Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet (26 page)

Worthing released Levering’s hand, shoving the man backwards before sliding his arm around Ella’s waist, placing her out of Levering reach and making the move to protect her. It was the reverse of Bran’s situation with Ashmita. Then, Bran protected the girl, and Worthing did the fighting. Now, James Kerrington protected Ella; Bran would handle the confrontation.

Eleanor found her voice with Kerrington’s support. “I never gave you permission, Sir Louis, to use my familiar name.”

Unpredictably, Levering blurted out, “I need no permission to use your familiar name, Eleanor. I have been more familiar than that with you.”

Bran heard the collective breath reverberate throughout the room. There was no turning back now. Eleanor buried her face in her husband’s shoulder, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Bran. A curse slipped from his lips as their father’s shame slapped them all in the face again. He held a reputation for staring down the flippant elements of the
ton
, a reputation, which had no real roots other than his final fight with the late duke; but tonight Bran would prove that repute true; he would look the cream of Society in the face and dare them to censure his family for his father’s sins.

“Sir Louis,” Prinny warned with a note of amusement in his voice, “I do not believe this is the time to make such charges.”

Bran quickly surveyed the Prince’s entourage and saw the
interest
building in their faces. There was nothing the
ton
enjoyed more than a good dose of gossip. He and Worthing would need to turn this for their own benefit. He shot a quick glance at his former “captain” and noted the same realization on his part.

“But, Your Highness, you do not understand.” Sir Louis pointed an accusatory finger at Bran’s family. “They...they thought themselves above a baronet. Ask them if you do not believe me. I have escorted Lady Eleanor about town on more than one occasion with the understanding that she would be mine at Season’s end.”

“Show him to be a fool,” Velvet spoke softly to Bran alone. “You can change this.”

He let his fingertip lightly touch her arm to let her know he had heard her before taking his place beside Levering. Bran would use his height to his advantage. Crowden made a counter move on the baronet’s other side, sealing off any chance of the man’s escape. Bran answered Levering’s accusation, forcing calmness into his voice as he said, “Your Highness, Sir Louis is our nearest neighbor in Kent, and although it is my understanding it has been several years since they last saw the baronet, while I was away in the East, my family held a previous acquaintance with him. Earlier, my sister had a riding accident in Hyde Park, and Sir Louis happened to be there, and he came to her aid. Those two factors allowed me to give permission to Eleanor to ride out with Sir Louis, but there was never anything beyond neighborly gratitude on my sister’s part. I am sorry if the baronet deluded himself into believing otherwise, but Lord Worthing engaged Eleanor’s heart long before we arrived in London–literally, from their first encounter.”

“Then why did you permit Lady Eleanor to travel to Nottingham with me?” Levering continued his accusations.

Velvet purposely moved to protect Ella from the
ton’s
prying eyes. Bran gave her a brief smile before responding. At least, Sir Louis had given them an opening that he could use to their advantage. “My sister, Sir Louis, never traveled anywhere with you!” his voice boomed out, emphasizing their version of the truth. “What craziness is this? You are a madman!”

“A madman?” Levering sputtered. “We will see about that. Ask him?” Levering pointed to Aidan Kimbolt, and Bran let himself relax. It was not the ending they had wanted, but things had fallen in place. When he heard Levering refer to Kimbolt as
Collins,
Bran knew they could win this.

Kimbolt stepped forward when Prinny motioned for his needed presence. Bran actually appreciated the Prince’s interference. It would legitimatize the outcome: Levering’s fall from grace. “It seems Sir Louis believes you might corroborate his story. Is there a reason Levering calls you
Collins
?” Prinny nearly laughed, and Bran considered joining him.

“That is his name,” Levering declared. “Allister Collins. He was in Nottingham with Lady Eleanor and me. In fact, I gave her to him for the evening.” Bran saw Marcus Wellston catch Kerrington’s arm to stay him. He prayed the viscount would not betray their interests before the Royal court.

