Spending Christmas in Hell (Diamonds of London #8)

Chapter Nine

December 21, 1818

The carriage-style clock on Timothy’s bedside table softly chimed the ten o’clock hour in the morning. With a groan, he rolled over to peer at the clock face to confirm what his ears had heard, and he groaned again as an ache in his head made itself known, along with a plethora of sore muscles.

What the hell happened to make him feel like this?

Then memories came back to him in rapid-fire succession to dance through his mind. Last night after dinner, he’d spent time with his wife in the drawing room. They’d had a drink and some laughs, then when she’d asked him to teach him to play cards, she’d somehow tumbled into his arms. After that, things had rapidly grown out of hand as soon as he’d kissed her, and since one thing had led to another, he’d coupled with her, taken her innocence, and if he hadn’t been married to her, it would have been quite the scandal.

Regardless, their union was no longer quite in name only as they’d agreed to, and though he assumed that eventually their marriage would have progressed into the carnal arena, he hadn’t anticipated that it would have been so soon.

Or so satisfying.

Merely thinking about how soft her skin had been or the sounds of pleasure she’d made when he’d fondled her breasts had interest shivering through his shaft. The second he’d speared into her body, there had been an odd sensation of everything being… right, as if he had been always meant to be in that moment, as if he’d been created just for her.

Such gammon. Where did the thought come from? He’d never been one for fancy like that. Yet a grin curled his lips as he stared across the room where the glimmer of anemic sunlight broke through a crack in the draperies. That coupling, though, had been amazing, and watching her fall into release had been an incredible experience.

Afterward, they hadn’t really talked; there had been no need, and soon after that, Ashlynn had fallen asleep. He didn’t blame her, for it had been her first time lying with a man or even being sent flying—or so he assumed since they’d not talked about that either—and he’d been content to hold her for a while. Eventually, he’d set his clothing to rights and did the same to hers, and then he’d carried her upstairs to her room.

It had felt slightly sacred and special undressing her down to her shift in lieu of her maid, but once he’d bundled her into her bed and pulled the bedclothes over her, he’d kissed her forehead. She’d briefly peered up at him and gave him a soft smile, but then had fallen back into slumber, leaving him to sneak out of her room and seek his own.

He remained in bed for a few moments longer before his valet came in and greeted him.

“Good morning, Jansen. I’d like a bath this morning as well as a pot of strong coffee,” he said as he threw back the bedclothes and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

The other man nodded. “I’ll order both, Sir Timothy.”

The valet was a large-framed man who’d come home from the war listless, battling bouts of depression, and without a right eye. The eyepatch over that area made him a bit dashing and his blond looks were reminiscent to perhaps Viking bloodlines. Timothy had met him while out for an early morning ride in Hyde Park shortly after he’d taken the title. Jansen had been in a bad state and ready to end it all, but Timothy had been struck by him and had offered him the position of valet on the spot.

It had taken some convincing and more than a handful of trips to Hyde Park to talk with the ex-military man, but eventually Jansen accepted the position. They’d been friends ever since.

“Thank you.” Timothy stumbled across the room, and once he ducked behind the privacy screen, he did the necessary. Afterward, he’d splashed cold water from the basin on his face to help wake him up, but damn, his head pounded. “Oh, and Jansen, ask for a light breakfast as well. I’m a bit peckish.”

“Absolutely, Sir Timothy.”

By the time Timothy came back into the room, a couple of footmen had brought in a porcelain tub with claw feet. A trio of maids followed with two pitchers of hot water each, which they poured into the tub. Amidst the chaos, the butler came into the room with a tray containing coffee and breakfast.

“Will you require anything else, Sir Timothy?” Hopewell asked with a critical look up and down his person.

“I don’t think so. Thank you,” he told the butler.

Hopewell nodded. “Don’t forget that you are to meet Mr. Ridgeway and his wife at Hyde Park this afternoon.”

He rubbed his temples. “Why, for God’s sake?”

Hopewell frowned. “You had planned an outing to gather greenery for the holiday.”

“Right. I’d forgotten with everything else.”

“Shall I wake Lady Dashfield?”

“No.” He watched the maids come and go with pitchers of water. “Leave her be. She had a late night.” At the last second, he tamped on the urge to grin. Damn, but his head ached. He probably shouldn’t have had that last tumbler of brandy in the drawing room last night.

“Would you also like some willow bark tea, Sir Timothy?”

“What the devil for?” Was the man daft?

