“I am sorry,” he muttered. Bran reached to caress her cheek, but dropped his hand in frustration. “If I could change things, I would.”
“Did you love Ashmita?” she demanded suddenly.
“No.” He answered honestly for the first time in a long time. “I never loved her. She needed me; someone illused her, and I could do nothing else. I saw in my wife’s face all those women my father defiled, and I wanted to wipe away the hurt she had endured, but it was never love.” This time he did touch Velvet’s cheek. “Ashmita’s dark eyes and hair caught my attention immediately because you had haunted my dreams. Then I discovered her abuse, and I did what I thought best; I rescued her and took Ashmita to some place safe.”
“My knight in shining armor,” she said with some sadness, before turning to kiss his palm. Then Velvet looked at him–staring deeply into his eyes, seeking the truth of which she sought. “Do you think you could ever love me? I want to marry for love, Bran. I know you think I am a hopeless romantic, but I want love–I need love and lots of it. I want a man who will not treat me as an afterthought. Can you do that, Bran? Can you make me an essential part of your life?”
“And if I cannot?” he whispered.
Velvet sighed deeply. “Then you should leave for I shall settle for nothing less. It is what I deserve.”
“I have never known the kind of love of which you speak–the happily ever after. It is hard to fathom whether it even exists.” Bran looked past her.
“But you have, Bran,” she insisted. “Aunt Agatha lost her Harold too soon, but they loved each other from the beginning. My own parents died in each other’s arms. Lord Worthing’s parents have loved one another for over thirty years. Now, Kerrington and Eleanor have found true love. Happily ever after exists all around us, and it is as real as we let it be. One year of such love would outweigh twenty of a marriage of convenience.”
Bran’s hot gaze returned to her countenance. “Do you believe we have a chance at this elusive love of which you speak?”
“I want to believe we do, and I am willing to see where this takes us. You say you have dreamed of me often; I did the same with you. We need to know whether that childhood love we declared has any merit, and we cannot do that unless we spend time together.”
Bran smiled deviously. “Well, this is certainly together.”
Velvet took his hand and pulled him toward her, leading Bran down to the bed. Surprisingly, he felt more comfortable with the situation. “We could just talk.” She laid her head on his outstretched arm.
“Or we could kiss,” he countered.
Her smile spoke the words she did not utter. “There is always that.”
“We cannot settle it all in one night.”
She lovingly touched his face. “Then come to me until you are certain.”
“Oh, Velvet…” Bran leaned forward to kiss her. “You are not what I had expected.” His mouth remained inches from hers.
“I hope I am more than you had expected.” She slid her arms about his neck. “We grew up together, but now we need to grow together.”
Bran pressed his lips to hers, quickly deepening the kiss, allowing his tongue to thrust into the soft recesses of Velvet’s mouth. Bravely, she mimicked his movement and traced her tongue across his teeth. Her mouth’s warmth enflamed his dreams, and Bran gathered Velvet closer to him, feeling how she molded to his body, as if she truly belonged there. Although he would later chastise himself for moving so quickly, his hands instinctively searched her body–her hips, her arms, her thighs, and finally her breasts. When she moaned, Bran left her mouth and trailed kisses down her neck. “May I see you?” he whispered. “I have thought of you for so long.”
Velvet ran her hand through his hair. “Is this what you want?” She stared deep into Bran’s eyes.
Suspended above her, Bran’s thoughts lacked coherence. “When I first entered this room, I thought of finally sating myself in you. I beg your forgiveness if my bluntness shocks you, but you had to realize your invitation would lead me to such thoughts. Now, I just want to know you at last. I want what you said–I want to know your likes and dislikes–your strengths and weaknesses–your successes and your failures, and I want to know every inch of your body.” Bran rested his hand lightly on the knotted ribbon at the base of her neck.
Velvet’s eyes searched his face; she understood what he asked. “I suppose it is a natural next step,” she conceded. “May I ask that you remove your shirt so I can learn something of you too?”
