Realm 05 - A Touch of Mercy (10 page)

He rushed across the groomed lawn to search for something that no longer existed. His breath came shallow with fear.

“What is amiss, my Lord?” Lucifer stood close behind him, and Aidan was once more thankful for the man’s loyalty.

He stopped, took a breath, and blew it out again. “Did you see her?” Aidan growled.

Hill asked in a tone that said he knew the answer before uttering the question. “See who, my Lord?”

“Who else?” In frustration, Aidan jammed his fingers into his hair. “Susan.”

“Susan? Lady Susan?” Hill said cautiously.

Aidan’s heart jumped, but he quickly brought his breathing under some form of control. He threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “I know.” He stormed away from his man. Hill looked on in concern. “I know,” he said to emphasize the point. “I understand my wife is dead. I saw the sexton place her body into the Kimbolt crypt. I have mourned her.” Even to him, Aidan’s voice held traces of desperation.

“Could you have fallen asleep? Have dreamt of the late Lady Lexford?” Hill suggested.

Aidan turned angrily on the man. He gritted his teeth before giving himself a good mental shake. “I was awake, I tell you. I watched the evening gather outside my window. I had turned to retrieve the book Miss Purefoy had suggested. It was then I saw Susan, standing with her back to me.”

Hill directed their steps farther from the house after excusing the footmen awaiting Aidan’s orders. “Could your evening with Miss Purefoy have prompted the memory of Lady Lexford?” Hill stood close as if to shield Aidan from the outside world.

Through tight lips Aidan growled, “I had no hallucination, Lucifer.” He hoped his voice did not reflect the panic coursing through his veins. “And yes, I am aware of the effects of prolonged use of laudanum, but a week after my return to consciousness, I refused all use of the drug. It has been more than six weeks since my recovery, and other than this damnable memory loss, I have experienced no difficulties. Why, pray tell, would an evening with Miss Purefoy bring on a manifestation of my late wife?”

Hill scrubbed his face with his palms. “Perhaps you felt guilt over enjoying Miss Purefoy’s company.” Lucifer looked about in disbelief. “I truly have no idea, my Lord. However, you have taught me to consider all the possibilities.”

Aidan’s frustration lessened. “As such, could we examine the area for proof of or a refutation of my tale?”

Hill nodded his agreement. “I will take the left side and meet you at the opening of the grove.”

*

They had searched for more than an hour, but to no avail. There was no sign of his mystery woman. Hill had promised to search again with the morning’s light; however, Aidan held little hope of vindication. He had returned to the window in his quarters to resume his vigil. Subconsciously, Aidan knew
Susan
would not return this night, but he watched for her nevertheless. From somewhere below, the grandfather clock chimed the midnight hour, and he shot a glance to the ormolu clock on the mantel to confirm the time. “Nothing to see,” he murmured to the darkness surrounding him.

How many nights had he stood watch throughout the slowly moving hours? More times than he cared to recall. Watching for the Realm’s many enemies, but not
his
enemy. His enemy had dwelled in this house, among his family. His brother. Such a deep betrayal. His family had all known how deeply he had affected Susan Rhodes. He had spoken of little else for years. “Had no one been listening?” he growled. “Was I so insignificant as not to have my feelings recognized? Had I only been the proverbial ‘spare,’ after all?”

Aidan rested his forehead against the cool glass. “No one,” he whispered simply to hear his own voice. “No one has cared,” he reluctantly admitted. “Not since Mother’s passing.” The words ripped at his heart, but he knew them to be true.

He turned from the glass and walked toward his waiting bed. Aidan despised sleep. When he slept, all the ills of his world visited him. He collapsed diagonally across the mattress. Grabbing handfuls of the blanket, he draped the woolen linens across him. He should undress: His valet would have a fit in the morning, but for the moment, Aidan did not care. He had found the day exhausting, and for once, he hoped it would be enough to permit his mind to know peace.

*

“Miss Purefoy,” Aidan said cheerfully as he entered the morning room. “I am pleased you are an early riser.” He had actually slept until four of the clock before the nightmares had returned. He reached for a plate to claim a few of his favorites from the breakfast items.

