Realm 05 - A Touch of Mercy (37 page)

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Aidan’s eyes had found her immediately. There she was in all her glory; his lips spoke her name before his heart closed about it, keeping it safely where it belonged.

“I will ask again,” the older man said. “What is the meaning of this madness?”

Aidan ignored the baronet. He looked upon the woman he loved. Except for the color of her gown, which did her no justice, she was exquisite. He approached slowly, and Miss Nelson stepped beside Hill. “I have missed your company, my Dear,” he said evenly.

The lady blushed from such open intimacies, but her eyes remained locked on his. “And I you, my Lord.”

Sir Lesley demanded, “What is the meaning of this, Mercy?”

Aidan gave Miss Nelson a knowing look before saying, “You meant, Sir Lesley, to force the lady into a marriage she would not have.”

Sir Lesley looked about the room to analyze the situation. “Who may you be, Sir?”

Aidan answered aristocratically, “Lexford of Lexington Arms in Cheshire.”

Sir Lesley offered an abbreviated bow. “I assure you, my Lord, Miss Nelson is my betrothed.”

Aidan smiled easily. He loved it when others attempted to fool him. “Even if that were true, Sir Lesley, a wedding could not occur today. Miss Nelson departed Lancashire in early November, and she has resided with me since mid December. Four months would require another calling of the banns. An illegal marriage is beyond you, Sir.”

Mathias Trent said from somewhere off Aidan’s left shoulder, “A second pronouncement of the banns has occurred, my Lord.”

Aidan glared over his shoulder at the man. He hoped Trent did something to justify his taking his vengeance out on the man. He owed the future baronet for the fire and for invading his household. “Yes, I fully comprehend fifteen days beginning on a Sunday would suffice to resolve the legality of exchanging of vows, but as you and Jamot were in my home less than a fortnight prior, and the lady’s room was still warm from her presence during that intrusion, three callings could not have occurred.”

Trent gestured wildly. “You speak an untruth, my Lord. I know no one named Jamot.”

“Talpur,” Miss Nelson said in explanation.

His mouth compressed. Time for a bit of honesty. “You must never keep secrets from me again, my Dear.” She shook her head in the affirmative before dropping their eyes. To Trent, he said patricianly, “Rahmut Talpur died nearly a year prior in the Cornish home of the Duke of Thornhill. Talpur had kidnapped the Duke’s daughter; he died at the hands of James Kerrington, the future Earl of Linworth. The man with whom you traveled is Murhad Jamot.” Trent’s countenance relayed his surprise, and Aidan knew satisfaction.

Trent continued, “Then we will wait for another proper calling. Nothing has changed: Miss Nelson remains my father’s betrothed.”

Aidan’s lips twisted. He would complicate their lives further with one more fabrication. “While she resided at Lexington Arms, Miss Nelson explained her brother’s wishes were not hers. The lady has chosen elsewhere, Sir Lesley. Miss Nelson became my wife in early February. The marriage has been consummated. There is the possibility Lady Lexford carries my child.”

Sir Lesley looked indignantly upon the lady. “Is this true?”

Thankfully, Miss Nelson did not even blink. Aidan thought she would make an excellent spy. “It is.”

“But why would you not inform me of this aberration?” Sir Lesley demanded.

“My wife fled your son’s threats and accusations. It was foolish of Lady Lexford not to trust me to protect her. Yet, with her brother’s previous abuse, I can forgive her the lack of forethought. When Trent overtook Lady Lexford upon the London Road, I imagine Mercy knew not how to divert Trent’s desire to make you the happiest of men.” Aidan prayed he would not go to Hell for his many prevarications. “Now, come, my Dear.” He extended his hand to Mercy. “It is time to return to Cheshire.” He meant to have her safely in his arms.

Sir Lesley did not appear appeased by Aidan’s explanation. While Trent reached suspiciously into a side pocket, the baronet raised a hand to still Mercy’s steps. “Why would you not say something when you arrived at Crandale Hall? You led me to believe you had been in Nottingham?”