While Jansen snickered, Hopewell shrugged. “Lady Dashfield told me to brew some for myself yesterday when I was bedeviled with my own megrim. It worked wonders.”

Timothy gawked at the butler. How the hell had she won over his staff in such a short time? But he was curious. “Fine. Have a pot of that sent up as well. Thank you.” Oddly enough, it was quite comforting to know she was integrating with the staff and caring for them.

As well as him, to an extent.

Would it continue?

After he finished with his toilette, Timothy went to Ashlynn’s room. He knocked at the door and then when bid, went inside.

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was interrupting.” He’s immediately out to sea, for the modiste was there and it was apparently final fitting day for all the clothing his wife had ordered.

“You aren’t. We are nearly finished.” Ashlynn glanced at him. She seemed rather worse for wear, just like he felt, but she seemed giddy. “Isn’t this gown sublime?” Then she turned her attention back to the cheval glass to primp and preen in the green velvet gown with a low bodice.

“It is indeed.” With a tight chest, he lost a piece of his heart to her. It was the first time he’d seen her so animated and… happy since he’d met her. In that moment, he vowed to outfit her in whatever way she wanted.

As he watched the modiste and her seamstresses, some of the walls he’d built within himself continued to crumble. Since his wife had never truly had a real Season, he wanted to take her out into society as much as he could and show her everything she should have had as a young lady. But he would need to talk to Hugh about that, for he hadn’t a clue, and since Hugh had a daughter, perhaps his friend could shed insight.

“I can’t decide which one I like more,” Ashlynn gushed as she twirled in front of the cheval glass, much to the amusement of the seamstresses.

He resisted the urge to press a hand atop his heart. “There is no need to decide now. Not at least until you wear all of them throughout Town.”

“Yes.” She smiled at her reflection. “Perhaps you are right.

A few moments later, the seamstresses finished their work. As they folded the clothing and returned it to boxes, he drew the modiste out into the corridor while Ashlynn dressed with the assistance of her maid.

“Is something amiss, Sir Timothy?”

“No, no. I wished to speak privately with you.” It was a spontaneous decision, but it would make Ashlynn happy. “Could you make my wife a ballgown without her knowledge?”

Surprise sprang into the older woman’s eyes. “Of course. Do you have an idea of what you want?”

“I do.” He nodded as excitement buzzed at the base of his spine. “It must be silver, or very pale blue like moonbeams with sparkle all over the skirting and bodice.” With a shrug, he gave her a wry grin. “It has apparently been a dream of hers since she was a young girl.”

“How lovely!” The modiste’s grin was quite large. “I shall have it made now that we have final measurements and have seen how the other gowns hang on her body.”

“Thank you, and can you have it ready by Christmas Eve? I know it is very short notice, and I ordinarily wouldn’t ask, but…”

She tsked her tongue and laid a hand on his arm. “I was in love once, Sir Timothy. I will have it delivered here by midday on the twenty-fourth, even if I work all night as well as my girls.”

“But I… I don’t want you to do that.”

“It is my gift to you.”

“Ah.” Then he frowned. “I’m not in love.” And it certainly hadn’t been the plan.

The modiste chuckled as if he’d told the funniest joke. As she moved along the corridor, over her shoulder, she said, “We shall see, ducky. We shall see.”

An hour later, Ashlynn sat in the closed carriage on the bench across from her husband. There was a decided chill in the air, so she wrapped the folds of her cloak more firmly about her person. He’d told her they were meeting his friend at Hyde Park to gather holiday greenery. Anticipation coursed through her veins, but honestly, she was excited to go on her first outing as a married woman. That visit to her father’s shop didn’t count, for they hadn’t met with anyone in society.

The scent of him permeated the carriage interior and went straight to her head. If she wasn’t careful, she’d become inebriated by that smell, just as she’d been last night. His presence crowded into all available space in the vehicle until she felt surrounded by him.

“You look quite smart today for this outing,” she said, merely to break the silence, for she enjoyed hearing the timbre of his voice.

Though he wore the same gray greatcoat she’d seen before, she’d had a glimpse of him before he’d donned it. Dove-colored breeches had been tucked into recently shined Hessian- style boots. No doubt his valet had taken him in hand. A charcoal hued waistcoat lay over a fine lawn shirt. Crisp snowy folds of his cravat set off the sapphire jacket of superfine, and the deep color only enhanced his mysterious brown eyes, bringing out the golden flecks. His beaver felt top hat sat at a whimsical angle over his left eye, and it made her smile, for that tiny flare set him apart from other men.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” He flashed her a bit of a grin then returned to peering out one of the windows. “I don’t usually have compliments these days.”

