Realm 05 - A Touch of Mercy (21 page)

From the shadows, Mr. Payne appeared by his side. “Give me the young master, Sir,” his butler said. “You and Mr. Hill must assist the lady.”

Aidan kissed the boy’s head. “We must see to Mary,” he said as calmly as possible. “Permit Mr. Payne to hold you for a few minutes.” He wiped the child’s tears away before handing his nephew to the elderly butler.

With a deep sigh of relief, Aidan returned to where Miss Purefoy remained perched on the beam above him. “I do not suppose you could crawl back along the wood the way you came,” he said in concern. The lady held perfectly still, and her expression had turned to one of dread.

“I doubt such a scenario is possible, my Lord,” she said without looking in his direction. “The wood is split in the far corner.” An unbecoming hint of dismay laced her tone.

Aidan’s eyes followed hers. He briefly considered the peril. “Damn!” he growled. “Mr. Hill!” he said urgently. He cursed himself for permitting the ruins to stand as a silent tribute to his late wife. His former foolishness never ceased to amaze him.

“I am here, my Lord,” Hill said softly from behind him. “You catch the lady, and I will brace you.”

Aidan chuckled, “You were always the stable one.” He did not remove his eyes from the precarious position in which Miss Purefoy found herself.

Hill said with an easy taunt of familiarity, “One of us must wear the cloak of immovability.”

“My Lord,” Mary called. “Did it hurt when you broke your arm falling from the oak?”

Aidan smiled easily. She was incomparable. “Absolutely!” he said firmly. “But I promise you will know no pain, my Dear. I will guard you with my life.”

“I trust you, my Lord,” Mary declared for all those who looked on. “On three, Sir. One. Two. Three.” With the count, Miss Purefoy swung her left leg over the beam just as it cracked under her weight. Aidan positioned himself beneath her. Unlike the boy, Mary dropped quickly, a muslin-clad bullet. When she hit him, he fell backwards, but Hill’s bulk took the impact. A loud grunt announced Hill’s sturdiness as the three of them collapsed in a pile of legs and arms.

A swish of cool night air had deposited her in his arms; but despite the exquisite feel of Miss Purefoy’s bare legs brushing against his, Aidan could not enjoy the moment. First, his staff peered over the edge of the burned sections of the flooring as his hands automatically searched Mary’s body for any broken limbs, and secondly, Lucifer Hill was not a comfortable mattress upon which to bed a lady.

From everywhere at once, people surrounded them. Mrs. Osborne and Miss Chadwick lifted Miss Purefoy to a standing position and wrapped a blanket about her. “You poor dear,” Mrs. Osborne said as she caught Mary about the waist to lead her away.

The warmth had disappeared with the lady’s retreat, and Aidan rolled to his side to check on Hill. He made it to his knees before he said, “Are you injured?”

Hill groaned and stretched his arm above his head. “Next time I catch the girl and you become the one on the bottom.”

Aidan’s lips turned up in a smile. It was this man with whom he had shared countless adventures and schemes. He pushed himself to a crouched position and extended his hand to Lucifer. “Come, my Friend. I owe you a drink.”

“Make it two.” Hill’s fingers closed around Aidan’s hand.

“Anything you want. I am forever in your debt,” Aidan said heavily.

Hill permitted Aidan to pull him to his feet. Always in the past, Lucifer would have reminded Aidan of his own debt, the one where Hill had promised to serve Aidan for ten years. The man had meant as an actual servant, but it was not in Aidan’s nature to place such a fierce fighter in a menial role, so he had made Lucifer Hill his companion, his friend, and his confidant. Hill had become the “eighth” member of a seven-man team, and when Aidan had returned home to his personal demons, Hill had traveled with him. Henry Hill had put his own life in limbo to be Aidan’s most trusted associate. Now, he regretted his dependence upon the man. It was selfish of Aidan to keep Hill from knowing Hannah as his wife; therefore, he silently vowed to set his life to right as quickly as possible and then say farewell to Lucifer Hill.

“We should see to Miss Purefoy and the boy.” Hill shoved the hair from his face.

Aidan laced his arm about Lucifer’s shoulder in companionship. “It was a good night,” he said with a laugh.

“Being a hero is hard on a man of my advanced years,” Hill declared good-naturedly.

Aidan confided, “I am not certain the lady requires a hero. Did you see her? As calm as the smoothest sea. I have never known anyone like her.”