By now, except for Ella’s sobs and Levering’s labored breathing, the hall was completely silent. Everyone waited for what Sir Louis might say next. Even Bran had to admit it was quite a show.

Kimbolt’s voice brought his attention back to the moment. “Your Highness, as I am not Allister Collins, I have no idea of what this gentleman means by his rantings. I am certain that you are aware, Your Highness, that I am friends with Thornhill, Crowden, and Worthing. In fact, this evening I entertained Fowler’s other cousin, another Miss Aldridge.” He motioned for Cashé to join him. “Your Highness, may I present Viscount Averette’s niece, Miss Cashémere Aldridge of Edinburgh.”

“Miss Aldridge.” As he did with all the women in Bran’s party, Prinny acknowledged the newcomer with an eye for her beauty.

Bran wondered why Levering simply did not accept his losses and leave. He now understood how the baronet had accumulated so many gambling debts: Levering did not know how to walk away from a losing hand.

The tittering and murmuring continued behind them as the
ton
dissected what all they saw and heard. Bran recognized the panic when it flared in the baronet’s eyes. Then the man foolishly demanded to know Kimbolt’s real name.

“I am Aidan Kimbolt, Viscount Lexford, as if it is any of your concern, Sir.”

“And I guess,” Levering pointed to Carter Lowery, “he is not your man of business!”

Lowery joined the group. “Your Highness, I am Carter Lowery, Baron Blakehell’s son. I work in the Home Office, but I am no solicitor by profession.”

Levering turned on Bran again. “Are you going to claim your sister never removed herself from London, Thornhill? She ran off in Nottingham and has been hiding ever since.”

Bran used his best condescending tone when he responded. “Each time you called at Briar House, I explained that my sister had taken a holiday to the Lake District. I simply did not tell you that she traveled to Derbyshire to meet Lord Worthing’s family when the Earl’s health demanded it. It was none of your concern, Sir.”

“You permitted a duke’s sister to travel alone?” Levering charged.

“Besides her maid, Lady Eleanor traveled with Miss Nelson.”

“There is no Miss Nelson!” Levering’s voice resonated in the room.

Bran nearly laughed out loud. It had been Ella’s idea to include the Averettes’ governess in their party. Sir Louis had no idea what Pandora’s box he had just opened. Bran projected his voice to be heard over the din building around them, but when he saw Kerrington encouraging Eleanor to voice her own objections, Bran cleared his throat loudly to silence the others.

Eleanor raised her head and purposely straightened her shoulders. His sister was a magnificent woman. She addressed her remarks to the Prince rather than to Sir Louis. “I believe, Your Highness, that my brother introduced you to Miss Nelson.” He heard the wavering in her voice, but his indomitable sister raised her chin in defiance. He loved her for her ability to survive–her ability to rise above the chaos surrounding them.

“I believe he did, Lady Worthing.” Prinny turned his attention to the school teacher-looking woman standing quietly among the Thornhill party. In a silent request, Bran prayed the Prince would ask the right questions.

“Miss Nelson.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The woman refused to raise her eyes to Prince George.

“You will tell me the truth.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Have you recently traveled in what is known as the Lake District of England?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And have you spent time at Viscount Worthing’s estate in Derbyshire?”

“I have, Your Highness. It was an honor to be among Lord Worthing’s guests at his wedding to Lady Fowler.”

“Are you related to either the Fowlers or the Kerringtons?”

“No, Your Highness. My parents were Baron and Lady Nelson of Lancashire.”

“It is impossible!” Levering seethed. “I made her up. There is no Miss Nelson.”

The snickering and the censure became more prevalent as Levering turned visibly red. Bran came closer to shouting with joy. Sir Louis appeared a total fool before everyone. No matter what the man claimed now, no one would believe him.

