Realm 03 - A Touch of Cashemere
Page 22
Therefore, she purposely ignored his words. “How is Viscount Lexford?”
The physician relayed his disapproval with a scowling countenance, but he said, “Lord Lexford has a serious head injury. I have cleaned the wound and stitched the area. Of course, my greatest concern is the swelling. If His Lordship’s head is swollen on the outside, it is likely swollen on the inside of his skull, as well. The brain takes its own time in healing, but there is promise. Lord Lexford must have recovered enough to mount his horse because he was found some distance from where his hat was left behind.”
Cashé listened carefully to what the surgeon said professionally and what he omitted. The viscount might not recover. If so, it would be her fault. She had manipulated today’s rendezvous. Lord Lexford must have been quite distracted if someone had caught him unawares. She wondered if Satiné had enticed the viscount’s attentions, allowing His Lordship’s assailant to do his worst.
“Then we shall give the viscount the best care possible. You have given Mrs. Lacey instructions, Sir?”
The surgeon again bit back his displeasure. “I have.” He looked about him, as if he did not know what to do next. “I will call a bit later to see to Lord Lexford’s progress.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Cashé rose to return to her letters. “I will trust your expertise with His Lordship.”
With the surgeon’s exit, Cashé spent a few more minutes explaining to James Kerrington what had occurred and why she desperately needed his guidance. She knew about Jamot and the earl and the possibility that someone had likely taken Satiné. If people looked back on her actions over the last few hours, they might consider her detached, but Cashé felt it all–the responsibility for Satiné being alone with Lord Lexford–the guilt at having secretly searched her uncle’s private papers–and the incompetence she had felt at being the one in charge. Yet, she would weather whatever God placed before her. It would be what both Uncle Charles and Lord Yardley would expect of her.
“Miss Aldridge.”
Cashé looked up to see Mr. Stewart. “Yes.”
“The magistrate wishes a word, Miss.”
“Send him in, Mr. Stewart.”
The elderly gentleman came solicitously to a halt beside the desk. She had met Malcolm Lloyd at her uncle’s recent gathering. Surprisingly, his demeanor offered her comfort. He did not judge her as being too young to assume responsibility. “Miss Aldridge, my heart goes out to you. This mystery will resolve itself; I will not rest until your sister is returned safely to the manor.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lloyd. Tell me what we may do at Chesterfield Manor to aid in your search.” Cashé caught the man’s arm and led him to a wing chair. She sat across from him. “My uncle would spare no expense to bring Satiné home, and I feel confident to pledge as such in his name.”
“Of course, Ashton would want you to act in his stead,” the magistrate assured her.
Cashé wanted him to understand that she would willingly accept assistance in this matter. “I have drafted a letter to my cousin James Kerrington, Viscount Worthing. His estate is in Derbyshire, and Lord Worthing and Viscount Lexford served together in the East. He will be here in hours to serve in my stead, but until then I insist on being kept informed. I am not the type to spend my hours crying into a gentleman’s handkerchief.”
Mr. Lloyd smiled knowingly. “Ashton indicated as much. Your uncle is quite proud of the woman you have become.”
Pleased that her Uncle Charles had spoken positively of her, Cashé blushed. “Have you examined where our staff found Lord Lexford’s body?” She redirected the conversation.
“Mr. Stewart’s men did an excellent joy of keeping the scene clear of outsiders who might destroy the clues. Many of the baron’s men have been on search parties for runaways,” he disclosed. “Everything was as Mr. Stewart relayed. We followed the coach’s tracks to the main road, but we have no way to discern them from there. There are marks where your sister and His Lordship had dismounted and a few leading to the outcropping. It is a popular site, overlooking the falls, but the hard rain earlier in the week washed the area clean. Theirs were the only ones coming from the west, but there are difference boot marks along the tree line to the east. The carriage marks are a quarter mile or so away from the site.”
“You were very thorough,” Cashé remarked.
“Been doing this for some time, Miss.” The magistrate leaned forward to press his point. “Your sister is my chief concern. Is there anything else I should know about this situation?”
