Realm 05 - A Touch of Mercy

by Regina Jeffers

  Rhodes shook his head in denial. “It is not simply Mrs. Rhodes’s frail constitution,” the man protested. “It is the boy himself. My wife cannot look upon the child without recalling the tragedy of Susan’s death.”

  “And you think I can?” Aidan said incredulously. “Am I to be punished for having loved your daughter?”

  Rhodes’s mouth thinned into a tight line. “The boy is your legal responsibility, my Lord.”

  Bloody hell! Aidan had long ago tired of being reminded of his responsibility. He had done the responsible thing when he had joined the British Army in hopes of a career, which would permit him to marry Susan Rhodes. When his lady had chosen his brother instead, Aidan had acted responsibly when he stepped aside to permit his brother’s happiness over his own, and he had been the responsible one when he had returned to Cheshire to take up a loveless marriage. “There must be some other means.” Even to his own ears, Aidan could hear the desperation in his voice.

  “I can think of no other solution,” Rhodes admitted lamely. “The child is too young to be housed at a school, and as the heir presumptive, the Lexford title holds…”

  “Responsibility for the boy’s care,” Aidan finished Rhodes’s thoughts. He closed his eyes in supplication. How could God test him again? Aidan had always considered himself a kind person: One who had served his fellow man. Was it so terrible to ask for a bit of happiness of his own? Evidently, he growled under his breath. What am I to do? He could bury the child in another wing. Open up the nursery. Hire a nurse who would keep the boy from his sight. Continue to pretend the idea of Susan bearing another man’s child did not rip his heart to shreds. Close his eyes to the boy’s existence. “When do you expect me to take possession of the child?” Aidan said grudgingly.

  “Aaron awaits his uncle in the yellow drawing room,” Rhodes confessed. “I could send over his belongings a bit later today.”

  “That quickly?” Aidan asked caustically. “With no notice so I might prepare proper quarters for the boy?”

  Before Rhodes could respond a light tap at the door brought their disagreement to a stumbling halt. The door opened to frame Miss Purefoy clutching a dark-haired child in her arms. The boy buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Pardon me, my Lord, but Master Aaron has had the most dreadful case of the fits. The maid assisting in his care knew not what might cure the young master’s woes. The child asks for his Uncle Aidan.”

  *

  Mercy knew she had made a mistake when she had approached His Lordship’s study and had heard the noisy row within, but the lad had the household at sixes and sevens with his screams and tears. Dutifully, Mercy had escorted Miss Chadwick to the door after her fittings only to find Lord Lexford’s butler and Mrs. Babcock debating on how to settle the child. The housekeeper had caught the lad by his arm to give the child a lecture on behaving property.

  Without considering how her interference might be perceived among His Lordship’s seasoned staff, Mercy had rushed to comfort the boy. Scooping the young master into her arms, she had carried the child to a quiet corner and rocked him until the boy had ceased his caterwauling. “Shush, my Little One,” Mercy had cooed into the child’s ear.

  “Wunkle Waden,” the boy sobbed over and over.

  Mercy set the child from her where she might look upon the puffy-eyed countenance. With her linen, she had dabbed away the child’s tears. The boy held the look of his father. He would never be called handsome, but those with titles and ancestral names had no concern for fine looks. “You wish to visit with your uncle?” Mercy asked encouragingly.

  “Gwanpapa said Wunkle Waden give me cakes,” the child confessed.

  Mercy smiled easily. The boy knew what was important. “Then come along with me. We must find your ‘Wunkle Waden.’” Lifting the boy to her, she had carried him through the gathered throng of servants outside the drawing room door. To Miss Chadwick, she had said, “If you could tarry but a few moments longer, I mean to have His Lordship’s approval before you continue your work.” The girl nodded her agreement. To Mrs. Babcock she said, “Please bring tea and cakes to Lord Lexford’s study.”

  “But Miss…” the housekeeper began in protest. “Perhaps it is best if you do not inter…”

  “Now, Mrs. Babcock.” Mercy emphasized the word before turning toward the stairs. The housekeeper’s continued disrespect had settled Mercy’s resolve.