Putting that assumption to the test, Levering pulled one of the black diaries, the ones they had planted in his home, from underneath his coat. Bran shot a quick glance at Crowden and Kimbolt, the two men who made this moment possible. They both gave nearly imperceptible nods–silently saying all was well. Their plan was complete: Levering committed social suicide.

“So, you do not believe me. Well, you will believe this. Read it, Your Highness. It is my mother’s diary. In it, she describes her relationship with the late Duke of Thornhill and a very young Lady Eleanor.” The crowd pressed forward to hear better what Levering said.

With Kerrington’s continued encouragement, Ella looked down her aristocratic nose at the baronet. “My father was a duke, Sir. He would have had nothing to do with a man who only achieved his title because three cousins died in a freak drowning accident. My family has controlled the dukedom for nearly two hundred years. As for your mother, she threw herself at my father, but he loved only the Duchess Amelia Braton Fowler.”

“May she rest in peace,” Aunt Agatha said into the growing tension. “My sister was of the finest cut.”

“Here, here.” Lord Witherspoon confirmed. “Have we not heard enough of this whippersnapper’s lies, Your Highness?”

“Read it, Your Highness,” Levering insisted. “Read it out loud for all I care. It is not very flattering to my parents, but I am willing to shoulder their shame to prove why Thornhill and Worthing despise me and why they have set about to smear my good name.”

Prinny took the book and handed it to one of his footmen. “Ask the captain of the guard to come to us.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The man cleared a way through the crowded room.

“Do you have a favorite entry, Sir Louis?” Prinny motioned for the servant to take up the book.

“December 5, Your Highness.”

“Please read to us the entry dated December 5.” Prinny leaned on his walking stick, looking casually amused by the scene.

“At once, Your Highness.” The guardsman turned to the required page and cleared his throat before reading in a voice, which reverberated off the walls’ gold inlay. Bran fought the urge to smile. He had written this entry to replace the one Lord Lexford had related.

December 5

Robert took too much to drink again tonight. Between the port and his love of the black powder, he is often incapacitated, although from the beginning, he was never much good that way. This evening, I found him passed out in his bed, dressed in my favorite nightgown. Sometimes I believe he looks better in it than do I.

Bran relaxed as Sir Louis blustered with denial. “Stop it!” Levering ordered, before charging forward to grab at the book. “That is not what it says. It must not be the correct diary.”

“It is
your
proof,” Bran’s could no longer hide his hatred for the baronet. He turned to the Prince, “Your Highness, I believe we have tolerated Sir Louis’s tirades long enough. He has slandered my father, my sister, my friends, and me. Everything he has said was false. I am a loyal Englishman and do not wish to break English law, but I demand satisfaction. I will not permit Lord Worthing to do this; he has a family: an ailing father, a mother, a son, a sister and brother, a new niece, and a new wife, my sister. I have only my daughter, and I am willing to put aside my title and return to the Continent for the gratification of running Sir Louis through with a sword.”

Levering began to edge to the side, but Crowden and Swenton immediately blocked his retreat.

“If you do not mind, Your Grace, I find this all so amusing, and I would like to hear more of Lady Levering’s words.” Prinny motioned the guardsman to continue before placing a good-natured pat on Bran’s shoulder. It was not his first choice, but Bran knew the diary could no longer hurt them so he reluctantly acquiesced.

Louis recently lost more money at gambling. I wish that he spent as much time in his university studies as he does in the gaming hells and houses of ill repute. Of course, what should I expect? The boy is exactly like his father, and I do not mean Robert. If he were Robert’s son, I would need to dress him as my daughter.

Again, people began to laugh, including the Prince’s cortege, and everywhere Levering looked smiling faces and pointing fingers greeted him. “Cease!” he demanded, rushing at one group and then another. “Stop it this moment!”

“He would look fine as a female; he has attractive eyes,” Lord Witherspoon taunted. “Maybe he is Levering’s son, after all.”

“If he is not Levering’s son, then he is not the baronet.” Marcus Wellston’s voice silenced the growing turmoil.