Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet (22 page)

“About four.” Worthing lowered the candle to take away the light’s sting.

Bran looked confused. “Four? Why so early? Cannot stay away from my sister?” Bran’s alcohol-saturated mind could not think seriously.

“Not exactly.” The viscount paused in his explanation. “There is just something. Something is not right...a gut feeling...I cannot shake it. We have always listened to our instincts.”

Bran shook his head to clear it. “Levering? Do you suppose?” He was suddenly alert.

“I do not know; I just need to go. You will address what needs to be done in London?”

“I will see to it.” Bran began to consider the possibilities.

Already moving onto the next issue, Worthing shook his head. “I will see you soon.” Taking the candle’s spot with him, he disappeared into the darkness.

Within minutes, Bran heard the rattle of the carriage in retreat. He crawled back into the bed, pulling the blanket up over his head. He would rise in a few hours and return to London. The more he thought of the possibility of Levering being in Derby, the less likely he considered the notion. Worthing had simply missed Eleanor and had wanted to return home and start his life over. It was a nice dream; Bran knew it too. In fact, he suspected each member of the Realm held like desires–a chance to find love and happiness. Thoughts of Velvet Aldridge renewed these prayers in him, and Bran welcomed his favorite dream of the dark-haired beauty. Of late, things seemed better between them, and Bran had hoped that they might someday come to a true understanding. “The prayer the devil answers,” he mumbled as he rolled over in the bed.

*

“Sir Louis,” Velvet acknowledge as she entered the drawing room, accepting the baronet’s card presentation by Mr. Horace. Bran had not returned from Northamptonshire, and Aunt Agatha was out with some friends. Velvet hoped she could convince the baronet of the ruse they had put in place. She now realized how sly her former neighbor was. “I am surprised to see you at Briar House, Sir. Surely you realize my cousin is not at home.”

“Forgive me, Miss Aldridge.” Sir Louis offered up a belated bow. “I came seeking news of Lady Eleanor’s return.”

Velvet motioned to a nearby chair. “I cannot say for certain, Sir Louis, although we did receive a letter from Eleanor only just this morning. It seems she and Miss Nelson are thoroughly enjoying the Lake District.”

Levering asked suspiciously, “Miss Nelson?”

“You know. Eleanor’s new friend.” Velvet prayed her countenance would not betray her lie.

“Of...of course,” Sir Louis stammered. “I simply was not thinking of Lady Eleanor’s traveling companion. My parents had good friends with that surname, and my mind...my mind just naturally drifted to them.”

Velvet fought the urge to call him a liar. Instead, she offered to let him read Ella’s letter.

“That will not be necessary, Miss Aldridge.” Levering gathered his gloves. “I have simply missed Lady Eleanor’s company, and I am anxious for her return.”

Velvet bit back her anger. “Although I am certain my cousin misses her new London acquaintances, I applaud her for seizing this opportunity to see parts of England. Neither of us has traveled much. Surely Ella has shared her desire to see the world; she has always wanted to travel–to experience other countries.” She forced a smile to her face.

Levering obviously held no idea about Eleanor’s hopes and dreams, but he said, “Certainly. We have often spoken of traveling extensively before we begin a family.”

Velvet stood, unable to tolerate the baronet’s charade any longer. “I shall send my cousin your regards, Sir Louis. Is there anything else?”

Levering reluctantly stood. “I understand His Grace is not at home either.” She watched as the man tried to look innocent, but Velvet knew the baronet wondered if Bran had assisted in Ella’s escape.

“The Duke rode out yesterday. I expect him back in a day or two. I believe he planned to address a problem at one of the Thornhill holdings. You might try him again at week’s end. His Grace may have more news of his sister than I do.” Velvet started towards the door. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an appointment with my modiste.”

Levering scrambled to catch up with her. “You will send Lady Eleanor my concern.”

