Chapter 3

Chapter Three

G wen was a little disappointed when she woke. She didn’t even want to open her eyes. She’d been having a wonderful dream. Ash, ‘Lord Ashdown’, had saved her, once again, like a knight in shining armor. Even in her sleep-addled brain she laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. But when she did eventually allow her eyes to open, he was there, standing in the middle of the room. His clothes were a rumpled mess and he was tying an equally rumpled tie around his neck. It didn’t detract from the glorious shape of his body, though. The black fabric still hugged his tight backside and broad shoulders. She’d always been drawn to him in a way she couldn’t really explain.

Shame filled her belly as she remembered her behavior from the night before, throwing herself at him like some trollop. She might as well be. She’d been offering her body up as payment, after all.

He was nothing short of beautiful. Like an angel. A dark angel. She’d never seen him dressed in anything but black from head to toe. His dark hair was a bit unruly this morning and the shadow of a beard covered his face. So unlike him. Ordinarily, there was not a wrinkle to be found in his clothing, and not a hair out of place. But even as he was, confidence, power, and grace radiated from every inch of him. His station was so obvious. How had she never realized he was of the nobility?

“What’s so funny?” he asked without even looking her way.

“I thought I must have dreamt you up. Lord Ashdown, saving me from utter peril, once more.”

He finished with his tie and turned to face her. “Surely, if your mind had made it all up, you'd have at least been in a soft bed and warm.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” But she had been warm, and safe, in his arms. She yawned and stretched. As she sat up, she pulled the blanket with her to cover herself. Her cheeks warmed remembering how she’d paraded around the cabin naked, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do in front of a man.

“I’m sorry, Ash. Last night was— let’s just say I was not on my best behavior, and I apologize for any embarrassment or uneasiness I may have caused you.”

He crossed the room and crouched before her, raising her chin gently to look into her eyes. “You don’t need to apologize to me, Gwen. Last night was not a typical night for you. We’ll just forget the whole thing happened, and move forward.”

He might forget, but she would always remember. Even now, she could feel the heat of his strong hands gripping her backside as she lay on top of him in the rain. She gave him a small nod and a meek smile. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Ash.”

A self deprecating smile grew on his lips, then. “It’s funny how those same words can have such a different connotation in my own head.” He stood and moved away from her, a slight unevenness in his stride.

“What happened to your leg?”

He waved a hand as if it was nothing. “Somebody shot me.”

Gwen gasped, but Ash simply shrugged. “It’s nothing serious, but the thing doesn’t seem to want to stop hurting. A bloody nuisance, honestly.”

He donned his wrinkled coat and picked up his cane. “I’m going to step out and give you some privacy to dress. I need to get back before they send out a search party.” He opened the door but then stopped and turned back. “Oh, and as much as I hate to ask this of you, I’m going to need you to address me by my title while we’re here. I can’t have my staff questioning my authority in any way at the moment.”

And just like that he was gone. No further explanation. She wasn’t even entirely sure what that meant. She dressed herself as best she could in her soiled, wrinkled clothes. What was she supposed to do with one boot? Should she just leave it behind? Or carry it with her?

That decision was made for her. When she walked out the door, Ash grabbed the boot and threw it back inside. “We’ll get you a new pair.”

She sighed and pressed her lips into a thin line. “I don’t have any money, Ash.”

“That’s not something you need to worry about. I’m sure I can scrape together enough for a pair of boots.” He winked, trying to make light of it.

“I don’t want to be a charity case, Ash.”

He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “The money doesn’t matter to me. Your welfare and comfort do. So, from this moment forward, you just start addressing me as my lord, instead of Ash, and I’ll buy you all the boots you need. Can you do that?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, my lord.”

“Thank you.”

An hour later, Gwen preceded Ash through the front door of his massive home. She had never seen such opulence. The thick carpet was soft beneath her bare feet. Huge portraits, presumably of his ancestors, adorned the walls and marble busts sat atop decorative column-like plinths between them. She wasn’t sure how to feel about such extravagance. It was so opposed to what she knew about Ash.

“Fetch Mrs. Archer,” Ash ordered as he handed his hat and coat to a waiting footman.

“Yes, my lord.” The man scurried to do his bidding.

A short, stout woman of middling years rushed into the hall a few minutes later, a large chatelain rattling against her dark skirts.

“My lord, how may I be of service?”

“Mrs. Lawrence and I are both in need of baths. She will also need a change of clothes and a room to stay in.”

Apparently Gwen was now Mrs. Lawrence. She tried not to allow her surprise at the announcement to show on her face.

“Yes, my lord. Where would you like me to put her?”

“In the room next to mine.”

Gwen again tamped down her desire to whip her head toward Ash. For a brief second, the housekeeper’s brow furrowed.

