Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet (23 page)

“The thousand and one nights,” Sonali declared.

“How many nights?” Bran stepped into the room.

Hips circling slowly, Velvet sashayed toward him. “The story of Scheherazade from the Thousand and One Nights. I bought Sonali the book when I was out today. I know the character is not from India, but the cultures are similar, are they not?”

“Persia is not India, but some things are the same.” Bran placed Sonali on her feet as he advanced on Velvet. “What brought this on?”

“No reason, Your Grace. It is just that Sonali enjoyed the stories of knights and princesses. I hoped the Arabian stories would please your daughter.”

“Obviously, they do.” Out of his eye’s corner, Bran caught a glimpse of Sonali twirling around and around. “And the silk?” he mused.

“Strips of material left from mine and Ella’s fittings.” Her eyebrow rose in surprise.

Bran smiled at her. “And what part do I play in this story?”

“You are the prince, Papa.” Sonali caught his hand and pulled Bran toward the nearest chair. “And we will be Scheherazade and dance for you.” She shoved Bran to make him sit. “Come, Cousin Velvet.”

The girl caught Velvet’s hands, and they circled around and around, holding on and laughing as they did so. Then Velvet started snapping her fingers, setting up a definite rhythm while Sonali twisted and turned in a swaying color. Bran soon joined with the rhythmic counts, watching his child making a memory with the woman he loved. Velvet began to sway to the rhythm herself, gamboling about in a gypsy abandonment. Bran’s eyes locked on her gyrating hips, hypnotized by their freedom. He clapped out a beat as Velvet cavorted about the room, enticingly increasing his desire.

Sonali finally collapsed in a heap of colorful silks, but Velvet swayed on for a few more alluring moments before she followed the girl down in a swirl of material. A flush of color brought happiness to both female faces.

“Would you read the story, Papa?” Sonali asked as she crawled toward Velvet and rested her head in the woman’s lap. “We have read about the City of Brass and the first voyage of Sindibad.” Bran fully appreciated the pleasure of the domestic scene.

“Where is the book?” he asked, looking around the room.

Velvet smoothed Sonali’s hair from her face. “On the table.” She motioned with a nod of her head.

Bran moved to retrieve the book. Reseating himself in the chair, he began,
"But when it was midnight Scheherazade awoke and signaled to her sister Dunyázád who sat up and said, "Allah upon thee, O my sister, recite to us some new story, delightsome and delectable wherewith to while away the waking hours of our latter night."

"With joy and goodly agree," answered Scheherazade. "If this pious and auspicious King permits me."

"Tell on," quote the King who chanced to be sleepless and restless and, therefore, was pleased with the prospect of hearing her story."
[1]
[i]

*

Thirty minutes later, he lifted a sleepy child from the floor, where she rested curled up beside Velvet. Balancing Sonali against him, he extended a hand to assist Velvet to her feet. When she stood before him, he lovingly caressed her cheek with his palm. “Would you join me in the library, my Dear?”

“It is late, Your Grace.” She unwrapped the silk strips from around her waist and began to fold them.

With his fingertip, Bran traced a line from her temple to her mouth’s corner. “I will not force you, but I would enjoy your company.”

Velvet held his gaze for a few heartbeats before nodding her agreement.

A quarter hour later, he walked casually into the library to find Velvet waiting for him on a nearby settee. “Thank you, for what you did tonight,” he said as he seated himself beside her.

“It was nothing, I swear, Your Grace.” She blushed and looked away.

“Bran,” he corrected. “I am Bran to you.” He took Velvet’s hand in his, turning it over to trace her life line with his finger.

Velvet audibly caught her breath. “Sonali’s mother must have been quite beautiful,” she whispered as she watched Bran’s finger stroke her palm.

“May I tell you something personal?” His voice came out raspy as his eyes fell on her bottom lip’s fullness.

“Anything, Bran.” Her voice sounded as rough as his.

