Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet

by Regina Jeffers

  The man pulled away from his attacker’s grasp. “I have my own agenda. I need Fowler’s money, and the best way to secure it is to make the duke aware that he is no longer in charge.”

  “There are bigger issues than your gambling debts! I told your business partner what I expected. I am after something that will make us all richer than Croesus. Now, you have put Fowler and Worthing on guard. Thanks to your meddling ways, I will have no way of making certain they do not have the prize. No wonder the British tucked tail and ran from Bonaparte. You are a bunch of pompous arses!” The dark-skinned assailant pushed the less than noble man from him as he strode from the darkened hallway and into the night.

  Chapter 5

  “I wonder how she does it,” Velvet thought aloud. When she had followed Bran into the stable yard, Velvet did not take note of her cousin’s rumpled appearance; Velvet took note of her cousin’s body language–how Ella had hesitated when the groom reached to assist her down, as if Ella had wished to remain in the man’s embrace, and how neither of them removed his eyes from the other, even when Bran and the staff separated them. Something had changed between Lord Worthing and her cousin that day, and for the past week she had surreptitiously observed their interactions. Kerrington feigned disinterest, but Velvet had noticed how he watched Ella’s every move–how he found ways to touch her fingers or to sit close to her.

  What she did not know for certain was the depth of her cousin’s interest. Ella had never showed a partiality for any man. The only person Eleanor had ever tried to please was her father, but the late duke had never given the girl a second look. Velvet had assumed Ella’s strong resemblance to her mother had doomed her cousin’s efforts to make William Fowler love his daughter. However, now, Velvet continually observed Eleanor’s favoritism for Lord Worthing, and the actions had piqued her curiosity. She wanted to learn more about how to attract a man.

  *

  “Oh, Brantley,” Aunt Agatha bemoaned, “your mother would be so proud to see you at Briar House.” They had arrived to find their aunt already in residence.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” Looking around the room, Bran took a ragged breath. At Thorn Hall, he had limited his residence to the east wing rooms and the common rooms below. He had yet to enter his parents’ quarters. However, at Briar House, he would face his demons first hand. At least, his father rarely used the town house. “I am obliged for your taking on Ella’s and Velvet’s presentations.”

  “I am looking forward to it, my Boy.” The Dowager Duchess of Norfield was his mother’s older sister. Both daughters of the Braton family had married dukes, but Agatha obviously received the better bargain. Unfortunately, she had had but ten years of happiness. The previous Duke of Norfield had lost his battle with a weak heart, leaving his wife a widow at the age of nine and twenty. Now, as she approached her fiftieth birthday, she spent her time matchmaking among the ton’s members. Notoriously manipulative, Agatha Braton Norris had the connections and the fortune to be respected by everyone, including her niece and nephew.

  “Where is Eleanor?” Aunt Agatha demanded.

  “Here, Aunt,” Ella swept into the room followed closely by Velvet.

  Agatha brightened immediately. “Oh, Eleanor,” she beamed, “I cannot look upon you, my Child, without seeing my dear sister in your face. You look more like her every day.”

  “Thank you, Aunt.” Ella bestowed a kiss on the Dowager’s cheek.

  Holding it tightly as she had entered the room, Velvet now caught her breath. Her nerves had been on edge for days. How could she change Bran’s mind about this venture? “How are you, Child?” Agatha captured Velvet’s hand and gave it a brief squeeze. “Oh, my, you are as lovely as ever. Half the women of the ton will be cursing themselves for not having your silky complexion. Is she not lovely, Brantley?”

  Bran’s head snapped up in attention. “Velvet is one of the most attractive women of my acquaintance.”

  Velvet made a quick curtsy to the Dowager and offered the woman her thanks for sponsoring their presentations, but her eyes locked with Bran’s.

  “Heaven, you know I live for such revelry.” Agatha laughed lightly. “Do I not, Brantley?” His aunt’s words refocused his thoughts.

  Trying to appear casual, Bran seated himself in a chair close to Agatha. “That you do, my Dear.” Ella ordered tea, and they joined together before the hearth. “What is in store for my sister and cousin? I am certain you are well ahead of the ton’s games.”

