“We should take the ladies to see the Cascade, Your Grace,” Lexford suggested after they had consumed a large portion of the meal.
“The Cascade?” Cashé appeared interested.
Lexford explained, “At nine, a bell will signal the entertainment. The show only lasts for a quarter hour. It is this elaborate waterfall–quite scenic and fascinating. At one time it included a miller’s wheel, but now the scene is one of mountain flora and fauna.”
“I would enjoy seeing it, Bran,” Velvet remarked.
“Then if your uncle holds no objection, it would be my honor to escort you. Lexford and Miss Cashémere will join us if that is acceptable, Lord Averette.”
“Certainly, Your Grace.”
Bran reached for Velvet’s hand. “Come then, it is nearly nine. We can secure a prime viewing space.”
Placing Velvet’s hand on his proffered arm, Bran led her into the night. Once they were out of the immediate view of the Averettes and the Dowager Duchess, he noted how Lexford steered Cashé to the far side of the Grand Walk. They both traveled in the same direction, but now they had the privacy of a large crowd.
“Thank you,” she murmured, “for this evening.”
“I do not understand,” he whispered as he moved behind her, literally spooning her body with his as the crowd pushed forward for a better view. She stood before him, her head barely reaching his chin. Standing as such, she could lean into him without censure.
Velvet turned her head to look up at him, and Bran briefly considered kissing her. “It is as if we are a couple. I feel quite special with your attentions.”
“We are always together,” he observed. “We have been since the Season began.”
“But not like this,” she explained. “We are surrounded by the people we see all the time, but we are essentially alone.”
Bran surreptitiously rested his hand on the small of Velvet’s back. “Might I convince you to walk about with me afterwards?”
“I would love it.” She held his gaze for a few long moments before returning to the water display.
Instead of looking at the elaborate staging, Bran concentrated on the curve of her neck, the shadow of Velvet’s thick lashes on the rise of her cheeks, and the lavender scent of her skin and hair. In this aspect, she suited him well. He desired her completely. Now, if he could just devise a way to prove the other.
When the show was over, Lexford and Cashé appeared beside them. Bran had not observed them in the crowd. “I plan to show Velvet the Grand Cross Walk,” he explained. “Please inform the Viscount we will return soon.”
“Certainly, Your Grace.” Lexford placed Cashé on his arm and led Velvet’s sister toward the rented box.
They strolled along the South Walk, through its three triumphal arches, part of a display depicting ancient ruins and a Gothic temple complete with an artificial fountain. “Might we speak honestly?” Bran leaned close to her; he directed their steps toward one of the darkened pathways. He knew they could not speak openly with everyone around them. He did not plan to take her along one of the lesser avenues, but it seemed the only chance for privacy. They found an opening in the hedgerow and plunged into the clearing. A rose arbor provided a bench and some seclusion.
“Of what shall we speak?” she asked innocently.
Stalling, Bran cleared his throat. “I will speak with little finesse at times, and I beg your forgiveness before I begin. First I would like to clarify a few givens.” He paused to see if she held objections, but Velvet voiced none. “May we agree that we have a strong physical attraction?”
He could not see her face well enough to observe her blush, but the trembling in Velvet’s voice said she did. “I concur.”
Bran breathed deeply. “Now, we must identify whether we can find a common ground upon which to build our relationship. Please tell me whether you can forgive my taking Ashmita as my wife. I will not have you throw your disdain in my face each time we have a disagreement.”
“Will we argue, Bran?”
“Of course, we will disagree and probably argue.” His frustration showed.
Velvet laughed softly. “Good...then we can make up afterwards. I always like you better when we argued as children.”
Her reasoning drove him crazy. “Then I assume that you can forgive me.” He ran his hand along the line of her neck.
“Do I detect agitation in your voice?” she taunted.
“Bloody hell, yes, there is agitation,” he growled. “Just answer my question if you will.”
