Avoiding Stafford’s measuring gaze, Aidan looked off. “I thought it to be so, but if the lady departed with Trent, I have likely erred.”
Stafford lowered his voice. “We do not know each other well, Lexford, but believe me when I say, I have learned a bit about love and passion since that fiasco in Derbyshire at Pemberley several years back. If this girl is your ocean, your thunder, your rain, your mountains, your open door. If she is your everything, you would be a fool not to fight for her.”
Chapter 22
Mercy stared morosely out the window. She had been at Crandale Hall for five days. Tomorrow she would exchange vows with Sir Lesley. Mathias had made certain Mercy had had no opportunities to either to make her escape or to send a message to Geoffrey. Two maids had kept Mercy company at all times. One slept outside her door, while the other slept within. She had even been able to warn Jamot of Mathias’s knowing of the bed before the door. Although she held no doubt the foreigner would be a dangerous opponent, she still felt an obligation to him for the man’s protection on the road.
The window looked out upon the house’s main entrance, making an escape without being seen would be nearly impossible. Somehow, Mathias had convinced Mr. Wheaton to overlook the expiration of the ordinary license. She did not like to think upon what “inducements” Mathias had offered the man. Hopefully, if Mr. Wheaton had chosen to break the church’s laws, the cleric had earned something more than the threat of bodily harm for his efforts. She supposed the dates had been changed on the necessary documents.
The first evening of her confinement, Mercy had claimed exhaustion and had dined in her room alone. The previous two evenings, she had invited Sir Lesley to dine with her in her chamber’s sitting room. She meant to avoid Mathias as often as possible. The baronet was a genial man, and if were younger, Mercy might not consider this joining with such distaste. However, the thought of a man older than her father being her husband went against her sensibilities.
In addition to the agony of becoming Lady Trent, she now wondered how she and the baronet would be able to stop Mathias’s manipulations. Mercy was quite certain Sir Lesley would not take kindly to her suggestion that Mathias was involved in illegal activities. She was very much on her own in this matter.
*
Aidan and Hill had set a course for Lancashire. The Bedford innkeeper had had but two fresh horses, and so Swenton had continued on to London as Stafford’s guest in the viscount’s carriage.
“Promise me you will tell no one of these events,” Aidan had pressed.
The baron had earnestly studied Aidan’s countenance. “By your own hand, Pennington, and likely Sir Carter, know of Jamot’s presence in your home.” Swenton did not need to remind Aidan of what he now regretted. “I must, at a minimum, speak of our suspicions regarding Mathias Trent to Sir Carter.”
Reluctantly, Aidan had agreed. “But nothing of Miss Nelson. Promise me, John. If I fail, I want no sympathy from our Realm brothers. I have had my fill of consideration.”
Unwillingly, Swenton nodded his agreement. “If you find Miss Nelson in time, take her to Linton Park. Even if the others are in London, Lord and Lady Linworth will welcome you to Linton Chapel. The place has brought good fortune to the others, and you will likely require it after such a tumultuous time.”
Aidan objected. “I had thought of Scotland. It is much quicker.”
The baron shook Aidan’s hand in departure. “Everyone will anticipate your going to Scotland. If anyone means to stop you, your traveling in the opposite direction will fool your pursuers. As to the special license, in your stead, I will call at Doctors Commons tomorrow. When the special license is secured, I will have it carried to Linton Park by the Realm’s fastest courier. Take Miss Nelson to Derbyshire and begin your life’s journey in a proper church. It would please me to know you are among the fortunate ones.”
The sound of Hill’s approach brought Aidan from his musings. Even after two days of hard riding, Aidan still held doubts of his success. “I have secured rooms for the night. We should be in Chorley tomorrow.”
Aidan glanced about the private room. He ate because he required the strength to carry on. He slept for the same reason, but with each mile they had covered, he had known dread. What if he were too late or worse yet, what if he had misjudged Miss Nelson’s sentiments?
As if he had read Aidan’s thoughts, Hill assured, “We will arrive in time.”
The sauce dripped from his fork. The utensil did not move from where he had raised it to his lips. “And what if we do not?”
Hill’s eyebrow rose in stark disbelief. “The lady is a fighter, my Lord. Miss Nelson will not go easy.”