Bran’s smile turned upward. “Not what I expected,” he repeated. He sat forward and removed his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it on a nearby chair. When he heard Velvet gasp, he turned and taunted, “Do you like what you see?”
Velvet remained frozen for several long seconds, her mouth open in surprise. “Not what I expected,” she returned in a raspy voice.
He lay beside her again. “My turn,” he whispered before kissing behind her ear. His hand returned to her breasts, weighing one in his palm. Miraculously, Velvet reached up and undid the looped knot at her neck and the first three buttons of her gown. “Permit me,” he croaked in a broken voice. His eyes followed her hands.
Velvet simply nodded as his fingers replaced hers. Bran shakily released the next few buttons and lay open the white muslin before edging it off her shoulder. Hungrily, he memorized every freckle–every pore leading to his first glimpse of her breasts. He inched the material downward, tormenting both of them with his slowness. Velvet moaned when he kissed the spot between the swell of her breasts. Then he pulled the muslin down to her waist, fully exposing her to him. The perfection of her form shot lust straight to his manhood. Reverently, Bran lowered his head to taste her for the first time. For long, luscious moments, he relived his dreams.
Completely immersed in the desire coursing through him, Bran licked the tip of her full breast before he pressed himself to her, taking in the scent of her–nuzzling between Velvet’s bosoms and creating a heat that permeated his soul. In the back of his mind, he told himself that he could not ruin her; but for the life of him, he could not leave. Just a few more minutes, he told himself, although a part of him screamed that it was impossible for only a few more minutes; he wanted her completely. He had to release her. Forcibly Bran moved away, pushing himself up on his arms balanced above her. “We cannot do this,” he rasped out the words.
Totally engrossed in her desires, it took Velvet a moment to acknowledge his claim with a flush of color and a diverted gaze. “I am sorry,” she murmured, biting down on her bottom lip, trying to shield her shame.
Bran leaned forward to kiss her temple. “Do not be sorry, my Dear. It is not that I do not want this,” he whispered. “It is because I want it so badly that I must stop. You need to learn about love in steps. I cannot ruin you; you mean too much to me.”
Velvet began to inch her gown upward. “Must you leave?”
Bran’s eyes followed her hands. He smiled mischievously. “I could be convinced to lie with you for a few hours. We should not, however, be found together.”
She clutched the gown closed at the neck, but scooted over to make room for him beside her on the bed.
Bran moved up on his knees. “Let me assist you with that.” He gently “slapped” her hands away. “I need to remove the temptation you offer.” After tying the ribbon, Bran settled himself beside her, lifting Velvet into his arms. “Blow out the candle, Sweetling. Let us find some rest.”
Sighing deeply, Velvet did as he ordered before she snuggled into his shoulder. For Bran, the moment held exquisite torture. For years, he had dreamed of holding her as such. Yet, he wanted her–his groin actually throbbed from needing her. It would take a very cold bath to calm his blood. However, he took several breaths and made himself close his eyes. At least, he no longer dealt with the possibility of Velvet joining with Gabriel Crowden. He simply needed to claim her as his own. Before you ruin her, he warned himself. He kissed the top of her head as Velvet ran her hand across his b
are chest. He left his breeches on. Safer that way, he considered. Soon he heard the gentle rhythm of her sleep and allowed himself to follow her there. “Surely if our hearts are true, things will come together for us,” he whispered to the darkness.
*
Two days later, Bran escorted Eleanor down the aisle of the Linton Park chapel. He had spent last night in Velvet’s bed for the second time. Again, they kissed intimately and simply slept together. Surprisingly, he found it crazily satisfying in a twisted sort of manner.
As he walked beside his sister, Bran imagined how it might be to have what Kerrington had this day. For him to be waiting for Velvet’s approach.
“Who gives this woman in this union?” Doctor Perry asked.
“I, Brantley Fowler, willingly give my sister Eleanor to this man.” With those words, Bran placed Ella’s hand in that of James Kerrington, the future Earl of Linworth. Eleanor and Worthing would be happy at last.