  Of course, her bravado had drained the moment she had opened the door to His Lordship’s private room. The heated discussion she had overheard outside the door had left the room filled with stark tension. She faced not only Lord Lexford, but also the man Mr. Hill had identified as being Lady Lexford’s father, Mr. Rhodes. The expression on Lord Lexford’s countenance said it all. His Lordship felt trapped. The viscount was miserably uncomfortable. But why? Mercy knew not the answer, but she meant to protect him somehow.

  Mr. Rhodes’s countenance spoke of disapproval. She had seen a similar look in the man’s eyes when he had watched her at the mercantile. If possible, Rhodes’s vehemence had increased. Unconsciously, Mercy shuddered. She supposed Mr. Rhodes viewed her as a threat to his daughter’s position in this household. Little did the man know His Lordship considered her his half sister. However, to protect her, Lord Lexford had introduced her to the villagers as his cousin. In the eyes of Society, a marriage between cousins was acceptable, but never one between brother and sister. A relationship between Lord Lexford and her would never materialize.

  *

  Aidan rose to his feet upon her entrance. His first thought was of how beautiful Mary Purefoy appeared. The boy had clung to her neck, and the two of them had looked so natural together. It was everything he wanted in this house. A wife and a family. But it was not his family. Neither the child nor the woman belonged to him. “Come in, my Dear,” he said as he extended his hand in the girl’s direction. Aidan supposed he should stop thinking of Miss Purefoy as a girl. She was most definitely a woman.

  He noted her hesitation, but Miss Purefoy took perhaps a half dozen steps in his direction. Her fingers caressed the back of the child’s head, and she turned to graze a kiss upon the boy’s temple. Her tenderness touched Aidan’s heart. Then he spotted the scowl on Rhodes’s countenance. The man’s lips snarled in contempt. Immediately, Aidan’s protective nature made an appearance. He did not appreciate the way Rhodes had looked upon Miss Purefoy. “What have you there?” he asked gently.

  Her eyes met his, and he knew she understood the strange social conundrum in which he found himself. “This big boy is Master Aaron,” Miss Purefoy said playfully. She encouraged the boy to turn toward where Aidan waited.

  His brother’s eyes stared out from the child’s countenance, and Aidan swallowed the bile of betrayal, which clogged his throat. He managed to respond by keeping his eyes on the lady’s countenance. In her face, he found peace. “You must be mistaken, my Dear,” he said teasingly. “My nephew is but a babe in a crib.” He tickled the boy’s side with his finger. “This child is nearly a man.”

  The child cocked his head as if searching for something familiar in Aidan’s countenance and voice. He wondered if the boy held any memory of the long hours he had held Susan’s child. The hours he had resigned himself to loving a babe not of his issue, and if the boy knew how miserably Aidan had failed. “Wunkle Waden?” The child’s voice quickly rose in inflection.

  Unable to resist, Aidan reached for the child, and with a bit of encouragement from Miss Purefoy, the boy came into his arms. He pulled the child protectively into his embrace before turning toward Susan’s father. The child smelled of baby smells: sleepy tears, and that sweet scent of soft skin and hair. Aidan inhaled deeply. When Rhodes’s frown lines deepened, Aidan taunted, “Is this not what you wished, Father Rhodes?”

  Rhodes shot a glance toward Miss Purefoy. Through tight lips, he said, “Mrs. Rhodes would not approve of just anyone tending to the boy.”

  Aidan took a menacing step toward the man. “First, you bring my brothe
r’s son to my home and demand I resume guardianship of the child. Then you presume to dictate which members of my household may interact with my nephew. You cannot have it both ways, Father Rhodes. If the boy is to call Lexington Arms home, I will determine his future.”

  Miss Purefoy took a tentative step toward the door and made to leave. Aidan said insistently, “Do you have pressing business, my Dear?” The thought of being alone with a child he was uncertain he even liked frightened him more than any enemy he had ever faced on the battlefield. What would he do if the child cried? And Heaven forbid the child required someone to change his baby cloths! Aidan looked upon the pink countenance and scowled. Did the boy still wear the cloths?

  “Miss Chadwick waits below, my Lord. I had thought to seek your approval on the girl’s designs, but…” She shot an anxious glance toward Susan’s father. “But you have more pressing matters, and I would not detain the lady longer.”