“Miss Purefoy suits you, my Lord. In the past month, I have heard you laugh and have observed your contentment.” Hill halted their steps. “Grab happiness, my Lord. Grab it with both hands and hold on for all you are worth.”

Aidan’s heart lurched with anticipation. “According to your own tongue, the lady is my sister.”

Hill’s eyes spoke of mirth. “The woman is more family than you have ever known, Lord Lexford.”

Before Aidan could reply, his men surrounded them. “The dang’us thing I’ve ever seen,” Deland declared. “I thought all three of you be dead.”

“Wunkle Waden,” the boy reached for Aidan, and he accepted the child’s embrace. Each time he did so, Aidan wondered why he had denied himself such moments. Aaron was not his child, but it did not mean he could not love the boy.

“You were very brave.” He ruffled Aaron’s hair.

“Have cakes?” The child patted Aidan’s cheeks.

Aidan smiled as the boy’s singular thoughts. “As soon as I set some men to search for our intruder.”

“We have it, my Lord.” Deland lifted his gun in response.

Aidan asked Hill, “Did you see which way the person ran?”

“Toward where the stream narrows behind the copse.” Aidan noted how Hill rubbed his shoulder. He would have Mr. Jamison attend Hill in the morning.”

Aidan hefted Aaron higher. To his men, he said, “I must see to Miss Purefoy and Master Aaron.” To his friend, Aidan said, “Hill, you should come with me. We must inform the magistrate of this break in.”

Hill nodded his gratitude as he fell into step beside Aidan. “My Lord,” he said privately. “Did you notice who rushed to our aid?”

Aidan caressed the back of Aaron’s head. The child rested his head on Aidan’s shoulder. “The footmen…the kitchen staff…the maids…the grooms…”

“And who was not among those responding to the alarm?” Hill prompted.

Aidan stumbled on the graveled path, but he listened carefully to what Hill did not say. His mind raced to understand the predicament, which hung over his house. “The only one I do not recall seeing was Mrs. Babcock.”

“True,” Hill confirmed. “And Mr. Poley. It seems to me if a man’s master was called out by an intruder under his roof, a valet would respond to assure himself said master required no assistance.’

Aidan paused briefly before they entered the house. A sharp flare of dread stabbed his heart. “I so rarely think on Poley’s service unless I require a fancily-tied cravat,” he admitted. He looked about to assure privacy. “I reprimanded Poley earlier for his impertinence.”

Hill said softly, “I will discover where Poley kept his own company. Do not mention our suspicions to the others.”

*

Despite his request for his favorite cakes, the boy was asleep by the time Aidan entered the drawing room where Miss Chadwick flitted about an obviously shaken Miss Purefoy. Someone had retrieved her robe and slippers, but Mary hovered close to the hearth as if she could not know enough of the fire’s heat. Aidan wished to catch her up in his embrace and warm the woman with his body. Instead, he placed the boy on a nearby chaise and covered Aaron with one of Susan’s shawls. The item had been reverently left where it had lain since before his wife’s death.

“Master Aaron appears none the worst for wear,” Miss Purefoy said shakily.

Aidan glanced at his nephew’s innocence. “I imagine, on the morrow, he will be full of tales of his adventure. I fear Miss Hanson will find her first day as Aaron’s nurse a challenging one.”

Miss Purefoy shivered again. “Do you think it best to move the young master so far from where the rest of the household rests, my Lord?”

Aidan understood her fear for the child. He was not happy with how easily someone had breached the lady’s private quarters, but that particular situation would change with the morning light. He would send word to London for Pennington to assign several of the Realm recruits to Lexington Arms until this matter was settled. “Mr. Hill will see to extra men to secure the entrances into the house,” he assured her. Realizing belatedly this discussion would best be held without Miss Chadwick, Aidan asked the girl to see to Aaron. He instructed a footman to carry the boy to Miss Chadwick’s room and to stand guard outside the door.

When the shopkeeper’s daughter disappeared into the night, Aidan placed three chairs close together before the fire. He poured Miss Purefoy a sherry, and he and Hill a brandy. “We have much to discuss,” he said as he joined them.

Miss Purefoy looked about in puzzlement. “I do not understand, my Lord.”

“We are family,” he said simply. “I cannot have you fearing to sleep under my roof. In order to alleviate your anxiety, you must speak of what will bring you peace. If you think my idea of securing the house’s entrances is not adequate, I wish you to voice your concerns. In this matter, I am your servant.”

