Realm 05 - A Touch of Mercy

by Regina Jeffers

  Mercy paused as a draft from below caught the flame to send it dancing with the house’s shadows. “If only,” she whispered to the darkened house. If only her parents had not died. If only Geoffrey had not succumbed to the temptations of youth. If only Grace had not fled alone into the night. If only her relationship with Viscount Lexford was based in truth.

  With a shrug of her slender shoulders, Mercy continued her descent. Her only option was to play the cards she and Mr. Hill had dealt. By proving herself worthy of his kindness, she would see that the viscount never knew regret for extending his benevolence to her.

  Reaching the library, she eased open the tall door and slipped inside. With her small candle, she lit a brace sitting on a nearby table before snuffing out the light she had brought with her. A sigh of approval escaped as Mercy looked upon the shelves lined with books of all sorts. “If only I could live in such a room,” she said softly.

  “Could you really remain within these walls?” Mercy spun around to find the viscount slouched in an overstuffed chair before the hearth.

  “My Lord!” she gasped. “You gave me quite a fright.” Immediately, Mercy thought of the inappropriateness of their meeting so late and thusly dressed. “I…I should go,” she murmured. Her hands fumbled with the single candle.

  *

  When the door had opened, Aidan had expected Mr. Hill. For the past few years, other than when Aidan had tarried with the Fowlers, Lucifer had made it his mission to ensure that Aidan found his bed. His man of all means was one of the few who knew how Aidan had suffered with the forced marriage and the tragedy, which had beset Lexington Arms. Instead of Hill, his lovely “sister” had slid into the room.

  On this evening, Aidan had brought his misery to this particular room because the library had always been his mother’s pride and joy. As he had nestled in one of the chairs before the fire, he chastised himself for not having put more effort into bringing the room to order, if for no other reason than to honor his mother’s memory.

  He wondered if he had made a mistake by returning home. Despite the pleasant hours spent with Miss Purefoy, he could not shake the feeling his house was sucking the life from his lungs. He supposed he could remain in his London townhouse, where the ghosts were not so prevalent. His memory loss was like a demon he could not face down. He gasped for air as if he could not breathe–as if he said a prayer for God to release him from the voices in his head, and suddenly the door had opened to his Christmas angel.

  In silence, Aidan had watched the girl. Part of him wished to push her away. To drive Miss Purefoy from his life. His senses said she was not what she appeared to be. But a more basic need simply wished to enjoy her company while he may. After all, if Mary Purefoy meant to play him, she had made no move to demand outrageous sums of money. His purse had known only the cost of a few notions and cloth.

  “My Lord! You gave me quite a fright!” she had gasped when she became aware of his presence. Aidan had enjoyed looking upon Miss Purefoy’s slender form. The drab gowns she wore during the day did an excellent job of disguising the woman’s femininity. In sharp contrast, the thin nightrail and robe displayed curves the woman had hidden until this moment. Especially with the light behind her, which outlined strong legs and luscious hips.

  “I…I should go,” she said with a flush of color. The girl turned to leave, but Aidan made short business of the distance between them.

  “Do not depart on my behalf.” He caught her hand, and a tingle of excitement shot up his arm. Aidan shoved away the awareness. “Permit me to assist you in finding a book.”

  The girl’s eyebrow arched sharply. “I likely know the shelves better than you, my Lord. I have studied them daily for the past few weeks.”

  Aidan chuckled. “No doubt, my Dear, but indulge me a moment. I am in sad need of company.” He meant to take shameless advantage of the lady’s good nature to satisfy his self-possessed mood.

  A look of concern crossed Miss Purefoy’s countenance. “How so, my Lord?”

  Aidan silently debated on whether to confide in the woman. After all, he knew so little of Miss Purefoy, but in the deep recesses of his mind, Aidan could hear his mother’s voice telling his late Aunt Janelle that one simply had to listen at a ball or a social to learn all the latest gossip. “People will tell complete strangers their most intimate details. Every ache. Every sordid mistake they have made. Perhaps it is the anonymity. Perhaps it is cathartic simply to say the words aloud,” his mother had said when she had shared a picnic lunch on the lawn with her children. It was so like the former Lady Lexford to pull her children from the nursery to permit them time to be boisterous and childlike.