Aidan jammed the fork into his mouth to accept the bit of meat and potato. In his mind, he chewed upon what Hill had said. Miss Nelson was a fighter, but she had meant to set him free. “I wish for an early start. I mean to be on Trent’s doorstep at a most unsociable hour.”
*
Aidan and Hill crouched low to watch the comings and goings of an obviously busy household. “What do you suspect is so important?” Hill asked.
“I do not wish to think upon it,” Aidan said dejectedly.
Hill started away. “Stay here. I mean to ask.”
Aidan caught his friend’s arm. “Trent may recognize you.”
Hill smiled that wily grin Aidan knew so well. “I do not intend to ask the baronet’s son. That is not unless someone else cannot provide me an answer. You keep watch and save the heroics until we need them.”
A few minutes later, Hill slipped into the open stable door. He glanced about, but no one appeared to be within. Cautiously, Lucifer edged along the line of open stalls. Finally, he called out, “Anyone about?”
A moment of silence followed before an old man with thinning gray hair appeared from the tack room. “May I hep you?”
Lucifer offered up an easy smile. “Just lookin’ for a bit of werk.” He used the dialect once common to his speech.
The man eyed Lucifer suspiciously. “You been in the war?”
“Since ’09 and Corunna.” Lucifer knew something of all the major battles. Lexford and the others had taught him well. “Been lookin’ for steady werk since leavin’ Belgium.”
“You appear fit enough, but I’m ‘fraid I kin offer you nothin’ today. The baronet be gitten himself married. Twill be no hirin’ for a week or more.”
Hill shrugged regrettably. “I don’t be expectin’ to remain in Lancashire a week, but I thank you for yer kindness.” He started toward the still open door. “I hope yer new mistress be a kind one, and the baronet fills his house with children.”
“Miss Nelson be a baron’s sister and young enough to add to Sir Lesley’s family.” The man followed Hill toward the door.
Lucifer paused casually. “You didn’t say what time the nuptials be.”
The old man took out a pocket watch. “Less than a half hour.”
*
Mercy with two maids in tow paced the small anteroom. She had begged Sir Lesley to postpone the ceremony until Geoffrey could return to give her away, but the baronet had answered each of her objections with “Mathias has made arrangements for…” or “Mathias assures me…” Sir Lesley had turned much of his life over to his son, which would prove a major mistake if she could not convince the baronet of his son’s duplicity.
When Mr. Wheaton had spoken to her earlier, she attempted to plead for his assistance, but the curate remained adamant that the ceremony was the baronet’s wish.
“It is time, Miss,” the maid known as Sally said from behind her. Mercy glanced down at the pale yellow dress Sir Lesley had had made for her. “Yellow,” she grumbled. “It only goes to show how little my future husband knows of my preferences. I shall spend my life looking as if I am a wilted spring flower.”
“I think the gown quite lovely, Ma’am,” the maid assured.
Mercy rolled her eyes. “But not for a woman of my coloring,” she protested.
A light tap at th
e door indicated her options had expired. Sir Lesley waited. Mercy grudgingly jammed the yellow bonnet upon her head and tied the too long ribbon in a flamboyant bow. She followed the maid from the room. With eyes dejectedly upon the floor, she walked toward her future.
*
Hill had rushed to where Aidan waited. “We have less than a half hour,” he yelled as he mounted.
Aidan’s heart jumped into action. They had earlier scouted the area and knew the location of the nearest church. Aidan whipped the horse’s reins from side to side as he dug in his heels. Please God, he prayed with each pounding stride of his horse’s hoofs. Do not steal her away from me.
He and Hill slowed their animals, as the small church grew larger with their approach. “Damnation!” Hill growled as they reined in on the hill overlooking the chapel. “Trent is taking no chances.” Armed guards prowled the church grounds.
Aidan grinned. “There are only ten or so, and I have missed a bit of physical contact while I recovered from my injury.” Aidan extracted a gun from an inside pocket.
Hill shook his head in amusement. “In that case, you can take the front. I will enter through the back.”
Aidan’s smile widened. “Just the way I prefer it. Be wary, my Friend.”
“You too, Sir.”
