Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet

by Regina Jeffers

  “Fascinating,” Aunt Agatha remarked. “You are well versed in India’s recent history, Your Grace.”

  “I made my fortune by being well versed,” he quipped.

  “But why a stone from the temple?” Velvet redirected his attention.

  “Shaivites are very devout believers. Ashmita took the stone with her when she left her home. When she was dying, she wanted Sonali to have it–have a part of India. After delivering her daughter, Ashmita worked on the doll each day–painting and sewing. I brought her scraps of material from the market for the blouse and wrap. She directed all her energies–as little as were remaining–to complete the task. The day Ashmita finished the doll she passed.”

  Although she had nothing upon which to base her assumptions, Velvet wondered why Bran said her daughter, not our daughter. Somehow it seemed significant. “I cannot imagine living in another country. Could you, Ella?”

  “I have always wanted to see other parts of the world–other parts of England, even.”

  Bran nodded his understanding. His sister resisted coming to London for the Season because she wanted her independence. That is why, of late, he had come to the conclusion that James Kerrington would be perfect for Ella. Kerrington would give Ella the “freedom” she required while teaching her marriage had its advantages. Bran would see her happy before long.

  Velvet looked directly at Bran, willing him to understand her response. “I would be content to remain in Kent forever. My sisters are in Manchester and in Edinburgh, but I prefer the eastern coastline of England to any other place.”

  *

  “Your Grace, you asked that I inform you immediately if Sir Louis called on Lady Eleanor.” The gentle giant of a footman stood humbly in the doorway of Bran’s study.

  “Thank you, Murray.”

  The footman bowed and disappeared into the bowels of the house. Bran ambled casually towards the blue sitting room. If Levering tarried, Bran would interrupt. Outside the room, he listened to the tone of his sister’s voice as he waited behind the open doorway. Levering, obviously, made her uncomfortable: Bran heard the strain in Ella’s voice.

  Aware that Eleanor gave her regrets to end the meeting, Bran slipped into the music room across the hall. Leaving the door open enough where he might observe Levering, he waited in the empty room until Sir Louis left the house. He took note of the self-satisfied smile on Levering’s countenance as he left the sitting room. Like the cat licking the cream.

  Once the outside door closed, Ella appeared in the doorway. She looked cautiously towards the main entrance before she tentatively stepped into the hallway. Although she had tried to hide them, Ella’s hands trembled as she reached for her handkerchief under the cuff of her left sleeve. Pressing the cloth to her mouth, Ella closed her eyes and nearly collapsed. She swayed in place, and Bran took a step forward to comfort her; but Ella’s eyes opened suddenly. She looked left and right, rolled her shoulders back, took a deep breath, and headed towards her chambers.

  Bran considered confronting her, but he instinctively knew Ella would tell him nothing. He required more information regarding Levering before he could move on the man. Bran wanted nothing of what Sir Louis Levering offered.

  *

  The marquis and Worthing joined the party at the Haverton musicale. Although less than a fortnight away, the Season was not yet upon them, but the Dowager Duchess deemed it acceptable as long as the cousins remained in Brantley’s company. As their guardian and their chaperone, respectively, Bran and Aunt Agatha provided his ladies respectability.

  Kerrington quickly cornered Eleanor, claiming her attentions for the evening.

  “Lord Worthing claims our Eleanor’s attentions again,” Aunt Agatha hissed under her breath.

  “I have no objections. Eleanor seems pleased with Lord Worthing’s manipulations, and I would be proud to call him brother. It would be an excellent match.” Bran watched his friend seat Ella behind them; the viscount never placed his sister in a position to receive censure. He simply spent time with Eleanor. Bran understood Kerrington’s point. He felt that way about Velvet. The most mundane things took on importance if Velvet was near. Besides, his sister glowed under James Kerrington’s attention.

  *

  “May I offer you a lemonade, Miss Aldridge?” Crowden handed her a glass from the refreshment table.

  “Thank you, Lord Godown.” She took a sip of the drink before beginning the speech she had rehearsed during the day. “I wish to apologize to you, Your Lordship, for my cousin’s behavior yesterday. It was unseemly of him to offer you an offense.”