Bran cleared his voice before reaching out to touch that enticing lip. “Ashmita reminded me of you or what I thought you might look like if you were older. She . . . she was in trouble, and I helped her. She was so alone and so vulnerable. I had thought that I would never see you again, and when I looked at her, I saw traces of the girl I remembered. I kept you with me by saving her.”

“Really, Bran?” Tears misted her eyes.

“Absolutely.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. “I thought of you every day.” Bran kissed her tenderly.

Velvet’s arms came around his neck, and she pulled herself closer to him. This was the moment she had wanted: the moment Bran acknowledged his feelings. Instinctively, she moaned, and he tightened his hold. His tongue traced the line of her lips, and Velvet opened for him.

The instant her lips parted, Bran lost his control. His tongue touched the soft tissue of Velvet’s mouth, and he was in heaven. He had dreamed of this moment, the moment of holding her close. He angled his head and pressed her against the furniture’s arm, following her down with his body, never releasing her mouth. Leaning across her, Bran could feel Velvet’s breasts pressed to his chest. His hand slipped from her waist up the side of her body. Bran’s mouth demanded more of her, and Velvet finally responded, shoving her tongue in his mouth. Bran sucked lightly on it as he groaned in desire. Instinctively, his hand followed her body’s line until he cupped her breast in his palm. Velvet stiffened momentarily, but a deepening of his kiss caused her to relax immediately. So hard he thought he might explode, Bran massaged her breast, squeezing lightly, tempting her with the unknown.

Reluctantly, he released the kiss, but his mouth hovered above hers as they both struggled for a breath. He watched her face closely as he rubbed his thumb across the nipple, feeling the nub hardened with his touch. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured. “I could spend my life touching you.”

What he said and how he said it caused a look of confused alarm to flit across her face, and he knew he had pressed too soon. “Bran?” she whispered.

He purposely moved his hand away. “I know...it is too soon.”

“I am sorry,” she mumbled. “I did not mean...”

“You have nothing of which to be ashamed.” Bran eased from her and pulled Velvet to a seated position. “I offer my apologies, my Dear. I am usually in better control.”
Except when it comes to you
. “I intended only to thank you for your consideration for Sonali. It was especially kind of you to think of my daughter’s heritage.”

“Bran,” she stumbled through the words. “I...I want...I want Sonali to like me. I can love her because she is yours.” Her words made Bran flinch, but so wrapped in her own thoughts, Velvet took no note. “And I do not want to return to the formal duke and his cousin. I...I liked...liked the kiss.”

Bran searched her countenance for her words’ truth. “And the other?” He knew he should not ask, but the words slipped out.

“It...it was,” she blushed and looked away quickly, “wanton.”

A smile broke the line of Bran’s mouth. “Is that bad?”

Velvet dropped her eyes, ashamed to meet his. “Not bad–just different.”

Bran tipped her chin up so her eyes would meet his. “I intend to kiss you again, and I cannot promised that I will not occasionally lose control. Can you live with that?”

She said softly, “I would like that very much.”

“May I hold you for a few minutes?”

Velvet nodded and turned her body to match his. Bran slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly to him. “Rest your head,” he whispered to her hair. “I just want to be near you. I feel I am losing my family all over again.”

Chapter 12

“Are you certain?” an angry voice demanded.

The hired interloper declared, “Saw it with me own eyes.”

“So, Fowler holds an affection, as you English so like to say, for his cousin Miss Aldridge?” The dark-skinned man circled the room as he thought out loud.

“The Duke kissed the lady in a most improper manner.” The informant warily followed the man’s movements with his eyes. “Ye want me to follow him some more?”

The pacing stopped. “That will not be necessary. See Talpur. He will reimburse you for your efforts.”

“Anytime, Gov’ner.” A smile said the informant was pleased with himself, but he judiciously slipped from the room.

