Embracing Ashberry Read Online Free Page A

white silk to temper the effect,
fashionably cut but without the flounces and embroidery that
Charlotte and Caroline favored. Vivid white velvet ribbon was her
only complement, lacing through her hair and down her back.
Ashberry decided immediately she needed nothing else and was
surreptitiously glad she followed the style of most young women of
their class, favoring her natural hair color over the powdered
curls her mother and his aunt habitually wore.
     
    * * * *
     
    So intent was the lord on Ellie that he almost
missed a greeting from his future brother-in-law. “My lord,” the
younger man nodded crisply, “Good evening.”
    “Of course, Whitney,” the marquess murmured after a
pause he hoped the younger man would mark up to a new peculiar
fashion. Ashberry had long since stopped the boy—Ashberry couldn’t
help thinking of him as a boy even though Edward was only five
years his junior—he had long since stopped the boy from executing
the nonsensical, nervous bow he had attempted when the two were
first introduced. It was, Lord Whitney had explained with a small
twitch to his lips, an unfortunate continental habit his son had
acquired.
    The marquess greeted the two younger brothers as his
aunt and sister entered the fray, immediately charming all three
young men. Ashberry was left to heartily shake the hand of the
elder Whitney before kissing the back of the baroness’ glove. “It
is a delight to see you again, my lady,” he murmured, catching a
glimpse of his interest, who had quite failed to sneak past him
unnoticed and into the salon.
    The marquess summoned every ounce of charm he could
muster before the girl’s two parents. “And Miss Whitney,” he
smiled, nodding smoothly and taking the nervous hand she proffered
after a half second. He held it firmly for just an instant before
lifting it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss through her
glove. He freed her hand only when he felt her fingers tremble. “It
is my pleasure to see you here at Charlotte’s little dinner.”
    Ashberry knew instinctively that the girl wasn’t
looking him in the eye, but he said nothing. Clearly, the front
hall was no place to conduct a courtship. Instead, he turned to
take her mother’s arm. “Lady Whitney, if you will permit me to
escort you into the salon?”
    Ellie nearly sighed aloud when he released her hand.
She bit back the noise, taking a deep breath only after her father
took her by the arm. As she had told her mother after their dinner
party two weeks earlier, the marquess did not remind her of the man
who haunted her nightmares, but his size alone was intimidating and
she found it difficult not to stutter when he was near.
    He was so tall that he had nearly lost his head in
the doorways of the Whitney house. Here, though, the high ceilings
seemed built to fit him. Ellie wondered nervously if every Trinity
man was as tall, but then answered her unspoken query—she had met
the marquess’ younger brothers and though they were of good height,
none had the stature of the eldest.
    Mentally, she sighed and put thoughts of the lord
from her mind, though she and her father followed Ashberry and
Ellie’s mother into the salon, leaving Charlotte and all the young
men to trail behind. She was sure he was just being polite in the
popular way of
tonnish
gentlemen, since Charlotte would
soon be her sister-in-law. There was, after all, no reason for him
to think of her as a fashionable eligible.
    Ellie was startled again a few minutes later when
Charlotte gave the word that dinner was ready. “Edward, please take
your mama in,” she requested of Ellie’s brother. Confidently, she
took Lord Whitney’s arm, her own intentions clear. Before Ellie was
quite ready, she found her hand placed gently on the marquess’ coat
sleeve.
    He purposefully moved slowly, allowing the others to
precede him and Ellie’s stomach fluttered when she saw a
significant look pass between the marquess and Charlotte’s aunt,
who discreetly