Embracing Ashberry by Serenity Everton

scandal that
will disgrace you. I am going to marry your daughter, with or
without your consent. She is of age so I do not need your
permission and I certainly have no need of her money. I could carry
her out of your house right now and take her to any of the bishops
and she would be my wife before nightfall. Within two days time, I
would guarantee that everyone in London would know that you refused
to stand by your daughter—as I am a marquess and the marriage
obviously a good one for a baron’s daughter not even presented at
Court, they would assume you did not consent to the match because
you were in hock and couldn’t settle a guinea on her. They might
think things even worse.”
    He cleared his throat, eyes still on Ellie’s
wide ones, his voice calm and reasonable even as he described his
alternative. “The attention to Edward and Charlotte would be nearly
unmanageable. Edward, and perhaps even his brothers, would be
forced to distance themselves from you and Lady Whitney and stand
by your daughter and I to salvage your family’s reputation.” He
cupped Ellie’s face in his hands and his mouth tightened, “Or you
can do the honorable thing by her and give your daughter a wedding
that all of England will celebrate as the romance of the year.”
    Whitney knew he was defeated. He had no
doubt that the marquess was earnest in his threat. If Ashberry
carried it out, as he very well could, Whitney would lose face at
Westminster, not to mention in the society pages and even his
clubs. He shuddered inwardly to think of the impact it would have
but he resolved suddenly that someday Ashberry would feel his
revenge. Some time, some how, if for no other reason than forcing
the match on him against his will.
    His face grim, he nodded to his wife, his
words short. “If that’s the way it’s to be, my lady, you will
manage this fiasco—and when she comes running home to us, you will
be responsible for cleaning up the shambles she leaves behind.” He
left without a word, and without a second look at his daughter.
    Lady Whitney drew a deep breath. “Ashberry,
you will be my favorite son-in-law,” she promised.
    The marquess smiled, once again drawing
Ellie against his side and tracing one ear with his index finger.
“My good lady, I will be your only son-in-law.”
     

 
    FIVE
     
    Ellie’s wedding day dawned clear and bright.
She sighed as she stood at her window, staring into the garden.
“They say,” she told the maid, “That it is a good omen to have rain
on your wedding day.”
    The maid harrumphed. “Sounds like an
excellent way to ruin your pretty gown, miss,” she answered quietly
before straightening the bed. Ellie turned and looked around the
chamber.
    It was a comfortable room, but didn’t seem
like her home anymore. All of her personal things had already been
packed and moved to Ashberry House and those that were left seemed
unimportant now, childish even. Her mother’s maid would pack them
and send them to her in the coming days.
    Ellie wondered idly if she’d even bother to
unpack them but reminded herself it would be silly to do so.
Ashberry wished to leave for Cumbria on the tenth day of their
marriage, so they would arrive at Ashberry Park during the second
week in January. Four days of carriage travel over roads that were
rougher the further north they traveled, with three nights along
the road.
    Ellie smiled, for the first would be at
Harlan Chase, the estate closest to London, and the following two
nights in places where, he claimed, she would have the best room in
the house. His eyes twinkled as he told her, “I will not subject my
new bride, or even a servant, to the vagaries of tavern houses,
Ella. I know you must have slept in a few on the Continent, but we
will stay in more respectable establishments where I have permanent
arrangements with the owners.”
    She wouldn’t come back to this house after
the wedding. The breakfast, the public affair, would be small but
still too large for