Realm 05 - A Touch of Mercy (20 page)

“Wout side?” Aaron asked in anticipation.

“Yes, the lady will escort you outside to play. You must mind her most loyally though.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Without further ado, Aidan handed off the child to the girl. “Miss Chadwick will show you the boy’s quarters. Be certain Master Aaron dresses for the elements.”

His order obviously surprised the girl, but she caught Aaron’s hand, made her curtsy, and turned to follow Miss Chadwick. He liked the fact Miss Hanson understood his intentions: Aidan would judge her competency by observing her interactions with the child.

He looked up to see Miss Purefoy framed by the open door. “I thought you were to send word when you had finished for the day,” he said a bit testily. He once again fought the warmth her appearance brought to his heart.

As he had done, Miss Purefoy ignored the others in the room. “A woman may only remain a lady of leisure so long before she requires more challenging endeavors, my Lord.” Despite everyone looking on, Aidan smiled. He adored the familiar teasing tone Miss Purefoy had adopted with him.

He extended his hand to her. “Then come join me, my Dear. Miss Hanson is escorting Aaron outside so they may learn more of each other.”

Miss Purefoy bent to kiss the top of Aaron’s head. “Hello, my Darling,” she whispered. “You must be a good boy for Miss Hanson,” she instructed.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Then hurry along.” She watched the two women and the child depart before saying, “You, Sir, are quite ingenious.”

Aidan chuckled. “You have come to recognize my manipulations.”

He caught her hand and gently led her to a nearby chair. Aidan noted each gingerly step Miss Purefoy took; the lady was likely severely bruised. He would not mind kissing well each of those bruises. “You mean to know if Miss Hanson can truly contain Master Aaron’s enthusiasm for the outdoors.”

Aidan seated himself across from her. One thing they had quickly learned about the child was Aaron possessed an enormous reservoir of energy, which needed thoughtful planning to control. “How Miss Hanson fares will prove her true credentials.”

“Devious, thy name is Lord Lexford,” she teased.

Aidan chuckled again. “I am pleased you approve. Now tell me how I may serve you. What
more challenging endeavors
have you set for yourself?”

Miss Purefoy retrieved a book from where she had placed it on a side table. “Miss Chadwick has compiled this sample book over the past few years. In it, she has placed bits of cloth of many shades. The pages are bound only by ribbon,” she explained as she opened the handmade book upon her lap. “By doing so, a person may remove and compare the pages for complementary colors. See these two pages hold shades of red. These three hold blue, and so forth.”

Aidan moved to where he might better view the samples. There were squares of cloth and paper and ribbon and even of wood and leaves. “Interesting,” he said as he turned yet another page.

Miss Purefoy bit her bottom lip in hesitation. Aidan knew she still did not feel comfortable speaking for his household, but he had come to rely heavily upon her opinions. “I had thought we might seek cloth of this shade to replace the two worn chairs in the library.” She pointed to a sample of golden hues. “I do not think you would need more than those changes to bring life to the room. We might rearrange some of the pieces, but the furniture is sturdy and speaks of a masculine quality. The drapes and rugs are due a thorough cleaning, but those could wait until spring. With the beeswax shine, the room will sparkle.”

Aidan took the book from her and turned several more pages, flipping back and forth between two samples. “I agree,” he said distractedly. “This one is beautiful, but it is too dark. It would act in opposition to the drapes. You have a good eye for color, my Dear.” He returned the book to her lap. “Tell me what you would choose for my imprint upon Lexington Arms.”

Miss Purefoy blushed. “I have had no occasion to have viewed your chambers, my Lord,” she said softly.

Occasionally, Aidan had to remind himself they had been together for but a month. Miss Purefoy filled the empty spaces he had known forever. “Of course, I will show you my quarters, but perhaps for the time being, I might give you a hint by choosing from Miss Chadwick’s samples.” He turned the pages carefully so as not to dislodge the samples from the wax, which held them. “Here.” Aidan pointed to a deep purple swatch of cloth.

Miss Purefoy did a poor job of hiding her disapproval. “Oh, no, my Lord. That will never do. You are an earth color,” she declared.

“An earth color?” Aidan’s lips turned up in amusement.

“You must wear and use the rich shades of the land,” she asserted. “Blacks and browns and greens.”

It was odd: Those were the colors he would have associated with her. The earth and the blues and grays of the sky.

