His Lady Ashlynn Read online

  As quickly as the thrashing had begun it stopped. She collapsed and felt the lines of fire across her poor bottom. The thin cotton of her pantalets had done almost nothing to protect her from her father’s disciplining.

  He tugged her shift and skirt back down, stepping away. “I assume you will behave more appropriately. You must learn to quell your urges to let your temper get the better of you.”

  Ashlynn blinked back tears that had threatened but not fallen and gave a small shudder. She took another second before she eased off the desk. The sting was bearable, not pleasant, but would soon pass. The humiliation of being disciplined would take longer to fade.

  She raised her gaze to meet his and nodded. “I do try. Honestly, I do.”

  His shoulders slumping slightly, he walked around the desk and put the ruler back in the top drawer. “You will try harder.”

  “Am I excused now?” She was no longer hungry. All she wanted was to go back up to her room and pout a bit. She’d taken a licking she hadn’t totally deserved, so she believed she had the right to feel sorry for herself for a while.

  “First, I want to state for, hopefully, one final time that the marriage arrangement has been made. The first of the three banns has been read. This will happen.”

  Frustration curled through her. “I do not love him. I love—”

  “You do not love Gerald Smythe! You felt only a young woman’s attraction to him.” He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out. “You will grow to love the Duke of Ashcroft. I am certain of it. Once you stop this foolish resistance.”

  Before she could protest, he announced, “Lady Burlington and her dressmaker will be here tomorrow to begin work on your wedding dress. They would have come this afternoon, but I told them to wait until then because you were in disgrace today.”

  In disgrace. Yes, she supposed that she was after her outrageous behavior in front of the ton last evening. And, of course, because he had intended to discipline her for it. Lady Burlington probably suspected as much, but Ashlynn was almost certain he hadn’t actually said that to her.

  She straightened, seething at his persistent determination to ignore her wishes. There was no sense arguing anymore about this with him. She would have to find a way out of this somehow. She left the room without saying another word.

  ***

  “The brat has had another setdown from father,” Braden stated in amusement. “She really does know how to get on his bad side.”

  Blaine studied his closest friend as they sat across a small table in White’s. The room was filled with men drinking, talking and amusing themselves playing cards and parlor games. He tuned everyone out and considered what his friend had shared with him. So Edmond had disciplined her today? He had expected as much. Even if he had acted inappropriately, she should have done no more than verbally chastise him. The slap had not hurt in the least and he deserved it, but it couldn’t be tolerated in front of others. He probably should have spanked her when they’d been alone, just as she had thought he intended to do.

  “You are going to have your hands full with her. Certainly more than you would have if you’d chosen to marry Abigail.” Braden glanced at the cards in his hands. “Are you positive you made the right decision?”

  “No question about it.” He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his days with such a seemingly meek woman as Abigail. Seemingly being a key word here. He had a feeling that she was putting on an act for them all, but why he didn’t know. Still, his body wasn’t drawn to her at all. He only lusted after Ashlynn. He would have Ashlynn. “I can handle her. In fact, I enjoy the way she challenges me at every turn. Neither of my first two wives ever did, in any manner.”

  Braden looked sympathetic for a second before he grinned and made his play, winning the hand. “I hear the dressmaker is coming with Lady Burlington tomorrow. It will be interesting to see how that goes. Considering that the brat wants nothing to do with this wedding.”

  Blaine frowned at losing the hand of whist. He hadn’t been paying enough attention, but his thoughts were full of his stubborn betrothed, the wedding preparations, and matters with a couple of his estates that he needed to deal with. “She might be upset with having been more or less forced into this marriage, but she wants me.” He glanced up and smiled knowingly.

  “I don’t need to call you out for compromising my sister before the wedding, do I?” Braden turned serious and tossed down his cards. “Maybe beat your too pretty face in the ring.”

  “You have never bested me at fighting, nor will you.” He threw his cards down as well, no longer interested in playing whist. “And, no, I have not compromised Ashlynn. Not that she doesn’t tempt me to do so.”

