Realm 03 - A Touch of Cashemere

by Regina Jeffers

  Breeson rented a curricle, the only available vehicle, and placed Cashé in it. It would be a long, cold ride, but he could not allow Miss Aldridge out of his sight until he had delivered her to Wellston.

  *

  Eleanor’s heart did a complete somersault. “I am Eleanor Kerrington, Lady Worthing.” Her voice encouraged his memory.

  “You…you are married to Worthing? When did that occur?” Lexford purposely slid his gaze over her obviously pregnant form. “Where is the captain? I would see him now.”

  Eleanor’s face held her dismay. “You remember nothing of what has happened?”

  “I remember returning home from the East with Kerrington and Wellston.” Lexford’s anxiousness grew by the moment. “What else should I know?”

  Eleanor softened her expression. “Allow we to freshen the water so I might tend your wound, and then I will return to tell you what I know.”

  Lexford nodded his agreement and released her wrist. His eyes followed the woman about the room. He could not imagine that Kerrington would choose this woman. She was too tall–too regal–too blonde for his friend’s tastes. He might think his former captain had seduced the lady and had brought her to child, and that resorted in a speedy marriage in Gretna Green. Yet, that was impossible for they had been in England for less than a month.

  When the woman returned to his bedside, she had placed a new compress on his head and then took up his hand in her two. Capturing his gaze, she said, “As I said, I am Eleanor Kerrington, but before I married Viscount Worthing, I was Eleanor Fowler.”

  “Brantley Fowler’s sister?”

  She tilted her head to look at him curiously. “I am, and Bran is now the Duke of Thornhill and has married our cousin.”

  “The infamous Velvet Aldridge?” he asked with a bit of a taunt.

  She smiled at him. “The very one.”

  *

  The sound of a small carriage in the drive brought Marcus to his feet and moving toward the door. When it swung open, the night and several lanterns brought two shadowy figures. One he recognized immediately as that of Richard Breeson, but although he could not make out the countenance or even the form of the second, his heart knew her. “Cashé,” he spoke her name aloud before taking off at a run. He reached the entrance steps just as Breeson handed her from the rented curricle. As he skidded to a stop, her head turned in his direction, and everything froze in place. Marcus felt the silly grin spread across his face, but he did not care. She was here at last.

  “I brought you a gift, Lord Yardley,” Breeson called from his place beside the carriage.

  Marcus chuckled, “You will do anything for another pay raise, Breeson.” His eyes devoured her.

  “I did not think I could top the last token.” Breeson chuckled.

  Marcus took the last few steps to where she stood, a look of anticipation on her face. “You have outdone yourself, my Friend.” He raised his hand to cup her chin, lifting it to see her eyes reflected in the lantern light. He whispered only for her ears, “I did not think to ever see you at my home.” And that was all it took. Cashé launched herself into Marcus’s embrace. Sobs wracked her body, and Marcus laced his arms about her, pulling Cashé closer. “What is it, Sweetheart?” he coaxed. “Tell me, Cashé, and I will move mountains to set it right.”

  Biting back another round of tears, she raised her gaze to meet his. “I have ruined everything,” she wailed. “Satiné and Lord Lexford and Uncle Charles and you and me. Everything is ruined.” Tears exploded in another round of sobs.

  Marcus bent at the knees and gently scooped her into his arms. “Breeson,” he called over his shoulder. “I require an explanation.” He walked slowly up the front steps, cuddling Cashé to him. “Mr. Spear, bring tea and brandy and something to eat to my study.”

  “Yes, Your Lordship.”

  Cashé laced her arms about Marcus’s neck, pulling herself closer. “Do not leave me,” she rasped.

  “Never, Ma Chère.” He nuzzled her neck. “Never in a million years.”

  As Marcus cradled Cashé on his lap, stroking her back and arm, Breeson explained what he knew of Cashé’s attack. She had shared with his former batman how she had outmaneuvered her two young attackers, and Marcus’s friend relayed the tale as Cashé silently clung to Marcus for comfort. His heart swelled with pride when he had heard of how she outsmarted the men, and it lurched with anger at knowing what she had been through.