  “We could simply converse, my Lord,” Miss Purefoy suggested.

  “I would have thought we were quite out of words,” he said lamely, but Aidan escorted the lady to a nearby settee. He politely placed a lap rug across her legs to minimize any temptation. He settled across from her. “Should I ring for some tea?”

  The lady protested. “Oh, my, no. Please leave the servants to their sleep. They have worked steadily to set the house aright for the Festive Days.”

  Aidan appreciated Miss Purefoy consideration for his employees. “Then may I interest you in a glass of sherry?”

  “That would be delightful,” she said with a bright smile.

  Aidan filled a glass for them both. Returning to his seat, he stretched out his long legs before him. “We have managed to extend our informal silence to some five minutes,” he said with a chuckle. “Would you care to suggest a subject for our discourse, my Dear?”

  Miss Purefoy’s lips twisted in a tight frown as she searched for a topic. “I know,” she said with bright revelation. “Tell me what you thought of Mr. Roberts’s Christmas sermon.”

  Aidan had expected her to bring up the latest London fashions, but he was slow to learn Miss Purefoy was not like other young women. He had gotten caught up in her eyes and had not immediately responded. Finally, he admitted, “I am not certain I understood the man’s emphasis on what the three kings found in Bethlehem.”

  She sat forward in excitement. “Did you not? I thought the whole idea that God might have stopped time while the world decided what course to take very enlightening. I mean, I have often stared into the Heavens and wondered if I would have had the tenacity to follow a star in search of a king.”

  Aidan held no doubt she would not only have followed God’s star, the lady would have hitched her coach to it to permit the celestial being to tug her along behind it. In truth, he thought her the most remarkable woman of his acquaintance. Her assumption reminded him of one he and Kerrington and Wellston had had on one of those less than chilly December nights in Persia. They had assumed the role of guardians along a dangerous pass through the mountains.

  “Do you miss December snow?” Kerrington has asked as he eyed the narrow opening for movement.

  Wellston chuckled, “Cold has its benefits. In northern Northumberland, snow can begin as early as October and last well into April.”

  Aidan had always been wistfully tied to home, but this particular incident had occurred long before he had received the news of Andrew’s proposal to Susan. “Do you suppose those in England are gazing upon the same stars as are we?” he had asked the silence, which rested heavy between him and his friends. “And what if we followed the stars? Would we find our way home?”

  Kerrington had scowled deeply. “I have no reason to follow any trail, which will return my feet to England.”

  “Nor I,” Wellston had concurred.

  Their adamant declarations had brought on Aidan’s scowl. At the time, he had thought he possessed a reason to return: A woman for whom he held a tender regard. Perhaps if he had arrived in Cheshire earlier than he did, things would have been different. Mayhap the condition of his heart would not be one ripped to shreds. “Decisions,” he said to the lady. “Decisions are only clear in hindsight.”

  Miss Purefoy’s lips set in a tight line. “It amazes me tha
t so many people are titular about the very event which changes everything in their lives. The same way people do not accept God when He has given them the opportunity to make the decision to serve him. Do you not agree that the most contemptible of sinners requires His grace as much as the most loyal of saints?”

  Aidan watched the woman carefully; every nerve in his body said she spoke from the heart, but could he trust someone again? “I often wonder how I might trust a man who possesses only a vague allegiance to God.” Or to family, he thought bitterly. His heart squeezed, and he tamped down the desolation rarely far from his mind.

  “I have always thought a man who fluctuated in his dealings with his fellow man or in his relationship with his wife could not truly love God,” the lady declared baldly.

  If Miss Purefoy thought every man who did not respect his wife ungodly, then England would be filled with infidels. And what would her opinion of him say of his own worth? Aidan murmured, “We all feel guilty and ashamed for not being everything to everyone.”

  Miss Purefoy’s eyes widened. Her far too wise gaze settled upon his countenance. “Is that statement the crux of what keeps you from your bed, my Lord?”

