Velvet made no response, but she squeezed Ella’s hand in understanding. “Let us do the Royal Academy,” she whispered. “I shall become lost, and you may spend time alone with His Lordship.”
*
Velvet watched from the far corner as James Kerrington took Ella’s hand. She had no idea of what they spoke, but they were deep in conversation. Obviously, the man admired her cousin. She could easily imagine the two of them together; they perfectly suited–like the couples in her Minerva Press novels. When they stood, Kerrington caressed Ella’s check. He appeared to try to comfort her. Velvet would give anything to have Bran touch her as such. She would fall into his arms even if they stood as Eleanor and Kerrington now did in the middle of the Royal Academy. Seeing them approach, Velvet pretended an interest in a display of Lawrence’s works.
“Velvet,” Ella came up behind her. “Are you prepared to leave?”
“If you are, Cousin.” Velvet shot a quick glance at Ella’s countenance; distress lingered; however, before she could make a comment, Kerrington ushered them towards the exit.
His coach waited, and in moments, they rolled through London’s busy streets. “Might I tempt you Ladies with an ice from Gunter’s?” She observed the viscount’s efforts to win Eleanor’s affections.
Velvet rallied behind Worthing’s efforts to prolong their excursion. “What do you think, Ella?” she offered, realizing that she wanted Bran’s closest friend on her side. “I have no objection to a decadent treat from Gunter’s. I have heard they are delicious.”
*
When they returned to Briar House, Sonali greeted them, catapulting herself into Ella’s welcoming arms. Velvet envied the ease with which Eleanor interacted with Bran’s child. She had wanted to like the girl–in fact, she had thought Sonali quite beautiful–yet, the child was a walking reminder of Bran’s betrayal. Could she put it behind her and accept the girl? Ella was right: Bran would choose no one who could not love his daughter. She had to try. Besides formulating a plan to win Bran, she would need to also win Sonali’s heart–or, at least, her acceptance.
Noting Sonali’s dragging Ella towards Bran’s study, Velvet seized the opportunity to put the first stage of her plan in place. Taking Worthing’s arm, she led him to the same drawing room as earlier. She had wanted a private conversation with His Lordship–something she had worked out in her head during the hour she “lost” herself in the museum. “Lord Worthing, I wish to speak to you,” Velvet announced quite unexpectedly.
“Of course, Miss Aldridge.” He allowed her to lead him to the empty room’s privacy.
Velvet had never spoken to the man beyond polite conversation; now she would plead for his cooperation in her manipulation of his closest friend. Realistically, she worried over his response. Yet, swallowing her angst, she plowed ahead. “You shall think me quite forward, Sir, but desperation makes me so.” Velvet crossed to the window and motioned for him to follow. When he had moved beside her, she explained. “I have been in love with Brantley Fowler since I was eight years old,” she proclaimed before he even came to a stand still. “You shall think me foolish, but I have no time to debate the fact. And it is my belief, you know how Bran feels about me.”
Worthing simply smiled and bade her to continue.
“Bran has it in his mind that he must permit me to choose another in order to protect me or because he thinks that will make us even or some such foolishness. I suspect you know the truth of his marriage, but I shall not ask you to divulge Bran’s secrets. I do not care about five years ago; I care about now.” Velvet rushed through the words, expecting to be interrupted at any moment. “I want Brantley Fowler, and I shall do anything to win him.”
“And you are telling me this for what purpose, Miss Aldridge?”
“Because you, Lord Worthing, are going to assist me in devising a way to penetrate Bran’s stubbornness and to make him understand that I am the one woman for him.” She placed her fists on her hips and dared Worthing to dispute her.
Hearing a footman in the hallway, the viscount glanced towards the open door. “Without betraying His Grace, I suspect Fowler already knows you are the right woman, Miss Aldridge.”
“However, I must destroy his mantle of honor,” she asserted, holding his perceptive stare.
“And how do you propose to do that?”
“Make him jealous.”
Worthing laughed lightly. “Poor Fowler. He has no idea what awaits him.”