“Why would anyone assume you would choose the color of royalty? You have no false airs, and if ever there was a man who saw the goodness in all, it would be you, my Lord,” she said earnestly. The woman never hid her feelings. No artifice existed in her speech, except, of course, the possibility of their familial connection. The lady’s praise was a balm to his bruised soul.

“The purple tones were my father’s choice,” Aidan admitted. “I had never thought to change them.”

Miss Purefoy caught his hand. “It is not kind of me to speak poorly of a man I have never met, but you are not of the same ilk as the late viscount. In fact, I doubt there is another quite like you.”

“Damn! The woman knows exactly how to enflame my dreams,” Aidan growled as he undressed for bed. Hours had passed since Miss Purefoy’s innocent pronouncement, but the lady’s words still haunted him. He glanced about his chambers. As was customary, Aidan had moved into his father’s suite of rooms after Arlen Kimbolt’s death. At the time, he had seen the move as symbolic of his transition into the title. As the younger son, Aidan had thought it important for appearances to assume his father’s position, but now he wondered if he had erred. He looked upon the drapes of plum and the bed linens of a similar shade and regretted the decision. “Certainly not of my taste,” he said as he tossed his shirt upon the back of a chair.

“What is not to your taste, my Lord?” his valet asked from the dressing room door.

Aidan often forgot about Mr. Poley’s presence. When he had departed for the war, he had left behind Mr. Stewart, the elderly valet, who had served him throughout his youth and university years. The late viscount had pensioned off the man. After he and the others had rescued Mr. Hill, Lucifer often served the role of valet, but it was as much a part of the ruse the group had practiced, as it was a subservient position for Hill. In reality, Aidan looked on Hill as one of his most trusted friends.

When he had returned to secure the Kimbolt line by marrying his brother’s widow, Aidan had never considered the idea he would one day inherit his father’s title, the late viscount’s chambers, and Viscount Lexford’s valet. Aidan had simply accepted all three as part of his responsibility to the estate. “I have been considering of late redecorating these quarters. I have asked Miss Purefoy for suggestions.”

Mr. Poley looked up from where he folded Aidan’s freshly laundered clothes and frowned. “Do you think that decision a prudent one, my Lord?”

Aidan’s eyebrow rose in curiosity: Mr. Poley rarely expressed an opinion; that is until of late, Poley had kept his silence. Yet, since his sister’s arrival both his valet and his housekeeper had become more vocal. “Do you disapprove of my changing the décor of
my
private quarters or is it Miss Purefoy to which you direct your dissatisfaction?”

Mr. Poley froze, and a multitude of emotions crossed the valet’s countenance. “I…I apologize, my Lord. It is…it is none of my…of my concern how you conduct your viscountcy.”

Aidan bit back his curse. He realized several of his father’s servants, especially Mrs. Babcock, had disapproved of his treating Miss Purefoy as family. Others disagreed with his placing Mr. Hill in a position of oversight; yet, none of the others understood him the way Lucifer and the lady did. His growing dependence on Miss Purefoy’s opinions and his continued reliance on Hill’s should worry him, but Aidan felt secure in the knowledge that both spoke honestly of his past and his future. “Then I will keep my own counsel,” he said aristocratically. “You may be excused for the evening.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

Mr. Poley gathered Aidan’s soiled clothing, bowed, and turned toward the dressing room, but Aidan’s ire continued to simmer. He stopped the man’s exit. “Mr. Poley, I will be most displeased if I discover my decision to shed my father’s feathers has become part of the servants’ gossip line. I hope I make myself clear in this matter.”

“Perfectly, clear, my Lord.”

*

“Mama!” The child’s voice rose in alarm. Mercy pulled the blanket tighter about her. She certainly did not want to relinquish the bed’s warmth to stumble through the darkness to comfort the boy. She had done so every night since Mr. Rhodes had deposited the child in Lord Lexford’s care. Mercy adored Master Aaron, but it would be wonderful if the boy would discover a means of calming himself. Just this one evening, she would love to return to her dreams of the viscount’s endearing smile.

“No, Mama!”

The child’s alarm brought Mercy fully awake. Tossing the linens to the side, she bolted up from the bed. Scanning the room for where the sound of shuffling feet came, Mercy’s eyes noted a brief flash of light as the dressing room door closed quickly. “Aaron! Aaron, where are you?”

