Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet (31 page)

“It seems to me we need to divide and conquer,” Worthing began. “Let us reason what we know of these men.”

“Jamot is the more dangerous of the two,” Lord Lexford observed.

Lowery took the drink Ella silently offered him. “I agree. Talpur is willing to trade Sonali for the emerald. Although he threatens her life, I do not believe he intends to hurt her. She is just a bargaining ticket to him.”

“And he took Sonali to your old home in Cornwall so she will not be frightened,” Ella spoke quietly as she came to stand beside Bran.

“Where, on the other hand, Jamot makes no demands, which makes him quite dangerous. We have no idea where he might be hiding Miss Aldridge or what he plans to do with her,” Worthing noted. “Lexford needs to go to Cheshire; he is our only chance to find Miss Aldridge in Liverpool.”

Ella took Bran’s hand, tightening her grip. “Who will you go after, Bran? The child you rescued or the woman you love?”

He reached out to touch her cheek. “What should I do, Ella? How do I save them both?”

She raised her chin and spoke with authority. “Listen to your captain; James will know what to do.” Ella turned to look at her husband. Her eyes told him she believed in him–in his ability to solve this dilemma.

Worthing returned her gaze. His family had accepted her from the first day she had breezed through his door, disheveled and scared, having escaped from Levering. While he was away, she had saved his sister Georgina’s life and that of his niece. If the incomparable Eleanor Fowler Kerrington believed in him, he would find a way to resolve this. “It seems to me that you need to go to Cheshire with Kimbolt. You two are the strongest fighters, and you will need to be to defeat Jamot. I will take Lowery with me. We will cut across the moors. We can use Thomas’s estate near Exmoor as our base. Georgina’s husband has connections everywhere. He was once part of the Realm and can be trusted.”

“Lord Amsteadt?” Lowery questioned.

“We all settle down at one time or another, Lowery,” Worthing noted.

“But the red hair?” Carter protested. “How did he ever go incognito?”

“Did you ever hear of a wig?” Lexford teased.

Worthing took up the plan again. “Sonali will trust any of us; she is used to being with both Lowery and me.”

Hellsman asked, “May I aid you some way, Your Lordship?”

“I have an idea, but you may find your trial more demanding than what any of the rest of us face. We need Lord Averette out of the way. If he hears of Miss Aldridge being in Liverpool, the viscount will contact authorities and stir up so much trouble that Jamot will go into hiding and will likely kill his hostage. Right now, Jamot will assume Bran is on his way to Cornwall. Could you return to your estate, assure Lord Averette that his niece is not here, and then offer to escort the viscount to London to look for her? The man is a dinosaur, but if you could do this, it would make our task so much easier.”

“I have business with my solicitor, and I want to check out a gelding Howard Reed is offering at Tattersalls.”

“Thank you, Lawrence.” Carter gave his older brother a wink of approval.

“You will be safe, Carter?” Lawrence Lowery moved to say something private to his brother.

Eleanor now stood before her husband. “And what of me, Lord Worthing?”

“You have the hardest task of all, my Dear: You must convince my parents that the sudden appearance of three Realm members and Lord Hellsman means nothing. You must tell my son about our change in family and keep Miss Cashémere from running all over the English countryside once she tracks her uncle here. And, finally, you must protect our child from harm.” He kissed her tenderly as the rest of the room looked on.

“I love you, James Kerrington,” she whispered. “Bring them all home safely.”

He nodded before bringing her fingertips to his lips. “Let me order those horses. Ella, would you ask Mrs. Bentley to prepare food for us to have on the road?”

“Bran and I will eat here. We have a shorter trip to my estate, and we need to create a list of people who might have knowledge of Jamot. May we use your study, Worthing?”

“Certainly.”

“I will take my leave,” Hellsman moved to the door. “It will take several hours to return to Blake’s Run; I assume that I would not be telling Lord Averette a Banbury tale if I said Lord Worthing was away on business, and His Grace was not a member of this household.”

“I would never wish for your word to be taken lightly, Brother.”