“You will not tell him!” A moment of anxiousness escaped.
“I will keep your secret, Miss Aldridge.”
“Good,” she declared confidently. “Now, Lord Worthing, I require someone with whom to flirt.”
He held up his hands to stop her. “I will not be a part of your plan in that manner, Miss Aldridge.”
“Of course not, Your Lordship. Actually, I thought of you originally, but then I saw how you look at Ella.”
“How...how I look at Lady Eleanor?” he stammered. “How do you think I look at your cousin?”
Velvet’s eyes lit up with amusement. “Like you want to hold her and never let go.”
He paused before responding. “Am I that obvious?”
“Only to those who are looking for love.”
“What do you require of me, Miss Aldridge?” She noted his shift in demeanor.
“Assist me in finding someone to make Bran insanely jealous–enough that he will declare himself rather than let me go.”
Lord Worthing hesitated before answering. “Fowler may have supplied his own undoing. I know just the man. Gabriel Crowden, the Marquis of Godown. He and Bran are so competitive–whether it be cards or swords or clothing....”
“Or women?”
“I have never known them to compete over a woman, but I imagine it would be so. Surprisingly, they were at the university together before joining me in our adventures. Crowden is more dangerous than Fowler; do not forget my warning on that point, Miss Aldridge.”
Velvet looked satisfied with her thoughts. “Would the marquis assist me?”
“If it meant bedeviling His Grace, I suspect Godown would be willing.”
“Would you speak to Lord Godown on my behalf? Seek out his assistance?” she implored.
He appeared to weigh her request. “What do I receive from all this?”
“More time alone with my cousin.” Velvet walked away from him. “You really did not think I became lost this afternoon, did you, my Lord?”
The viscount looked surprised. “No, Miss Aldridge, I suppose I did not.”
“Then I have your assent, Sir?”
“Most definitely, Miss Aldridge. Operation Velvet Touch is underway,” he teased.
Velvet’s smile grew with the thought. “Oooh! I like that, Lord Worthing. Operation Velvet Touch! Perfect!”
Moments later, Ella appeared at the drawing room door, bringing a request from Bran for Worthing to attend him in his study. Ironically, as Worthing started past her cousin, Ella shifted minutely towards him, and the man froze in place. Velvet could not tell what Ella did to control his movement, but her cousin flirted in a manner Velvet had never expected Ella to know. If he was a puppet, Ella controlled His Lordship’s strings.
The scene mesmerized Velvet as much as it obviously did Lord Worthing. She wanted that type of a connection with Bran. She wanted to know all the tricks to make him love her. Somehow she needed to maneuver Bran alone: They lacked the connection Eleanor held with Worthing. Velvet assumed the desire evident between her cousin and the viscount came from all their moments alone–riding across the estate, long walks in the gardens, playing games of chess. Privacy could be her salvation.
When she finally released him, Eleanor turned to Velvet. “Aunt Agatha wishes for us to meet her in her sitting room.”
Velvet moved at last, catching up with Ella as they climbed the stairs. “That was some display of flirting,” Velvet sniggered. “How did you learn to do that?”
“Do what?” Ella asked, confused.
&nbs
p; Velvet whispered, not wishing the servants to hear. “Hold a man’s interest so intently.”
Ella responded with surprise, “Did I do that?”
“As well as any woman would ever do.” Velvet squeezed Ella’s hand. “I need to start taking notes.”
“It was great fun. I did not plan it.” Ella smiled all at once. “Lord Worthing makes me feel different–like I could be pretty.”
“You are pretty,” Velvet insisted.
Ella shook her head. “I am a duke’s daughter; that is what I provide a suitor–but with, His Lordship, I feel he sees me–not my father, or Bran, or the dukedom. Is that bizarre?”
“That, dear Cousin, is love.”
*
“So, Shepherd believes Shaheed Mir seeks revenge for our foray all those years ago?” Worthing sipped on a brandy. Bran and Kerrington worked well together over the years; they complemented each other’s style.
“Until of late, we kept our identities to a minimum. Now, each of us claims our place in British society.”