  “Of course, I am, and your coming to town early to order Presentation gowns and the like for these two greatly pleases me. In another week, the press of people demanding the best modistes will be many. I have appointments set tomorrow; we will be about most of the day.”

  “Are the Presentation gowns as terrible as everyone says?” Velvet could not keep the worry from her voice.

  “They are a bit cumbersome, but young ladies have survived them for years. Do not worry, my Child, I will teach you everything you need to know. In fact, we will begin this afternoon. We will maneuver a tablecloth from the new housekeeper your brother hired and use it to practice the dress’s train.”

  Ella glanced at Bran. “New housekeeper?”

  “I brought in Mrs. Smithson and Mr. Horace, as well as a few other key positions from Cornwall. They may not know London, but they do know what I expect.”

  “Excellent idea,” she observed. Bran noted her raised eyebrow.

  “Brantley, I hope your pockets are deep,” his aunt noted out of the blue.

  “Why might that be, Your Grace?” He adored his aunt; when he was a child, she had never spoken down to him. He always knew that she would speak her mind, and right now, the truth, even if uncomfortable for them, needed airing.

  “Well, I do not wish to be indelicate, but if the gowns Ella and Velvet currently wear are indicative of their wardrobes, they simply will not do. The style is, at least, from three years prior. As the Duke of Thornhill, you must see to this deficiency. We cannot have them spoken poorly of.” Agatha was not condescending, just matter-of-fact in her analysis.

  Ella blushed immediately. “I do not remember my last new gown. Neither Velvet nor I have been off the estate for some time.”

  “Nearly five years,” Velvet whispered into the suddenly silent room.

  “Five years?” Agatha gasped. “Why ever so long?”

  “Papa did not wish it.” Ella’s voice came out small and vulnerable. “And then he took ill, and there was so much to do.”

  “Ella did all she could to keep the estate running in Bran’s absence.” Velvet noted the uncomfortable silence flooding the room.

  Ella caught Velvet’s hand. “I could not have done it without you.”

  Several extended seconds passed before Agatha finally let out a deep sigh. “What went on in that household was an abomination.” She turned on her nephew. “Then we are agreed, Brantley; the ladies will need new wardrobes?”

  “Whatever you think best, Aunt Agatha.” Bran eyed his sister, who seemed most disturbed by the conversation. He would need to speak to her privately.

  Velvet attempted a merrier mood. “New gowns sound heavenly, do they not, Ella?”

  With little enthusiasm, Ella said, “They do, indeed. We must trust Aunt Agatha to make our Come Outs first rate.”

  “You will accompany us, Brantley, to the ton’s many outings?” Agatha’s question came out as a command. “Thornhill has absent itself long enough.”

  “As many as business and my establishing my name in Parliament will permit.” Bran held no real desire to immerse himself into the ton’s rituals: His time away from England had changed his priorities.

  Agatha bristled just a bit with his exception. “And what may your wards do if your obligations take you elsewhere?”

  Bran smiled at her–she had always told her own son his duty; she would not hesitate to take Bran to task. “Lord Worthing has offered his arm when required.”

  “Worthing? Martin Kerrington’s son?”
She eyed Bran with amusement. “I assume His Lordship is an associate, Brantley?”

  “Lord Worthing recently spent a fortnight at Thorn Hall. I believe my sister and Velvet would find Kerrington a suitable escort. I have also asked the Marquis of Godown to be a regular member of our party.” This was news to both the ladies. Even in Kent they had heard of the remarkable reputation of the marquis.

  “Gabriel Crowden?”

  “Yes, Aunt. Is there a problem?” His smile spread like butter across his face.

  “A problem? No, Brantley. No problem. My niece and our cousin will regularly be escorted by three of the ton’s newest and most eligible bachelors. Definitely, there is no problem. It will only increase Eleanor’s and Velvet’s value as this year’s debutants.”

  Bran cringed inside. Although his head knew the necessity of finding Velvet another match, his heart could not acknowledge the possibility of losing her. “Three bachelors? Crowden and Kerrington fit that bill, Aunt, but I am not certain I do,” he weakly protested.