  He pushed back his chair and stood. It was time to change the subject. He had no intention of letting his friend know that he had already been what many would consider far too familiar with her. He had spanked her, which would be thought not appropriate under the circumstances of their not being married. And he had kissed her…and she had kissed him back. Then last night they had both acted in quite ardent ways, standing much too closely, both clearly aware of the other’s aroused interest. No, Braden did not need to know any of that. Besides, before long they would be man and wife.

  “I will be going out of the city for a few days, perhaps even a week. My estate manager in Hampshire has matters that must be discussed in person.” He sighed at his decision to attend to business matters instead of staying here to keep a close eye on Ashlynn. “I might need to travel to my estate in Oxfordshire as well.”

  “You think it wise to leave now?” Braden eased his chair back and raised an eyebrow. “I would imagine as soon as my sister hears you’re gone she will attempt to find a way to leave London, too.” His expression showed concern. “Especially with both Daniel and father having left this afternoon for a trip to Devonshire.”

  Blaine scowled at that news. “Is there a problem?” Maybe with both Daniel and Edmond gone he should reconsider his plans.

  Standing, Braden shook his head. “Not really. Father wanted to take care of a small matter of business at his estate. Mainly they were going to fetch Catherine so she can attend the wedding.” He gave a reassuring smile. “Do not worry, my friend. I will keep a close eye on your intended.”

  Oddly, Blaine didn’t feel that reassured.

  ***

  Ashlynn had lost her patience with the seamstress, Lady Burlington, and certainly with Abigail. Her sister had roused her from bed with the first rays of dawn. In spite of her resistance, she had let Abigail hurry her down to an early breakfast because the dressmaker and Lady Burlington were to arrive just after nine o’clock. Nearly two torturous hours ago.

  As yet another pin poked her during the process of making adjustments to the muslin pattern being created, she yelped. “Surely you have this worked out by now!”

  The middle-aged, harried-looking seamstress looked apologetically at her. “I…I’m sorry, Lady Remington.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Abigail stood next to the woman and frowned in disapproval. “My sister can’t seem to stand still for more than a second.”

  “It would help if you could—” Lady Burlington began, her own patience fading.

  “We are done here!” Ashlynn interrupted, stepping away from the seamstress. “Do your best with the measurements you already have. I do not care in the least how perfect the dress fits.”

  She watched Lady Burlington’s mouth pinch, saw the flash of annoyance in her eyes. It was clear that the older woman would like to take her to task for poor behavior. If her father were here, no doubt she would report it to him and then he… Fortunately for her—in particular for her bottom—he and Daniel had left yesterday to go bring Catherine back for the “joyous event” to come. Her wedding. Hardly joyous.

  Lady Burlington got her temper under control and smiled kindly at the seamstress as she moved back. “I am quite sure you have adequate information at this point to begin the wedding dress.” She looked at Ashl
ynn and back to the nervous woman. “We can have a first try-on session in a week.”

  “Yes, Your Lady,” the seamstress said eagerly and then began gathering up her measuring tapes and box of pins.

  Her expression sour, Abigail reached out to help Ashlynn out of the partially pinned-together muslin pattern. “Your attitude is really horrid,” she muttered under her breath. “Quite unacceptable.”

  “It is the best it can be under these circumstances.” Ashlynn walked toward her bed and picked up the pale yellow day gown she had instructed the maid to lay out for her earlier. It was a favorite of hers, a tad out of style for current fashions here in London, but she didn’t care. When she needed comforting, this was the dress she chose to wear. Her mother had made it for her.

  She slipped it on, and then as it settled into place, Lady Burlington moved behind her to button the back. Not wanting help but knowing she needed it, Ashlynn lifted her long braid out of the way. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  While her dress was being buttoned, Abigail left the room with the seamstress. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. She didn’t know what to say and knew she had behaved badly. She wasn’t proud of herself, but she just couldn’t get out of this sadness she had fallen into. Everything appeared to be moving so quickly to change her life forever.