Uncomfortably, Worthing asked. “What does your family know of Ashmita?”
“Not the truth, if that is what you ask.” Bran refused to say more.
Worthing paused for a long time. “And Shepherd’s contacts found out what exactly?”
“Mir claims one of us walked out of that confrontation with an emerald the size of a man’s fist. The Baloch wants it back.”
“An emerald?” Worthing found this amusing. “Who had time to look for an emerald?”
Tapping them to his lips, Bran steepled his fingers before him. “I cannot see any of our men taking something of that value without the rest of us knowing.”
“I assume as you confide in me, you do not suspect I am culpable?”
“As we fought back-to-back through much of the hostilities, I cannot imagine your having the opportunity to rummage through Mir’s tents, but even if that were not true, I would never suspect you of such thievery.”
“Then what do we do next? I cringe with the knowledge that our families are in danger.”
Bran became all business like. “Although Shepherd feels, initially, that we should not mention the emerald. obviously, we need to inform the others. If one of us has it, that person would know the Realm would not look on it in a positive manner. We must ascertain whether anyone else suffered attacks similar to mine.” Worthing simply nodded his agreement, mentally putting the puzzle pieces together. Noting his friend engrossed in his thoughts, Bran took advantage and shifted his line of speech. “Now, Worthing, do you want to tell me what you know of my sister’s sleepwalking episodes?”
Kerrington shifted, unease evident. “I suppose the proper thing would be to respond in the negative, denying any knowledge of what you speak.”
“But you will not offer me such prevarications,” Bran’s tone spoke of a silent threat.
“I will not.” Bran’s noted that his close inspection obviously made Lord Worthing anxious. “I...I came upon Lady Eleanor my first night at Thorn Hall. I...I said nothing because I chose not to embarrass the lady. On two other occasions, when I found her wandering alone, I returned Lady Eleanor to her room.” Bran waited in silence to see what else Kerrington might divulge, but the viscount remained silent. “When did you discover your sister’s meanderings?” he said finally.
“Actually, I have not encountered them first hand. Eleanor’s maid sought me out before we departed Thorn Hall. As my sister’s sleepwalking incidents increased, and as no one here was aware of them, Hannah thought I should know. She let it slip about your involvement. I am not certain, Worthing, that I relish the idea of your intimacy with Ella.”
“I assure you, Your Grace, any interest I have in Lady Eleanor is purely honorable.”
“Really?” Bran set forward in his chair, resting his arms on the desk. “You affect Ella?”
Worthing swallowed hard. “If I thought Lady Eleanor would accept my plight, I would make it known immediately. As it is, I plan to be somewhat of a nuisance during her Season and pray Lady Eleanor chooses me by the end. So, Fowler, you should prepare your objections if you have any; otherwise, I will expect your permission when the time comes.”
Bran simply smiled at his friend. “I wish you success, Worthing.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” The viscount prepared to stand but stalled. “Fowler...” he paused again, “find out what happened to Lady Eleanor while you were away. Something is driving your sister from her bed.”
Bran’s head snapped up in attention. “Do you know something else about Eleanor that you are not sharing?”
“I cannot say for sure, but it seems odd to me that your sister’s somnambulant sessions stopped with your father’s passing and began again when you announced this upcoming Season. Remember her words when you told her and Miss Aldridge your plans. Your sister expects censure because of your father. There must be a connection.”
Bran let out a long sigh before following his friend to his feet. “You have given me much of which to consider, Worthing.”
“I want Lady Eleanor free of her demons, and I will do what is necessary to protect her from her past, and if required, from you.”
“Is that a threat, Worthing?”
Kerrington’s smile met his eyes. “It is a guarantee, Thornhill.”
*
“Velvet.” Bran found her in the gallery. He had said his “good nights” to Sonali, but then he found it necessary to seek out Velvet. Unexpectedly, she had made a point of connecting with his daughter. “I wanted to thank you for seeing Sonali to bed this evening. She spoke only of the bedtime story you shared.”
“It was nothing, Bran. Sonali is a delightful child. You did well by her.”