Murhad Jamot stared out the window into the darkness. He remembered the girl Ashmita. He had wanted her for himself, but Mir had declared her unworthy. Even when Mir locked her away, and the others had taken her time and time again, Jamot could not bring himself to be among them. And then Fowler had kidnapped her and had taken Ashmita away, making the girl his own; and although he secretly felt gratitude for the man’s efforts, the insult still ate away at Jamot. “Maybe I should return the favor,” he said out loud, enjoying the idea as he imagined the look on Fowler’s face if he lost the dark-haired girl. “I will trade the girl for the emerald.”

*

Crowden placed the two volumes on Bran’s desk and smiled. “Levering’s hold on your sister disappeared like a
ghost
in the night.” Bran had paced the floor through most of the previous evening, waiting for Crowden’s return.

“Any trouble?” Bran fingered the gold edging on the books. He would read them before he turned them over to Ella. His own private punishment for not protecting Eleanor properly.

Crowden dropped into his favorite chair. “Nothing Lord Lexford and I could not handle. The viscount understands how to stage a diversion. He should be here later to apprise you of the details.”

Bran turned immediately to lock Lady Levering’s books in his safe. “I will send word to Worthing. The last impediment to his and Eleanor’s marriage is resolved. I am in your debt, Crowden. Name your price, and I will pay it.” Bran tested Godown once more to assure himself that the man would not put a claim on Velvet.

“I will bank your gratitude until I require it.” Crowden propped his feet on the desk’s corner. “When do we leave for Derbyshire?”

“I will wait for Worthing’s response, but he had planned for next Thursday or Friday for the ceremony. I will not tell Aunt Agatha until right before we leave. I do not wish to involve her in this mess until it is too late for Levering to make a countermove. I have invited the baronet to
join
my party at Prinny’s gathering. That is ten days after Eleanor’s wedding. She will return to London as Lady Worthing.”

“Then we will leave on Monday?”

Bran smiled deviously. “Monday seems appropriate. I will spread the word that we travel to visit the Duchess’s family. Her son’s estate is actually close to Worthing’s so no one will notice.”

“Will the Duchess accept the smaller wedding? I would imagine that she had planned something more elaborate.”

Bran noted the possibility. “Worthing’s mother is an old friend; plus, the idea that the viscount and Eleanor chose to marry where the Earl might attend will be plausible for everyone involved.”

“Worthing appears happy.” Both men stared off, envisioning such contentment in store for them.

“He and Ella connected instantly; she stumbled and fell into his arms. From that moment, anyone with eyes could see where it would lead. I am pleased for them; they found happiness with marriage, an unusual occurrence among those of our station.”

Talk of happiness and love appeared to bother Crowden. Quite unexpectedly, he said, “I have business to which to attend.” Lord Godown stood to leave.

“Will we see you at the Drake’s garden party?” Bran followed the Marquis to his feet.

“I think not.” Crowden straightened his waistcoat. “You should spend time with your cousin, Fowler. Quit playing games and simply declare your love.”

Bran said nothing, but he thought of kissing Velvet and of the feel of her body under his hands–how natural it seemed. He had also, of late, considered Eleanor’s near marriage disaster. He would not leave it to chance any longer; it was time to claim Velvet Aldridge as his own. He shook Crowden’s hand when they reached the door. “I will let you know if anything changes.”

*

As predicted, Lexford appeared later that day to apprise Bran of what happened at Levering’s “card party.” The way the viscount easily maneuvered Sir Louis had pleased Bran. “You are certain he locked away the fake diaries in his hiding place?”

“Absolutely.” Lexford poured himself a drink. “I followed him to the above stairs drying room. Crowden says he hide them in a dumbwaiter used for the laundry. Can you imagine?”

“Actually, I cannot. Maybe that is what makes it so ingenuous.” Bran’s mind discovered the possibilities. “So, you leave for Kerrington’s estate today.”