“I am, Lord Lexford.” The lady’s melodic tones eased the tension between Aidan’s shoulders. Perhaps the woman was what she claimed. Would it not be doubly ironic if his father’s death had not only thrust Aidan into the role the late Arlen Kimbolt had designed for Andrew, but had also provided Aidan with family, at last? With his father’s passing, it had become common knowledge in the neighborhood that the late viscount’s manipulations had robbed Aidan of a brother, a wife, and a child. “I had thought I might find something useful to fill my day.”

He sat at the table’s head. “I have told you previously; there is no need for you to earn your keep,” Aidan said softly to maintain privacy.

Miss Purefoy shot a quick glance to where a footman awaited their orders. “But I insist, my Lord,” she said in hushed tones. Her blunt manner of speech did not offend him. Instead, he found her stubborn boldness starkly refreshing.

Aidan also enjoyed the way the December sun, reflecting through the high windows, kissed the golden threads of her hair. A shaft of light caused her locks to glow from within. “You may repay me by keeping me company.”

“I shall do both,” she declared.

Aidan spread jam upon his toast. “We should also see to finding you a maid,” he observed.

“May we wait, my Lord? I have no need of a maid to attend to only my needs, and I would not wish to impose upon your staff.”

Aidan smiled easily. “I suppose you mean to insist again.”

Chocolate eyes shimmered with amusement, and Miss Purefoy’s dimple reappeared. It drew Aidan’s eye to its indentation, and he smiled inwardly. “See how you are learning my ways.”

“And people think me the lesser son.” He had answered in a jest, but truth rested within the words.

The lady grimaced. “Never would I speak disparagingly of you, my Lord. Even on our short acquaintance, I find you quite unmatched.”

Her words caught Aidan unawares. Few, other than Hill and his Realm friends, would come to his defense. It was not as if those with whom he did business would malign him. It was worse: They pitied him. He was the fool who had served his family most dutifully and had nothing to show for his efforts. “It was misplaced banter, my Dear.”

Silence filled the empty spaces between them. Aidan turned his efforts to the food upon his plate. He lifted the last of the ham to his mouth, but before he could finish it off, the lady stopped him cold by asking, “When will we gather the greenery for Christmastide, Lord Lexford?”

“Christmastide?” Dumbfounded, he stared at her in disbelief.

“Yes, Christmastide.” Miss Purefoy said with satisfied amusement tugging at her mouth’s corners. “As in a fortnight forward.”

Aidan placed his fork heavily upon his plate. His expression scrunched up in a rueful manner. “I had not considered celebrating the Festive Days. I doubt this household has acknowledged Christmas or Twelfth Night since before my mother’s death some eighteen years prior. Certainly not in the past eight years. For the past four, we have been in mourning,” he admitted by way of apology.

“But you are no longer in mourning,” she asserted.

Aidan hesitated. If he wished to place the past behind him forever, celebrating the upcoming festivities would be a small step in that direction. With a shake of his head, he said, “No. No, we are not. In fact, we have experienced enough of Death’s hand. I have cast my vow for Life.”

Miss Purefoy giggled, and Aidan thought it was the sound of Christmas bells. It was certainly the sound he wished to fill his house. “Then may we choose greenery for the mantels and the staircase?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a smile. “Go fetch your cloak and mittens. I will make arrangements for the cutters.”

Miss Purefoy rose, and Aidan followed her to his feet. “And several old blankets, my Lord. Do not forget the blankets.” She hurried away in excitement.

A few seconds later, Hill appeared framed by the open door. “You have made the lady happy, my Lord,” he said with amusement.

Aidan returned to his meal. “We have decided to celebrate Christmastide, Hill,” he announced. Without looking at his friend, he waited for the man’s protest; however, it did not come.

“It is time,” Hill said solemnly.

Aidan excused the footman before he motioned Hill to a chair. “Do you truly think so? I have considered the possibility my memory might not return as I wish it to do, but that does not mean I must give up on life. I should like to know a bit of what Kerrington and the others have found. Should not the time be right?” Hesitation lingered in his tone.

Hill said earnestly. “You have suffered enough. If inviting Christmas into this house brings you one full minute of happiness, I think it an act of genius.”