“Is that a problem, Mrs. Archer?”

“No, my lord. Of course not.”

“Then see that it’s done,” he demanded. “And I will not tolerate any disrespect or gossip. Is that clear?”

“Yes, my lord.” She dipped a curtsey and Ash strode away without a backward glance. Gwen had never seen him treat anyone so harshly before, and it shook her.

“This way, Mrs. Lawrence.” It took a moment for Gwen to realize the housekeeper was addressing her. She swallowed down her apprehension and followed in her wake. The housekeeper rattled off orders to a half dozen other servants before they eventually arrived at a large bedchamber. When they entered, maids were still scurrying about, uncovering the furniture and dusting.

The housekeeper turned to face her. “Apologies, Mrs. Lawrence. We weren’t prepared for a guest.”

Gwen gave her a kind smile. “It’s quite understandable, Mrs. Archer. I appreciate you making me welcome.”

She followed the woman into the dressing room where a bath was already being filled. Mrs. Archer looked her up and down. “What kind of clothing do you require, Mrs. Lawrence?”

“Just anything clean will do. Don’t make a fuss on my account.”

Sinking down into the hot water a short time later was absolute bliss. The tub was so large she could even stretch out. Surely, she would be spoiled for all other baths after this. Mary, the maid, who’d been assigned to help her, had even drizzled some rose scented oil into the water. She’d never had a maid wait on her before, and it felt a bit awkward, but this seemed important to Ash, so she needed to play her part.

“How do you like working for Lord Ashdown?”

She shrugged as she scrubbed Gwen’s hair. “I’ve never actually met him. In fact, most of us haven’t.”

That seemed strange. “Has he been gone so long?”

The girl nodded. “From what I understand, he never stayed a single night here after the late Lord Ashdown’s funeral.”

So why was he here now?

* * *

Fogg’s raised brow was the only sign that he even noticed Ash’s rumpled state as he strode into his father’s dressing room. He gritted his teeth, holding back the memories. So many horrors had happened within these walls. Once the bath was ready, Fogg ushered the other servants out before helping Ash to undress. He was even more aware of Ash’s wishes sometimes than he was himself. Fogg knew he wouldn’t want the other servants to see his scars.

“Rough night?” Fogg asked as Ash sank down into the steamy water. He handed Ash a cloth and a bar of soap.

“You have no idea.” He set to the task of removing the layers of dirt, wishing he could also scrub away the memories of this awful place. How could a house so large feel as if it were closing in around him?

“I heard you returned with a woman.”

“How the hell did you hear that? I’ve only been back five minutes.”

“It’s only to your detriment to underestimate the speed at which gossip can travel through a household.”

“Apparently.”

“Who is she? Because I know she isn’t your mistress.”

“It’s Gwen.”

Fogg’s brow furrowed deeply. “Gwen? Lady Raven Gwen? Your Gwen?”

“She’s not my Gwen,” Ash spat.

Fogg held up his hands. “Apologies, boss, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”

Ash glared at Fogg. The man was far too perceptive for his own good. Of course he would have known Gwen was something special. She always had been, from the moment she’d tried to pick his pocket. His heart ached at the memory. It felt so long ago now.

“Yes, that Gwen.”

Fogg’s eyes narrowed. “What is she doing here?”

Ash stepped out of the tub and began drying off. Even the hot bathwater couldn’t chase away the icy cold inside these walls. Or perhaps these walls just made it emanate from within him. Ash shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I found her in a hunting cabin, sheltering from the rain.”

“I don’t like a coincidence,” Fogg said quietly, his brows plunged into a deep vee.

“Neither do I. I will need your help with something concerning her, as well, but for now, tell me what you were able to discover while I was discommoded.”

“Well, your estate manager has certainly made himself at home in your study, which was helpful of him. He obviously thought you’d never return. Full ledgers of his activities, just sitting in unlocked drawers. I still don’t fully understand all the details. There’s definitely some theft, as you suspected, but there also seems to be some kind of blackmail scheme?”

“Blackmail? Who is he blackmailing? And for what?”

“That’s what I don’t know, I’m afraid.”

“The tenants?”

“I don’t think it can be. The sums are far too great. I’ll need to reach out to some of my contacts and see what they can dig up. But there’s something else.”

Fogg’s pause was not a good sign. “What?”

“I believe he is somehow connected to the robbery.”

“This robbery?” Ash pointed to the healing scar above his knee.

Fogg nodded grimly. “We knew it wasn’t random, but I didn’t think a connection would show up here. It’s just too much of a coincidence to find information about your club in a desk drawer in this house, for your manager to not be involved in some way.”

Ash sighed loudly and scrubbed his hands against his face. “Well, since you’ll be reaching out to your network, have a look through the letters you pulled out of my coat pocket.”