Miss Purefoy blushed thoroughly. “My Lord, it cannot be so,” she protested. “I cannot presume to speak of your responsibility.”

“Oh, but you must, my Dear.” Aidan smiled easily at her. “Mr. Hill and I find you quite remarkable, and I will not have you relinquish that exemplary quality simply because you do not experience safety at Lexington Arms.”

“It is true, Miss Purefoy. His Lordship and I have often admired your ingenuity and your steadfastness,” Hill declared.

The lady’s face scrunched up in disapproval. “I do not appreciate your levity at my expense, Sirs.”

“What levity?” Aidan said honestly. “I mean what I say. I know few men who would risk what you did to save a small child. The fact you completed an unselfish act speaks highly of the person I have come to know.” He watched as the lady’s shoulders shifted, and she sat more erect. Aidan smiled secretly: Miss Purefoy would recover from her fright.

Hill asked tentatively, “Then we know agreement regarding increasing the number of guards set about the estate?”

Again, the lady frowned, but this time in deliberation. “Should we not first determine why someone would choose to kidnap the young master?”

Aidan’s mouth twitched in amazement. Miss Purefoy had narrowed the problem to its core truth. The lady had the makings of a reliable Realm agent: daring and intelligence. “What do you suppose the person’s motives?”

“Ransom,” she and Hill said together.

“I have not had the opportunity to search your quarters, my Dear, but I would venture to say no demand for money exists within.” Aidan had already considered the possibility of ransom.

Miss Purefoy bit her bottom lip in concentration. “Perhaps whoever took Master Aaron from his bed meant to have the ransom note delivered after the boy was secured.”

Aidan refilled her sherry glass and Hill’s brandy. “Perhaps.” He liked how the color had returned to Miss Purefoy’s cheeks. The sherry and the lady’s constant need to be of use had warmed her and had restored Mary’s normal curiosity. Aidan made a mental note not to permit Miss Chadwick to tend Miss Purefoy too closely. The shopkeeper’s daughter had a tendency to smother her charges with her maternal instincts. Aidan preferred his “sister” with a bit of fire in her stomach.

“What can you tell us about the man who took the boy?” Hill asked.

Miss Purefoy said enigmatically, “Who said it was a man?”

“Of course the perpetrator was a man,” Aidan declared. “Although I did not have a clear look at the person who threw the wood block at me, my attacker was dressed as a man.”

Hill added, “And the shadow I chased through the woods was a male. A woman would have not moved so.”

Miss Purefoy’s nose rose in indignation. “First, Mr. Hill, although I would agree most women would not take to running about dressed in men’s clothing, you must agree the possibility exists.”

“Of course, my Dear,” Aidan said as he sat forward to listen more carefully to the point Miss Purefoy made. “But could you enlighten us as to why you believe the kidnapper could be a woman?”

“The boy, my Lord,” she said confidently. “Master Aaron called out for his mother. He said ‘Mama’ over and over again. It is a word we have heard the child use previously, but never in reference to a man.”

Aidan and Lucifer had sat up long after he had insisted Miss Purefoy find her bed. He had instructed Mr. Payne to permit everyone extra sleep in the morning after such a trying night. Deland had reported no signs of the intruder. The lack of any tangible details frustrated Aidan, but he kept his concerns private. Was there a connection between his three sightings of “Susan” and the taking of his nephew? “The question is whether these sightings are related to my return to Lexington Arms?” Aidan could not seem to shake the idea his memory loss played into the strange happenings.

“Do you ever sleep?” Hill said groggily as he entered the morning room.

Aidan could not recall when he last slept a full night, and the lack of memory had nothing to do with his head injury. “A few hours.” He gestured Hill to join him at the table. “I am wondering if Realm recruits are enough reinforcements for the house,” he said privately.

“I will ride into the village and find a few willing souls to guard the grounds at night.” Hill paused before asking, “Will you inform Rhodes of what has occurred?”

Aidan scowled. “I think not. Rhodes has always considered me less than my father and my brother. My inability to protect my nephew would only prove the man correct.”

“I have never held any respect for an idiot,” Hill said loyally. “And Jonathan Rhodes is the epitome of an idiot.”

Aidan nodded his gratitude before excusing the waiting footman. “Any word on Mr. Poley?”