Hellsman smiled, “I am proud of you, Carter.”

“And I am of you, Lawrence.”

Then everyone was in motion–a task to complete.

“Lucifer will not be happy to be dragged away from your sister’s maid so soon,” Lexford noted as they entered Worthing study.

Bran mused, “I had forgotten about his suspected interest in Hannah.”

“I fear the big oaf quite affects her.”

“Yes, I know exactly how he feels.”

Chapter 16

She did not know how long they had traveled; she had guessed six days, but as he had kept her drugged, she could have easily have lost count. Not certain where he was taking her, Velvet had fought for some sense of what happened. She remembered confronting the man for being on her uncle’s property; she remembered the struggle when he had grabbed her, but little else since.

“What are you doing here?” she had demanded. “I thought my uncle made it quite clear that you were not to be on his property. You frightened Edana with all your questions,” she had foolishly charged.

And then before she could react or to protect herself, the man had caught her around the waist with one hand and across her mouth with the other, and he had dragged her to his waiting horse. She had kicked at him, but her dainty slippers were of little use against his boots. Finally, a cloth across her mouth eventually left her with nothing but blackness.

Rocking back and forth on the seat of the carriage, she kept her eyes closed, not wishing him to know that the drug no longer coursed through her veins. For the past two nights, she had slept in the carriage–locked in, gagged, and bound, unable to even move and no way to signal for assistance. Her captor had slept in an inn. She knew it to be an inn because she had recognized the sounds of the comings and goings of the other carriages and of the stable hands as they handled the horses. Other than the driver, she did not think anyone else had accompanied them on this journey.

At the moment, she regretted that confrontation in her uncle’s orchard, but in reality, Velvet instinctively knew that the man would have taken her eventually. He, obviously, had targeted her for his own reasons–reasons she suspected had something to do with Bran and with the earlier attacks on her and Ella. Although if her captor had thought Bran would come for her, he was sadly mistaken. Three months prior, she had left London for Scotland. Her Uncle Samuel had demanded that she leave Briar House and Bran behind, and she had foolishly acquiesced. Velvet had thought that she did it for Ella and for Bran, but she now realized that she did it for herself. She had wanted Bran to prove his love–to, literally, come for her–to be her prince–her knight in shining armor. Yet, he had not come–did not even answer her letters. Instead, Brantley Fowler had abandoned her to the attentions of some Scottish border lairds, too crude for her sensibilities–men who openly spoke of bedding her. Now, all for which she could hope was her uncle might seek her release. However, even that possibility appeared false. Velvet expected she would have to design her own rescue. She would have to be Joan of Arc, Elizabeth I, and Scheherazade all rolled into one–a fighter, a strategist, and a conspirator combined.

“Open your eyes, Miss Aldridge.” She heard his voice from the other side of the coach. “Would you like a moment to attend to your personal needs?” He regularly took her from the coach so she might relieve herself behind a bush or a cluster of trees. Each time he had untied her hands, allowing her a few minutes to work the circulation into her fingers. However, he had refused to untie her ankles. He had only loosened the ropes far enough that she might waddle like a duck to a secluded place. Trying to handle her gown without being able to step at least shoulder-width apart had created a problem, but Velvet had rejected her initial inclination to beg him for more freedom.

She used her bound hands to push herself to a seated position. Velvet did not attempt to answer him; she would not acknowledge the man’s abbreviated kindness. “We should be at our destination shortly after dark. That is another three to four hours. We will stay at one of my warehouses until next week’s end when the ship for which I have been waiting arrives.”

“Where are we?’ Despite her resolve to not interact with the man, curiosity had ruled.

“Back in your precious England.” The man said nothing else. He tapped on the carriage’s ceiling, indicating that the driver should pull up to allow her time to meet her female needs.

When the coach had come to a complete stop, her captor loosened the leather straps holding her hands. Then he opened the door to let down the steps himself. “Do not make me be cruel to you, Miss Aldridge. It matters not to me whether you are covered in cuts and bruises when I turn you over to Fowler.”