Fogg opened the pages and read through them, his eyes growing wider with each passing line.

“Gwen?”

Ash nodded. “I need to know everything there is to know about that man so I can destroy him.” He might have been too young to protect his mother and brother, but he was no longer that scared boy. Now, he would do whatever was necessary to protect the people around him. That man would die for what he did to Gwen.

Fogg gave a single nod and slipped the pages into his own breast pocket. He obviously hadn’t missed the barely bridled anger in Ash’s voice.

“If I leave, who’s going to see to you?” Fogg asked. “I’m still not sure who you can trust here, and you can’t very well be the despotic Lord Ashdown without a valet.”

“I have someone in mind. Benson was my father’s valet until he one day refused to continue administering my beatings and my father threw him out.”

Even Fogg blanched slightly at the words.

Ash nodded. “I’ve kept loose tabs on him over the years. He lives about an hour’s ride from here. I believe I can probably convince him to come and work for me while I’m here. Perhaps it will give me a chance to make amends for some of the damage my father caused him.”

“You know,” Fogg said quietly, “it isn’t actually your job to make amends for your father’s wrongdoings.”

“And it isn’t your job to coddle me,” Ash snapped.

“Yes, my lord.” Fogg bowed deeply, all the while raising a challenging brow. Ash sighed and snatched his tie out of the man’s hand.

“Point taken,” Ash grumbled. Being back here was definitely making him grumpy, but Fogg recognized the words for the apology they were.

“What of Gwen? What do you mean to do with her while you’re here?”

“I don’t bloody well know.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, once more. “She wasn’t supposed to be a part of this whole goddamn mess.”

“Might I make a suggestion?” Fogg straightened Ash’s tie and reached for his waistcoat.

“By all means.”

“I may know of the way you comport yourself, but no one here will. They would most certainly believe her to be your mistress if you wanted them to.”

“Are you suggesting we pretend to be lovers?”

Fogg shrugged slowly. “It would be a way of preventing a lot of questions about who she is and where she came from. Your servants are hardly going to question the unwed master bringing along his mistress, especially considering you had her installed right next door. Not to mention, from what you’ve said of your father, it would help to uphold the pretense that you are your father’s son.”

Ash closed his eyes. He had spent a lifetime trying to convince himself that he wasn’t like his father. Fogg stopped the brush he was running over Ash’s coat and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not him, Ash. It’s just a role you’re playing right now. I know that.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Steel edged his voice as he spoke, self-hatred oozing through his every pore.

Fogg sighed and shook his head.

“You think I’m better than him, but I’m not. I have rules now, but back then I didn’t. I tupped all the female servants. Sure, I didn’t physically force myself on any of them, but once my brother was gone and I was the heir to the earldom, they would hardly have said no. All it took was a wink or a nod and they’d drop to their knees and pleasure me wherever I stood, or allow me to bend them over the nearest piece of furniture.

“You were a boy, Ash. How could you possibly have known it was wrong when that’s all you had ever experienced?”

Ash met Fogg’s gaze in the mirror. “Don’t you dare to make excuses for what I did to those women.”

Fogg stepped back and set the brush down firmly. “No. I’m sorry, Ash. You’re my employer, but I also count you as my friend, and I will not hold my tongue this time. You are not that man. You’ve spent a lifetime trying to atone. How many good deeds will be enough? How many people will you have to save? How many times will you have to abide by your own ridiculous rules to realize you are, in fact, a good man?”

Ash turned to face his valet. “Good men don’t need rules to be good.”

“That’s my point, Ash. Neither do you.”

Ash simply shook his head.

Fogg let out a defeated sigh. “How long will you need to fetch your new valet?”

“It’s early yet, I’ll go speak with him today. The sooner you get other people working, the sooner I can get some answers and leave this godforsaken place.”

“How confident are you that he'll say yes?”

“I’ll convince him. It’s probably best if you go today. Warwick is sure to turn up soon.”

Fogg nodded. “I’m kind of surprised he hasn’t yet. I assume the storm prevented whoever is working with him from immediately sending word of your arrival.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Gwen is going to need a new wardrobe, assuming she agrees to this ridiculous plot. I’ll take her with me and get that sorted, as well. She’ll be safe, so you can go ahead and go, whenever you’re ready.”

Fogg nodded.

“You will be back, right? I haven’t scared you off?”

Amusement flickered in Fogg’s eyes. “You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to scare me off. Have you forgotten I’m one of the many lost souls you’ve saved?”

Ash rolled his eyes, but then he looked at Fogg in earnest. “Thank you, Fogg.”

Ash steeled himself for the most difficult challenge of all of this, controlling his demons around Gwen. He checked his reflection one last time. “Wish me luck,” he said to Fogg as he turned for the door that led to her rooms.