With that, they separated. Aidan made his way quickly down the hill. Crouched low, he half slid to the bottom and was charging the guards milling about before the church before they knew of his presence. The first one earned a small knife placed perfectly in the soft part of the man’s throat while the second received an incapacitating blow across the back of his neck. The third a bullet to the knee.
*
The sound of gunshot brought Mercy’s head up. Hope had arrived. If there were trouble outside, perhaps she could escape in the melee.
“What is amiss?” Sir Lesley asked his eldest son.
Mathias grumbled, “Likely nothing more than some fool cleaning his gun.” The baronet’s heir strode toward the front of the church. “Continue with the ceremony, Mr. Wheaton.”
The curate’s trembling lips began the customary reading. “Dearly beloved…we are gathered…together here…in the sight of God…and in the face…of this company…”
*
Two more of the baronet’s guards charged Aidan. He sidestepped, sending one flipping over his shoulder to land awkwardly upon his backside. The sound of bones breaking, said the man would not be moving soon, but to guarantee no renewal of the culprit’s attack, Aidan stomped hard upon the man’s chest. He turned to latch onto the second of the two. Like a bare knuckles champ, he hit the man squarely in the nose with several quick jabs. Blood poured from his attacker’s nostrils. Aidan’s next jab struck the man in the neck before shoving him to the ground. “Move and I will kill you,” he growled.
Finishing off the last of the guards, Aidan rushed to the church door. Jerking it open, he came face to face with the man who had entered his house with Jamot.
*
“Which is an honest estate instituted by God…”
The noise outside told Mercy something more than a man cleaning his gun was amiss. She shot a glance to Sir Lesley’s frowning countenance before making her decision to put a halt to the ceremony, even if it was only a temporary delay. With a fluttering hand to her cheek, Mercy pretended to swoon and dropped to the floor. Keeping her eyes closed, she waited for what would happen next.
*
Lucifer caught two of the men by their collars and slammed their heads together. Both sets of eyes had gone blank before he had released them to kiss the ground. A third received an elbow to the neck before he slumped over. A solid blow to the man’s back sent his attacker into the dirt.
Lucifer turned to meet the next assailant, but no one appeared. Two men scattered toward the hill without looking back. The sound of a single shot told him the viscount had met a more established force, and Lucifer had thought to rush to Lexford’s side, but he knew his role in this mission. He was to reach and protect Miss Nelson. Therefore, he kicked at the locked door. Once. Twice. On the third attempt the door banged open. Rushing through the small storage room, Lucifer burst into the main church. “Cease with the vows!” he shouted. Gun pointing at the curate and an elderly gentleman, Lucifer planted his stance and waited for Lexford’s appearance. As if on cue, the main door flew open to reveal the viscount. Unfortunately, another man waited also.
*
One of the maids had rushed to Mercy’s side, but as far as she could tell with her eyes closed, no one else had thought to tend to her. Then a familiar voice called out, “Cease with the vows!” and Mercy’s heart soared. Mr. Hill had come for her. Was the viscount also present? She cautiously opened her eyes and pushed herself to her elbows.
Brandishing the gun, Mr. Hill had sent the baronet and the curate, as well as the Sir Lesley’s younger children, who huddled together in a corner, in retreat. Mercy took advantage of the distraction. She scrambled to her feet to reach Mr. Hill. “Thank God, you arrived in time.”
He shoved her behind him. “Stay close,” Hill cautioned.
“What is the meaning of this?” Sir Lesley pushed past Mr. Wheaton to take a position of prominence.
When the main door had flown open, Mercy had prayed for her one particular miracle: Lord Lexford’s appearance, but when she finally saw him after a fortnight of separation, all she could do was stare in bewilderment. He had come. “Aidan,” she whispered as their eyes met.
The viscount also held a gun, and Mathias Trent raised his hands in surrender. “Move!” Lord Lexford had ordered, and Trent had stepped away, but not far enough for Mercy’s comfort.
“Beware of Trent,” Mercy warned Hill in hushed tones, and the gentle giant beside her tensed in response.
*
Aidan’s eyes had found her immediately. There she was in all her glory; his lips spoke her name before his heart closed about it, keeping it safely where it belonged.