*
Bran sought out Shepherd at the wedding breakfast. The man who formed the many units of the Realm rarely left the office, and Bran found it amusing to see him lurking about along the crowd’s outer rim. “Trying to hide?” Bran taunted as he saddled up beside the man.
Shepherd looked about suspiciously. “Not exactly.”
Bran cupped the man’s shoulder. “Well, I am certain that Worthing appreciates your being here.”
“Your sister, Fowler, turned into an excellent match for His Lordship.” Shepherd’s gaze followed the happy couple. “She will make him a greater man than we had ever anticipated for his future.”
Bran’s eyebrow shot up. “We?”
Shepherd did not even blink when he answered, “Yes, we! You did not think the British government haphazardly placed you seven together. We played all the odds looking for the right combination for the ultimate success. We see a powerful position in the government for the future earl. Your sister will be a formidable countess and complement him well.”
Bran’s amusement grew. “And what is in store for me, may I ask?”
Shepherd leveled a look of cold steel on Bran. “Until you settle your private life, as well as other issues, I am afraid no plans exist.”
“I am working on my private life,” Bran hissed, disliking being dismissed so easily.
Shepherd lowered his voice. “Miss Aldridge has potential, Fowler, but she has shown no fortitude to date. You require a woman with moral strength–mettle–intrepidity–a courageous backbone. You are impulsive, but passionate about right and wrong. You can use your position to move the immovable; however, you face censure in doing so. You would feel no qualms for yourself; but you are too quick to protect Miss Aldridge. How do you know she can handle your life as a Realm member? Have you shared some of your sorted escapades with the lady?” Shepherd paused, giving Bran a chance to respond, but he could not honestly say that his employer had not spoken with authority. “I did not think so,” Shepherd confirmed. “Have you told Miss Aldridge the truth about Sonali?”
Bran spoke through gritted teeth, angry at Shepherd’s accusations, but also angry with himself because he grudgingly recognized the man’s words held true. “Miss Aldridge is not ready for those facts.”
“Because the lady cannot handle the truth or because you wish to protect her from life’s realities?”
“Because...” Bran started, but stopped short. He did not know if either scenario applied.
“I might remind you, Your Grace,” Shepherd’s voice took on hard, enigmatic overtones, “destroying Sir Louis Levering’s hold over your family does not eliminate the danger of Mir’s attacks. Levering took credit for Lady Worthing’s attack in Hyde Park, but what of the two attacks on your estate? I know you deduced that Levering had something to do with the strikes because he had a spy on the Thornhill staff. Yet, we have found no connection between those Worthing captured and Mir. Do not forget there were two shooters in the park that day. Obviously, Levering or one of his associates knows of Mir’s henchmen; however, I cannot believe the baronet might have enough intelligence to recognize the danger he encounters with these men. Do not permit your guard to slip simply because of inaction. Talpur and Jamot are still in England.” With that, Shepherd stepped away, leaving Bran with much to consider.
Chapter 13
On Friday morning, Bran’s carriages returned to London. Kerrington and Ella would not arrive in Town until the following Wednesday, timing it so Levering would not know of Eleanor’s return to London until they put their final plan to rid themselves of the baronet into effect. Although he did not look forward to having Velvet’s family so close–realizing it would affect their newfound intimacy, Bran graciously extended an invitation to the Averettes to join them at Briar House.
Lexford became a regular at Bran’s London townhouse, choosing to escort Cashé, while Crowden withdrew his attention from Velvet. With Ella’s absence from his home, the dynamics had changed. Briar House lost some of it “music,” as he liked to term the closeness they had all shared those first few weeks in London. Now, they were a household of strangers. Those hours of sharing stories and moments of closeness had disappeared into formal exchanges.
“Will you come to me tonight?” Velvet had asked as they met in the hallway outside the family’s chambers.
Bran glanced quickly about to insure their privacy. “With your aunt and uncle so close, I do not wish to chance it. At Linton Park, the Averettes were in a different wing. We will need to think of something else.”
“I do not wish to lose our...our closeness,” she protested.
Bran moved nearer–where he might feel her heat. “Neither do I, but Lord Averette would not understand our intimacy without the bonds of marriage.”
