Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet

by Regina Jeffers

  “My Goodness!” Her eyes widened with the acknowledgment of what her uncle said. “We could be triplets.”

  “Except that you are such a mess,” Cashé snarled her nose in disgust.

  “Cashé,” Satiné warned.

  Bran stepped beside Velvet to reclaim her. “Considering your sister has been a captive for more than a week, I personally think she looks beautiful. However, let us remove this accessory.” He loosened the noose from about her neck.

  “And let us find a surgeon to tend your wound.” Velvet took Bran’s hand and led him to where Lucifer lay on the ground. Lexford pressed a handkerchief to the man’s chest.

  Almost like magic, Wellston reappeared with the surgeon. “My!” The man took in the appearance of the two men now resting on the floor. “Let me see what we have here.” A quick inspection showed him that he needed to transport his patients to a nearby office. “I require a clean workroom.”

  Lexford retrieved a small wagon from the blacksmith, and Bran, Velvet, and Lucifer gingerly climbed into the back of it. While Lexford dealt with the “wounded,” Wellston saw to reporting the incident to the local authorities.

  “I will take both of your sisters to Chesterfield,” Ashton told Velvet. “You will join us there.”

  “Yes, Uncle.” She glanced at Bran. “His Grace will escort me to the manor.”

  “Should you allow Velvet to travel alone with the duke?” Cashé wondered aloud. “Uncle Samuel would object.”

  Ashton gave her a cautionary gaze. “As Thornhill has risked his life to save your sister, I believe he has demonstrated his intentions are honorable. He will bring no shame on this family.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Bran nodded his head as the wagon rolled away.

  *

  From the rooftop of the neighboring building, Murhad Jamot watched the same gentleman he had seen at the blacksmith’s shop leave the warehouse with a young lady on each arm. The girls were obviously twins; he could discern very little differences between them. Now, he understood how the duke and his friends had tricked him. The women held an uncanny resemblance to Velvet Aldridge, and they both wore dresses of a similar shade. The duke had created an illusion, and he had fallen for it. It would not happen again.

  Chapter 19

  Later that day, a rented coach moved steadily through the western shires headed to Baron Ashton’s estate. Bran and Velvet sat together through the nearly three hours’ trip, his good arm draped around her shoulders, holding her next to him. Lucifer leaned back on the rear-facing seat, the laudanum easing his pain.

  “Does your arm hurt?” she asked as he held her hand.

  Bran smiled mischievously. “It is nothing compared to the pain my heart felt with your leaving.”

  “I did not want to depart,” she insisted.

  “I know.” He brushed his lips across hers. “But we will not part again. I will purchase a special license or we will leave for Gretna Greene or we will do this the traditional way,” Bran asserted.

  “What if Uncle Samuel attempts to stop us?” Velvet shot a quick glance at the sleeping Lucifer to assure herself of some privacy.

  Bran followed her eyes to Lexford’s servant. Then he bent his head to whisper to her alone. “Then your Uncle Samuel will find us in a most compromising situation. I am not above stealing your virginity to force his hand.”

  Velvet blushed with such declarations; she fanned her face as the redness spread. Bran’s chuckle added to her embarrassment. “Then you have a plan?”

  “There is one thing you should know of me, Darling, is I always have a plan. Most people believe me to be impulsive, but I consider myself tenacious. Once I have made my decision, then I see it through. I came back to Thornhill to claim your love, and it is my intention to not allow you to change your mind.” He brought her fingers to his lips and nibbled on them.

  Velvet stammered, “Then...then Sonali...she is safe?”

  Bran stiffened with the reminder of his daughter’s fate. “I have accepted Lord Worthing’s assurance that he and Lowery would protect Sonali. I know they would both give their lives for my daughter.”

  Velvet bit her lip, stalling, wondering whether she should ask. “Is Sonali truly yours, Bran?”

  Her words brought him to full alert. “Why would you believe otherwise?”

  “My captor?”

  Bran supplied her with a name. “Murhad Jamot.”

  Velvet nodded, putting the fact to her words. “Jamot told me of his love for Ashmita–how he had wanted to make her his wife.” Bran froze in place, and she wondered if she should continue. “He claimed he was not one of the men who violated Ashmita.”

