Realm 05 - A Touch of Mercy

by Regina Jeffers

  “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.

  “Foresthill Hall.” He grinned at his friend. “We require Baron Nelson’s permission or else we ride toward Gretna Green.”

  Chapter 23

  Within a half hour, Aidan and Mr. Hill reined in before Foresthill Hall. A young groom Mercy did not recognize rushed forward to claim the horses. Mr. Hill dismounted first, and His Lordship lifted her to his friend’s arms. “Thank you, kind Sir,” Mercy teased as Hill set her upon her feet. She presented the man an exaggerated curtsy. “You, Sir, have my undying gratitude.” She launched herself into the man’s arms. “Who would think a guardian angel would sport a scruffy beard?” she whispered.

  His Lordship cleared his throat. “Either you release the lady or name your second, Hill,” Lord Lexford said jovially.

  Hill gently set her away from him. “As you have been my second for more years than I can recall, I will bend to your wishes, my Lord.”

  Lord Lexford caught her hand and brought the back of it to his lips. “If it is your wish, it is time we claim a future.”

  “More than anything, my Lord. I wish to return to Lexington Arms as your viscountess.” The words brought tears to her eyes. A dream surely could not promise more.

  His Lordship escorted her up the entrance steps to rap heavily upon the door. He replaced the bonnet upon her head. “Whoever thought you should wear yellow for your wedding certainly never looked upon your beautiful countenance.”

  Mercy laughed self-deprecatingly. “I fear, my Lord, you must become accustomed to yellow as this is the only gown I own. My others remain at Crandale Hall, and Geoffrey may not permit to claim my former ones.”

  He said seductively, “I will purchase you better. You should wear silks and satin and velvet.” But Mercy had the distinct feeling the viscount’s thoughts rested upon her sans clothing.

  The door opened to a familiar face. “Mr. Soames,” she squealed. It had been so long since she had departed this house, Mercy nearly forgot why she had made her escape.

  “Glory to God!” the elderly butler exclaimed. “Miss Mercy has come home.” He opened the door wider. “Please come in from the cold. The baron will be most anxious to see you. He has grieved with your disappearance, Miss.”

  “Except for the loss of Sir Lesley’s connections, I had no idea Geoffrey might care,” Mercy admitted.

  Mr. Soames glanced about to secure privacy. “The baron no longer requires Sir Lesley’s influence. The Marquis of Godown has assumed control of the estate,” Soames whispered. “Conditions are much improved.”

  Mercy turned to Aidan. “You spoke the truth of the marquis’s interest in Geoffrey. Why did you not tell me before?”

  The viscount leaned close to whisper, “Because, my Dear, you guarded your identity until recently.” He tweaked her nose for good measure, and Mercy blushed thoroughly.

  Mr. Soames accepted Mercy’s cloak. “Your sister has set her husband to tending to the baron’s financial papers.”

  Mercy caught the man’s hand. “Grace? Grace is alive?”

  Soames gently patted the back of Mercy’s hand. “Oh, yes, Miss. Miss Grace is the Marquise of Godown.”

  Mercy felt the walls swoon. She had prayed for Grace’s safety. Daily she had said the words aloud, but she had feared for the worst. Somehow, God had known her heart. Swirls of colored lights clouded her vision, and Mercy’s insides went icy cold. When she swayed, Lord Lexford caught her under her legs to lift her to him. She heard him order Soames to show him a place where he might place her down, and then it all went black.

  *

  Despite all signs to the contrary, Aidan had always assumed Miss Nelson had known of her sister’s conquest, but her reaction had proved otherwise. From the butler, she had learned Grace Crowden lived. Now, it would be his responsibility to inform her of the marquise’s disappearance. “Mercy,” he whispered. “Mercy, Darling, wake up.”

  Slowly, her eyes opened, and Aidan breathed easier. “My Lord?” she said sweetly.

  He carefully lifted her to a seated position. “Do you know your whereabouts?” Aidan asked encouragingly.

  She gave her head a gentle shake before answering, “In my brother’s home.”