“I want to drop off a package from my mother to a cousin in Hertfordshire first. I will stay with Sir Harris’s family this evening. Lucifer is anxious to return to Derbyshire. I suspect he is sweet on Lady Eleanor’s maid Hannah. He speaks of her often.”

Bran half chuckled. “I never thought that big oaf would set his mind towards someone like Hannah.”

“Who is to say?” Lexford set his glass on a side table. “Kerrington and Lady Eleanor are not of the same mind, but they are gloriously in love. They could never hide it, even if they tried. I wish all of us contentment, but I do not anticipate such happiness. Will you still seek your cousin’s regard?”

“As soon as we settle everything with Levering, it is my plan.”

“Then maybe two of us will know for what we fought.” Lexford’s words held the loneliness–the sadness–they all knew as they made their way across the Continent, doing the British government’s work. The viscount stood suddenly, obviously bothered by the solemn mood. “I will see you at Linton Park. Travel safely.”

“You too, my Friend.” Bran followed Lexford to the door. “I am in your debt.” They both knew the words did not need to be said. It was understood; they would always rush to assist one another.

*

Bran wrote a letter to Worthing and Eleanor, advising them of the successful execution of Lexford’s ruse and Crowden’s thievery. He encouraged them to finalize their plans and assured them that the Fowlers would be at Linton Park by Tuesday of next week. Happy with the event’s turn, he went to find Velvet and Sonali. He would take them out for the afternoon, solidifying his claim on his cousin and quieting his growing qualms.

*

On Sunday, he acquainted Aunt Agatha with Ella’s upcoming nuptials. Surprisingly, she had seemed relieved with the news. The fact that Eleanor would join the Fowlers to one of the most respected families in England pleased the Dowager Duchess, and she had gladly accepted the secrecy to which Bran had sworn her.

“What will she do for a dress?” His aunt began to calculate her niece’s needs.

Bran patted her hand to calm her worries. “Kerrington reports that Lady Linworth has seen to all of Ella’s necessities.”

“Oh, dear Camelia–of course, Her Ladyship would tend to Eleanor. Camelia and Martin Kerrington were always the most giving people. Linworth and Norfield were at university together. They wooed Lady Linworth and me during our first Season.

“I recall, Aunt,” he said indulgently.

The Duchess sipped her tea. “I am thrilled that Lord Worthing sought out Eleanor on her trip with Miss Nelson and convinced her to accept his plight. I could not tolerate an alliance with that obnoxious Louis Levering.”

Bran purposely withheld the news that Ella had been with Kerrington for over a week. He would tell his aunt the truth of it after they arrived at Linton Park. The news of what his father had done to Eleanor and the way Levering had attempted to usurp the happiness Kerrington had offered his sister would wait until Ella was permanently in the “captain’s” arms.

*

Mid-afternoon of Tuesday brought the Thornhill carriages into Linton Park’s circular drive. Bran had noted how quickly the front door opened, and before he could assist the Duchess and Velvet from his carriage, Ella bolted from the house and into his arms. He welcomed her there as she clung to his jacket and sobbed her gratitude and her regrets. Bran lightly stroked her head, content to have his family safe at last. “It is well, Ella,” he murmured into her hair.

“I am sorry, Bran. I did everything wrong,” she mewed.

As he lowered his head to speak to her alone, he noted Kerrington stepping past him to assist the rest of Bran’s family from the coach. “We both made mistakes.” He dabbed the tears away with his handkerchief. “You did what was necessary to survive in our father’s world. I do not blame you. If anything, I blame myself for not being there to protect you. Now, that protection will be Worthing’s province.” His tone momentarily changed to one of hardness. “Yet, it shall be my true pleasure to exact a final revenge on Levering.” He lightly kissed Eleanor’s cheek. “This is a happy time–a time for you to begin a new life.”

“I do love His Lordship,” Ella assured him.