  Lady Burlington gently touched her shoulder as she finished. “I truly wish you weren’t so unhappy about this upcoming marriage. I don’t like to see you upset, nor does your family. Especially your father.”

  She snorted in a very unladylike manner. “My father doesn’t care at all about my feelings. He has made that very clear.” She heard the bitterness in her tone, was distressed by it. She loved him and hated being such a disappointment to him. Yet time and again she disappointed him.

  “Your father loves you dearly, anyone can see that. He wants you settled down with a man he knows and respects, a man who has assured him that he is already in love with you.” When Ashlynn would have interrupted, she held up a slender hand to stop her. “I realize you do not think my nephew can possibly have fallen in love with you in such short a time. But I believe he has. It took him by surprise, too.”

  Ashlynn felt a strange fluttering in her abdomen, a quickening of her heartbeat. That only happened in fairytales. A darkly handsome man such as him, rich and powerful, and desired by many of the single women of the ton couldn’t truly have fallen in love with someone like her. A “crass American” as she’d been called. One of the Duke of Claymore’s daughters from the English outcast woman who had turned into his American mistress. Not worthy of the Duke of Ashcroft. Not worthy…

  Tears threatened to spill and she ruthlessly refused to allow that to happen. The people here—his family, his friends, his peers—would never really accept her. She didn’t want to be a burden to him, someone he had to constantly apologize for, someone he had to demand that others accept. With Gerald it would never be a problem.

  A tear did slip down her cheek. Gerald was not who she had come to strongly like…and that was as far as she was willing to admit about her feelings for Blaine. Gerald was not the man who made her heart race when he was near or when he dared to touch her. He was not the man she could challenge and be challenged back by. That stubborn, passionate man was Blaine. But she could not marry him. She could not make the rest of his life miserable because she wasn’t the right wife for him. She could not allow her longing for him to grow stronger until she could not stop this disaster from happening.

  She sniffed back more tears and faced the concerned-looking older woman. “I would like to be alone now. I have a terrible headache.” It was a lie, but she needed time to think of a way out of this marriage.

  ***

  The trip to his estates had taken longer than Blaine would have liked. He had been gone a full week and he had spent most of that time thinking and worrying about Ashlynn. His estate managers had no doubt been as frustrated with him for not paying them adequate attention as he had been for having to deal with business right now. He had left his coach and driver in Oxfordshire, instead riding one of his fastest stallions back to London. He had stopped at a coach station last night but hadn’t been able to eat. His stomach had been too knotted with an odd sense of foreboding. Nor had he been able to sleep.

  So here he was riding through the pouring rain just after dawn, heading for Braden’s town house instead of his own. Something in his gut told him to stop here first. Something was wrong.

  He rode to the coach house behind the home and a stable boy rushed out to meet him, obviously having heard his arrival. Satisfied his horse would be taken care of he hurried around to the front door. He was soaked clear through and shouldn’t be calling on his friend like this. Yet he couldn’t leave.

  He waited, rain continuing to pound down on him, until the obviously hastily dressed butler answered the door. “Lady Ashlynn…”

  The name had barely left his mouth before Braden hurried up behind the butler. He motioned Blaine inside and quickly closed the door behind him. The butler walked away.

  “She has run away.”

  Blaine gaped at him, forgetting how miserable he felt standing there sopping wet. “What did you say?” He couldn’t have heard his friend right.

  Braden looked even worse than he felt. “I got home only a short while ago.” He blushed and admitted guiltily, “I spent the night with my mistress. But something made me leave her bed early and I came home.”

  “How do you know she has run away?” Blaine was impatient with the storytelling.

  “Before seeking my bed, I decided to check on my sisters. Just a strange feeling I had.” He blew out a heavy breath of frustration. “Abigail is in her room sleeping.” He looked straight at Blaine. “But Ashlynn’s bed hasn’t been slept in. She left a note…for you.”

