Realm 03 - A Touch of Cashemere (4 page)

Cashé watched him move, entranced by his maleness. She had been in his presence only three times prior to this journey. He had come to Linton Park to celebrate Viscount Worthing’s marriage to Eleanor Fowler and then at the Prince Regent’s party, along with the follow up celebration at Briar House. But at each, she had entertained Viscount Lexford’s attentions and had had very little discourse with the earl. Obviously, Lord Yardley did not have Lexford’s affability, but she had to admit he held a hidden intensity that she found quite intriguing.

Marcus rode casually beside the carriage. Occasionally, he had caught a glimpse of the girl, sitting very prim and proper on the forward facing seat. Her alabaster skin made the silky black of her hair more apparent, and he had never seen such beautiful eyes, but her attitude and her caustic tongue ruined every kind thought he had of her. Now, if he could find a woman with Miss Cashémere’s looks, but possessing a milder temper, he might become as besotted as his friend Aidan Kimbolt. Marcus realized his duty to the title–understood that he must marry and set up his nursery, but he would like to have that responsibility to be Trevor’s or even Myles’s. It was never his destiny to hold the earldom. Only by a fluke of nature and an unexplained tragedy had Marcus received the title. Even after four months of holding the position and the previous six months preparing for it, the earldom still felt foreign–felt as if he had committed highway robbery.

True to her resolve, Cashé Aldridge offered him no censure throughout the day. At least, not directly. She criticized the rough terrain, the many holes in Northumberland roads, the lack of proper springs in her uncle’s carriage; the weak tea served at the afternoon’s inn, and the lack of conversation to pass the time. Very little pleased her. Marcus considered riding in the coach, rather than on horseback, but he did not trust his patience with the girl. It was safer if he remained in the saddle.

“This is not much of an inn,” Cashé snarled as Marcus assisted her to the ground.

“It is nearly twenty miles to the next one if you care to continue on, Miss Cashémere.” He fought hard to keep the smirk from both his face and his tone.

She reluctantly took his arm. “No, Cousin, I think not.” She smiled through tight lips.

“Then let us make the best of it,” he cautioned. “Despite the roads’ poor conditions, we have made excellent time. We should reach Linton Park late tomorrow morning.”

“Do you instruct everyone in how he should act and what he should know, Your Lordship, or am I a pet project?” the girl hissed.

Marcus looked askance. “I assure you, Miss Cashémere, that I offer no offense.”

“Somehow, I do not believe that is so.” Cashé turned her head so he could not observe her need for his approval. It was foolish: this need to please a man she did not even like or respect. The innkeeper rushed forward to greet them. Not as crowded as last evening’s stop, the proprietor quickly showed them to his best rooms. As Yardley held the door for her, Cashé hid how his finding fault in her affected her. Admittedly, she did not totally understand it; no one else’s recognition of her worth had ever mattered. “I believe I shall take my meal in my room, Lord Yardley. I would prefer to turn in early.”

For some unexplained reason, Marcus had wished that she would change her mind. “As you wish, Miss Cashémere.” He bowed over her hand. “I will see you in the morning then.”

“Good evening, Lord Yardley,” she whispered as he strode away.

Later, Marcus had sat in the chair before the empty hearth. A nip in the air had told him they would soon need to light the fireplace nightly. Tonight, his thoughts remained on the hurt he had observed in Cashé Aldridge’s face. He had not realized that he had used his “professor” voice with her. Unfortunately, he had done so out of habit. He regularly instructed Trevor in what society would expect, and Trevor required constant reminders. Marcus had hoped he had not transferred that tone to others, but he, obviously, had done so with Lord Averette’s niece.

Maybe he needed to find a woman, or, at least, a group of friends with whom to spend some “normal” time. Trying to prove himself worthy of the title thrust upon him, he had devoured his father’s papers and ledgers for months. Perhaps if he socialized more, Miss Cashé’s immaturity would not bother him so much. As he retired, he resolved to treat the girl with more civility in the future.

Cashé stared at her reflection in the mirror. Lord Yardley’s censure had hurt. She had met people before who did not approve of her usual frankness, but it had never bothered her until now. She normally would assume such people lacked her natural astuteness, but Cashé could not say the same of Marcus Wellston; the earl was as intelligent as he was handsome.