“As Eleanor’s intended, I would have assumed she might write to you, but I suppose she takes the more traditional route.” Velvet could not help but to add one last aspersion. “I can guarantee that my cousin will know of your interest.” She would share with
cousin
Bran, not
cousin
Eleanor. Half-truths bolstered her spirits.

Levering bowed again. “You are most kind, Miss Aldridge. Thank you for your time.” Another quick tilt of his head, and the man disappeared into the main foyer and from the house.

A deep sigh allowed her to breathe again. “Hurry home, Bran,” she whispered to the empty room. “I have a great deal to share.”

*

Two days later, Levering called again. Although he felt nothing but pure hatred for the man, Bran had plastered on his most welcoming smile and had greeted the baronet in his study. Bran knew despite Lexford’s warnings, Levering had avoided the viscount and the payment of his debt. His friend had reported to Bran regularly.

“I assure you, Sir Louis, my sister returns to London soon. In fact, I confirmed only yesterday that she should arrive in time for the Prince’s upcoming party. Naturally, I have insisted that Eleanor make an appearance at Prinny’s grand dinner. She must accept her place in Society.” Bran purposely put on his most pretentious attitude, in hopes of irritating Levering even more. Bran took a seat behind the desk before indicating that Sir Louis should assume the one before him. “Of course, you will be at His Highness’s bash, will you not, Levering?”

Sir Louis squirmed in his chair–a fact Bran had noted but pretended to ignore. “Actually, Your Grace, I was not invited.”

Bran steepled his fingers before his face, purposely not looking at the baronet. “I am certain that is an oversight. As Eleanor’s intended, I insist you join our party. My sister will be elated to see you, especially after being apart for so long.”

Levering fawned. “That is most gracious of you, Thornhill. I would be delighted to join you.”

“I will send word regarding Eleanor’s return.” Bran turned as if to resume his business dealings. “I can reach you at your London dwelling?” He picked up the pen, poising before writing.

Levering stammered, “I...I have...I have business in Kent for a few days, but I will be in London by week’s end.”

“Excellent.” Bran summed up. He needed Levering out of his sight before he bit a hole in the inside of his own jaw. In another minute, he might forget Worthing’s plan and just shoot the bastard–enjoying every second of watching the baronet die. “I will be in touch as soon as I know of Eleanor’s itinerary.” He stood to end the conversation.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Levering stood and bowed. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

*

Bran sent word immediately to Lexford regarding Levering’s plans to retreat to Kent. Two days later, the viscount presented his findings to a very anxious Duke of Thornhill.

“Did you experience any difficulty?” Bran asked as he poured Lexford a drink.

The viscount smiled with satisfaction. “Let us just say the baronet sports a few extra bumps and bruises.”

“I wish you had slit the bastard’s throat,” Bran grumbled.

“I thought I would leave that to you.”

Bran came to sit across from Lexford. “I anticipate the pleasure.” He took a sip of his wine. “What should I know?”

The viscount spent some time describing the baronet’s hiding place for the diary. “He showed me a passage from the book. Fowler, you definitely want to secure it. It would ruin your sister. I doubt if you mind your father’s reputation, but Lady Eleanor does not deserve such censure.”

“That bad?” Bran’s eyebrow rose is curiosity.

“It was quite lascivious,” Lexford spoke quietly, but seriously. “Crowden should also know there are two volumes. He must retrieve both of them. I am to join Levering and his cohorts tomorrow evening for cards and other entertainment. I have told the baronet my man of business would call on him. I will send Lowery in that role. Levering’s debt to me will come due one week from the day that he marries your sister.”

Bran’s sarcasm played through his words. “The baronet has a long wait.”

Lexford turned serious again. “You should know, Fowler, that Sir Louis bragged of having someone on your Thorn Hall staff who keeps him informed of your comings and goings. He has gone to Kent to discover whether Lady Eleanor sought refuge there.”