Cashé considered telling the man of Jamot and the emerald, but what the Realm did was not exactly a secret, yet, not readily shared with others. “Nothing of which I am aware, Sir,” she lied. “Is it possible, Mr. Lloyd, that Satiné ran away when Lord Lexford was attacked? Is it possible she has taken refugee somewhere on the estate or in the area? Perhaps, Satiné is injured, as well. Perhaps the carriage tracks have nothing to do with my twin’s disappearance.” She remembered how Jamot’s kidnapping of Velvet had ruined her eldest sister’s reputation. Cashé wished to protect Satiné’s name.
“All of what you have asked is possible, Miss Aldridge.” The man’s voice held a bit of skepticism, but she had planted the seed of doubt. Mr. Lloyd rose to make his exit. “We have a few more hours of daylight to aid our search. Mr. Stewart has recruited every available hand and tenant. We will make a thorough sweep of the area between the manor and the falls.”
Cashé stood also. “Mr. Stewart has a rider prepared to take the letters to Lord Worthing and my uncle. They will be on their ways to their recipients in the next quarter hour,” she declared. “Therefore, there is nothing for me to do but to await your success.”
Thirty minutes later, Cashé slipped into Lexford’s room. “Any change, Mrs. Lacey?” she asked as she pulled a chair close to the bed.
“It is too soon, Miss–not until tomorrow at the earliest.” She changed a cool compress on Lexford’s head.
Cashé nodded automatically. “I will sit with His Lordship for awhile. There is nothing I can do downstairs besides stare out the window and wait.”
Mrs. Lacey lightly touched Cashé’s shoulder. “It is a great burden, but you have performed well.”
“I should not have left them.” She reached for Lexford’s fingers, bringing the back of his hand to her cheek.
Mrs. Lacey changed out the water in the bowl. “You are not to blame yourself, Miss Aldridge.”
Yet, Cashé knew better; she should be wherever Satiné was being held.
After sitting with His Lordship for several hours, for the last three, she had watched the hands creeping about the clock’s face. Cashé had estimated how long it would take an experienced rider to reach Linton Park and how long it would take Worthing to respond, so when she heard the sound of horse’s hooves in the drive, she breathed relief that he had come. Racing from Lexford’s room, she was in Worthing’s comforting embrace within seconds. She had not allowed herself to cry since the first moment she had heard of Lexford’s injury, but now she cried openly in the arms of a man she barely knew.
“Come,” he whispered close to her ear, as he led Cashé into an open doorway. Kerrington motioned to a maid to bring tea, and then he seated Cashé on a settee. “I am here,” he murmured as he caught her in his arms again. “I will let nothing happen to you.”
Cashé cried her tears of regret and her tears of worry, soaking Worthing’s shirt and cravat before sitting herself away from him. “I am sorry, Your Lordship,” she mumbled while patting her eyes dry.
Kerrington smiled with gentleness. “Eleanor placed an extra handkerchief in my pocket before I left Linton Park. She said you would need it.”
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” she rasped through a stifled sob.
He looked up to see the waiting maid, balancing the tea service. “Let us have some tea,” he encouraged. “I told the countess recently that when I was in Persia that I missed English tea more than anything else from my daily life.”
The maid quickly exited, and Kerrington waited for Cashé to resume her composure before he said, “Now, my Dear, you must tell me everything before I see Lexford.”
Cashé related all the specifics of the attack, Lexford’s injury, and Satiné’s disappearance. “Could Jamot have taken my twin the way he did Velvet?” she asked.
“I have never known the Baloch to repeat his revenge nor would he take Miss Satiné without making a demand for return of the emerald. Jamot planned an elaborate abduction of Eleanor in Hyde Park, but Sir Louis staged his own farce, disrupting Jamot’s plans. We are certain Jamot killed Sir Louis to keep the man quiet. Then the dual kidnappings of Sonali and Her Grace occurred. Although the Baloch staged an abduction of Velvet, I do not believe he would practice another kidnapping so soon. The last one produced negative effects. It does not make sense for him. Jamot considers himself a strategist.”
“But he broke into the earl’s home recently,” Cashé insisted.