“I will ask again,” the older man said. “What is the meaning of this madness?”
Aidan ignored the baronet. He looked upon the woman he loved. Except for the color of her gown, which did her no justice, she was exquisite. He approached slowly, and Miss Nelson stepped beside Hill. “I have missed your company, my Dear,” he said evenly.
The lady blushed from such open intimacies, but her eyes remained locked on his. “And I you, my Lord.”
Sir Lesley demanded, “What is the meaning of this, Mercy?”
Aidan gave Miss Nelson a knowing look before saying, “You meant, Sir Lesley, to force the lady into a marriage she would not have.”
Sir Lesley looked about the room to analyze the situation. “Who may you be, Sir?”
Aidan answered aristocratically, “Lexford of Lexington Arms in Cheshire.”
Sir Lesley offered an abbreviated bow. “I assure you, my Lord, Miss Nelson is my betrothed.”
Aidan smiled easily. He loved it when others attempted to fool him. “Even if that were true, Sir Lesley, a wedding could not occur today. Miss Nelson departed Lancashire in early November, and she has resided with me since mid December. Four months would require another calling of the banns. An illegal marriage is beyond you, Sir.”
Mathias Trent said from somewhere off Aidan’s left shoulder, “A second pronouncement of the banns has occurred, my Lord.”
Aidan glared over his shoulder at the man. He hoped Trent did something to justify his taking his vengeance out on the man. He owed the future baronet for the fire and for invading his household. “Yes, I fully comprehend fifteen days beginning on a Sunday would suffice to resolve the legality of exchanging of vows, but as you and Jamot were in my home less than a fortnight prior, and the lady’s room was still warm from her presence during that intrusion, three callings could not have occurred.”
Trent gestured wildly. “You speak an untruth, my Lord. I know no one named Jamot.”
“Talpur,” Miss Nelson said in explanation.
His mouth compre
ssed. Time for a bit of honesty. “You must never keep secrets from me again, my Dear.” She shook her head in the affirmative before dropping their eyes. To Trent, he said patricianly, “Rahmut Talpur died nearly a year prior in the Cornish home of the Duke of Thornhill. Talpur had kidnapped the Duke’s daughter; he died at the hands of James Kerrington, the future Earl of Linworth. The man with whom you traveled is Murhad Jamot.” Trent’s countenance relayed his surprise, and Aidan knew satisfaction.
Trent continued, “Then we will wait for another proper calling. Nothing has changed: Miss Nelson remains my father’s betrothed.”
Aidan’s lips twisted. He would complicate their lives further with one more fabrication. “While she resided at Lexington Arms, Miss Nelson explained her brother’s wishes were not hers. The lady has chosen elsewhere, Sir Lesley. Miss Nelson became my wife in early February. The marriage has been consummated. There is the possibility Lady Lexford carries my child.”
Sir Lesley looked indignantly upon the lady. “Is this true?”
Thankfully, Miss Nelson did not even blink. Aidan thought she would make an excellent spy. “It is.”
“But why would you not inform me of this aberration?” Sir Lesley demanded.
“My wife fled your son’s threats and accusations. It was foolish of Lady Lexford not to trust me to protect her. Yet, with her brother’s previous abuse, I can forgive her the lack of forethought. When Trent overtook Lady Lexford upon the London Road, I imagine Mercy knew not how to divert Trent’s desire to make you the happiest of men.” Aidan prayed he would not go to Hell for his many prevarications. “Now, come, my Dear.” He extended his hand to Mercy. “It is time to return to Cheshire.” He meant to have her safely in his arms.
Sir Lesley did not appear appeased by Aidan’s explanation. While Trent reached suspiciously into a side pocket, the baronet raised a hand to still Mercy’s steps. “Why would you not say something when you arrived at Crandale Hall? You led me to believe you had been in Nottingham?”
Miss Nelson looked upon the baronet with empathy. “You, obviously, had been misled by both my brother and Mathias. When I arrived, you readily accepted the fact I should remain at Crandale. Would you have believed me if I spoke out against your eldest son?” she challenged. “Should it not have appeared odd that I have not left my quarters since my arrival? Or that the maids slept both inside and outside my door?”
Realm 05 - A Touch of Mercy Page 36