  “Nonsense, Brantley. You are five and twenty and a duke. You require a wife and an heir,” Agatha insisted.

  “You mean a new wife, Your Grace.” Velvet’s voice came out syrupy sweet, as if she enjoyed watching Bran squirm.

  Agatha’s eyebrow shot up in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

  Bran leaned forward to address his aunt directly. “I married five years ago, Aunt Agatha. My wife died in childbirth.”

  “You have an heir?” Agatha’s curiosity piqued. “And why did I know none of this?”

  “No one knew until Ella found me in Cornwall,” Bran observed. “And by British standards, my daughter cannot inherit.”

  “A daughter? When will I meet my newest relative? Do you hide her away in Kent?”

  Bran reached for her hand. “Mrs. Carruthers will bring Sonali this afternoon. I refuse to be that far away from my child.” He had prayed not to provoke her censure.

  “Sonali? An unusual name?” the Dowager Duchess remarked, considering it as if tasting the name to decide if she liked it or not.

  “My wife hailed from India, Aunt.” Bran sat back and waited for the predictable.

  However, before their aunt could comment further on her nephew’s choices, Ella interrupted. “Aunt Agatha, you will love Sonali. She is the most precocious child–and so intelligent–and so beautiful.”

  “Of course, I will love her. She is my dear Amelia’s first grandchild.” Aunt Agatha puffed up in self-importance.

  Bran smiled tenderly at his sister. “As anyone can tell, Sonali has stolen Ella’s heart.”

  Undaunted by the new information, Agatha observed, “Well, it just proves I need to find you an appropriate match as well, Brantley.”

  Bran thought to protest, but Mr. Horace appeared to announce Worthing’s call, and their friend bowed his entrance into the Briar House drawing room.

  Eleanor was on her feet immediately, Bran noting the flush of color spreading across her cheeks. The Dowager rose to greet their visitor properly; Velvet and Bran followed suit.

  Worthing pretended to address only Bran. “I came to assure myself you had experienced no problems with your journey, Your Grace.”

  “As you can see, Worthing, we are well. Please come in and meet my aunt. I just assured her that you would serve as my family’s escort in my absence, and here you are.”

  “At your service, Your Grace.” He aristocratically inclined his head.

  Bran motioned the viscount forward. “Your Grace, may I present James Kerrington, Lord Worthing. Worthing, this is my mother’s sister the Dowager Duchess of Norfield.”

  For the next few minutes, the Duchess regaled Worthing with stories of her acquaintance with his mother and father. Ella ordered tea, and the conversation continued with their aunt leading the way. “It will give me great pleasure, Your Grace, to inform my mother of making your acquaintance. Knowing her former friends speak well of her and offer their support will make a difference,” Kerrington shared.

  Predictably, Worthing turned his notice to Ella. Impulsively he asked to escort her and Velvet on a brief tour of the city. “The ton has not descended upon London in full force as yet, and I recall your commenting on how long it has been since you were in the capital. It would give you the opportunity to become familiar with the city before the Season begins.”

  “I would enjoy a leisurely tour,” Velvet added before Eleanor could respond. She had thought Ella might refuse, using her as an excuse, but of late, Velvet had formulated a plan to vex Bran, and she needed Ella’s assistance to execute it; and, if it worked out properly, Lord Worthing would be a part of it also. “What might you have in mind, my Lord?”

  “We might see the Royal Academy, or we may take a drive through Hyde Park, or whatever you may wish. I have no agenda–a purely extemporaneous idea.”

  “It has been a decade since we were here.” Ella reasoned out loud.

  Agatha looked on in surprise. “Surely, you jest, Eleanor.”

  “No, Aunt.” Ella’s countenance gazed over. “I was ten and Velvet nine. Our governess took us for a picnic in Hyde Park.”

  “Mrs. Holden dash Smythe.” Velvet giggled. “Remember, Ella. That is how she would say it: Holden dash Smythe.”

  Ella shook her head with the memory. “The lady was an odd bird, but we had fun on that holiday. Mother had come to see doctors who might help her, while Mrs. Holden-Smythe escorted Velvet and me to see the London Tower. If I had known, I would have stayed with mother.”