  “Thank you, Breeson,” Marcus said softly. “I am forever in your debt for seeing to Miss Aldridge’s safety. I will trust you to administer an appropriate lesson to Mr. Jordan and Mr. Stayne. I will take some pleasure in our visitors learning how a gentleman treats a lady.”

  Breeson smiled knowingly. “I thought you might.” His friend stood to take his leave. “I will leave you to your reunion, Lord Yardley.”

  Marcus nodded his farewell and then shifted Cashé in his arms. “Do you feel safe enough to tell me what has happened, Sweetheart? I need to know why you were traveling alone. Where is your sister? What of Lord Lexford?” As he listened to Breeson’s tale, Marcus had tried to imagine what circumstances would have driven Cashé to take to the road alone. Had Lexford demanded her hand? Had Satiné changed her mind about the viscount? The last Marcus knew of the situation, Lexford was to call at Chesterfield Manor, and the ladies were to perform a switch to convince the viscount that he had chosen the wrong twin.

  Cashé swallowed hard and started to move away from his embrace, but Marcus refused to relinquish her long enough even to sit beside him. “I do not know where to begin.” She glanced to the left and then back to his steady gaze. “Uncle Charles was summoned to London. He departed Cheshire on Wednesday, and Lord Lexford came to stay at the manor house.” Marcus listened carefully. He had known that Shepherd had requested a personal meeting with the baron.

  “Satiné and I executed our switches, and His Lordship knew nothing of the change. Therefore, we decided to arrange a day for Lexford and Satiné to be alone. That was Friday.”

  Marcus privately began to calculate when she must have departed Cheshire. “And?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Satiné and Lord Lexford rode out together after I returned to house. His Lordship thought Satiné was I.” She paused and took a deep breath. “When they did not return after several hours, I sent out search parties. Two groomsmen found the viscount knocked unconscious, but Satiné was not recovered.” Again, Cashé paused, but this time she caught Marcus’s hand in hers. “I had no idea what to do so I sent word to Lord Worthing.”

  “Kerrington came, did he not?” Marcus traced lines across her wrist with his fingertip.

  “Lord Worthing rushed to my side and took over the investigation.” Cashé looked away. “When His Lordship asked of our relationship, I confirmed our connection. I pray I have not displeased you.”

  Marcus kissed the top of her head. “Kerrington had his suspicions when we were at Linton Park. It is of no consequence. The last few days have convinced me that I cannot allow you to know another–even if it means the loss of Lexford’s friendship.”

  “When I departed Cheshire, His Lordship, still had not recovered.

  “If Kerrington arrived, why did you feel it necessary to go to Scotland?” It hurt that Cashé had not thought to come to him. The knowledge, that if not for Breeson, he might not now hold her in his arms ate away at Marcus.

  “I felt I had to make the effort to save Satiné. I am sorry, my Lord. I had no desire to hurt you, but Lord Worthing and I discovered the name of the man we suspected of kidnapping Satiné. It was Lachlan Charters. He took Satiné, thinking my sister was I. I must be to Leith to keep Mr. Charters from hurting Satiné when he discovers the truth.”

  Marcus’s stomach knotted. “You will not give yourself to that man!” Now he understood her impulsive reasoning.

  Tears formed. “I may have no choice.” Her bottom lip trembled.

  “I will help you rescue your sister, but you belong with me, Cashéme
re.” He turned her chin to face him. “My life began again when Shepherd sent me to intercept Jamot. I will no longer live in the void, and neither shall you.” He knew he did not have the full story, but he would continue to ask questions until she had told him everything. Tomorrow, they would deal with her crisis. Tonight, he would see Cashé safe in his home. “Let us find you a room for this evening. You must be exhausted.”

  “Would you stay with me?” she asked innocently.

  “Are you certain, my Love? I would not have you the subject of more gossip than what has already occurred.” His fingers traced her jaw line.

  Cashé laughed lightly. “I believe I am beyond that point already. Besides, if I am fair game for the gossip-mongers, then I wish to know the pleasure of what I am accused.”