“And when will that be?” She had turned her head as he helped her to negotiate the steps. She had wanted a better look at her surroundings. Velvet knew that she should have kept her mouth shut, but this was the first time since he had covered her mouth with his disgusting handkerchief and had forced her to breathe in the drug that had made her sleepy that she could put together a string of coherent thoughts. “What makes you think His Grace has your precious emerald, and if he does, why he would trade it for my life?”

“I had you followed, Miss Aldridge. I have my reports of you and your duke in some most intimate settings.” He pointed to a nearby copse of trees for her convenience. Velvet did not respond to what he just said. The thought of someone spying on her and Bran bothered her deeply; yet, she would not give her custodian the satisfaction of knowing such thoughts terrified her. Instead, she concentrated on walking with bound feet and a long gown across uneven ground.

Luckily, the man had kept a healthy distance and had given her some privacy. Looking around, she tried to imagine where he had taken her. No longer in the Scottish midlands, they were obviously near the coast, but which one–eastern or western? Five days from Edinburgh on the eastern coast would have brought them somewhere near Lincolnshire or Norfolk. She did not think the dark-skinned man would have returned her to Kent. Instead, as she inspected the area in which she now stood, Velvet thought they might be on the western coast. Coming to the west, it would take at least two days to traverse Scotland–maybe three. Now, she guessed that she traveled in Cumbria or Lancashire. If so, she was not far from Ella in Derbyshire or even from Satiné in Manchester. Quickly, Velvet realized that she would be able to find Ella more easily than to find her youngest sister. Could she escape and locate Ella’s home? She knew that Lord Worthing would see to her safety if she could reach Linton Park on her own. Even if she was wrong and was in Lincolnshire, she could go inland to the Kerringtons and safety. She just needed to manage her own escape.

*

It had taken Kerrington and Lowery nearly three days of hard riding to reach his brother’s estate in Devon, but Thomas Whittington had been waiting for them. Shepherd had sent word of their search, and Amsteadt already had men in place to aid in the rescue.

“Ah, Thomas, I have never been so happy to get out of the saddle,” Kerrington said as they climbed the steps at Whit Hill. “How is that lovely niece of mine?”

“Lenore is perfect.” Whittington clapped Kerrington on the back. “We will speak privately a little later,” he murmured as his wife Georgina Kerrington Whittington burst through the door and rushed to Lord Worthing’s open arms. Tears of joy streamed down her face. “Let the man in the house, Georgina,” Amsteadt teased.

“Do not chastise me, Thomas.” She took her brother’s proffered arm. “I miss my family.” She leaned into Kerrington’s shoulder. “How are Eleanor and Mama and Papa and Daniel?”

Worthing laughed at her bubbly nature. “Mama and Papa are excellent; Papa is even spending some time out of bed each day. Daniel is growing like a weed, and Eleanor...well, Eleanor is
increasing
.” He began to silently count to ten to see how long it would take for his information to register with his sister. He made it to two before she jumped into his arms again.

“Oh, James, I knew it!” she beamed with happiness. “A houseful of children is what you need.”

The ever-practical Whittington turned them toward the house again. “You need food and some place to stretch out your legs. Come, everyone.” He dropped behind his wife and her brother. “How are you, Lowery?”

“A little saddle sore.” He laughed lightly. “Two days and nights of chasing Fowler to Derbyshire and three days to here; it reminds me of my days with Wellington.”

“We will see you settled, and then we can discuss what is to be done in Cornwall.”

*

Bran and Aidan Kimbolt arrived at the viscount’s property late on the same day that they all met at Linton Park. Lexington Arms sat on a rich land–flat and green, looking like the squares on a chessboard, stretched by ribbons of water feeding the soil and keeping it dark and moist. Built on a slight rise, Lexington Arms reflected the style of the early part of the previous century. Bran knew that the main house had suffered a devastating fire, nearly leveling the original structure. A large house with three star-like wings, Lexington Arms sported massive oak doors and window frames, opening to rooms with tall ceilings and crown molding.

“Make yourself at home,” Kimbolt stated as he handed his riding things to the waiting butler.