Miss Nelson looked upon the baronet with empathy. “You, obviously, had been misled by both my brother and Mathias. When I arrived, you readily accepted the fact I should remain at Crandale. Would you have believed me if I spoke out against your eldest son?” she challenged. “Should it not have appeared odd that I have not left my quarters since my arrival? Or that the maids slept both inside and outside my door?”

“It was for propriety’s sake,” Sir Lesley protested weakly.

Miss Nelson shook her head in denial. “It was so I could not escape.” She gestured toward Aidan. “If you truly care for me, Sir Lesley, you would recognize I belong to this man. Even without the bonds of marriage, I would gladly remain with him forever.”

Aidan understood what she wished him to know, but his mind was set. Once they were clear of this debacle, he meant to make Miss Nelson his wife. “Lady Lexford does me honor,” he said softly in response.

She continued, “Why did you not ask yourself how Mathias came upon me if I were truly in Nottingham?”

Sir Lesley looked accusingly upon his son. “Speak to me of what Lord Lexford accuses. Were you in Cheshire a fortnight prior? Does your associate use an assumed name?”

Trent’s shoulders shifted defiantly. “While I saw to estate business I came across your wayward betrothed living with a man and pretending to be his relative. I simply applied a bit of persuasion to bring the lady home to you. I would not have you the subject of gossip.”

“But you would have me marry another man’s wife?” Sir Lesley charged.

Trent took several steps in his father’s directions, and Aidan countered the movement. He watched the man carefully. “Miss Nelson is not Lord Lexford’s wife!” Trent argued. “She used the name Mary Purefoy and presented herself as His Lordship’s cousin. There was no church ceremony!”

Sir Lesley’s eyes narrowed. “And how would you have knowledge of these facts?”

“I tarried with your old associate, Jonathan Rhodes, while I was in Cheshire.” Aidan had wondered if Rhodes had his hands in the opium trade invading Cheshire; it seemed he had an answer to his question. The baronet’s son had confirmed his suspicions. At a minimum, Rhodes offered sanctuary to those involved. He would use the information as a bargaining tool for secrecy on Rhodes’s part. “Rhodes’s estate abuts Lord Lexford’s and his late daughter was the viscount’s wife. Mr. Rhodes assures me what I say is true.”

Aidan opposed Trent’s self-assurance. “Father Rhodes does not wish to think upon another replacing his daughter as viscountess, and as to Miss Nelson’s use of another name, it was all prearranged by one of my longest acquaintances, the Marquis of Godown. The marquis has taken a liking to the baron and has assisted in Geoffrey Nelson’s rise to stability. Naturally, the baron sought the marquis’s assistance in locating his sister once all of Nelson’s resources proved futile.”

Aidan noted another deep blush upon the lady’s cheeks, but her expression did not change, a fact for which he was grateful. “The marquis and I served together upon the Continent, and Godown sought my involvement. When Miss Nelson’s location became apparent to the marquis’s hired investigators, Lord Godown sent Mr. Hill to retrieve the girl and to escort her to my home to protect Miss Nelson from difficult gossip. The name change and the supposed relationship hid her identity until she could be reunited with her family. Little did I anticipate the natural attraction. A special license assured our joining. The Archbishop has spent an inordinate amount of time in Durham with the renovations.”

It was a well-constructed tale. One furnishing too many details. If Sir Lesley had had the training Aidan held, the man would know every word an invention. A person, who means to deceive, attempts to address every possibility. Such tale spinning leaves him open to those with intuitive attributes to identify the holes in the story, but Sir Lesley was not one of those with broader insights. The baronet said, “I see. Then I beg your forgiveness, my Lord, for my family’s part in this disarray.”

Aidan added for proper measure. “Several of your men have suffered injuries, and one will require a coffin. You should see to their comfort soon.”

“I had no men outside,” Sir Lesley insisted.

Hill said obstinately, “I am not accustomed to entering a church with a gun in my hand.”

Again, Sir Lesley turned to his son. “You did this? You took Lady Lexford captive? Placed guards about the church? Brought shame to my door?”

“I acted upon your behalf!” Trent persisted.

Aidan added for good measure, “It is my belief that your son had a hand in a fire at my home, as well as having sponsored someone taking a shot at Lady Lexford, wounding my wife in her shoulder. I know from my servant’s lips that he purposely seduced Her Ladyship’s maid to spy on her mistress.”

