Page 14 of The Lovers (Echoes from the Past #1)

SEVEN

London, England

An icy wind blew off the river and nipped at Elise’s cheeks as the ferryboat glided across the Thames, its lantern swinging from side to side.

It was still lit despite the hour due to the thick fog swirling all around them and making Elise feel as if they were alone on the river.

The fog seemed to mute all sound, the only thing still audible were the twin splashes as the oars dipped into the water.

The ferryman looked glum as he navigated the boat toward the Strand, his eyes fixed on the smudge of bank looming in the distance.

Elise huddled into her cloak, frozen to the bone despite the warm lining of fox fur.

Damp seeped into her bones and made her shiver. Or was it apprehension?

Hugh de Lesseps sat quite still, his face turned toward the shore, his hands resting on his thighs.

He hadn’t uttered a word since leaving home an hour ago, abandoning Elise to her own thoughts, which were less than tranquil.

She’d eaten a light breakfast of bread and broth, but now the food soured her stomach and the rocking of the boat made her feel as if she might be sick.

She breathed deeply, hoping the frigid air would prevent her from giving in to the nausea.

Hugh sprang to his feet as soon as the boat docked, paid the ferryman, and helped Elise out of the boat.

“Come,” was all he said as they set off toward Asher Hall on foot.

Elise was grateful to feel solid ground beneath her feet.

She was still nervous, but at least her stomach seemed to be settling .

Elise followed her father silently down the street, her thoughts on the upcoming interview with Lord Asher.

She found it odd that she’d been summoned to call on her betrothed instead of him coming to her, but then again, nothing about this situation was what she would consider to be normal or proper.

The wedding was only a week away, but she’d had no contact with Lord Asher, nor had she been informed or consulted on anything.

The summons came the previous evening, inviting Elise and her father to call on Lord Asher at his home at midday.

They hadn’t even been invited to dine, just to attend, which meant that they would be expected to leave as soon as their business was concluded, whatever that business was.

Elise walked with her head down, paying little heed to the grand houses or traffic in the street.

Her father pulled her roughly out of the way as a fine carriage rattled down the street, the coachman huddled into his cloak and the horses blowing steam as they raced past. It was too early for a gentleman to be going out, so the occupant was likely just returning from a night’s entertainment, possibly at the palace.

Had Lord Asher spent the night at home, or had he gone out for the evening to enjoy the amusements the court had to offer?

Elise wondered. Would he take her with him once they were wed?

Elise nearly bumped into her father when Hugh stopped in front of Asher Hall.

The imposing facade was shrouded in soupy fog, and most of the shutters were closed, as if the occupants were still asleep.

Elise was surprised to note that the house was built of gray stone, boasting large windows and numerous chimney pots, at least half of which were belching smoke.

Fires had been lit in several rooms, by the look of things, so at least the place must be warm.

The building itself was surprisingly modern and nothing like the half-timbered Tudor houses that lined the narrow streets, their overhanging second stories blocking nearly all the light and leaving the streets in shadow even on the brightest of days.

Imposing wrought iron gates set into a stone wall bore an ornate A on either side, a small sign of vanity on the part of the owner.

Lord Asher spared no expense in building his London residence, and it showed.

“Are we early, Father?” Elise asked as she surveyed her future home.

“No, we are on time.”

Hugh pushed open the gates and walked down the drive toward the front door.

He used the heavy knocker to announce their presence as Elise hovered behind him, her heart fluttering in her chest, which was constricted with rising panic.

She considered herself to be a sensible person, but at this moment, she had an overwhelming urge to run and hide.

She supposed all brides felt frightened and unsure a week before their wedding, especially if the union was arranged by the families, and they barely knew the bridegroom.

There was no reason to fear, she told herself as a servant opened the door and ushered them inside and into a large parlor furnished with several heavy settles and chairs situated against the walls and decorated with lavish tapestries that gave some much-needed color to the dark-paneled room.

The roaring fire warmed the parlor, its orange flames dispelling the gloom seeping through the casement windows and providing enough light to supplement the two candles supplied by the servant.