Kerrington’s eyebrow rose in question. “I suppose Lexford shared the incident?”
Cashé blushed. “The viscount explained as such when he arrived recently.”
He placed his cup and saucer on a side table. “Cashémere, I am going to ask something, and I need the absolute truth.” He paused for her gaze to return to his. “Explain to me how if Lexford came to Chesterfield to woo you, that he rode off with your sister, especially after you reportedly had trouble with your saddle. If you were his interest, no matter how much you insisted, the viscount would not desert you for Satiné.” He paused before adding, “And also explain the obvious differences in your and Wellston’s relationship before he departed for Northumberland from what Ella reported upon your first arrival at Linton Park.”
Cashé thought to lie to him, but she needed an ally. “You will not tell anyone else?” she pleaded.
“As long as what you say does not put anyone in danger, I will keep your confidence.”
She swallowed hard. “Satiné and I came to an understanding of sorts before we departed Linton Park. Despite, Lord Lexford’s and Lord Yardley’s initial interest, we found ourselves attracted to the other suitor. As few can tell my twin and I apart physically, we devised a switch where we could learn more of each other. We have since traded places several times in the last few weeks, fooling everyone, even Uncle Charles.” She noted that Kerrington fought back a smile, which gave her confidence. “Today, Satiné pretended to be I. We thought Lord Lexford only found me attractive physically, but Satiné is my equal in that manner. If we could convince him to lost his heart to Satiné in my name, she and the viscount share much in common.”
“Poor Lexford,” Kerrington shook his head in disbelief. “Did he not suspect the apparent contrasts?”
Cashé smiled deviously. “I am afraid our ruse worked perfectly, which only proves His Lordship to be besotted in name only.”
“Is the earl aware of this plan? Has Wellston given his approval, or do you plan to fool him also?”
Cashé flushed in embarrassment. “I would not say that Lord Yardley approves, but His Lordship is aware of our scheme.”
“I cannot imagine Wellston willingly would seek to displace Lexford.”
“Of course, the earl would not betray his friend,” she defended Marcus. “He has expressed a resolve to remove himself from the situation rather than to hurt Lord Lexford. It is I who will not permit him to do so. Only Lord Yardley engages my heart.
“What an interesting twist of fate,” Kerrington remarked. “But it explains what I read in Yardley’s sudden concern for your well being.”
Again, Worthing’s words sent a shiver down Cashé’s spine. “His Lordship sent Mr. Breeson to warn me of Jamot’s household invasion. I knew before anyone else,” she confided.
Before Kerrington could respond, a knock announced the return of Mr. Lloyd. “Excuse me, Miss Aldridge.” The magistrate remained in the open doorway.
“Come in, Mr. Lloyd,” Cashé motioned as she came to her feet. “Mr. Lloyd, permit me to present my cousin Viscount Worthing.”
Kerrington rose stiffly. “My Lord,” Lloyd bowed. “I am pleased to see that Miss Aldridge’s family has come to her assistance.”
Kerrington returned the bow. “I assume, Sir, that you have news of importance to share.”
“Yes, my Lord.” He stepped further into the room. “I found a witness who saw the coach turning from the access road onto the main one.”
“A witness?” Kerrington gestured the man to a seat.
The magistrate removed his handkerchief to mop the sweat from his brow. “Mr. Tolley, the coachman for the late morning run, recalls the carriage. Said he noticed it because as his coach passed the small road, that he had worried that the man driving the other carriage might turn his coach into Tolley’s.”
“Did Mr. Tolley recognize the driver?” Kerrington questioned.
“Not that he recalled, Sir.” The magistrate appeared in his element. “Said the driver was a big man–not only tall, but with big shoulders.”
Kerrington shot a quick glance at Cashé. “Was he British?”
The magistrate appeared confused. “Do you mean did the driver appear to be an Englishman?” Kerrington nodded his affirmation. “Well, I do not likely know for certain, Lord Worthing. I did not think to ask, but I am relatively certain that if the man were a foreigner, Tolley would have mentioned it. Besides, I have discovered a name. The man rented the carriage at the inn.”