  Despite her evaluation’s accuracy, Aidan shook off her words. “You have no experience to understand my loss,” he said more tersely than he intended.

  Immediately, she was on her feet. He expected her to storm from the room, but instead, Miss Purefoy crossed to where he sat and dropped to her knees before him. She leaned against his leg, and Aidan felt her warmth shoot up his body to land squarely in his chest. The lady caught up his hand. “I would truly not have you know pain.” Miss Purefoy’s slender fingers stroked the back of Aidan’s hand, and he could not remove his eyes from her steady gaze. Her innocent vulnerability stirred feelings Aidan had thought long buried. “There are events which happen that mark our lives forever. They change everything before and after their occurrence.”

  “Amen to that,” Aidan said sarcastically. He thought of all the decisions that had sent his house into years of mourning.

  Miss Purefoy clasped his hand tighter. “Do you not understand, my Lord? God has seen your past and has already defined your future?” She raised the back of his hand to her lips and left a tender kiss upon his knuckles. Aidan had never felt such complete peace in his heart. “God knows where you have been. He knows your successes and your failures. He knows the peace you desire. The devastation you have seen. He knows your heart. The disappointments you have faced and the challenges which lie ahead.”

  “If He is a benevolent God,” Aidan said bitterly, “Why has He taken everyone from me?”

  “I am here,” she said softly. “And so is Mr. Hill, and the friends with whom you have served, and now the families of those friends have begun. You are not alone, Lord Lexford. There are many who care deeply for you. Perhaps God has brought you to this time and this place so you could cross over from death to life. From despair to hopefulness. It is fair to grieve, my Lord, but not to feel guilty for things beyond your control.”

  Aidan’s breath caught in his chest. The sincerity in the lady’s voice pummeled his sensibility. Could any woman be so filled with goodness? His hackles said not, but his foolish heart desperately wanted to believe the promises she purported. “How can you think so? Your brother drove you from your home. You have no one.”

  “You err, my Lord. I have Mr. Hill and Mrs. Osborne. I have Miss Chadwick as a new acquaintance, and God has replaced the most horrid brother with one who looks upon me with kindness.”

  Damn, he thought. Hers was the perfect response.

  “Then you have enjoyed your short time at Lexington Arms?” he asked cautiously.

  “How could I not?” she protested. “I have been given a beautiful room and plenty to eat. I have been shown respect and worth. Your estate is pure perfection.”

  Aidan’s eyebrow rose in disbelief. “I would certainly not refer to Lexington Arms as perfection. There is one wing badly in need of repair, and many of the rooms require new accessories. Several chambers still reflect my mother’s time as viscountess.”

  “Then why not make the manor over in your taste?” the lady suggested. “Make your reign as Lord Lexford memorable. Leave your stamp on the legacy you have been given. Like the wise men, follow your star to discover what no one in your family ever bothered to know: a man greater than all those who came before him.”

  “Dare I?” Aidan asked in awe.

  The lady’s frown lines deepened. “Why ever not? I would have thought a man who faced Napoleon’s forces and the worst manipulations of mankind would dare anything,” Miss Purefoy said adamantly. “Why should you continue to live with the shadows, which have haunted you for years? Do you mean to punish yourself for a situation not of your own making? If you are not willing to reconsider the possible, who will do so on your behalf?”

  Aidan smiled genuinely. “It would seem I have found an advocate in a lost sister.”

  Miss Purefoy blushed thoroughly. She said obediently, “I have spoken beyond my station, my Lord. Please forgive me.”

  Aidan felt perversely pleased by her response. While the girl, obviously, battled a feeling of discomposure and stole a moment to collect herself, he said kindly, “I made light of your serious consideration, my Dear. It is I who should ask for forgiveness.” He felt his heart swell with quiet joy. “Despite my ill attempts at levity, perhaps I might request your excellent opinions in making choices for the house.”

  “Me?” she gasped. “You would trust me?” She tugged at her long braid, twisting the ends in her fingers in a nervous gesture. “I would be pleased to be of service, my Lord, but should not the next Lady Lexford be the one who will make such decisions?”