Velvet reached out to touch his face. “We were friends first; everything else can come from that.” She paused when she heard Bran swallow hard. “Yes…yes, I can forgive you. Yes, I can raise Sonali as my own–yes, I...” Suddenly, she stopped, and Bran wondered if she hid the truth. “Yes, I can freely give myself to you.”
Bran could not resist what the darkness gave him. He caught the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his. Drinking deeply, he nearly forgot his purpose for bringing Velvet here. In a rasp, he withdrew. “May I tell you about Ashmita? I must be honest with you. I need for you to understand what I did with the Realm.”
Breathing shallow, she leaned away from him. “Tell me,” she whispered.
Bran turned where he could hold Velvet in his arms. “First, I must explain that the Realm is a secret group and much of what we did I can tell no one, not even you–just understand that we did government business, and we did it very well. When I first saw Ashmita, she was no more than a child, but she was being used as a woman. She had broken some tribal law, and the warrior chief had taken offense of her female defiance. Shaheed Mir declared her to be worthless and turned his men on her. When Kerrington, Kimbolt, Crowden, Swenton, Lowery, Wellston, and I arrived in Mir’s camp, Ashmita had been used for several days.”
“Oh, Bran,” she moaned in sympathy. “What did you do?”
He brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “At first, we did not know what was happening. We saw men entering the tent, but we thought it might be a Baloch version of a house of ill repute. But then I saw the girl when the guards escorted her to the public bath, and she was so young. Her long straight black hair reminded me of yours, but her situation reminded me of the depravity I had left behind. Mir declared her worth a rupee, and although she had no choice for they tied her to the bed, each man who entered that tent paid her for her body.
“For hours, I observed what happened to the girl. I heard her screams and her pleading, and something snapped. I did not ask Kerrington’s permission; he recognized my nature. I simply staged a rescue; I knocked out the guard and stormed the tent. I left my friends to hold off the other warriors and went in after her. I removed Ashmita, who wore nothing but the robe I tossed over her as I pulled her from her prison. We rode to a safe house in Bombay where I took care of her for months. She would not leave my side.”
Velvet tightened her hold on him. “The poor girl. She must have been so frightened.”
“Ashmita made herself survive; she refused to permit Shaheed Mir to defeat her. Much later, my wife took the coins those many men had paid for her body, claiming she had earned it, and she bought tides for her child, for Sonali, in the temple, giving her daughter a future. Unfortunately, Ashmita never fully recovered from the abuse: her body broken by the ill use. My division of the Realm fought to release and to protect her, but Ashmita’s spirit could not fully leave what happened behind.”
“So, you brought Sonali to England alone?”
Bran paused; he must tell Velvet about Sonali also, but he could not do so right now. “I took Sonali to Brittany first, but, eventually, I could not put her in danger any longer. I left my Realm work behind and brought Sonali to England–to Cornwall. Yet, we never leave the Realm completely behind. My former unit pulled together to save Eleanor and to give our ‘captain’ happiness. Yet, the situation with Ashmita still lingers because Mir claims one of us has stolen an emerald, and he has sent agents to retrieve it. That is the source of
your attack at Thornhill and the other person with whom Worthing fought in Hyde Park. So, my impulsive action over six years ago has come full circle to haunt us all.”
Velvet remained quiet for several minutes. “I had no idea the type of work you did.” Again, silence filled the area. “You did the right thing, Bran. I admit to still being righteously selfish–being jealous of your devotion to a woman thrust upon you in such a manner, but I would expect nothing less of you.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I cannot imagine being so strong. I thought Ella faced the worst man could inflict upon a woman, but what Ashmita suffered explains why she attracted your attention.”
Her silence bothered him; Bran had never wanted her to question her worthiness. He had simply wanted Velvet to realize why he had “betrayed” her, but it would not hurt for Velvet to consider whether she could support him in whatever way the Realm would lead him. “Are you well, Sweetheart?” he whispered. “I never meant to shock you, but if we are to be together, you must know my past.”
“You have given me a great deal to consider this evening. My realities are changing daily. Every time I think I have assayed a person’s character, I find I am sadly mistaken.”