  “Jamot spoke of Ashmita’s shame to you?” Bran’s voice held pure contempt.

  Velvet trembled, her voice shaky now. “I believe the man thought I knew. He spoke of Ashmita’s sentence–of how their leader declared her a fallen woman–how men visited her for their own pleasure.” Bran visibly flinched with her words. “How Sonali has no English features.”

  Bran’s lids closed, as if he saw everything she could not. His shoulders shrank in defeat. “I never want Sonali to know the truth,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with grief. He opened his eyes to take in the countenance, which had seen him through some of his worst battles. “Much of what Jamot likely related was true. Ashmita was but fifteen when Ahmad Waaja first took her, and then Shaheed Mir named her no more than a common tart. That was before we had come to Mir’s camp. The government had wanted Mir’s assistance in defeating another mountain tribe, which continually had attacked our caravans and shipments. That was our mission: secure Mir’s aid and finance his efforts.

  “However, we were there less than a day when I saw who resided in a nearby tent. A guard had taken Ashmita to a covering set up for the women to bathe and to take care of their personal needs. The tribe either spat at her or turned their backs on her as she walked defiantly to attend to her ablutions. I did not lie: Her black hair and small stature reminded me of you. Seeing her, all I could imagine was that might be you in more ways than one. I had imagined my father demanding your participation in his sick games, and I had chastised myself for leaving you behind. Little did I know, the duke would see his own daughter as more appealing. That is why I so desperately wanted Ella to know happiness. To repay her for what she has suffered.” Bran’s eyes now shed the tears he had held back for so long.

  “When I went into the tent to stop Ashmita’s continual ill-use, I saw myself as saving you. I even imagined that you would be proud of what I did.” Velvet’s fingers interlaced between his. “As planned, I took Ashmita to Bombay–to a safe house the Realm owned. My unit met me there after they vanquished many of Mir’s men. As it turned out, Mir was actually the source of many of our government’s problems in the area, and we were correct; but needless to say, I heard from my superiors regarding my impulsive actions.

  “We brought in a physician to attend Ashmita. So many men had torn her physically–something even the best surgeon could not repair. We initially planned to just make her comfortable–let Ashmita heal as much as she could, but after six weeks of tending to her, the physician declared that she was with child. The news gave Ashmita new life–gave her a reason to live.

  “We went out on several other missions, but the Realm allowed Ashmita to stay at our house, even found someone to attend her when we were away. But when we were in Bombay, I stayed with her–tended to her myself. Ashmita remained in bed throughout her delivery, and she and I shared many intimacies, but not of a sexual nature. I bathed her, changed the bloody pads over her wounds, and such. I treated her with the respect she had deserved.” Bran took Velvet’s hand and brought it to his chest. “My heart has always been yours.”

  Velvet stroked his cheek. “You are the most compassionate man I know. I never doubted that.”

  “As Ashmita’s time drew near,” he continued, “she became more and more distraught. She feared for her child’s future–on the streets of Bombay, with no fam
ily. Her own mother remained in Mir’s camp, had actually been one of those who spat at her. I could do nothing else; it was all of which I could think. I chose to make Ashmita my wife–to give her child my name. We married, and three days later she delivered Sonali; she was a month early. A little over a week later, Ashmita died. Kerrington and I concocted a believable story of my instant love for an Indian girl. I remained part of Worthing’s unit for another eighteen months, but it soon became obvious that I could not run missions and raise Ashmita’s daughter, so I left the unit and took up residency in Brittany. The rest you know.” He paused poignantly. “Please tell me this will not change how you see Sonali. She is still my daughter, and if we join, you must accept her as such.”

  “Of course, I would never disclose what you have said to anyone–and certainly not to Sonali.” Velvet paused with uncertainty. “Eleanor suggested that if I wanted to win your heart that I should learn to love Sonali. At first, I made friends with her with only that purpose in mind–to have you notice my efforts to accept your child.”

  “It worked,” he said quietly.

  She continued her confession. “In the beginning, I still felt betrayed, but then I realized none of that was Sonali’s fault. She was innocent of the blame I wished to place on you. Finally, I became aware of how I could care for her simply because Sonali is a precocious, adorable child. She may not be yours, but Sonali has learned from you; she has your mannerisms and your sharp mind.”