  “Amelia would never have allowed it, Child. She wanted to protect you and Brantley as long as she could.” Agatha set forward to emphasize her point.

  “Where was I when the two of you were playing about the London streets?” Bran teased; he had sensed his sister’s angst and knew not how to address it.

  “I imagine you were at school. Young boys have more freedom than young ladies,” Velvet reminded him.

  Ella turned to her aunt. “Would it be rude of us to accept His Lordship’s offer? After all, you had planned to begin our Presentation training.”

  “No, Child,” Agatha assured her. “You and Velvet deserve some time to enjoy the city.” “God only knows we shall be busy enough once the invitations begin to pour in. Besides, we have all day to practice. A few hours with Lord Worthing will not jeopardize your Presentation.”

  “If you are certain, Aunt?” Ella paused before turning back to Worthing. “Miss Aldridge and I would be pleased to accept, Your Lordship.”

  “Excellent.”

  Velvet turned to Bran. “May we convince you to join us, Your Grace?”

  “It truly sounds like a delightful afternoon, but as I wait for Sonali and Mrs. Carruthers, I must decline.” He watched as Velvet obviously fought her disappointment. Bran hated avoiding her. Spending the afternoon with Velvet on his arm would be heavenly.

  “Of course.” Her tone told the story.

  Within seconds, Ella ushered her from the room. Only when she had removed herself from his presence was Velvet able to recover her resolve. Somehow she must find a way to win Brantley Fowler’s favor.

  Velvet sped through her clothing change, wanting to talk to Ella before they rejoined the others. “May I assist you, Ella?” Velvet tapped on the door before entering.

  Ella smiled welcomingly. “Would you mind lacing me up?”

  For the next couple of minutes, Velvet dutifully pulled the laces tighter on Ella’s corset and dress. “Lord Worthing is quite handsome,” she spoke the words as if they were an afterthought.

  “Do you really think so?” Ella faced the mirror so Velvet guarded her facial response. “My heavens, yes, and he does admire you, Ella.” She tied the strings.

  Ella spun towards her. “What makes you say so?”

  “One just has to look at the man; he can barely keep his eyes from you.” Velvet pulled Ella to the bed where they both could sit. “I wish your brother looked at me that way.”

  “Do you speak the truth, Velvet,
or is this one of your fairy tales?”

  Velvet caught Ella’s hand. “Tell me you affect him also.”

  Ella looked away shyly. “Is it not absurd? I have always planned an independent life, but I do admit I think often on Lord Worthing.”

  “It is a shame to waste our time and energy with a Season when the only men we might consider sit together downstairs in the drawing room,” Velvet mused.

  “Bran believes we lost something by not having a Season.” Expectedly, Ella defended her brother.

  Velvet chuckled. “I know he means well. Men always mean well, but they are so clueless when it comes to women. You shall not believe what I told Bran the other day. I told him I was anxious for the Season to begin so I could meet other men. I said I was determined to find a mate so he might be rid of me.”

  Ella gasped, “You did not? What did Bran say?”

  “Well, nothing. That is when you and His Lordship rode in on one horse.” After a brief moment of silence, Velvet whispered, as if wanting to share a secret. “Worthing kissed you, did he not?”

  Ella burst into false laughter. Then silence. Finally, “How did you know?”

  Velvet shrugged her shoulders. “I am not certain exactly. You looked different after that ride. More content.” She again caught Ella’s hand in hers. “Would you assist me in winning Bran? I will do everything in my power to aid you with Lord Worthing.”

  “Dare we?” Ella asked, showing her excitement.

  “The way I see it, Bran wants us both to find suitable mates this Season. We are simply following his wishes.”

  Ella smiled fully. “You are evil, Cousin.”

  “So, is it a bargain?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Ten minutes later, they descended the main staircase, arm-in-arm. Ella leaned close. “May I offer a word of advice regarding Brantley?”

  Velvet nodded her agreement.

  “Bran is not likely to seriously look at any woman who could not accept Sonali. You barely speak to the child. Can you not, if you truly love him, permit his daughter into your heart? Sonali is part Bran. Learn to love that part.”