  The marquis laughed lightly. “It was typical of His Grace’s and my relationship. We have always had...a healthy competitiveness. It did not upset me nor did it affect my opinion of you, fair Lady.”

  She enjoyed Lord Godown’s natural seductiveness. Although an innocent, Velvet felt no intimidation. In fact, she felt quite safe in Crowden’s care. His Lordship’s connection to Bran assured her safety.

  She had considered encouraging the flirtation, but Velvet had later decided she would be honest. “It is my wish, Lord Godown, to capture my cousin’s attention, and it is manipulative of me to encourage you. His Grace, I fear, is a stubborn man.”

  “I believe the man has met his match, Miss Aldridge.” Gabriel directed her to a private area, where they might speak more freely. “Lord Worthing has warned me of your plans regarding your cousin, my Lady. If you truly wish my assistance, I would enjoy vexing the new Duke of Thornhill.”

  “Oh, Lord Godown, I could not be so cruel to you or to my cousin,” she declared.

  “Why not?” Gabriel demanded. “If yesterday is any indication of the mixed emotions Fowler displays with you, His Grace deserves your perfidy.”

  Velvet’s eyes grew in surprise. “Do you speak truly, my Lord?”

  “A little frustration with no expectation; I believe, I would enjoy that very much, Miss Aldridge. Although my family wishes me to marry and set up my nursery, I am of the persuasion that I need more time to become comfortable with being the Marquis of Godown. Offering my attentions to you would give the impression that I honestly took their advice to heart, with no engagement, in truth.”

  “Dishonesty with the appearance of honesty.”

  “Absolutely.” Crowden leaned closer. “Do we have an agreement?”

  Velvet laughed nervously. “I can think of nothing I would enjoy more.”

  “Then let the farce begin.” He offered her his arm, even cupping Velvet’s hand with his own when he spied Bran’s brows furrow with disapproval. “His Grace watches, Miss Aldridge. Why do you not give me one of your winning smiles?” Lord Godown suggested under his breath.

  Velvet did as he suggested, but she added her own special touch: She reached up to stroke his forearm with her folded fan, brushing his arm in a welcoming gesture.

  “Very nice, Miss Aldridge. You seem to know what will drive His Grace crazy with desire,” the marquis murmured behind his purposeful smile.

  “Well, thank you, Lord Godown,” she gushed in feigned admiration. “I am in awe of your insights, Sir.”

  Bran watched the interaction between Velvet and Gabriel Crowden. Of all the men she might have chosen, he cursed the idea! Although the marquis was a superior catch, Bran had never wanted her to find anyone. He had simply wanted Velvet to look around before he claimed her as his own. Bran was not certain he could beat Crowden at his own game. Godown was more charismatic when it came to women. Bran did not know which he hated to lose more: Velvet’s attention or another competition to Crowden. The thought of either made him miserable.

  Chapter 8

  The day of the Presentation found Velvet and Eleanor bedecked in the black gowns Aunt Agatha deemed necessary. The Dowager Duchess had commandeered Lord Worthing’s carriage also as the dresses were so elaborate, fitting both in one carriage became impossible. Queen Charlotte expected the gowns to have old-fashioned hoop skirts and to be worn with a stomacher, lying over the triangul
ar front panel of the stays and held in place by the gown’s lacing. Most of the young unmarried women waiting in the halls for their moment with the Queen wore white, which made Ella uneasy, but Velvet had accepted what she could not change. Low-cut and with short sleeves, the black silk, in fact, complimented her natural coloring–her coal-black hair. The single towering ostrich feather and the black veil attached with black pearl hairpins added to her exotic appeal.

  They waited in the carriages for two hours outside St. James Palace before being admitted into the too warm hallway of St. James Gallery, where they had waited another hour. As the daughter and sister of a duke, Eleanor would be among the first to be presented Grumbling under her breath about the antiquated ceremony, Velvet would wait with the others lined up in order of rank, as her parents, the Viscount and Lady Averette, were of middle importance in the nobility’s line.