Bran kissed her temple. “You are only leaving the girl behind and becoming a woman. Women know there are shades of gray in life and do not judge people until they know all the facts. But you are willing to change, which speaks well of you.”
“Do you truly believe so, Bran?”
“Of course, I do. You have no idea how often Kerrington took me to task those first years because of my impulsive nature. I was quite quick to judge, and most of the time I was wrong.” He caressed her cheek. “I should return you to your family.”
“But could we not stay a few more minutes?” She leaned into him.
Bran’s breathing suddenly became shallow. “A few minutes.” He bent to kiss her mouth tenderly. Velvet’s arms snaked around his neck, and Bran deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, and he was instantly hard. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasped out the words, before taking her mouth again.
However, an explosion of light cascading overhead brought them apart. “My God! The fireworks!” she gasped. “How long have we been here?”
“Let me see to you immediately.” They were on their feet and moving towards the opening. Within seconds, they joined those milling along the fashionable promenade. “Fowler!” he heard his name called from one of those walking behind him. Bran turned to see Adam Lawrence, the future Earl of Greenwall, with an enticing looking woman on his arm.
“Lord Stafford,” Bran acknowledged the viscount, “it is pleasant to see you. How long has it been?” They offered each other an abbreviated bow.
“Maybe two years–shortly after you came to Cornwall. I had heard of your ascension to the title.” Lawrence pulled his partner closer. “May I present Lady Ashworth?”
Bran bowed to the woman. “Lady Ashworth.” He then pressed Velvet to his side. “May I present my cousin Miss Aldridge? Velvet, this is an old acquaintance, Adam Lawrence, Viscount Stafford.”
Velvet curtsied. “Your Lordship.”
Bran did not like the way Lawrence eyed Velvet; the viscount was a renowned rake, but before he could say anything Viscount Averette joined them. “There you are, Your Grace. We worried for your return and that of my niece.”
“As you can observe, Lord Averette, we were simply conversing with Lord Stafford and Lady Ashworth.” Bran knew Velvet felt her uncle’s intrusion. He briefly made the appropriate introductions and then excused himself. “I have a large party waiting in my box, among them my aunt, the Dowager Duchess of Norfield. I do not like to leave her unattended for very long. Perhaps I will see you at White’s, Stafford.”
“It would be my honor, Your Grace.” Lawrence withdrew.
Viscount Averette took Velvet on his arm and turned her towards Bran’s supper box. “You were alone with His Grace for a shamefully long time,” he chastised, not even out of earshot from Bran.
Velvet gestured to the throngs surrounding them. “I would hardly consider this being alone, Uncle Samuel. It is no more than if we made our way across a ballroom. His Grace has many acquaintances among those in attendance this evening. You would not have him be rude to those who sought his time. We were on display at all times.”
“Yet, you must understand, my Dear, that Vauxhall also holds a reputation for its more savory side,” Averette protested.
Bran stopped them, his anger beginning to build. “Lord Averette, you should give your niece more credit.”
“Forgive me, Your Grace. I do not wish to seem unsympathetic, but I feel a great need to protect all three of my nieces.” Bran had wanted to remind the man that it had been over two years since he had even seen Velvet, but he bit back the words when he saw the pleading in her eyes.
“It is honorable of you, Sir.”
*
On Sunday evening, everything changed within Briar House. Much to Viscount Averette’s dismay, he sat in his study, pretending to work on his ledgers. According to Velvet’s uncle, a gentleman did not work on the Lord’s Day. There were so many things a gentleman “did not do on the Lord’s day” that Bran took some pleasure in his defiance. Although over the years, he had not attended church regularly, he did consider himself a religious man. One did not face the kind of dangers he did over the years without believing in a superior force. Yet, he was definitely not a Bible-thumping Evangelical. He had assumed that God did not take the day off so why should man? If working on his estate books would lead to his damnation, Bran knew he would have no chance of achieving an eternal paradise because so many things he had done for the Realm would send him straight to Hell.