“Lord Asher bids you to make yourselves comfortable. He’ll be down presently,” the servant informed them before leaving the room.

Elise removed her cloak and hung it over a chair but remained standing, far too agitated to sit down.

Her father pulled off his gloves, shrugged off his cloak, and took a seat closest to the fire.

His eyes strayed to a portrait hanging above the hearth.

It was of a fair-haired young woman posed in a splendid gown of aquamarine damask, a sweet puppy in her lap .

“Who is that?” Elise asked, marveling at how little she knew of her future husband and his family.

“His wife,” Hugh replied curtly.

“She is beautiful,” Elise said as she moved closer to the fire.

“Was beautiful,” her father corrected her. “You will be his wife now.”

The servant returned a moment later, bearing a tray, which she set on a low table between the two hardback chairs in front of the fire.

“Would you care for some spiced wine, Master de Lesseps?” she asked deferentially.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Hugh replied, holding out his hand for a cup of wine. “Have some, Elise. You need it. It will put the roses back in your cheeks.”

Perhaps her father hadn’t meant to sound critical, but she detected a note of displeasure in his tone.

She must look a fright. Elise accepted a cup of wine and took a sip.

It was delicious and instantly made her feel warmer.

She took another swallow, savoring the delicate flavor of cinnamon and cloves with a hint of honey.

The wine warmed its way down her gullet and gave Elise a pleasant sensation in her belly.

She’d broken her fast hours ago, before the sun was up, and hunger seemed to be contributing to the effect of the wine, which was making her feel light-headed and languid.

She had to admit that she welcomed the alcohol-induced calm. It was better than panic.

Elise had nearly finished her drink by the time Lord Asher finally graced them with his presence.

He was elegantly dressed, despite the early hour, in an exquisitely embroidered dark-blue velvet coat with wide cuffs, matching pleated breeches, white hose, and shoes with silver buckles.

His wig was in the latest style, long and curly, just like those Charles himself favored.

“Good morrow,” Lord Asher greeted them, his smile warm and welcoming. “I do appreciate you making the journey on such a frigid morning. I hope it wasn’t too arduous.”

“It was no trouble, your lordship,” Hugh replied as he rose to his feet to shake Lord Asher’s outstretched hand.

Lord Asher shook Hugh’s hand, but his eyes never left Elise’s face.

He approached her slowly, a smile pasted on his face.

Now that he was closer, Elise could see that there were dark shadows beneath his eyes, stubble on his pale cheeks, and the smell of liquor on his breath.

Perhaps he’d just returned home from a night’s entertainment.

The thought made Elise uneasy, giving her an unwelcome glimpse into what her life with Lord Asher might be if he continued to carouse after they were wed.

“My dear, what an absolute pleasure to see you again. I do hope you’re not angry with me for not coming to see you.

I’ve been rather preoccupied with the business of the king, I’m afraid.

I wouldn’t dare bore you with the details,” he added, waving his hand in a practiced gesture meant to disarm her.

“Now, if your papa will allow it, I’d like a few minutes alone with my bride. ”

“Of course,” Hugh readily agreed. “I’ll just step outside.”

“My man is outside with the signed marriage contract. Perhaps you can cast an eye over it while you wait,” Lord Asher added airily, making it sound as if Hugh was in a position to make changes or demands.

They all knew that wasn’t the case, but her father bowed stiffly from the neck, acquiescing to the request and doing everything he could to maintain his dignity.

Elise felt a pang of unease as Hugh left them alone. She didn’t expect Lord Asher to do anything untoward, but it felt awkward to be alone with him. They were strangers to each other, strangers who would be united in matrimony in a week’s time.

“Elise, my dear, I am so pleased that you accepted my proposal,” Lord Asher said as he took her hands in his, squeezing them lightly. “I feared you’d refuse.”

“It was an honor to be asked,” Elise replied. She wanted to smile, but something held her back. There were so many things she wanted to ask this man but instinctively knew that she shouldn’t, at least not now.

“So like your dear mother,” Asher said as he gazed into her eyes. “She was a beauty, you know. I was very sorry to hear of her passing.”