“Not even from your female acquaintances?”

He snorted. “It has been quite some time since I was last with a woman in any capacity.”

“And now you are married, which severally limits the field, hmm?” Yes, it was a pathetic attempt to try and discover if he meant to take a mistress, especially after her awkward attempt in coupling with him last night.

Had he thought her completely inexperienced?

That drew his gaze back to her. “Whoever said I wished for more than one woman?”

Well, it wasn’t a full denial, but it was encouraging. She’d unexpectedly come to depend on him, and after spending time with no one except him, she’d felt closer to him than anyone else she’d ever had in her life. “That is good to know. I assumed after we came together that you would want someone with more… talent in those endeavors.” If her cheeks burned any hotter, she might erupt into flames.

A grin curved those sensual lips of his. “I had no complaints.” Before she could think of anything erudite to say, he continued. “Speaking of which, are you feeling well after last night’s events?”

“Well enough. My head ached a bit upon waking, but after some tea and toast, it is better.” Then she shot him a grin that bordered on wicked. Or at least it felt like it. “Thank you, though, for the inquiry.” Then her grin faded, for she had worries that coiled coldly in her belly. “How will that affect our agreement to a marriage of convenience?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” For the space of a few heartbeats, Timothy paused and regarded her with speculation. “I suppose we shall take it day by day.”

“Fair enough.” Did that mean he wished for another coupling? Did she? Or was what happened last night only the result of impaired judgment or a need to rid herself of that initial curiosity? It was difficult to say. “For what it’s worth, I don’t regret what we did.”

A gleam flared in his eyes. “Neither do I.” Then he winked, and flutters went through her lower belly. “It was quite a lovely way to pass a snowy night, Lady Dashfield.”

“Oh!” Another round of heat went through her cheeks. “I think so as well.”

He nodded. “In the event you wondered, we are headed to Hyde Park to meet Mr. and Mrs. Ridgeway. For greenery gathering. Perhaps find some holly and mistletoe.”

“That sounds lovely.” She couldn’t help the grin that took possession of her lips. “I haven’t done that since coming to England. Papa was always too busy, and I didn’t want to wander about by myself, so I tried to enjoy the decorations during parties and outings.”

“Well, my girl, you are married now and have the run of the house. It is my hope you find entertainment today.”

The use of the endearment sent renewed flutters into her belly. “This is still so new to me. There are times I find myself adrift in my new role, but I welcome it also, for it keep my thoughts focused.”

“So you don’t miss your family so much?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Among other things.” With the addition of a husband and now him as a lover, there was much to think about, even more to decide where she hoped her marriage would go. But those were thoughts she didn’t dare voice aloud, at least not just yet, for she remained mired in confusion by him.

“Fair enough.” Timothy nodded. “I don’t know if this will help, but I didn’t speak those vows to you carelessly nor out of sympathy. I meant every word.”

There was nothing except honesty in his eyes. “Thank you.” Unexpectedly, a piece of her heart flew into his keeping. She hadn’t thought to find common ground with him so soon, nor had she hoped there would be real feelings between them, but here she was, rather agog because this man was so kind, and they were little more than strangers still. “That helps.”

In short order, the carriage arrived at Hyde Park.

They alighted from the vehicle, and though it wasn’t snowing currently, some of the precipitation from the day before lingered on the ground and on the winter-bare branches of the trees. It was particularly lovely on the shrubberies where it created the pattern of lace, though it did make a mess on the streets.

By the time she and Timothy arrived at the meeting place, the Ridgeways were already there. In fact, their arrival interrupted a bout of what seemed to be a rather invested embrace. The pair sprang away from each other with blushes in both their cheeks.

“Ah, Dashfield, I didn’t see you there,” Mr. Ridgeway said as the flush on his neck over his cravat deepened.

“So I can surmise,” her husband said with subtle humor threading through the response.

Ashlynn grinned, for she found it adorable the couple wasn’t above showing affection for each other despite the fact the one of three footmen had climbed a tree while the other two were hacking away at evergreen trees. If they still held such hungry affection for each other after being wed for nearly a year, there was hope for her own relationship.

“Hush,” she told him as she squeezed his arm with her fingertips. “It’s sweet.” As she gazed up at him, she waited while her breath clouded about her head in the cold. Would he give her a kiss?

Though his eyes darkened, Timothy did no such thing. “I take no issue with their display of affection, but they are in a public place. Others might find it unseemly.”