  “I will not defile you, but I would cherish holding you in my arms. I have dreamed of such since I discovered your loveliness.”

  Cashé smiled. “As opposed to my irascible nature?”

  “I was blind. Do not remind me of my short sightedness.”

  “Take me to your bed, Marcus.”

  He stood, lifting Cashé to him. “We will have tonight.”

  *

  Her “very large” abductor sat across from Satiné on the coach’s bench. She had fought for a lucid thought, but nothing came. Her eyes fluttered open and then closed again.

  “We be home by nightfall, gel,” he told her; yet, Satiné no longer held a concept of home. “If’n ye be promisin’ not to fight me, I will give ye no more of the water.”

  Satiné tried to make her lips form the words, but all she could do was to lift the fingers on her left hand before drifting into the darkness.

  Chapter 15

  Eleanor sat quietly beside Lexford’s bed. She had spent an hour speaking of what she knew of the viscount’s life, but her knowledge was limited to the present–the past year. Other than a few stories her husband had shared, she knew nothing of the previous two years of Lord Lexford’s life. Now, he slept quietly–his brow furrowed in doubt. She had assured him that his memory would return when he had fully recovered, and then he had turned his head to face the other way, closing his eyes and accepting sleep. The viscount had nothing to say, and that worried Eleanor more than his condition. It was as if he had lost more than his memory: He had lost that spark in his eyes–the one she first saw in a stranger who had protected her at Gavin Bradley’s hunting box.

  As he slept, Eleanor penned letters to both her brother and to Sir Carter, explaining Lexford’s condition, Satiné’s situation, Cashé’s disappearance, and her husband’s quest. She begged for assistance–begged them to bring a more competent physician to attend their friend.

  *

  Cashé had told him of her Uncle Charles’s suspicions regarding her parents’ death and of Lord Worthing’s belief that Viscount Averette had manipulated the church funds for his own benefit. Marcus had known part of what she had confided, but that was not what bothered him as he held her in his arms. It was when she confessed, “No one has ever wanted me.” Now, as she slept spooned in his embrace, all he could think of was how vulnerable she was and how much he loved her.

  Streaks of light had summoned the dawn as Marcus gently shoved the hair from her face and kissed her cheek gently. “Come, Sweetheart,” he whispered close to her ear. “We must be on the road soon.”

  Cashé turned over, burying her face in his chest. “Mmm,” she moaned. “I would rather stay here with you.” She kissed the indentation of his throat.

  Marcus’s breath hitched in his chest. He had fought his lust throughout the night, but now it had returned. “Ah, my Love, I can imagine nothing better.” Marcus tightened his embrace. “But we both know neither of us will be happy unless we see this through.”

  Cashé stiffened. “What if at the end I must stay in Scotland?”

  Marcus tilted her chin upward where he might observe her countenance. “Cashémere Aldridge, you are going to be my countess. I will tolerate nothing less.” He kissed her cheek. “You are compromised by traveling alone, and, more so, by spending the night in my bed.” Marcus brought her close again. “And although it has taken, to this point, a Herculean effort to resist your many charms, I will gladly crumble under the temptation in order to secure everyone’s cooperation.”

  Marcus could hear the smile in her voice. “You want us to marry, my Lord?”

  He smiled too. “I will have no other.”

  *

  Jamot had ridden throughout the night and part of the day before seeking a surgeon in a small village some ten miles south of the Scottish border. He had cursed Lady Worthing for the physical pain she had caused him, but as he lay on the makeshift examining table in the surgeon’s home, he had thought more positively of the lady. Eleanor Fowler Kerrington had steel in her spine. She had confronted him, wrestled valiantly with him, and had taken a clear shot. Few English women of his acquaintance held such temerity. Jamot had thought Ashmita could have learned a great deal from Fowler’s sister. “A lover’s quarrel,” he told the doctor when the man asked him how he had earned the wound.

  “The bullet when through the fleshy part of your arm. You are lucky that the lady did not aim for your heart.”

  Jamot laughed lightly. “A man must have a heart for that to happen.”

  *

  “It would be better if we go overland on horseback,” Marcus shared as he and Cashé took a simple breakfast together in his chambers. “Do you think you could tolerate several hours in the saddle?”