  Braden thrust out a piece of parchment and Blaine took it with shaking hands. He couldn’t breathe as he read the brief message his betrothed had left. I can’t marry you. You deserve a better wife than I could ever be to you. Please do not look for me. Ashlynn

  He crushed the paper, held it in his fist, and ground his teeth. Braden stood quietly until he regained enough control to bite out, “It’s done then. The wedding is off.”

  “You’re serious?” Braden asked incredulously. Then he scowled and looked ready to grab Blaine, to beat him in anger.

  “A man can only take so much rejection.” Heart sick and long past weary from his long, hard ride through the rain, he turned and walked back out the door.

  “Do not even think to darken my door again if you leave now,” Braden growled at him. “If you can walk away so easily, then make it permanent.”

  He stopped to face his furious looking friend. “What would you have me do? She has never wanted this marriage and now she has gone to extremes to keep it from happening.”

  “You claimed to love her, which was clearly a lie.”

  “I do love Ashlynn.” His shoulders slumped and he shuddered as the rain beat down on him again. “I love her enough to let her go.”

  Chapter Five

  “Oh, m’lady, I am not sure about this at all.” The young maid, Regina, who had reluctantly agreed to come with Ashlynn in the very late hours of last night, looked pale as a ghost. She glanced about the small cabin on The Sea Pearl they had finally settled into, trembling, clearly panicking.

  Ashlynn was having more than a few doubts herself at the moment, but she refused to let on about them. Everything they had done so far to get here had been a challenge. Fortunately Braden and Abigail had gone to a ball that she had managed to excuse herself from attending. They had hurriedly packed only a pair of valises each, she telling Regina that they would send back for trunks with the rest of their clothing after they had made arrangements for sailing. Which was a tiny bit of a lie on her part. She knew that they would have to make do with whatever they had brought with them and then purchase new clothes upon their arrival in Virginia. And then it had taken a nerve-wrackin
g couple of hours to buy passage on one of the three ships preparing to set sail in the morning. She’d had to fabricate a lie then, too, traveling as a new widow desperate to return to American and her family there. With her American accent that part hadn’t been hard to believe and, fortunately, the sales agent hadn’t questioned her further about traveling with only her equally young maid. All in all, she was exhausted, worried as well.

  “I don’t like leaving my friends behind. I also would have liked to speak with Lord Braden before leaving.” Regina worried her lower lip and shook her head in dismay.

  She forced a reassuring smile and sat on the side of the narrow bed. “We will be just fine.” She tried to ignore the hardness of the thin mattress that she would be sleeping on for such a long time. And she tried not to feel uneasy about the two of them sharing this small space during their more than a month long trip across the Atlantic. “Think what a wonderful adventure you will have to tell your children about one day.”

  For just a second Regina’s blue eyes reflected eager anticipation. Then those same eyes widened and she gasped, “I can’t do it! I just can’t.”

  Before Ashlynn could attempt to calm the younger woman down, Regina spun toward the open door and raced out of the cabin. “I’m sorry,” she yelled back as she sped away.

  Caught off guard, Ashlynn could only watch in shock. Until she realized that she was truly being abandoned and hurried after the maid. She had to swerve around crewmen escorting other passengers to cabins, around men toting trunks and bags. It wasn’t like she would be traveling as the lone passenger on this ship with the couple dozen sailors and officers who manned the Pearl. Still, she would rather not be without a companion of sorts for the trip.

  As she reached the deck and cast her gaze about in search of Regina, she found her dashing down the gangway. The woman was too far away to yell at and, in truth, she doubted she would have been heard above the din of men shouting instructions to one another, the scrapping of crates being moved about on the deck, and all the other noise down on the dock. Besides, she didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself. She would not feel comfortable until they were at sea. She prayed the ship would be setting sail soon, as she’d been told they would. She wanted as much time and distance between she and London as possible.