“Spoilsport,” Mr. Ridgeway said with a laugh. “Perhaps you might glean pointers on how to conduct a romance with your wife, hmm?” While she and Mrs. Ridgeway chuckled, Timothy snorted. “Come off it, man. I was simply teasing.” He gestured with a gloved hand. “Let us help the footmen, unless you’d like to climb an oak tree in search of mistletoe?”

“Perish the thought. I’m rubbish at climbing, and too old besides.” He patted her hand then moved away from her. “Clearly, the man wishes to talk. If you are too cold, you can go back to the carriage.”

“I shall be fine. Besides, this place is like a wonderland with the snow sparkling all around and the scent of pine in the air.” She shooed him away as Mrs. Ridgeway watched them. “Go be with your friend.”

With a nod, he joined the other man, and they went off to assist in gathering evergreen boughs.

“Sometimes, I think grown men act more like children than children do.”

“I agree.” Ashlynn smiled at the other woman. “How are you today, Mrs. Ridgeway?”

“Please, call me Felicity. There is no need for formality here.” Though she smiled, the gesture was tinged with a bit of sadness. “I have had better days, to be sure.”

Immediately concerned, she frowned. “Is all well with you?”

“Not immediately.” For a few moments, silence reigned between them. Then Felicity sighed. “I suppose I should share this with you since our husbands are best friends. No doubt we will become close friends too.” She blew out a breath. “I miscarried a few days ago. The pregnancy was unexpected, for they thought we wouldn’t be able to conceive, and we’d gone into the marriage perfectly content with his daughter from his first union.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Ashlynn’s heart broke for the other woman. She came close and clutched Felicity’s hand. “You shouldn’t be out here. Surely you need to rest.”

“I need people around me and outings to serve as a distraction, but thank you for the concern. There was a bit of pain at the outset, but it’s gone now.” Tears sprang into the other woman’s eyes. “It wasn’t to be, I suppose.”

“My father always said to have faith that fate knew best.” Again, she squeezed Felicity’s hand. “That miracle will happen when you’re least expecting it, I’ll wager. And you’ll be all the more grateful for it.” How would she have reacted if that had been her? She hadn’t given the possibility of children much thought outside of briefly last night when she’d coupled with Timothy.

“Perhaps you’re right, but a loss is a loss, and it bruised my heart.”

“I know.” Feeling the urge to comfort the other woman, Ashlynn slipped an arm about her waist and led her into a slow walk about the area while the men called to each other regarding cutting boughs. “It is good the holiday season will distract you, and your husband’s daughter is home from school. That should help keep loneliness at bay.”

“Yes.” Felicity nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to change the subject.”

“Of course. I’m so sorry to add to your pain.” One would think she’d never been in public before and had no manners.

“It is not your fault.” But her smile didn’t make a return. “How is living with the baronet going? You seem more relaxed with him than the last time I saw you together. Are things well?”

“Things are progressing, yes.” The heat of a blush spread through her cheeks. “I, uh… That is to say last night, we were… Well, we—”

“Ah.” The veriest of grins took possession of Felicity’s lips. “I think I understand. You coupled with him.” When Ashlynn nodded, she did too. “This time of year does lend itself to cozy chats and warm embraces.”

“It does, and there is something about him that is so appealing, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” Should she be telling secrets? The urge for female council won over discretion. “To be honest, I’m more confused by him now than I was before. I thought I wanted a union in name only, to share a friendship with him.”

“I know exactly what you are going through.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yes. The days following my engagement to Hugh were fraught with those sorts of ponderings. However, after a bit, we opened up to each other and lent each other understanding. We realized we were far strong together than apart.” Her shrug only lifted one shoulder. “Give it time with Dashfield. Do you have feelings for him?”

“I’m not certain, and if I do, I don’t want them to be because we coupled.”

“You are clever to think that way. Passion might fade and you’ll still have the man.” This time, Felicity patted Ashlynn’s hand. “Feelings and love might not happen overnight, but they will happen. I will tell you to also have faither.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at the other woman. “It is lovely having a friend.”

“It rather is.” When laughter and joking between the men rang out on the cold air, Felicity snorted. “Let us make certain they don’t do harm to each other, for they act like young men sometimes.”

“Yes, but this sort of thing is good for Timothy. He takes life far too seriously.” Not that there was anything wrong with that, but he needed to realize there was more to existing than burying his nose in accounting ledgers or being unyielding when it came to financial matters.