  Cashé looked a bit alarmed. “I am not a very good rider,” she confided.

  “I remember,” he teased. “I was to teach you–part of my personal list of firsts with the lovely Cashémere Aldridge.”

  Cashé blushed, but she added, “Might I try a regular saddle?”

  Her request should have shocked Marcus, but somehow he thought it fit her: unconventional. “I suppose I might find you some breeches and a shirt from one of my grooms.”

  Cashé smiled broadly. “You never tell me that I cannot do something just because I am a woman.”

  Marcus stood to ring for a servant. “That is because you are my woman, and I am amazed daily by your bravado.” He gently kissed her lips. “While we wait a servant to find you something appropriate to wear, let us go downstairs. I want you to meet Trevor and Jeremy.” He extended his hand to her.

  Cashé eagerly followed Marcus to the morning room. “Good day,” he called as he entered the room. “How are you this morning, Trevor?”

  Jeremy Ingram scrambled to his feet, lightly punching Trevor’s side as a reminder of Trevor’s manners. “Good morning, Your Lordship,” Jeremy intoned, while Trevor sported an extra large grin.

  “Gentlemen, this is Miss Aldridge. She arrived late yesterday evening under Mr. Breeson’s protection. Miss Aldridge, might I present my brother Trevor Wellston and his companion, Jeremy Ingram.”

  Ingram bowed again without comment, but Trevor said it all, “She is pretty. Just like you said, Marcus.”

  Cashé blushed, but she teased, “You told your brother that I was pretty, Your Lordship?”

  Marcus tightened his grip on her hand. “My brother has forgotten his manners,” he warned good-naturedly. “That is no way to greet a lady, Trevor.”

  Trevor bowed obediently. “I am pleased for your acquaintance, Miss Aldridge.”

  “Are you avoiding my question, Lord Yardley?” she taunted.

  Marcus spontaneously brought the back of her hand to his lips. “You know what I think of your appearance, my Dear. Quit fishing for a compliment.”

  Cashé’s laughter warmed his heart. “Yet, it was you, my Lord, who taught me to fish.”

  “Very true.” He touched the tip of her nose with a gentle flick, before turning his attention to his brother. “Trevor, Miss Aldridge and I are riding to her Scottish home to settle a situation regarding her sister. I will return late tomorrow or the next day. You are not to worry.”

  “Yes, Marcus.” Tr
evor shot a quick glance to Cashé. “Will Miss Aldridge be returning with you? You said that the lady previously lived in Scotland.”

  Marcus pulled Cashé closer to him. “Miss Aldridge will return to Tweed Hall. It is my intention to make the lady part of our family. It is been too long since we have had a feminine touch in this house. Do you not agree?”

  “Definitely. Miss Aldridge, you must marry Marcus. He has been a real grump of late,” Trevor shared.

  Cashé smiled broadly at Trevor’s description of Marcus. “I would wish for nothing more than to be your new sister, Trevor.”

  “A sister!” Trevor barked. “I did not think of that.”

  Marcus interrupted. “We must leave for Edinburgh. Jeremy, you should continue Trevor’s lessons, as always. Come along, Cashémere. Our task needs completing before we can become a family.”

  *

  Charters guided the carriage into the stable overhang behind the small cottage, a quarter mile from his main house. As he had planned, dusk had covered his return. Before he secured the girl, he unharnessed the horses and set out oats. Then he retrieved the woman he would make his wife. “Come, gel,” he ordered, grabbing Satiné’s arm and pulling her across the seat where he might find a better hold.

  Lifting her roughly, Charters carried her to the cottage. “Ye be stayin’ here for a few days until I apply for a license for us.” He dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed. “There be food and water on the table, a chamber pot in the corner, as well as more water so ye can wash yerself, and clean clothes behind the screen. I will not return until t’morrow.” He gently touched her face with his fingertips. “You cannot escape,” he told her. Charters draped two blankets over her. “It be colder here than in Manchester, but ye be knowin’ that already, Cashémere.” Then, closing and locking the door, he left her inside the little room.