“Well, you are nothing to me, Lord Yardley,” she declared as she straightened her shoulders and turned from the foggy reflection. “Lachlan Charters does not think me a misbehaving child. Mr. Charters finds me quite charming.” She crawled in the bed and blew out the candle. “After tomorrow, I shall never see His Lordship again.”

*

They had barely spoken since leaving the inn shortly after daybreak. Every time he looked at her, Miss Cashé purposely turned her head rather than to meet his eyes. Finally, he brought his horse along side the coach and leaned down to speak to her through the open window. “Linton Park’s gatehouse is just ahead.” He nodded toward the road.

“Thank you, Lord Yardley.” She busied herself with her reticule and looked away.

Marcus wondered what had happened; he could not conceive how anything he had said would bring such rancor–such a change in the girl’s attitude. Unsure what else to say, he simply touched his hat with his riding crop and nudged the horse forward to lead the coach onto the Linworth property. Three-quarters of a mile later, they had arrived on Worthing’s doorstep.

As he led her up the entrance, her anxiousness showed. “I certainly hope my uncle is here, and we have not missed him.”

Marcus could not resist adding, “As do I, Miss Cashé.” He saw her flinch, but before the girl could respond, the estate door swung open, and Worthing’s butler greeted them.

“Lord Yardley. Miss Cashémere.” Automatically, Mr. Lucas shot a glance over their shoulders to see if others were in the party. “Please come in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lucas.” Marcus handed his hat and crop to the man. “Might Lord Worthing be available?”

The butler stepped back, evidently unsure how to respond. “His Lordship is out at the moment. However, I will inform Lady Worthing of your arrival. Please escort Miss Cashémere to the blue drawing room, my Lord. I will see to the refreshments.”

“Certainly, Mr. Lucas.” Marcus caught Cashé’s elbow to steady her on the stairs.

“Why did you not ask after my uncle?” she demanded through tight lips.

He taunted, “Do you not believe it proper to speak to the master of the house before asking after his guests?”

“I do not care for proper, Your Lordship. I simply want this trip to end,” she growled.

Marcus pulled her to an abrupt halt. “I did not take on being your escort, Miss Cashémere, for your sake. I did it for His Grace and for your sister. And, by the way, you might have considered thanking me just once in the last three days!” He stalked away, angry with her once again. Marcus wondered how many times that he had lost his temper with the girl. It was not like him. Normally, it took something devastating for him to react emotionally.

The girl caught her skirt tail and strode after him. “Why should I offer gratitude, Lord Yardley?” she barked to his retreating form.

Marcus turned on her. “Have you no sense of propriety? How do you call yourself a Christian and treat others so poorly?”

She breezed past him, entering the room in a huff. Then she came to an unexpected standstill, causing Marcus to curtail his chase. “How dare you question my Christian charity? At least, I worship regularly!”

Intentionally, he crossed to a cluster of chairs and sat. “And what do you learn in God’s house, Miss Cashémere?” he demanded.

However, before she could respond, Eleanor Kerrington appeared at the drawing room door. “Cashémere. Lord Yardley.”

Marcus scrambled to his feet and offered Lady Worthing a bow. “Lady Worthing, thank you for receiving us.” Marcus noted the girl came to her senses and executed a belated curtsy.

Lady Worthing gestured to the chairs. “Please be seated.” Once they were all situated, she continued, “How might I serve you?”

Wishing to stifle Miss Cashé’s tendency to speak out of turn, Marcus took the lead. “The fact that you did not ask immediately why Miss Cashémere and I traveled together tells me that you are aware of our situation, Lady Worthing.”

Their hostess inclined her head. “I am, Lord Yardley.” She accepted the tea tray the maid delivered.

Unable to remain quiet, the girl interrupted. “Then my uncle is at Linton Park? Or my sister? I insist that you make them aware of my arrival; I shall see my uncle immediately.” Tinges of their previous conversation, evidently, still lingered for she demanded and coerced. In response, Marcus clenched his fists at his side.

Lady Worthing leisurely poured tea, ignoring Miss Cashé’s attitude. “I am afraid,” she graciously served the cakes, “I have seen neither Lord Averette or my cousin since His Lordship and I took our leave of your family in London.” She directed the last remark to her stunned relative.

Miss Cashé placed her cup down hard to emphasize her point. “That is impossible! We trailed my uncle to Derbyshire!”