  “And my deviousness. Sometimes I marvel at how she manipulates others.” Bran’s smile spread as he thought of Sonali’s antics.

  Velvet laughed softly. “I will have to keep that in mind if we marry.”

  “We will marry,” he asserted. “Now, give me another kiss before we reach the baron’s estate and before Lucifer wakes.”

  “You are such a cad.” She swatted at his chest with the back of her hand, but Velvet quickly slid into his one arm embrace.

  Bran bent his head to drink of her lips, quickly deepening the kiss. “So good,” he murmured as the coach came to a halt in the baron’s drive. “With your unkempt look and kiss-swollen mouth, you look thoroughly delightful, my Love.” He had purchased a day dress from a village seamstress so she might throw away the one she had worn when Jamot kidnapped her. Besides being terribly stained, he thought it might remind her of her ordeal.

  Surprisingly bold, Velvet gave Bran another quick kiss before a footman opened the carriage door. “I am just thankful to be your love,” she declared. He thought himself the most fortunate of men.

  *

  Two days later Carter Lowery rode into the circular drive. Immediately, Bran was out the main door. His left arm in a sling, he reached up with his right to catch the bridle. “What news?” he shouted to Lowery.

  “You mind if I dismount first,” Carter said irritably. Then he slid from the saddle, testing his legs a few steps before turning to face his friend. He cut straight to the point. “Sonali is safe.”

  Bran let out a deep sigh of relief, his knees nearly buckling. “And the Captain?”

  Lowery now stood by his side. “Worthing has a few broken ribs and some cuts and bruises, but he killed Talpur.”

  “And you?”

  “More than a few sore spots. Whittington took a cut on the arm, and Lucien Simms one to his thigh.”

  Bran looked surprised. “Simms? My former neighbor?”

  “A member of the Realm, like Whittington,” Lowery confided. “Even Deston Hollander assisted us–said he owed you a debt of gratitude for aiding his sister. By the way, Daisy Hollander supposedly has found an elderly count, who simply adores her. Her brother saw to the arrest of Talpur’s accomplices and tied up all the loose ends.” Lowery glanced toward the house and back to Bran’s obvious wound. “And you were successful?”

  “Although it was harrowing for a few minutes, Velvet is safe. Lucifer has a shoulder wound. I took a bullet in the arm.” He held up his sling. “This is damn annoying, but Velvet insists I wear it, and I foolishly promised her she could fuss over me.” He half chuckled with the irony of it. “How did you know we were here?”

  “Stopped at Lexington Arms, but Kimbolt’s staff directed me here. Why Chesterfield Manor?” Lowery took a closer look at the house.

  “Baron Ashton is Velvet’s maternal uncle. It is he who raised Miss Cashé’s twin sister Satiné. Ironically, he too is former Realm,” Bran explained.

  “Then Miss Cashé is here? I suppose that means Yardley too?”

  “Lord knows!” Bran grinned mischievously. “Yardley moons after Satiné and Lexford after Cashé.”

  Lowery laughed heartily. “Let us join them. I have waited a long time to say I told you so.”

  They began to walk toward the house. “I am pleased you are here. I mean to make Miss Aldridge my wife as soon as possible.”

  “You will marry from here?”

  “Actually, I had considered Linton Park. We could send word to Worthing to bring Sonali to Derbyshire. You and the others could follow us there, and Ella could be a part of the ceremony.” Bran gestured to Lowery to lead the way.

  “And what of Lord Averette?”

  Sarcasm laced Bran’s response. “Well, as I cannot convince your brother Lawrence to lose the man along the Thames, I suppose I will send word to inform him of the ceremony.”

  “Oh, yes, I do want to stay. I love watching your manipulations. Lord Averette has met his match,” Lowery beamed.

  *

  Bran sent out his queries. Eleanor answered hers the same day Bran dispatched it to Derbyshire with a resounding “Yes.” She would arrange the ceremony for the Linton Park chapel; Kerrington’s parents had wholeheartedly agreed. Although she had chastised him for putting himself in danger, his news of Sonali’s safety, her husband’s minor injuries, Velvet’s rescue, Lucifer’s injury, and his own wound brought his sister some relief. He thought it amusing that Hannah, who could not read or write, asked Ella to transcribe a note to Lucifer. Definitely something stirred there. Lucifer clasped the message tightly in his fist, and Bran observed his reading it often.