“That explains the attack on Velvet and me, as well as the one on Eleanor and Worthing.” Bran tapped his interlaced fingers on his chin in contemplation. “I will find out immediately who the traitor is and send him packing.”

They spent the next hour just enjoying each other’s company. Both men had considered the happiness displayed on Worthing’s face and the possibilities of such contentment finding them.

“Sometimes I cannot imagine such a moment. I thought I found it with Susan, but I was sorely wrong. My wife’s mental state should have been more evident before I married her. I suppose I will eventually settle on someone appropriate. All of us have a responsibility to our titles to marry and set up a nursery. It is envious what Kerrington has found with your sister,” Lexford offered.

“Worthing and Ella connected without preamble.” Bran stared off for a moment. “At least, a man can pray for a loving relationship. I do not relish marrying only for my title. I have seen enough death; I want to experience life.”

“We all do,” Lexford whispered.

*

“I will go tomorrow night,” Gabriel Crowden told Bran.

Although he instinctively knew the answer, Bran asked, “Why not tonight?”

Crowden leaned back in the chair, a mischievous smile turning up his mouth’s corners. “Too easy.” He propped his Hessians on the corner of Bran’s desk. “No one there tonight but the servants. Levering’s plan for a little card party tomorrow is more to my liking. I prefer a challenge.”

“I just want the diary; I do not personally care about the
thrill
you receive when you break into some place.”

“You will have the diary, Your Grace; I will warrant it. I just hate that no one will know until much later.”

Bran handed Crowden a package. “The Viscount has made a guess on what the second book looks like. The black one is what he believes Lady Levering used for the one he saw in Sir Louis’s possession. We have written
creative
passages in place of the ones Lexford saw. It should be amusing anyway.”

“So, I will place these inside the box Levering used.” Gabriel took the package from Bran’s outstretched hands. “As soon as we have the diary, are we still off to Derbyshire?”

“Eleanor and Worthing will marry on Friday. I want to present her the diaries before then.”

The marquis thumbed through the
fake
books. “How do you feel about their marriage?”

“Although I know she is more than capable, I am having some difficulty in picturing my baby sister as old enough to be the mistress of her own house.” Bran traced his finger around the glass’s rim.

“I thought you were going to say something about picturing her with child, knowing how she got that way.”

Bran frowned, pursing his lips. “I could have gone all day without the Captain’s image in bed with my sister. That is certainly not fair, Godown.”

Lord Godown laughed when his friend blushed. “Worthing is the first of us. Who do you suppose is next?”

Bran paused, debating on whether to answer. “I had suspected that you and my cousin might be considering a joining.” Bran hoped to sound as if the possibility would not bother him.

The marquis lowered his heels and prepared to stand. “I was thinking, Your Grace, about retiring to Gossling Hill.”

Bran swallowed hard. “Alone?”

“Alone, Your Grace.” Godown stood and adjusted his clothing. “I thought I might leave from Derbyshire.”

“You must wait until after Prinny’s party. It would be a shame to miss what happens with Levering.”

“Then after the Prince Regent’s little soiree. I require the wildness of Staffordshire. London is too constraining.”

*

“What is all this?” Bran stood in the door of the nursery watching Velvet and Sonali dancing around the room while wrapped in yards of blue silk. Laughing so hard, their voices drowned out his question, so he stood mesmerized by the image of the two women in his life enjoying such wild abandon. Crowden’s words of withdrawal had haunted him all day. The Marquis had insisted that Bran should make Velvet his own.

Suddenly, Sonali’s eyes found him, and she broke into a run to greet him. “Papa, look what Cousin Velvet brought for me!” She scampered into his waiting arms.

Velvet finished her swirling turn and greeted Bran with a beguiling smile. “Your Grace, would you care to join us?”

“Please, Papa!” Sonali’s arms tightened around Bran’s neck.

Bran answered his daughter, but his eyes remained on the woman with the rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. “What are we playing?”