“According to Mrs. Osborne, late in the evening, Poley complained of a toothache and took himself off to see Mr. Charles in the village. As far as the cook knows, your valet did not return last evening. The woman commented on the unusual circumstances, as your valet rarely leaves the estate.”

Aidan ventured, “So do we know whether Poley actually saw Mr. Charles?”

The pitch of Hill’s voice remained low. “I mean to know the truth of the tale.”

“And Mrs. Babcock?” Aidan had not discounted Miss Purefoy’s idea that the intruder could possibly be a woman.

Hill glanced about to assure himself of their privacy. “The housekeeper contends she had partaken of laudanum to ease the pain of a stiff shoulder. Mrs. Osborne concurs such is Mrs. Babcock’s habit.”

“No wonder the woman is so lethargic at times,” Aidan said caustically.

“There is very little of the woman to admire,” Hill declared.

Aidan placed his serviette on the table. “See me later today.” He stood to leave. “I must post a letter to the Home Office before Miss Purefoy awakes. I plan to spend my day with the lady and my nephew. I fear both may have suffered from their ordeal.”

*

“And these are my quarters,” he announced as he led Miss Purefoy and Miss Chadwick into his private chambers. Even though he recognized Miss Purefoy’s opinion before she spoke the words, Aidan waited impatiently for the lady’s assessment of his quarters’ décor. After three days of carefully watching her well-crafted reactions to everyday household business, Aidan had decided to distract Miss Purefoy with a new project. By his sister’s words the woman loved to be of service; he would use that particular fact to assist her in conquering her fear of his house. What better way to overcome her hesitation than to make the lady intimately familiar with each room?

“I am thankful you warned me of the color,” Miss Purefoy said honestly. “Otherwise, I might have made a terrible guffaw upon observing the inappropriateness of these furnishings for you.”

Aidan squeezed her fingertips. “I would never wish you a social indiscretion, my Dear,” he said teasingly.

“This will not do, my Lord,” she continued. “I cannot imagine you comfortable in such surroundings.” The lady’s words rang true. Aidan had never claimed this room as his own. Instead, he had forced his father’s cloak about his shoulders and pretended to be something he was not. He “was” the viscount, but he was “not”Arlen Kimbolt. His temperament, his tastes, and his opinions differed greatly from his father’s. He had seen the world at its worst and its best, while the late viscount had known only the title and the estate.

Aidan graciously accepted the truth. With an easy smile, he said, “I will leave the choices in your most capable hands.”

Miss Purefoy turned to her companion. “We should sketch the furnishings.” Miss Chadwick nodded and removed a sheet of paper from the artist pouch she carried at her side. As the girl seated herself at a nearby table to make basic renderings of the room, Miss Purefoy strolled about his quarters to examine items more closely.

It was odd. He had never permitted a woman entrance into his private quarters. When he and Susan had first married, he had asked her to lie with him in this room, but his wife had adamantly refused. That fact in itself added to the oddness, but what truly brought forth Aidan’s awareness was how natural Miss Purefoy appeared. As if the room had come alive when his sister entered. She gently caressed several items on the desk. Aidan swallowed hard. It was very intimate to have her touch his personal belongings. “When you have made your choices, I will ask Mr. Poley to move my things to another room while the workmen complete their tasks.” The words sounded breathy even to his ears, and Miss Purefoy glanced up suddenly, as if realizing the inappropriateness of her actions.

Without thinking of the consequences, he gestured to his left. He simply knew he had to maneuver her away from Miss Chadwick, where they might be alone for a few minutes. Of late, Aidan only felt complete in her presence, and the idea of leaving his father’s legacy behind appealed to him. “Would you care to see the dressing room?”

Miss Purefoy took a tentative step in the direction he had indicated. “I…I suppose I should be…should be aware of its arrangement.” The lady blushed, and Aidan realized she thought of his small clothes.

Taking her hand, he brought her to his side. Whispering in her ear, he said, “Mr. Poley is most efficient in his duties.” Miss Purefoy’s color deepened, but she accepted his hand on the small of her back as they moved across the room. When he opened the door to the narrow dressing area, his finding Mr. Poley hard at work surprised Aidan. The valet appeared equally unawares, but the man managed a proper bow.

“Did you require my services, my Lord?” The valet avoided making eye contact with either him or Miss Purefoy, a fact which irritated Aidan.