Sir Lesley’s ire rose quickly. “I have given you too much freedom. Well, no more. I am not nearing my grave.”

Aidan watched as Trent’s self-possession took control of the man’s reason. “You are nothing move than a doting old man. I have made the baronetcy solvent. We are rich, Father. Because of me, all of your children will find a place in Society. Bloody hell! There is even enough to see your by blows have a respectable occupation.”

Sir Lesley blustered, “Mathias, you will bide your tongue in the church. I will have no son of mine speaking thusly.”

Trent hissed, “I am no longer a child. I am a man.”

Miss Nelson foolishly said, “A man who deals in opiates.”

Sir Lesley’s countenance paled. “Please tell me Lady Lexford speaks with an ill tongue? Have you made your fortune illegally?”

No answer came; instead a slight shift in Trent’s position relayed the man’s intent. Aidan acted from instinct. He shoved Sir Lesley from his path to wrap Mercy about the waist to drive her to the floor. From his eye’s corner, he saw the flash of Hill’s gun as his friend fired, and a bullet hissed past Aidan’s ear. An elongated “No!” filled the air.

Aidan’s weight had knocked the air from her lungs, but she was safe. From above, people rushed to where he suspected Trent laid bleeding, but Aidan’s attention rested solely on Mercy Nelson. “Speak to me,” he pleaded as he rolled to the side. Brushing the hair from the lady’s cheeks, Aidan gently cupped her chin. “Speak to me,” he said with a quick shake of Mercy’s shoulders.

Chocolate eyes slowly opened to meet his. Although still a bit glazed over, they recognized him, and she smiled sweetly. It was a moment Aidan would remember forever. “My Lord,” she whispered.

“Aidan,” he insisted.

Her smile widened. “Aidan.”

He kissed her with all the love in his heart. Mercy’s arms wound about his neck, and Aidan deepened the kiss. Except for the clearing of a deep throat and the appearance of a scuffed boot near his head, he could have remained as such forever.

“We should depart, my Lord,” Hill said seriously.

Aidan’s body thought differently, but his good sense took hold. “Can you stand upon your own?” he asked as he pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand in Mercy’s direction. She nodded her agreement and accepted his hand.

Hill whispered, “Present the curate with enough money to cover the damages and any funerals. We should move quickly.”

Aidan glanced to where Sir Lesley and his family tended the wounded Mathias Trent. “You are correct, as usual.” He dug twenty pounds from his purse and pressed it in the curate’s hand before directing Mercy around the scene.

However, before they could clear the building, a dark figure entered from the church’s nave. “I see I am tardy in my duties to the bride,” Jamot said with a smirk.

Aidan placed Mercy behind him. “I wish no trouble today, but I am not opposed to finishing our business,” he threatened.

“Our business dealt with whom within your household had betrayed you. I suspect that information is no longer a bargaining coin to my benefit.”

Aidan heard Hill cock the palm pistol his man carried. From beside him, Mercy said, “Let us pass, Jamot. Trent is finished, and he knows your identity. Because of your kindness to me on our journey, Lord Lexford will permit you to pass, but it must be over now.” Aidan watched the Baloch’s expression soften.

“I prefer my women with hair of coal rather than of the sun, but you have chosen well, Lord Lexford. This one has a brave heart. Your children will know greatness.” With that proclamation, the Baloch bowed and turned toward the exit.

Aidan shook his head in disbelief, but he did not tarry. He caught her hand to drag Mercy along behind him.

Racing to where the horses waited, Aidan lifted her to his saddle. “You must ride with me today.” He straddled the seat behind her and settled Mercy upon his lap. “You fit very well within my arms,” he whispered in her ear as he turned the horse. Her arms came about his waist, and she buried her face in the crook of Aidan’s neck. He inhaled her as he kicked the horse’s flanks.

“Being so speaks of home,” she said softly. Her breath warmed his neck. He agreed: She was his sun, his moon, his stars, his earth. His fears, his doubts, his triumphs, his everything.

“Where to, my Lord,” Hill called as he brought his horse alongside of Aidan’s.