  The only thing that kept her sane during the long wait was the fact that this experience was the first step in becoming Bran’s wife. As a duke, he would require a wife of whom the Queen approved. She felt better when Ella had assured her that Aunt Agatha’s idea of the black gowns had proved astute. Queen Charlotte praised Ella for observing the period of mourning and even gave her cousin permission to abandon wearing black during the Season.

  Aunt Agatha appeared beside her. “Are you prepared, Child? You shall be next.”

  “Yes, thank you, Your Grace.”

  The Dowager Duchess picked up Velvet’s ten-foot train and followed the Velvet to the Queen’s receiving room. The Duchess placed the train on the floor behind Velvet before circling her to face Velvet again. “Step to the entrance when the door opens and hand your card to the Lord Chamberlain. He shall pause for a gentleman-in-waiting to assist with your train; then he shall announce you. Count to three and slowly move forward.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Velvet licked her lips, her mouth suddenly very dry.

  The Duchess gently pinched Velvet’s cheeks to add some color. “You look beautiful, Child.” She smiled at Velvet. “I shall be close at hand.”

  Velvet nodded her understanding just as the doors swung open. She followed the Dowager’s instruction to the letter and soon she heard her name called in a clear, resonant voice. “Miss Velvet Aldridge, daughter of Edward and Chenille Aldridge and niece of Samuel and Alice Aldridge, Viscount and Viscountess Averette of Edinburgh.”

  Velvet walked with confidence–shoulders. Before the throne, she made the deep obeisance required by Queen Charlotte, as well as a lesser one to the rest of the room. Resuming her curtsy, Velvet waited for the Queen’s notice.

  A few elongated seconds later, Queen Charlotte motioned to her to stand and turned immediately to Aunt Agatha. “Another presentation, Your Grace?”

  “My dear sister raised Miss Aldridge as one of her own since the age of three when Edward Aldridge and his viscountess passed following a carriage accident. Miss Aldridge is currently under the Duke of Thornhill’s guardianship, Your Majesty.”

  “Your relationship to the duke?” the Queen turned to Velvet.

  “My late father, Her Grace, and the former Lady Fowler were cousins, Your Majesty. The current Viscount Averette, my father’s youngest brother, was barely more than a child himself when he succeeded to the title. He was unable to care for three small children on his own so I came to Thorn Hall to reside. That was some sixteen years prior.”

  “You have sisters, Miss Aldridge?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. My sister Cashémere lives in Edinburgh with the Averettes. Satiné resides in Manchester with a maternal uncle, Baron Ashton.”

  “And do you grieve for Thornhill?” the Queen’s voice rose in a question of whether Velvet played the true mourner.

  Velvet lowered her eyes, daring not to challenge her monarch. “I love the Averettes and my sisters, Your Majesty, but the Duke and Duchess of Thornhill are my family. They accepted me in their home; they treated me as a second daughter. Cashémere and Satiné are my sisters in blood, but Lady Eleanor Fowler is the sister of my heart. I grieve for William Fowler for the kindnesses he showed me over the years.”

  “Excellent answer, Miss Aldridge. You will do well in London. As with your cousin, tell Thornhill that wearing black for the Season is not necessary.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Realizing her time at an end, Velvet stepped forward to kiss Queen Charlotte’s outstretched hand. Then pausing briefly for another gentleman-in-waiting to drape the train over her arm, Velvet backed from the room.

  *

  James Kerrington sat in Bran’s study, having drifted there following a very frustrating time with Ella. He had needed to vent his feelings, and Bran readily accepted his motives. “Please tell me you are doing something about Sir Louis!”

  “Afraid of competition, Worthing?” Bran sank into a chair across from the viscount.

  “If your sister preferred Sir Louis, I would gladly bow out, but you cannot convince me, Your Grace, that the man does not irritate your sense of propriety.”

  Bran dropped his smile. “Enough to make me want to bury him in the nearest pit of quicksand.”

  “So, you have done something?” his friend confirmed.

  “I hired several Bow Street runners to research Sir Louis’s lifestyle. I have the initial report,” Bran conceded.

  Worthing took a deep breath. “Anything I should know?”

  “Lots of debts. Some unsavory companions.”

  “What are we telling Lady Eleanor?”