“And the name, Mr. Lloyd?” Kerrington pressed.
“Boyd Livingstone.” The man read from a piece of paper he removed from an inside pocket.
“Sounds British,” Kerrington remarked. Unable to control her response, Cashé blanched, turning completely white. She briefly met Worthing’s inquiring eyes before looking away. “At least, you have a solid lead, Mr. Lloyd. I assume you have sent riders to trail the coach as far as possible. We need to confirm that my wife’s cousin Miss Satiné was not on the coach.” Kerrington stood to bring the conversation to a close. “Mr. Tolley did not by some chance take note of Miss Aldridge’s sister, I presume.”
Mr. Lloyd rose also. “No, my Lord. Tolley said the coach appeared empty.” He bowed to Kerrington and then to Cashé. “I will see to the riders immediately, Lord Worthing.”
Kerrington walked the man to the door. “My cousin and I appreciate all you have done today. I plan to speak to the surgeon regarding Lord Lexford’s recovery and then to Ashton’s staff. I will call upon you, Mr. Lloyd, a bit later, if that is acceptable. It is coming up on nightfall.”
“Certainly, Lord Worthing.” The magistrate made a speedy exit.
Kerrington turned to find Cashé swaying in place–a tight grip on her chair’s back keeping her knees from buckling. Worthing caught her about the waist and assisted her to a seat. He knelt beside her. “Tell me,” he whispered hoarsely. “Who is Boyd Livingstone?”
“It is the name of Mr. Lachlan Charters’ grandfather. Mr. Charters’ mother came from the Livingstone clan in central Scotland.” Tears formed in the corner of Cashé’s eyes. “Mr. Charters once told me that the man’s parents named him Boyd because he was a tow-headed child. Boyd is a Gaelic word for blond. The man who took Satiné is the one to whom Uncle Samuel once promised me. Mr. Charters thinks Satiné is I.” Cashé began to visibly shake with dread. “He came after me,” she whispered.
“What does Ashton know of Viscount Averette? Why did Lord Averette leave you behind? Help me to assist Satiné.”
Silent sobs shook her shoulders. “I did not know until today,” she murmured. “I returned from the ride to discover for myself why Uncle Charles took Lord Averette’s letter. I only recently recalled the incident, and it has haunted my days.” Cashé looked deep into Kerrington’s eyes. “The baron believes Uncle Samuel had something to do with my parents’ death.”
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Kerrington muffled his curse. “Will you show me what you found?” he encouraged. “Whatever Ashton knows has put your sister in danger. You must realize, Cashémere, that I want only to protect Satiné.”
“But Mr. Charters will not hurt Satiné,” she protested. “He will release her when he discovers my sister is not I.”
Kerrington caught her hand in his. “Satiné is ruined. Too many people know of her disappearance. Our only hope is to rescue her as quickly as possible, but I cannot do that if I do not know what I am facing.”
“Satiné will be devastated; she has looked forward to her Come Out for two years.” Cashé rose quickly to her feet. “Follow me,” she said, taking Worthing’s hand. “The papers are in uncle’s study.
As Lord Worthing read the letter first and then returned it to its place in the family Bible, Cashé impatiently paced the open space before the desk. Finally, he had read through the bundled file. “Well, tell me.”
“You shan’t like it,” Kerrington warned.
Cashé stopped suddenly. “Nevertheless, I must know.”
“This is a statement from a wheelwright. There is evidence that the spokes on your parents’ carriage had been cut. Each broke at the same precise angle,” he explained.
“That does not mean Uncle Samuel was to blame,” Cashé challenged.
Kerrington continued, “That is true, but the baron found other clues leading to a group of men, among them one Lachlan Charters. These men once enthusiastically followed the teachings of Thomas Chalmers, but they have found a way to make money from the parochial system Chalmers advocated to service the poor.”
Although Cashé knew quite well that Lord Worthing spoke the truth, she vehemently declared, “That is impossible!” She had read the file herself, but now it made perfect sense. Cashé stood completely still. In defeat, she asked, “How do we stop them from hurting Satiné?”