who is the lucky swain? Not Bridges? Good for you. That was fast work. Off to Town with him already?" she drawled. "Don’t worry, pet, I won’t tell a soul. In fact, it would be better if I did go, so no one will be too suspicious."
Ellen shook her head. "No, it wouldn’t, because my trip has nothing to do with Bridges. There’s nothing to be suspicious of because I’ve done nothing wrong. And don’t plan to either, so you can take that knowing smirk off your face."
"Hmm, so the worm turns, If you aren’t in love with Bridges, then who—"
"I’ve been visiting Martin and I’ve begun to see how, well, at peace he is. I want to learn more about Eastern philosophy."
"With all of that meditation and not eating meat? Hah." She gave a dismissive wave. "I certainly don’t aspire to sainthood. Why bother when there's so much pleasure to be had in life?"
"But there’s more to life than pleasure."
Georgina gave Ellen a withering glance. "If there is, I haven’t found it yet."
"Then I pity you, Sister, for you’ll never be happier or better than you are. And you can’t fool me, you know. I’m sure you aren’t happy."
Georgina scowled furiously. "What gives you the right to judge me?"
Ellen said mildly, "I’m not judging, just observing. We’ve both been devastated by the Neville brothers. You because Oliver gave you a taste for something you can’t help but want. Me a taste of something I can’t help but fear.
"But I’m never going to get over my fear if I don’t try to live in the world a bit more, with decent, sensible people. Not the rakes and rattles with whom you consort."
Georgina looked at her curiously. "I should very much like to know who on earth you’ve been-"
"Why does it always have to be a man? Why can’t a woman decide things for herself?"
"Because men are in control. That's the way of the world," Georgina replied in a bored tone. "We can’t vote or propose marriage or have careers."
"The first and third maybe not, at this point in the history of the world, but why not the second?"
Her racy sister actually looked scandalised. "My dear, it simply isn’t done."
"And yet you must make it known that you are, er, available to interested parties, do you not?"
She quirked one brow archly. "Yes, but one must always make them think they are doing the running. Then they eventually catch you. Otherwise you get called the most unpleasant names."
"But do men?"
"Pardon?"
"Get called unpleasant names, I mean. Think about it. Rake, stud, stallion, cock of the walk. We admire them for sowing their wild oats, but women are blamed?
"Well, who are they suppose to sow them with? Only fallen women? And we decent women get the dregs, the chaff at the bottom of the basket? After they are done having their fun and want to settle down and have a family? And some of them don’t settle at all, but keep mistresses?"
Georgina stared at her open-mou
thed. "My, you really have had your head turned! Who on earth have you been speaking with? Some blue-stocking who can no doubt quote from Wollstonecraft as if it were the Holy Bible."
Ellen shook her head. "I am more than capable of thinking for myself. I’m sorry, Georgina, but I just don’t see why you’re throwing yourself away on a group of men who would turn their backs on you in an instant if you ever found yourself with child."
Georgina stiffened, but said, "I’ve been very careful about that. Cousin Eswara has been a veritable font of useful information and supplies, never fear."
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