“Do think of something soon.” Hearing the approach of one of the footmen, Velvet moved away, pausing only long enough to exchange one last loving glance before disappearing into her chamber.
*
“Is everything in place?” Baron Swenton called on Bran early on the day of the Prince Regent’s supper party.
Bran finished off a note he would send to Kerrington. “I sent Murray with a message for Sir Louis. He will wait until the baronet departs for the day and then leave it with Levering’s landlady. Murray will tell Sir Louis we leave Briar House at nine when we truly leave at eight. I am hoping Levering’s frustration and anger at being slighted will lead to the man’s downfall.”
“Then there is nothing else to do until this evening?”
“Other than to pray that our good Prince remains his predictable self this evening. If things go as planned, Levering will say something offensive, and either Kerrington or I will demand satisfaction. We hope Prinny will look the other way and not condemn us for a duel. Allowing Levering to defend himself does not appear as murder in the strictest sense.”
John Swenton smiled amusedly. He, like the other Realm members, knew Brantley Fowler’s impulsivity and his stubborn nature. “And the fact that both you and Worthing are some of the finest swordsmen in all England makes it a fair fight for the baronet?” he taunted.
“Who knows? Sir Louis might choose pistols,” Bran reasoned.
Swenton barked out a laugh. “As if that would change the outcome.”
“It would be satisfying either way.”
*
“Remember, Mr. Horace, you are not to react when Sir Louis rants and raves about missing our group at Briar House.” Bran watched his party board the coaches for the evening’s entertainment.
“I understand, Your Grace. It will be as you instructed. Murray and I will see to the baronet.”
Bran checked his watch, verifying the time. “It will be late, Horace. The Prince keeps unusual hours. Have the maids turn down the beds, and then release the staff until the morning.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
Bran took one more look around Briar House and then followed the others to his carriages. Tonight had taken a month of planning and maneuvering. A few more hours would see the end of Sir
Louis’s reign of terror.
Within the half hour, they disembarked at Carlton House. As the captain of the guard announced, “His Grace, Brantley Fowler, the Duke of Thornhill,” Bran quickly surveyed the room to verify everyone was in place: Aidan Kimbolt, waited for Sir Louis in the main foyer, pretending to be Allister Collins for a few more minutes; Marcus Wellston, John Swenton, and Carter Lowery lounged about the room, seemingly enjoying the company of various occupants of the grand hall. Crowden was part of Bran’s party.
As the captain announced each of them, Bran ushered everyone to his assigned seating near the hall’s front. With him and Gabriel Crowden, the Dowager Duchess, Velvet, the Averettes, Cashé, and Grace Nelson, the Averettes’ governess, who Bran and Worthing hoped would play an integral part in the evening’s proceedings, made up the group. Within a quarter hour, they heard the same captain announce, “Viscount and Viscountess Worthing of Linton Park in Derbyshire,” and they all turned to see Eleanor enter on James Kerrington’s arm.
“She looks glorious,” Aunt Agatha remarked. “As if my sister Amelia lives again.”
Bran marveled at his sister’s appearance: even though she was obviously nervous, Ella glowed with an inner happiness. “I have never seen Eleanor lovelier.” Bran added to the mystique.
“Members of the ton want to be among the first to recognize Kerrington’s and Eleanor’s joining,” the Duchess observed. “Look at Lady Lucas and the Dowager Lady Martindale. They are like two hounds on a fox’s scent.”
Finally, after repeatedly telling the story of his father’s illness leading to their rushed marriage, Kerrington and Ella joined them. Bran greeted his sister with a quick kiss to her cheek. “Aunt Agatha and I were just commenting on how beautiful you look this evening, my Dear,” he whispered close to her ear. “Worthing’s attention brings out the best in you.”
Ella smiled, despite her anxiousness. “Thank you, Bran, for making it possible for His Lordship and me to find each other again.”
“I simply want you to know happiness, Ella. You deserve so much more than I can give you.” He gently touched her cheek before welcoming Kerrington.
Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet Page 23