Aidan leaned forward to say privately. “I have no idea how to go about it. I know nothing of celebrating Christmas. Other than to have been a guest at various house parties over the years, I hold few memories of the Festive Days. Where do we begin?”

Hill said easily, “Trust the lady, my Lord. One thing I have learned from my Hannah is that ladies are possessed of a natural inclination on how to make a house livable. They know what makes a man feel comfortable in his skin.”

Aidan said anxiously, “Will you assist me in organizing this venture?”

Hill stood slowly. “You bring the lady about, and I will have the men prepared to do your biding.” Hill turned toward the door. He said cockily, “And thank you, my Lord.”

“For what do I receive your gratitude?” Aidan puzzled.

“I am most anxious to observe Mrs. Babcock’s countenance when I tell her she has work to do. The old bitty is too assured in her position. I think it about time she earns her keep.”

Aidan frowned deeply. “Tell Mrs. Babcock this is my wish. Do not place the blame on Miss Purefoy’s shoulders,” he cautioned.

Hill grinned widely. “Perhaps I will tell her it is my wish, my Lord.” Over his shoulder, his man said in a mild taunt, “Enjoy the day, Lord Lexford, and be certain to wear your leather gloves. You will require them for the holly.”

*

Aidan had never cut evergreens. When he was a child, he and his brother and sister had raced about to find the best branches, but the former Lady Lexford had refused to permit them to risk being injured. With a deep sigh of both frustration and excitement, he watched as the men gathered supplies for the cut. “Follow the lady’s lead,” Hill whispered close to Aidan’s ear. He whipped around to see his man walking casually toward the tree line.

With a chuckle, he turned his attentions to the woman by his side. Executing an exaggerated bow, he said, “I am your humble servant, Miss Purefoy.”

The lady swatted at his arm. She giggled again, and the sound mystified Aidan. Why had he never acknowledged the magic of a woman’s smile prior to today? “You are dressed too well for a servant, my Lord.” She gestured to the overspreading branches. “I think it best if we ask some of your men to do the cutting.”

He caught at his heart as if she had wounded him. “You think so poorly of my physical prowess, my Dear?”

This time Miss Purefoy laughed, and Aidan found that particular sound even more addicting than her giggle. “I would not wish you to break your arm again, or, Heaven forbid, have you soil your breeches with tree sap.”

“You place a trial before me, my Lady. Women are infamous for enflaming a man’s desire to prove himself worthy, but I will gladly succumb to your challenge.” Throughout his speech, Aidan had strutted about like a conceited peacock. He hoped to elicit another laugh from Miss Purefoy’s full lips.

She good-naturedly rolled her eyes at his antics, but despite the lady’s best efforts, her smile exploded to sparkling effects. Aidan’s heart clenched in satisfaction. “Then
Lay on, Macduff, and damned be him who first cries 'Hold! Enough!” Miss Purefoy declared with a flourish of her own and another girlish giggle. She caught up her skirt tail and drifted off toward several hearty evergreens. One of his men trailed after her, and Aidan thought the young gardener the smartest one of those gathered about.

He watched her go before turning to his head gardener. “You must mold me into the lady’s hero.” He caught the man’s shoulder. “Tell me where to begin, Mr. Ryan.”

When the man smiled, his wrinkles met. “You were always the gallant one, my Lord.”

This time being called “gallant” had not stung. Instead, it was comforting revelation. Aidan said with new affability, “Please say you hold knowledge on how to please the lady in this matter?”

“I do, Lord Lexford. Come with me.” Aidan followed the man, who had served the Kimbolt family for more years than Aidan had been alive, into the woodland surrounding the main house. “We must choose the best holly branches, one loaded with lots of berries to set against the green silk of the leaves.”

“Like those?” Aidan rushed to the stand of holly trees.

“Exactly, my Lord.” Mr. Ryan chose a branch. “Make your cut at the notch so the branch left behind will sprout another for next year.”

Aidan listened closely. He had never considered how much knowledge Mr. Ryan and his staff must possess in order to keep the Lexington Arms’ grounds immaculately beautiful. It made him wonder how many other things about his house of which he had never taken note. “Excellent advice, Mr. Ryan,” he said with true admiration. “How many should I cut?”