  Bran tapped his fingers lightly on his chair arm. “Nothing, At least, not yet. I require more information.”

  “Well, if you do not do something soon, you may add the word ‘deceased” to your report. I will not have him upsetting Lady Eleanor!”

  “Are you declaring yourself, Worthing?” Bran’s amusement made his eyes jump with pleasure.

  James Kerrington ignored Bran’s taunt. “I will not honor that remark with a response. Yet, you know I speak the truth!”

  “I agree, Worthing.” Bran took on a serious mien. “Sir Louis will not compromise Ella’s happiness.”

  *

  Additional day outings had occupied the ladies’ time, but no more attacks had occurred. Wanting to resolve the issue of his family’s safety, Bran’s frustration rose as the investigation hit a dead end. The regular presence of the Marquis of Godown in the Briar House’s sitting room also thwarted Bran’s peace of mind. Velvet, obviously, enjoyed Gabriel Crowden’s company, and each of their well-chaperoned forays into Society had kept Bran’s nerves as taut as he had ever remembered their being. Just this morning he had asked to lead her onto the floor for the first set at the Caperton’s ball this evening, but Velvet had refused, saying she had promised the set to Crowden. Of course, he should dance with Ella first, but Bran had impetuously wanted to use the opportunity to identify Velvet as his. His possessive nature had flared every time she took Godown’s arm. Now, he had to settle for the set after supper as Velvet’s dance card had filled before she even made an appearance on Oxford Street.

  Ella promised two sets to James Kerrington, an indication Worthing had openly declared his intentions towards Bran’s sister. Bran had found this idea more comforting than what he had expected. Having observed Ella’s initial discomfort at the thoughts of the Season, how much she had become involved in the activities, essentially because of Worthing’s attentions, spoke volumes about a man Bran already admired.

  *

  Aunt Agatha paved the way for the last hurdle for Velvet’s and Eleanor’s social debuts. The week the beau monde returned to London, the Dowager Duchess hosted her first bi-weekly at home. With Briar House long in nonuse, those in town had easily accepted, wishing to see for themselves that Thornhill had survived the previous duke’s scandalous ways. Lady Jersey and Princess Esterhazy, two of Almack’s infamous patronesses, had graced the gathering, making the Dowager Duchess’s first social remarkably successful. As a result of Aunt Agatha’s manipulations, both Eleanor and Velvet had received the
required acknowledgment: a voucher for Almack’s first gathering of the new Season. Having passed “inspection,” both ladies could now accept invitations to waltz in public. With the news, Velvet had anticipated being held by Bran, their bodies in close proximity. Just the thought of it left her breathless. Without the patronesses’ acceptance, neither Eleanor nor Velvet could partake in what was considered a scandalous display by many of the older sect. Generally, no more than two waltz sets occurred at any of the best outings. For the Caperton ball, Velvet saved one of her waltzes for Godown, but the after supper one she purposely reserved for Bran. “Let us see how Bran reacts when he must hold me in his arms.”

  *

  The Caperton’s ball was a major crush in the early Season. Bran had escorted his three ladies, following other members of the nobility up the steep staircase and through the receiving line. He had walked with Aunt Agatha, but he was very aware of the gentlemen watching Eleanor and Velvet as they trailed closely behind him. Taking Queen Charlotte at her word, both wore the traditional white gowns associated with those making their Come Out. Velvet’s coloring contrasted well with the purest white, and he marveled at the creamy texture of her skin. Entering the ballroom, they met Worthing and Godown, as usual.

  “Your Grace,” Kerrington bowed to Aunt Agatha and Bran, before placing Ella on his arm.

  Worthing’s presence obviously delighted Eleanor, but Godown’s constant company had begun to wear on Bran’s nerves. He had wanted to claim Velvet as his, especially now that she had received an acknowledgment from both the Queen and from Almack’s patronesses. Bran watched as Godown removed Velvet from their party. “Damn,” he hissed under his breath as Velvet wrapped her arm through the marquis’s.

  “Easy, Bran,” Ella whispered.

  He turned his head to take in his sister’s closeness. “Am I that obvious?” he asked with a sigh.