“Then let us celebrate that love.” Bran graciously turned her to the “love” awaiting her from her family. Surprisingly, he felt the emptiness immediately. He watched with pride as Aunt Agatha had enveloped Eleanor in an elongated hug, nearly bringing Ella to tears again as she relaxed into the Duchess’s embrace. Velvet lovingly grabbed Ella into a teasing hug, momentarily pretending to be vexed with Ella before caressing Eleanor’s face with both her hands. Bran heard Velvet mock, “You have a lot of explaining to do, Eleanor Fowler.”

But before Velvet could exact her revenge, he saw his sister direct Velvet’s attention to a middle-aged couple and a near reflection of the woman he loved. He observed how Velvet’s eyes misted in happiness before she scurried up the steps to throw her arms around the man and the girl. Bran, belatedly, realized the couple’s identity when he overheard Velvet squeal, “I cannot believe you are here!”

Watching the cozy scene, the qualms he had felt at Briar House over the past few days reappeared with a vengeance. Samuel and Alice Aldridge encompassed Velvet in a group hug. “Her uncle.” Inwardly, Bran confirmed in a whisper, “Her father’s brother.” Bran made the connection: “Cashémere.” Velvet’s sister had taken up the emotional welcome. Bran had become Velvet’s guardian with his father’s passing, but Samuel Aldridge could well reclaim her. He took several steps closer so he could eavesdrop on their conversation.

“We traveled to Kent upon learning of the late duke’s passing,” Samuel Aldridge, Viscount Averette, disclosed. “Fowler’s Cousin Leighton’s claims concerned us. Luckily, our carriage needed repairs right outside Linton Park, and Lady Eleanor was here, anticipating your arrival for her marriage. We thought it quite unseemly for her to be here with only a maid as her chaperone, but then Lady Eleanor and His Lordship explained how the Earl was ill, and they had rushed their wedding plans so his father might witness their nuptials. We have so much to discuss.” He and his wife hustled Velvet towards the open door.

“Allow me go in with you.” Cashé caught Velvet’s arm. “You must wish to freshen your clothing.”

Velvet glanced over her shoulder at him. Although his gut made him feel far from content, Bran forced himself to smile at her and to give a nearly imperceptible nod, encouraging Velvet to enjoy her family.

Aunt Agatha latched onto Camelia Kerrington, and Bran relished how they began to chatter away. “And Martin is feeling better?” The Duchess inquired as they climbed the steps to the main house, arm-in-arm.

“The Earl had a positive turn around,” Lady Linworth spoke with some caution. “He will adore speaking to you. He has regaled Eleanor with tales of your Harold. The three of us have a different perspective from the young folks. After you refresh your things, I want you to meet my newest grandchild. Baby Eleanor favors her father Lord Amsteadt, I fear, but Georgina is in there somewhere.”

“Baby Eleanor?” Agatha looked about in surprise. Bran shrugged his shoulders at her intentional glower.

Lady Linworth stopped in mid stride. “You do not know. Of course, you do not. Your niece and I delivered Georgina’s daughter less than a week ago.”

“My niece? Eleanor? Delivered Georgina’s baby?” This was news to Bran as well. He shot a quick glance at Kerrington, who nodded his confirmation. Obviously, with Bran on the road, he had missed some information.

“God sent Eleanor to this house just in time,” Camelia Kerrington continued. “She saved James’s heart and Georgina’s life.”

“Well...well, it seems I was left out of the inner circle.” Agatha leveled a glare on Bran, warning him he would meet her wrath later. “I was not aware that Eleanor was at Linton Park for more than a few days. You and I, Camelia, must place our heads together later. I need to know everything you know.”

Bran and Crowden joined Kimbolt and Lowery by the main door. “Did you have a pleasant journey, Your Grace?” Lowery led the way into the house.

“It was unseasonably warm,” Bran noted, turning to check on Mrs. Carruthers and Sonali, who had followed the rest of the party into the house, after exiting his second carriage.