  Baron Ashton assumed the duty of informing Lord Averette of the rescue and the impending wedding ceremony. Bran cautiously described his and Averette’s last encounter, including the viscount’s many objections to the marriage.

  “The Aldridges were always the type to cut off their own noses to spite their faces. I tried to convince my sister Chenille to choose another, but she loved Edward Aldridge. She would be thrilled with Velvet’s choice. Chenille and your mother always thought highly of each other.”

  Bran appreciated the baron’s support. He expected to greet an angry viscount at Linton Park. Bran knew first hand how vindictive Averette might be. In his note to Worthing, he thoroughly explained all Averette threatened; Bran wanted Ella’s husband to be aware of possible censure. He hated bringing more problems to their door, but he knew he could no longer allow Averette to control his life. Bran was not willing to wait any longer to marry Velvet.

  *

  “I will see you at week’s end,” he spoke so others could not hear. “I will have a special license ready for your arrival. The archbishop is reportedly in Nottinghamshire.” His finger traced the line of her jaw.

  “I wish I could travel with you,” Velvet turned her head to kiss his palm.

  “It is only two days,” he reasoned. “And I should be at Linton Park when your uncle arrives. I do not wish to release his venom on Eleanor.”

  “No, I would not wish that on my worst enemy.”

  Over the past few days he had considered how different each of the Aldridge daughters were–all products of the household, which raised them. Although at times she seemed quite pleasant and compassionate, Cashé often repeated Lord Averette’s opinions. Satiné reflected Ashton’s country values. She knew how to run a household and was an accomplished artist. She liked a mental challenge and could often be heard arguing political issues with her uncle. Then there was Velvet: a woman he had thought
to be as delicate as fine china, but she had survived a week of hell, with what appeared to be few major ramifications. He had thought that she might have nightmares or moments of sadness, but he had seen no such remembrance of her ordeal. It was as if she had chosen to replace the bad memories with new ones. Of course, Bran was not naïve enough to believe it would always be so. Yet, Velvet proved more resilient than any of them had suspected.

  She walked with him to the carriage. “I love you,” he mouthed before entering the coach.

  Impulsively, Velvet moved to the open door. “Bran, I will make you a good wife.”

  “I have no doubt, my Love.” He winked at her. “Two days, Sweetheart.”

  “Two days,” she repeated before stepping away from the coach. Then the footman brought up the steps and closed the door.

  *

  Bran was correct: Lord Averette unreasonably brought his anxiety and his conspiracy theories about Velvet’s disappearance to Linton Park. The viscount sat in Kerrington’s study with Bran and Eleanor, who thought it best to confront the man in private; however, his accusations grew in volume.

  “And you expect me to believe, Your Grace, that this whole abduction was not staged for my benefit? To secure my gratitude and to allow you to claim my niece as your own?”

  Eleanor bristled with the viscount’s tone. Her memories of the jovial Samuel Aldridge were in stark contrast to this man who sat before her. “And you expect the world to believe my brother purposely shot himself in the arm to augment this farce? Quite an extreme measure for a man who manipulates not only the kidnapping of the woman he loves but also of his only child! Surely, Lord Averette, you must see the folly of such assertions!”

  “I cannot control what you believe, Lord Averette, but the truth is simple.” Bran’s words held his determination. “Your niece spent a week with a madman named Murhad Jamot–a man who removed her from your property in Scotland, I might add. She has no reputation remaining if word of this leaks out. Many people know of what happened, but, thankfully, most of them are my associates. Of course, I am assuming that you executed your inquires as to Velvet’s whereabouts with discretion.” Bran purposely paused to judge whether Averette now regretted his impulsive search for Velvet. Seeing a narrowing of the man’s eyes told Bran what he needed to know: Averette had used little tact in his investigation of Velvet’s disappearance. “However, we can resolve this issue. I am willing to make Velvet my duchess. Despite what I suspect you may have disclosed, I am certain the combined word of the Earl of Berwick, Viscount Lexford, Baron Ashton, Lord and Lady Whittington, Lord Hellsman, Sir Carter Lowery, and Lord and Lady Worthing can correct any harm your worry has caused. You must simply agree to my plight.”