“Bran?” Velvet appeared in the doorway. “Are you well?”
“As well as one can be when he is under constant report from someone so holy,” he grumbled while rising to his feet to greet her properly.
She came to stand before him. “I am sorry my family is causing so much trouble.”
“I am considering curtailing my time in London and returning to Thornhill.” He motioned to a settee and sat beside her.
“Do you think that would make a difference?” Feeling the pain of causing him such discomfort, she did not look at him.
Bran watched her carefully. “I have no reason to remain for the Season. If you wish to continue to enjoy the entertainment, I am certain Aunt Agatha will see you through. I will leave a coach for your convenience and maintain an account for you.”
Velvet finally met his eyes. “I want to be where you are, Bran. If you leave London, I have no reason to stay.”
Impulsively, he gathered Velvet in his arms and began to kiss her, enjoying the way she arched into him. He did not hear Viscount Averette until the man forcibly closed the door.
“Uncle!” Velvet gasped as she scrambled to her feet.
Bran followed her to stand before her family’s patriarch. “Lord Averette.”
“How long?” The man’s face had turned red with anger. “How long have you so dishonored my family, Thornhill?”
“You do not understand, Sir.” Bran began an apology, but stopped short when he saw the man physically shake with anger.
“Do not...do not attempt to dismiss what I have seen with my own eyes!” the Viscount insisted.
Velvet pleaded, “It was only a kiss, Uncle.”
The man stormed forward and forcibly placed her behind him. “Only a kiss!” he fumed. “And where would that kiss lead, Niece? Would you end up in His Grace’s bed or he in yours?”
“I will not give credence to such a remark by answering it,” she asserted.
“So, this is not the first time that the Duke has taken such liberties?” he charged. Furiously, the Viscount turned on Bran. “The mangy dog has fleas.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Bran came around to tower over the man.
However, Viscount Averette did not back down. “Meaning, you are your father’s son, as Lad
y Worthing was his daughter. You may convince the rest of the ton there was no merit to Sir Louis’s ravings, but my cousin married into this family, and we are well aware of Fowler’s debauchery. In fact, we feared your father’s cousin Horace Leighton would bring his debaseness to Thorn Hall. That is why we abandoned our trip to the Lakes to rush to Velvet’s side. You and your family have used that fact to prove to the Prince that he had not mistakenly judged your sister. We looked the other way because Lady Eleanor found an honorable man and deserved a better life, but if you think I will permit you to use my niece as your father repeatedly used one woman after another, you are sadly mistaken.”
“Bran is different,” Velvet’s small voice came from somewhere behind her uncle.
“I am certain His Grace would like for you to believe as such.” He turned his glare on Velvet. “Has the Duke offered an honest proposal, Niece?”
Velvet’s eyes met Bran’s. “No, Uncle.”
“My point exactly. The man uses you.”
By now, Bran’s limited patience snapped. “If you so worried about your niece’s welfare, why did you leave her after my mother’s untimely death, under my infamous father’s care for the last seven years? You willingly allowed my father to shoulder the expenses for Velvet since your brother’s death. My father served as her guardian, as I do now, and it is up to me to decide what is best for Velvet.”
“Well, no longer!” the Viscount declared. “I will assume my niece’s care. As you pointed out, I should have done so many years ago. Velvet will return with me to Edinburgh. We will depart tomorrow morning.”
“I forbid it,” Bran hissed. “Velvet will remain at Briar House.”
The Viscount shoved back his shoulders. “It would not be beyond me, Your Grace, to make a public issue of this dispute. If I hurt my niece’s reputation, so be it. In Edinburgh, no one will care. However, after the ‘show’ in Prince George’s dining hall, I would imagine people will begin to question whether Lady Worthing was so innocent and whether Sir Louis is as mad as he appeared. Grace Nelson is my governess, after all. So, Sir, if you believe I will permit my niece to live with you at Thorn Hall, you are sadly misguided. Look what advantage you have taken even with others in the house.”
Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet Page 26