  Before they could say more, a young man strode through the door. “Mercy! Praise God! You have returned to us.” Despite Aidan reaching for her to protect Mercy, the man scooped her from the sofa to embrace her. He caught Mercy’s chin and lifted it to look upon her countenance. “You look well; I had feared the worst.” He kissed Mercy’s forehead. Then he glanced to where Aidan and Hill looked on. “And who have you brought us?”

  Mercy blushed, and Aidan smiled at her innocent embarrassment. “Lord Lexford, may I present my brother, Baron Nelson. Geoffrey, it is my great pleasure to bring you the acquaintance of Aidan Kimbolt, Viscount Lexford, and his close associate, Mr. Henry Hill.”

  The baron held his sister’s hand, but he offered a proper bow. “Welcome to Foresthill Hall. May I send for refreshments? I cannot thank you enough for returning my sister to us.”

  Aidan said quickly, “You have misinterpreted our presence in your home, Nelson. Your sister has graciously accepted my proposal. You and I have business to address.”

  Swinging his gaze to his sister, Nelson’s smile filled with pride. “A viscountess, Mercy? You have done well, my Dear.”

  Aidan suggested, “Perhaps, you have a place where we might speak privately, Nelson. Urgency is of import.”

  “Of course, we can use my study,” Nelson said suspiciously.

  Aidan continued, “Hill, would you make arrangements for a carriage?” He did not wish to ride all the way to Derbyshire with Mercy seated upon his lap. Besides, nearly six days in the saddle had taken their tolls on his body.

  “Certainly, my Lord.” Hill started for the door, but the baron called him back.

  “I have a small carriage you are welcome to use if you are so inclined, Lexford. If we are to be brothers, it is the least I can do.”

  Mercy said in disbelief, “A second carriage?”

  Her brother cleared his throat. “It is more economical,” he explained.

  Hill said, “I will call in at the stable, my Lord.” Aidan nodded his agreement, and his friend made his exit.

  To Mercy he said, “My Dear, perhaps you have several gowns you wish to reclaim while I speak to your brother.”

  She laughed up at him with sparkling eyes. “I will find a more appropriate gown, my Lord.” She went on tiptoes to kiss her brother. “Thank you, Geoffrey. I have heard heartening words of your new constancy. I am pleased to see you looking well and set on making our father proud.”

  *

  The negotiations with her brother had gone better than Aidan had anticipated. Obviously, the strict hand Godown had placed on Nelson’s shoulder had made a difference, and Aidan would assist the marquis once he had married Mercy.

  “Miss Nelson knows nothing of what has transpired between the marquis and her elder sister. If you hold no objections,” Aidan had suggested, “I will explain the complications Lady Godown has experienced in her marriage.”

  Nelson shook his head sadly. “My part in my sisters’ troubles brings me grief.”

  Aidan
took sympathy on the man. “I am certain Miss Nelson would be pleased if you would attend the wedding, as would my associates. My friends and I are family in action rather than by blood.”

  “Thank you, Lexford. It would be an honor to have such esteemed company. Before I follow you to Derbyshire, I will call upon Sir Lesley to assure him I was never away from my estate.” Aidan had shared the few details he had learned from Miss Nelson during their short ride from the church. “I will also discreetly inform the baronet of his son’s involvement in illegal activities. Hopefully, Mathias Trent has survived his injury.”

  Aidan smiled knowingly. “I assure you, Nelson, Mr. Hill is extremely accurate with an assortment of weapons. He shot Trent in the leg to prevent the baronet’s son from making a speedy escape.”

  The baron paled. “It is another of my personal failures to have participated in Trent’s maneuverings,” he admitted.

  Aidan could have added sugar to his response, but he knew Nelson had much more to learn. “It is only because of Godown’s great admiration for his wife that you are not sitting in a cell at Old Bailey. Never forget the immense gift you have been given and to whom you owe your allegiance.”

  Nelson chuckled ironically. “For many weeks, I cursed Lord Godown to the heavens, but slowly life returned to my body and my estate. The marquis plays a heavy hand, but he does not cheat in repaying his debts.” It was not necessary for the baron to speak the words written in his eyes.

  “You are fortunate to claim the marquis as a brother,” Aidan cautioned.

  The baron nodded his understanding, “I am well aware of Lord Godown’s vast influence.” He reached into his desk drawer. “I have been saving this for Mercy’s return.”