Bran laid his belongings on a nearby table. “How much further to Liverpool?”

“Thirty miles or so.” Kimbolt led the way to a small dining room. “Let us find something to eat and some rest tonight. We will hit the road early in the morning. I sent Lucifer ahead to make connections and to see what he could find out about Jamot. Despite his size, the man blends in quite nicely, a true asset in this business.”

“I pray we are not too late.” Bran sat dejectedly in the chair to which Kimbolt gestured.

“According to Wellston’s note, Jamot traveled by carriage, which means they needed to stay to the main roads. Marcus sent word by relay, with men riding day and night, as well as sending one of our yachts with the information. If what the earl says is so, Jamot and your lady could not reach Liverpool until today or tomorrow at the earliest. Jamot cannot take Miss Aldridge into the inns without creating a scene. Why should he hurry? His ship is a week away. We will be in time.”

*

“What do we know?” Kerrington, Lowery, and Whittington sat together after supper in the Amsteadts’ Devon home. Georgina tended the new baby.

Whittington leaned back in the chair. “I rode to Cornwall yesterday. Talpur has opened the house and has armed guards stationed about it. I met up with Deston Hollander. He will serve as our local contact.”

“Why would this Hollander fellow assist us?” Lowery stretched his legs out fully.

Whittington poured them each a glass of wine. “Fowler saved Hollander’s sister Daisy from Sir John Cartwright. Sent her to his house in Venice. Hollander pledged his allegiance as soon as he heard Fowler required his assistance.”

“Is Talpur in residence in Thornhill’s former residence?” Kerrington gathered all the facts.

“As expected, he arrived late yesterday afternoon. Where he has been the past five days, I have no idea, but he came with a large package–a large wooden box of some girth carried into the house.”

“Please tell me Talpur did not transport that poor child in a box–a coffin, no less–across southern England.” Lowery sat forward, no longer relaxed.

Kerrington, too, moved close, as if to share a confidence. “I studied Mir’s closest men after we allowed Fowler to take Ashmita to safety in our Bombay house. It was my duty to know our enemy. Although I am certain the child is very frightened, Talpur will not hurt Sonali physically. Talpur will fight any man with a vengeance, but women and children have little to fear from him.”

Whittington added, “We go in the morning?”

“I want to reconnoiter the area in the daylight.” Kerrington lowered his voice. “You do not need to go, Thomas. You have done enough.”

“And miss out on the most excitement I have experienced in the past five years! Tell me you will not insist that I remain behind, James,” Thomas Whittington pleaded.

“You are a new father, Thomas,” Kerrington argued.

Whittington gave his brother in marriage a level stare. “As you will soon be also. We all accepted the danger when we aligned ourselves with the Realm. My God, Fowler’s former neighbor Lucien Simms was once a Realm member. Even he is willing to take up arms.”

“That old man?” Lowery remarked.

“England has fought many wars, Lowery, and you are not the first of the Realm to serve,” Whittington observed.

“So, how can Simms assist us?” Kerrington turned the conversation to the rescue. He had not decided to include his sister’s husband, but he understood Whittington’s desire to be involved. Over the past two years, he had given up his life as a government agent to concentrate on running the Linworth holdings. Kerrington actually relished those moments over the last few months where he had needed to exercise his
skills
: capturing Harry Sparks after his shooting Eleanor’s horse at Thornhill, chasing Ella’s attackers in Hyde Park, plotting Levering’s downfall, and, now, organizing this rescue. His heart raced with the excitement.

Whittington glanced around, making certain no one else could hear, a foolish act in his own house, but understandable in this situation. “Simms says Fowler built his house on the ruins of the old monastery. Accessible from the wooded area behind the house, there are tunnels leading into the cellar.”

“We can enter the house without Talpur’s knowledge?” Kerrington jumped on the idea.

“That is what Simms says.”

*

“Cashémere...Lord Yardley,” Ella acknowledged as she entered the drawing room.

Marcus Wellston scrambled to his feet and offered Eleanor a bow. “Lady Worthing, thank you for receiving us.”