  A sharp knock announced the arrival of a teacart and cakes. Aidan’s frown lines deepened. How was he to manage a child, a tea service, and a disapproving Jonathan Rhodes all at the same time? He instructed the servant, “Ask Miss Chadwick to join us, and tell Mrs. Osborne we will require an additional pot. My cousin will serve the tea.” The maid nodded her understanding before disappearing into the early afternoon passages. Aidan watched Miss Purefoy’s countenance carefully. “If you hold no objections, I would ask your assistance with the tea service.”

  “Wakes,” the child said as he clapped his little hands together.

  Tentatively, Miss Purefoy reached for the boy. “Come, Little One,” she said softly. “Permit your uncle and grandfather to finish their business.”

  “Wunkle Waden,” the child called over her shoulder as Miss Purefoy carried him toward a small settee close to the hearth. “I wike wakes.”

  Aidan smiled at the boy’s enthusiasm. “Then I charge your cousin to give you two cakes,” he said to the retreating forms. Before he turned to Susan’s father, he watched how naturally Miss Purefoy had settled the boy upon the settee with several pillows to support him. Then she poured a generous portion of milk in a cup with just a splash of tea. She offered several spoonfuls of the mixture to the child as she cooed sweet words of nothing throughout. It was a deliciously domestic picture, and Aidan enjoyed every second of it. When she picked up the knife to cut the cake into bite-sized pieces, Aidan returned to the conversation with Rhodes.

  “Is this how you mean for the boy’s transfer to occur? Sharply and without a proper farewell?” He spoke softly so as not to relay the tension, which rested between him and Susan’s father, to Miss Purefoy and the child. The lady had already endured Rhodes’s disapproving stares on two separate occasions, and Aidan meant to protect her from future aspersions.

  “You would replace my daughter with that woman!” Rhodes hissed.

  Aidan had never liked Jonathan Rhodes. Had never taken to either of Susan’s parents, and he certainly had had his fill of people telling him his duties. He still held doubts regarding Miss Purefoy’s claim to a familial relationship, but one certainty remained: The lady had never asked anything of him beyond his friendship. Caustically, he hissed, “In her sweet gestures, the lady has shone more maternal care for the child than did your daughter.” He continued through clenched teeth, “Miss Purefoy is my cousin. If Andrew’s son remains with me, the lady will have a say in the child’s upbringing. I value her opinions.”

  Rhodes shot a deathly glare in the lady’s direction. “Mrs. Rhodes will speak more on this subject when she is well,” he rasped.

  Aidan’s jaw tightened. He said, “If you leave the boy in my care today, there will be no returning him to Rhodes End. I will not have the child uprooted over and over again. Aaron is a Kimbolt. He will be raised as I say from this day forward.”

  Rhodes snorted his displeasure. “I wish to God I had never agreed to permit Susan’s marriage to Andrew Kimbolt. The arrangement has brought nothing but misery to my door.”

  Aidan felt his ire rise, and for a change he said the words he had always swallowed previously. “You thought to have your daughter become the future viscountess. You never considered me worthy. After all, I was but a second son. Andrew should have been my father’s heir, but all your manipulations failed. Susan became a viscountess, but by the time I assumed the title, any tenderness Susan and I had once shared had been replaced by ambition and perfidy…”

  “My Lord?” Miss Purefoy’s melodic voice penetrated the red-hot hatred, which had stolen his tongue. Aidan looked up to see the lady’s worried countenance.

  He took a deep steadying breath. “I apologize, my Dear.” He noted how Rhodes stiffened at hearing Aidan’s continued endearments. “My business with Mr. Rhodes has reached its end. Perhaps you might pour me a cup of tea while I see Father Rhodes to the door.”

  The girl eyed him cautiously, but she nodded her agreement.

  Aidan kept his expression emotionally blank. “I will open the nursery. When Mrs. Rhodes has recovered, you may make arrangements to visit with the child, but not too soon,” he cautioned. “I would have Aaron accept Lexington Arms as his home.”

  “You are all kindness, my Lord,” Rhodes said sarcastically.

  Aidan smiled at the man’s peevishness. “I learned my lessons at your hand, Father Rhodes.” Rhodes reached for his gloves, but Aidan caught the man’s arm. He whispered threateningly, “If you and Mrs. Rhodes persist in your objection to Miss Purefoy, I will use all the power I possess as Viscount Lexford to separate you forever from your only grandchild.”