“Mar!” the boy called. It was the child’s attempt to say “Mary.” Aaron had only done so for the past few days, and the boy’s familiarity with her had warmed Mercy’s heart.

Mercy’s head snapped to the right. “Stop!” she ordered, but whoever it was who had the boy was running. “Stop! Stop! Stop this instant!” Without considering the consequences, Mercy was running too. She flung open the exterior door in time to see the culprit hurrying toward the burned out rooms. She could not understand why the wall sconces had gone out, but the passage was draped in darkness. “Stop!” she screamed to the retreating form.

Immediately, she was on the move. Aaron was crying loudly, but the figure paid the boy no attention. In his retreat, the interloper overturned small tables to block her way. The noise of the breaking glass and wood only added to the chaos. Deftly jumping over the scattered debris, Mercy ignored the ploy; yet, despite her daring, she was too late. The figure disappeared into the open darkness, and the door to the ruined section slammed shut just as she reached it. As she caught the latch to follow, a bolt on the other side slid into place. “No!” she pleaded as she pounded her small fists against the wood. “No!”

*

The constant tapping ripped Aidan from a sound sleep. “My Lord!” a servant called. “Please, my Lord!”

Aidan stumbled from his bed to yank the door open. “What is it?” he growled.

A young footman in a wrinkled shirt looked about anxiously. “Mr. Payne reports screams coming from the west wing, Sir.”

“What?” Aidan shoved the man to the side and was running through the shadowed passageways

“Break it down!” he heard Hill order as he turned the corner.

“What happened?” Aidan caught Mary’s arm and dragged her from Mr. Hill’s way.

Her lip trembled, and she looked uneasily toward the half broken door. “Someone…someone took Aaron. I could not reach the boy in time.”

“Stay here,” he ordered. “Hill, the servants’ stairs.” Aidan did not wait for Lucifer to respond. Instead, he entered the empty room adjoining the burned ruins and flung the window wide. He climbed through the opening and precariously perched upon a narrow ledge and a protruding hunky punk. Thankfully, he had had no time to don his boots. They would not have served him well in such precarious matters. His toes dug into the soft mortar between the bricks. From behind him, he could hear his men hit the door again. By the sound of it, someone had found an ax.

Aidan took a deep breath to steady his next move. Surprisingly, it took only three long loping straddles to edge through the shell of the charcoaled rotting timbers. Edging about the corner, he scanned the area, but saw nothing unusual. Then a movement to his right announced he was not alone. He swung wildly to cuff his attacker on the chin just as a solid chunk of wood hit him firmly in his chest; thankfully, the blow did not dislodge him. Aidan swung through the crumbled window and chased his attacker, who nimbly outdistanced him. He attempted to ignore the many nails and splinters upon which he stepped, but they slowed his progress.

A light suddenly cut the darkness as his men breached the door. “Aaron!” he heard Mary call as she followed the men through the opening. “Aaron, answer me!”

“Mar!”

Aidan looked up to see the child perched upon a charred crossbeam. “My God!” He halted his chase. Aidan jumped from the burned platform, which had once been part of the flooring of the second level. He landed in a pile of broken boards and debris, but he scrambled to find his footing. “We need more light,” he demanded. “Easy, Boy,” he said softly. His nephew’s eyes announced the boy’s terror. “Do not move.”

“Kared,” the child whined.

Aidan swallowed hard. How could he reach the child? He looked around frantically for something upon which to climb. Above him, he heard Mary’s soothing voice. “Do not move, my Darling,” she cooed. “I am coming for you.”

“No!” Aidan hissed.

Miss Purefoy hung precariously over the edge of a scourched section. “There is no other means, my Lord.”

Aidan stared up at her perfect countenance. “I am not certain the wood will hold your weight,” he said as he examined where the boy clung tightly to his perch. “I will catch Aaron if he falls.”

Mary argued, “But how do we convince the boy to jump to the safety of your arms, my Lord? Master Aaron is but a babe.” Tears misted her eyes. “And his gait is too unsteady to cross the wood on his own.” She hastily shoved away the tear crawling down her cheek. “The wood held long enough for our intruder to place the child in such a perilous situation. Surely, it will hold for a mere woman to rescue the boy.”

Aidan hated this. He did not want Miss Purefoy in danger. “Move slowly,” he said, at last.