  Disappointment welled up in him. Just the reminder of his marital prospects caused Aidan’s jaw to clinch. His lack of memory and his feelings of loneliness had mixed with the anxiety that had plagued his days and nights of late. “It is not my intention to wed? At least, not for many years,” he declared.

  Cocking her head, Miss Purefoy asked, “Do you not require an heir, my Lord?”

  Aidan could not stifle the sigh of resignation. He shook his head in the negative. “My brother left behind a son,” he said dryly. “So, an heir is not necessary.”

  Miss Purefoy shifted uncomfortably. “Yet, do you not wish to leave the estate and the title to one of your own issue?”

  Hell, yes! Aidan wished to scream. He desired a wife and a house full of children, but he had to accept the fact he might never recover his memory; and Aidan held the private belief that if he did not learn the contents of the missing piece, he would never be able to accept another into his life. He would know no intimate relationship.

  “There is no need for me to pursue a wife in order to secure the Kimbolt line.” His response sounded colder than he had anticipated. The sheen of tears in her eyes caught him unawares.

  Miss Purefoy took a deep breath before forcing a bright smile. “Then I shall be pleased to assist you, my Lord.” She briefly stroked his cheek with her fingertips. An unfamiliar twinge of expectancy zigzagged its way through his chest. The lady was pretty. No, beautiful. Too beautiful. “I shall foresee having young Master Kimbolt’s acquaintance,” she added.

  “Then when his grandfather brings the boy for a visit on the day after Christmas, I will send for you.” The sense of dread had returned with the remembrance of Rhodes’s upcoming visit.

  “I could not,” Miss Purefoy protested. “I noted Mr. Rhodes’s disapproval when the gentleman spoke to you at the mercantile.”

  Aidan’s frown lines met. “Mr. Rhodes does not speak to whom is welcome under my roof. The late Lady Lexford’s father has often acted above his station.” Aidan thought of how the Rhodeses had never considered him a proper suitor for Susan. His late wife’s parents had tolerated his friendship with their daughter, but only until they had realized Aidan’s romantic intentions. At that point, his finding private time to woo Susan had been limited by
her mother’s manipulations.

  Miss Purefoy’s lips thinned into a tight line. “We shall speak on it again when we are both not so exhausted. It is late.”

  “Do not leave,” Aidan said before she could rise to depart. He stared into her eyes and with reluctance caressed her cheek. “Just a few more minutes,” he pleaded.

  Her gaze searched his before she nodded her agreement. She sank to the floor to sit at his feet. Miss Purefoy rested her head upon his knee, and Aidan knew instant contentment. He aimlessly stroked her hair while she wrapped her arms about his legs. It was quite the domestic scene. Nothing moved but his hand against the silken strands. Only the occasional snap of the flames broke the silence. Aidan did not wish to talk or to think or to tantalize. He simply wanted this moment of comfort with Mary Purefoy.

  *

  Mercy slowly expelled the breath she had held. She had experienced a brief peek into the life of the man, who had fascinated her from the moment of their first acquaintance. And, unfortunately, the fascination had not lessened, especially after learning something of His Lordship’s family and his lack of hope for the future. His words of desolation had spoken to her heart. She had known such despair while living under Geoffrey’s roof. Even though she knew it dangerous to grow closer to the man than her foolish heart had already done, Mercy wanted to know more of Aidan Kimbolt.

  Being from a less than stable family, Mercy understood Lord Lexford’s reasons for wishing to forget his family’s shortcomings. When she had escaped Geoffrey’s notice, Mercy had sworn never to accept a man’s kindness as anything more than a brief respite from the world’s cruelty. The male species had brought her nothing but sickening trepidation: Her brother’s rakish ways had led the barony to poverty’s door. Geoffrey’s associates had threatened to defile her. And Sir Lesley had offered her an uncertain future as the mother of his five children. Her head knew she should simply accept the viscount’s benevolence for as long as the man extended it, and then she should make her escape when Viscount Lexford’s generosity dwindled. Yet, her mind and her heart followed different paths.