Bran paused before adding, “I do understand your hesitation in accepting Sonali. My marriage had to come as a shock.”
“I meant what I said: You did not deserve my anger. You married because it was what was necessary for you at the time. I have no right to judge.”
“However, it means the world to me that you are making efforts with Sonali. She needs a sense of family.”
Velvet edged closer, trying Ella had executed with Lord Worthing. “We all need family, Bran. I have two sisters I barely know; Ella is so much closer than either Cashémere or Satiné; Eleanor is the one to whom I turn for support. I cannot remember a time when the two of you were not my family.”
Automatically, Bran encircled her with his arms, and Velvet planted herself along his body, snuggling into his chest. He had meant to comfort her, to chase away the loneliness he had heard in her voice; but when her body touched his, he became lost to the sensation. His hands slowly moved up and down her back, his eyes clenching shut in the ecstasy of the encounter.
Neither of them spoke. It was an exquisite moment, and Velvet gloried in the knowledge that her presence disturbed him. She had wanted to offer her lips for a kiss, but she reminded herself it was too soon. She needed to find ways to recreate this embrace–this connection–daily, until it drove Bran crazy, and he claimed her for his own.
Finally, they moved apart, unable to justify their closeness any longer. “I believe I will bid the others a good night.” Her voice sounded raspy and dry.
“Good evening, my Dear.” Bran cupped her cheek with his palm.
Velvet turned her head slowly and brushed her lips across his palm. “Until the morning, Your Grace.” And then she made her grand exit.
Bran remained staring after her for several extended moments–his hand still in the air as if disengaged from the rest of his body. What just happened? he wondered.
Chapter 6
“Who do you suspect?” Bran paced Shepherd’s office, trailing along the groove others had worn in the wood over the years.
Shepherd, the only name he had ever given anyone, looked out the filthy window. “No man who ever served the Realm would place those within his unit in danger by stealing a jewel.”
“Then what happened to it? As evil as Shaheed Mir might be,
the man still possesses a sense of honesty. He truly believes one of us has it, or he would not move against us. My taking Ashmita might be a blow to his pride, but he would not concoct a story simply to revenge the taking of a woman-child, whom he deemed not worth even a rupee.” Frustrated, Bran flopped into the nearest chair, ignoring what his valet would say later.
“I cannot speak to the jewel, but we do know Mir is not in the country. However, two of his agents are. We believe Rahmat Talpur arranged the attacks on your estate, while Murhad Jamot saw to the searches at Lexford’s and Swenton’s.”
“Do we know where these agents reside?” Bran went through a mental checklist of facts.
Shepherd shuffled through some papers on his desk. “The last sightings were in Hampshire. I have a slew of agents working exclusively on this.” He handed Bran a double-paged report. “This is what we know so far.”
“May I take this with me and show it to Worthing and Godown? They escort my family today.”
“Really?” Shepherd looked surprised.
“Kerrington seems to affect my sister; I am allowing him sole access to her for the moment. It would please me to call him brother in truth.”
Shepherd offered an amused smile. “You would not be the first to form an alliance beyond the Realm’s influence. In fact, Kerrington’s sister chose Thomas Amsteadt. One must select those who truly understand what we do here.”
Bran found what Shepherd said ambiguous; none of them knew the scope of Shepherd’s influence. Fowler recognized the need to maintain a certain amount of ambiguity, but he had often wished he knew more of Shepherd’s real title and role in the government. Sensing an end of their meeting, Bran rose slowly to his feet. “You will keep me informed?”
“Need you ask?” Shepherd closed the file lying open on his desk.
Bran simply inclined his head, realizing a rhetorical question required no response. “I will see you soon.”
*
“Black?” Velvet and Eleanor exclaimed in unison.
Aunt Agatha, in her element, orchestrated the fittings for their Presentation gowns. “William Fowler passed but months ago, and Thornhill was no simple nobleman. A duke ranks just below a prince, and Queen Charlotte is a stickler about decorum. Black should be the color to show respect.”
Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet Page 10