Marcus gritted his teeth in anger; yet, Lady Worthing smiled indulgently at her cousin. He admired the woman for keeping her composure. “I did not say Lord Averette had not come to the neighborhood; I simply said your uncle did not call at Linton Park.”

“Go on, Lady Worthing.” Marcus overrode any objections Miss Cashé planned to make. He would not allow the girl to insult the Captain’s wife.

“Our day yesterday appeared quite routine, but things altered quickly. Viscount Lexford made an unexpected call.” Marcus glanced at Cashé to gauge her reaction to the knowledge that her former admirer was close, but the girl showed no interest whatsoever. He thought Lexford might know another heartbreak if he continued to pursue the girl. “Then my brother arrived seeking Lord Worthing’s assistance in rescuing Velvet. He held the information you sent him, as well as some additional facts from Mr. Shepherd. Before we could organize a liberation, Lord Hellsman arrived.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, but neither he nor Lady Worthing vocalized the irony of Carter Lowery’s older brother Lawrence becoming involved. Lady Worthing continued, “Lord Averette had asked Lord Hellsman to intervene. As you are both aware, the viscount assumed His Grace arranged to meet our cousin at Linton Park. As we tried to convince Hellsman of the error of Lord Averette’s assertions, Sir Carter arrived to add to the chaos. The baronet had tracked Bran to Derby. It seems Mir’s men staged a double kidnapping. The one known as Talpur took Sonali to Cornwall; the other took Velvet toward Liverpool. Poor Brantley knew not what to do so my husband took control. Lord Worthing and Sir Carter stage Sonali’s rescue. They will set up at our brother Amsteadt’s estate in Devon. James sent Lexford, who has connections in Cheshire, with Bran to Liverpool.”

“And my uncle?” Cashé asked sarcastically.

Marcus noted Lady Worthing’s controlled expression. “It is my understanding that Lord Averette continues his search. Lord Hellsman has accompanied Viscount Averette to London.” Marcus quickly realized how Lowery had recruited his brother to mislead Averette.

“So, did anyone tell Uncle Samuel that Velvet has likely been kidnapped by the duke’s former enemy?” the girl’s sharp tone remained.

Marcus took pleasure in Lady Worthing’s devious smile. “As Viscount Averette never presented himself at Linton Park, it was impossible to dissuade him from his misconceptions.”

Marcus had not know much of Eleanor Fowler prior to Kerrington announcing that he would make the woman his wife. All he had known was the woman’s shame–of the degradation under which she had lived with the former duke–and of the elaborate plan executed by the Realm against her tormentor Sir Louis Levering, but he’d liked his friend Fowler’s sister immediately. She possessed an innate intelligence and a willingness to take on a difficult situation. Kerrington, obviously, based his choice on more than the lady’s elegance and beauty, and Marcus quickly judged Lady Eleanor the perfect match for his former leader. “Shall you continue to seek your uncle, Miss Cashémere? It seems that Lord Averette will find nothing in London or Kent to satisfy his anger.” Marcus had turned his attention to his very spoiled traveling companion.

Miss Cashé paused, apparently considering what he said. “It seems more prudent to chase after His Grace and Viscount Lexford.” Again, Marcus searched for an emotional response to her mentioning Lexford’s name; yet, nothing appeared. He wondered if he should warn Lexford of his pursuit’s futility. “Besides, Satiné is in Manchester.”

He asked curiously, “Satiné?”

“My twin...the Fowlers accepted Velvet when our parents died. I stayed with Uncle Samuel, but Satiné resides with my mother’s brother, Baron Ashton of Chesterfield Manor.”

Marcus heard her words, but none of them registered beyond the words my twin. He had known on some level that another Aldridge sister existed, but he was not aware that the third was Miss Cashémere’s twin. Just the word twin brought a groan to his throat.

“I forgot about Satiné being in Manchester,” Lady Worthing was saying. “I am certain Bran will not recall. When was the last time you saw Satiné?”

The girl stiffened. “Nearly three years ago.”

Marcus wanted to be doing more than sitting around sipping tea. “How long has His Grace been in Cheshire?”

“Since yesterday evening.”

He thought aloud. “I am certain he and Lexford are in Liverpool by now. I doubt if Jamot arrived before today. We pressed to reach Linton Park as quickly as we did. Jamot had rougher terrain than did we. Plus, I know time-saving secondary roads.”

Out of nowhere, Cashé unpredictably announced. “We shall leave for Cheshire this afternoon, my Lord.”