Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet (25 page)

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 bare 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.

“Any problems?” Worthing spoke for Bran’s ears only.

“Not a thing. Everything is as you ordered.” Bran turned his friend so they might speak privately. “How is Ella?”

Kerrington looked with some concern at his wife. “She had another sleepwalking episode last evening, indicating she must be very upset. Ella thought I was you, and it was the evening of your mother’s passing.”

“I had hoped those episodes were long behind her,” Bran acknowledged.

Worthing prepared to move away before the others became too curious. “Maybe after tonight we can release Ella to all she can be.” He turned to see Eleanor approaching, and he reached for her hand and brought her to his side. Lifting her hand to his lips, Worthing showed his affection to the curious onlookers.

“Nice touch,” Bran grinned before turning to the rest of the group.

Worthing seated Ella next to the Marquis. They would not sit together, luring Louis Levering into a sense of security, but Kerrington would not permit Ella to feel unprotected.

“Phase one is complete,” Crowden muttered as he moved closer to Eleanor.

“Now, we must wait for the baronet to fall into the trap,” Worthing hissed. “Take care of Ella.” He touched her shoulder one last time as he moved away.

Crowden nodded his head. “Nothing will happen to Lady Worthing.”

Bran stepped beside Kerrington. “By the way, it has started to rain. Sir Louis must use a public hack and walk in the rain. He will be a mess when he arrives.”

“I wish I could take credit for the weather,” Lord Worthing whispered. “But it will add to the baronet’s frustration, and for that I am thankful.” He glanced up to see Aidan Kimbolt’s prearranged signal. “Levering is approaching the building,” he murmured to Bran and Crowden. “I am stepping away from the table. Support Ella as best you can.”

Worthing kissed his wife’s hand and whispered words of love and encouragement to her before joining Marcus Wellston some ten feet away.

Before any of the Thornhill table could respond, two events occurred simultaneously: The Crown Prince of England came to greet their party, and the captain of the guard announced Sir Louis’s entrance into the Great Hall.

When Prince George’s entourage appeared before the table, Bran’s party rose to their feet to bow low to their country’s future king. A rippling murmur of “Your Highness” filled the area. Prinny acknowledged their greetings and then turned to Bran. “Your Grace, I am pleased to see Thornhill now attending our simple gatherings.” The Prince gestured with a heavily ringed hand to the gold inlaid setting for his two hundred attendees.

Bran smiled with amusement at such understatement. “We are honored by your continued acknowledgment, Your Highness.”

“I am told that you served us well in the East.” Prinny examined each person at Bran’s table, purposely lingering over the females of the group.

Bran was a bit surprised to discover the Prince held a working knowledge of the Realm’s existence. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Might I prevail upon you to make the introductions, Fowler?”

“With pleasure, Your Highness.” Bran led the introductions for first his aunt, then Gabriel Crowden, the Averettes, Velvet, and Emily Nelson. He took great pride in each of his associates; they spoke well of him. Even more satisfying was the way the Prince took time to address each of them, rather than making a “group” recognition. Bran’s desire to change the reputation of Thornhill seemed to be working, and for a fleeting moment, he held qualms about Worthing’s plan to publicly expose some of the family secrets. However, it was too late to stop the brewing storm. Out of his eye’s corner, Bran could see Levering deliberately making his way toward them.

Bran continued, “And my sister, Your Highness, Lady...”

Before he could finish, Prinny interrupted, “Lady Fowler.” He bowed graciously over Eleanor’s hand. “Queen Charlotte was quite taken with you.”

Ella curtsied low. “Thank you, Your Highness, for remembering.” Bran noted the trembling in her voice, and he suspected it had as much to do with Levering’s obvious approach as it did with being so singled out by their future monarch. “But it is now Lady Worthing.”

Prinny appeared genuinely surprised. A raised eyebrow accented his curiosity. “Lady Worthing? And when did you become Lady Worthing?”

“Just last week, Your Highness.” Ella’s words were now barely audible.

Bran imperceptively motioned for Crowden to physically support her. “My sister and Viscount Worthing expressed their affections for some time, but I stubbornly refused because I felt my father’s long illness had denied Lady Worthing her time in Society.” It was a plausible lie, and Bran made a point of speaking loud enough for those in close proximity to his table to hear his words and to repeat them later for the rest of the
ton
. “I asked them to wait until she had experienced a Season, but the Earl of Linworth took a turn for the worst. The earl was anxious to see his son well settled, and as we had no real objections to the connection, I reluctantly agreed to a private ceremony at Linton Park where the Earl might witness the marriage himself.” This would reinforce what Ella and Kerrington had told everyone earlier.

“Very compassionate of you, Thornhill,” Prinny declared, and Bran saw several others of the Prince’s party nod in agreement.

The Prince leaned in to whisper something private to Eleanor, and she blushed with his attentions. Ella actually giggled when she said, “I am honored, Your Highness, but you understand the early affections of marriage.”

Just as Bran braced himself for the inevitable, Levering appeared from behind and caught Eleanor’s arm sharply in his grasp. Bowing to the Prince, he announced, “Your Highness, I am Sir Louis Levering of Huntingborne Abbey, Lady Eleanor’s betrothed.” Bran saw Worthing’s fists knot at his side and then realized he had a similar response to Levering’s touching Eleanor.

Not seeing Levering’s approach, Ella looked properly aghast, and the rest of the table, unaware of the extent of Bran and Kerrington’s plan, responded appropriately to Levering’s declaration. Around them, people gasped with Sir Louis’s audacity of speaking to the Prince before being spoken to and at his manhandling of Lady Eleanor Fowler Worthing.

“Lady...Lady Eleanor’s betrothed?” the Prince stammered.

Levering tightened his hold on Ella’s arm, and Bran saw her wince. “Yes, Your Highness,” the baronet puffed up with confidence.

Instantly, Worthing materialized and caught Levering’s hand, the one he used to hold Eleanor. Bran looked on with satisfaction as his friend bent the baronet’s hand backwards, obviously intent on causing pain. Levering had hurt Ella on more than one occasion, and it was plain to see Kerrington planned to take some form of revenge. “You will never touch my wife, Sir!” Worthing menacingly declared as he applied additional pressure to Levering’s hand. “No one, including our most Royal Highness, will dare deny me satisfaction, Sir Louis.”

Bran heard murmurs of agreement from those at neighboring tables. This was what they had planned: They would force Levering into a duel. Bran pushed forward, as did Crowden. “I will be your second, Worthing,” he declared.

However, Levering ignored the clear invitation to a duel, and instead, he protested louder. “How can that be, Eleanor? You are betrothed to me?”

Now, the Realm would have to do what they did best: improvise. As dueling was illegal in England, he and Kerrington required the Prince’s “silent consent” in order to carry out the challenge without punishment. Bran just hoped Ella could withstand what might follow.