  Rhodes jerked his arm from Aidan’s grasp before he stormed from the room. Aidan watched him go, and he wondered if Susan’s father would heed the warning. Somehow, Aidan doubted it. Tomorrow, he would contact a man of the law regarding the legal rights of the boy’s grandparents.”

  “Gwanpapa!” Aaron whined.

  Miss Purefoy scooped the child into her arms. “Have no fear, Little One, you are about to go on a grand adventure. A game of sorts.”

  Aidan joined her in the setting. “Do you like games?”

  “Wirates?” the boy asked with a smile. Aidan did not think the child’s smile was one he could associate with Andrew. As selfish as it may seem, that fact pleased him. Aaron’s smile came from Susan. It was the one from long before Aidan had departed for the Continent: that special smile from a vivacious woman, and he would recognize it anywhere.

  “Pirates?” he asked kindly. “I am certain someone in this great house knows how to play pirates.” He nodded encouragingly to the boy. “Your grandfather has agreed to permit you to spend a few days with your cousin and me.” Aidan rubbed the child’s chubby leg with the back of his hand. The boy was built very much like Andrew and the late viscount. Aidan may have been the youngest of the three Kimbolt children, but he had the makings of his maternal grandfather, who had towered over Arlen Kimbolt by nearly four inches. Aidan had outstripped both his father and older brother by the time of his eighteenth birthday. “I realize you do not understand what is happening, but know both your cousin and I will protect you.”

  The child buried his face in Miss Purefoy’s chest. “Mama?” he sobbed.

  It ripped at Aidan’s heart to think young Aaron held no memories of Susan. Although the child was but a little over two and a half years of age, Aidan made a vow to relate every recollection he held of Susan Rhodes to the boy. He would repeat the stories over and over until Aaron knew something of his mother. It was what he had always wanted the late viscount to do for him. Aidan had felt robbed of memories of his mother. It was the first time memories of family had been taken from him. Lachlan Charters had performed the task well the second time. His father had grieved for a woman by never speaking of his wife again. “Miss Purefoy is not your mother, Boy,” he said as he stroked the child’s head, “but you will find many at Lexington Arms who love you.”

  A light tap at the door announced Miss Chadwick’s arrival. “You sent for me, my Lord?”

  Aidan
stood. “Yes, Miss Chadwick. Please join us.” He directed the timid girl to a nearby chair. “I must apologize,” he said evenly. “It has been a more difficult day than I anticipated. Yet, I pray you will share some of your ideas for my cousin’s attire with me.”

  The girl’s hands were trembling, but she reached for several samples to exhibit upon a small hard polished board. “Miss Purefoy chose this one for the riding habit and this for a morning dress.”

  Aidan frowned. “But that is but two garments. I had thought we had agreed upon five.”

  Miss Purefoy set the boy upon his feet before saying, “My Lord, I must protest.”

  The child tottered toward where Miss Chadwick displayed the other samples. “Wirates,” he squealed and reached for one of the cut squares of material.

  Miss Chadwick smiled graciously. “You are very much like my brothers.” She deftly retrieved the cloth from the child’s grasp and replaced it with a small white handkerchief from the hem of her sleeve. “You must have a proper cap for your head.” She quickly tied a knot in the cloth and placed it upon the boy’s head. “You look quite dangerous,” she teased easily.

  Aidan shot Mary a knowing glance, and his cousin responded with a sigh of relief. A secret smile blossomed in his heart. “Miss Chadwick,” he began slowly to gather his thoughts. “I have a proposition for you.” Aidan improvised. “Mr. Rhodes has chosen to leave Master Aaron at Lexington Arms for an extended stay, and neither my cousin nor I have any experience with children. What say you to assuming the role of Master Aaron’s nurse?”

  The girl’s countenance fell immediately. “I…I…I have similar duties in my father’s house, my Lord.”

  Miss Purefoy handed the child another bite of cake, which the boy instantly jammed into his mouth before waddling away to explore the room. His cousin sat forward. “What His Lordship means is not a nurse’s role,” Miss Purefoy assured. “What Lord Lexford offers is more of a…of a…”

  “A lady’s companion,” Aidan added quickly. “My cousin should have a lady’s companion while she resides at Lexington Arms. I occasionally have duties which take me from the estate, and I cannot have Miss Purefoy going about the neighborhood without a proper chaperone.”