With a nod of agreement, Mary edged toward a connecting crossbeam. Despite the close proximity of his men, she caught the hem of her gown and gave it a good tug, which rent the material. She took the ends and wrapped them about her legs creating a pair of short Cossack style pantaloons. His men blushed, but like him, they looked on in admiration. “Magnificent,” he murmured.

“Do not move, Darling,” she encouraged as she worked on her creation. “I am coming after you.”

“Kared,” Aaron continued to sob.

“I know, my Pet, but I mean to assist you. Just remain still for a few more minutes.” She knelt to crawl along the beam on all fours. The wood was likely six inches in width, and Aidan prayed it would hold her weight.

His men held their lanterns and candles high to light her way. Hill appeared beside Aidan. “What is Miss Purefoy doing?” he whispered.

“Rescuing the boy,” Aidan said on a soft exhale. “We must catch them if they fall.”

Hill nodded and sidestepped the clutter scattered about the floor. “I have the girl,” he said softly. “You take Master Aaron.” It made sense. Hill was heavier and taller than he, but Aidan wished to be the lady’s hero. “Your reflexes are faster than mine, and the boy is unpredictable,” Hill said as if his man had thought to soothe Aidan’s pride.

“Look at me, Darling. Do not look down.” Miss Purefoy edged closer to the child. “I am almost there. Be my brave little man.”

“Want my room,” Aaron bawled.

“I know, Darling,” she said softly. “Soon. You must know I shall permit nothing bad to happen to you.”

The boy nodded, but the tears streamed down Aaron’s face. Aidan heard the board groan as she neared the middle. “Slower,” he cautioned as he centered his weight and extended his arms above his head in case the child shifted before she could reach him. He watched anxiously as she sucked in a quick breath before starting forward again.

“Just a few more inches,” she told the boy. Aidan admired how she never looked away from the child. As she neared, Mary said, “When I reach you, you must not move, my Pet. Not until I tell you. We must practice care.” As Aidan watched nervously, Mary lowered her weight upon the beam so her legs hung over either side of the wood.

Aidan breathed a bit easier, but the ordeal was far from over. Mary slowly extended her right arm. “I shall touch you, Darling. Do not be frightened. Permit me to see to your safety.” Keeping her balance, Miss Purefoy carefully scooted forward on the beam as if she were on a tittering board. “Mary loves you, Darling,” she coaxed. “I shall permit nothing to harm you.”

The child’s eyes grew even larger, but thankfully, Aaron listened carefully to what the woman’s said. The boy remained perfectly stationary. Finally, she was close enough to capture Aaron into her embrace. “Oh, my Pet,” she comforted the child as she lifted the boy to her. Mary kissed the side of Aaron’s head. “You were so brave,” she repeated. “I am so proud of you.”

“Kared,” the boy said on a sharp squeal.

“I know, Darling,” Mary said encouragingly. “Now, I must assist you down from here.”

The idea had not occurred to the child before that instant. Aaron turned his head to look about him in fear. “No!” he demanded and tried to squirm away, but Miss Purefoy caught him tightly to her.

Aidan’s breath hitched when he thought they would both tumble over backwards, but she had smartly countered the child’s move with a shift of her weight, just as he had seen her do when riding sidesaddle. “Yes!” she demanded with a slight shake of the child’s shoulders. “Your Uncle Aidan is below us, and he means to have us both down safely.” As she spoke, Mary’s gaze lingered on the far corner, but Aidan assumed she settled her own fears. He had no time to take a proper analysis of what had caught the lady’s attention. Aidan was too busy judging the child’s descent for he held no delusions Miss Purefoy intended to drop the boy into his arms.

As predicted, before the child could send up another alarm, the lady lifted Aaron by his arms and swung the child over the edge of the beam. The boy shrieked in fright, but Miss Purefoy ignored Aaron’s protestations. “My Lord?” she called over the boy’s loud cries.

“I am here,” Aidan declared. “Release him on three. One. Two. Three.”

As if in slow motion, the child dropped from the height. Aidan looked on in amazement as only a screech of surprise broke the night’s silence, but in a split second the boy’s weight hit him hard enough to knock the air from Aidan’s lungs. Nevertheless, he wrapped his arms about the child and held on for all his might. “I have you,” he repeated several times before the child went silent. “I have you,” Aidan said again for good measure. From above a round of cheers broke the night.