“No, Poley,” Aidan said with a bit of suspicion. Why would Poley be found at work at the precise moment Aidan had chosen to show his quarters to the lady? Did the man spy upon him? “Miss Purefoy and I are examining my chambers in anticipation of setting workmen to executing the changes I have ordered.”

The valet shot a glance in Miss Purefoy’s direction before saying, “Of course, Sir.”

Aidan said perversely, “I pray your tooth pain has eased, Mr. Poley.” The muscles of Aidan’s jaw tightened.

The valet’s expression showed confusion before the man schooled his emotions. “Much better, my Lord. Thank you for your consideration.” The man hid something, and Aidan did not like it.

He said cautiously, “I feared you fared poorly as you did not return to the estate until the wee hours of the morning on the evening we experience the attempted kidnapping of my nephew. I had thought to send someone to search for you, but no one appeared to have knowledge of your whereabouts. Later, I discovered your suffering had forced you to seek Mr. Charles’s assistance.” He turned a sharp gaze upon the valet.

Mr. Poley shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I did not intend to remain so long in the village, my Lord, but Mr. Charles’s special painkiller was more than I could handle. I am ashamed to say, I was not fit to ride afterwards. I apologize, Sir, for my shortcomings. I did not realize you would require my services, Lord Lexford.”

Aidan could not find the falsehoods in his man’s story, but he meant to examine it more closely. He had sent Hill into the village to speak to Mr. Charles. He pushed past the man. “Although I must admit to have grown accustomed to tending to my own needs when I lived abroad,” he prefaced his statement so the valet would know his standing in the Kimbolt household remained on shaky ground. “Your services were missed, Mr. Poley.” He caught Miss Purefoy’s elbow. “Come along, my Dear.”

He gestured the lady through the adjoining door before he realized what he had done. The drapes were closed, but Aidan required no light to see the room. Even if the sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, he would still fill the cold dread, which had lodged itself in his stomach. “My mother’s room,” he whispered to the emptiness. He had entered the room only twice in the past eighteen years: once as a ten-year-old child grieving for his mother and a second time when he had attempted to convince Susan to agree to change her residence from the west wing to the suite meant for the viscountess. They had had a noisy row, which had the servants gossiping for several days. Six months later, he had buried any hopes of knowing Susan as his wife.

Miss Purefoy’s soft hand slid into his. “It is not necessary to change anything within, my Lord,” she said gently.

Aidan did not move. For a dozen elongated seconds, he did not breathe. Crippling anxiety held him immobile. “I wish to see it in the light,” he rasped.

“Of course, my Lord,” the lady said with a comforting stroke of his arm.

Aidan remained in place as Miss Purefoy moved deftly across the room to drag the drapes to the side and to admit the light. His gaze searched each corner for the ghosts he suspected lingered in the shadows. “The former Lady Lexford…my mother…always welcomed her children in this room. If we were not in the nursery or the schoolroom, Aylene and I were in her presence, playing with toy soldiers or drawing pictures or sharing cakes and tea.”

“Not Andrew?”

Aidan gave a slight shake of his head. “No, Andrew was several years older than Aylene and I. He was at university when my mother passed. While my sister and I played our childhood games, Andrew was learning of his responsibilities to the estate, practicing to be the viscount.”

Miss Purefoy stated the obvious. “Your brother would better have joined his siblings.”

Aidan took a step closer to the bed. “Spending time with my mother remains one of my most cherished childhood memories. I had hoped to marry a woman who would agree such moments were important to a child’s development. I had even foolishly thought as their father I could show my children love also.”

From quietly beside him, Miss Purefoy said, “It is a magical picture you create, my Lord.”

He grimaced in a rueful manner. Aidan was not certain when she had returned to his side, but he brought her into a loose embrace. “It was a foolish dream,” he said bitterly, ashamed of his moment of vulnerability.

Miss Purefoy gave him a hard shake. Her gaze never wavered from his. “I shall tolerate no disparagements, Lord Lexford. I speak for my sex when I say your dream is one any woman would embrace.”

Despite his growing despair, the lady’s loyalty brought a smile to Aidan’s lips. “Not every woman,” he contended. “My wife shunned the possibility. In the few short months Susan lived after Aaron’s birth, I recall but a half dozen times she showed tenderness toward my brother’s child. Toward her child.”

He heard the snit of disapproval Miss Purefoy attempted to hide, and Aidan found he desired the lady’s endorsement. “I cannot speak to Lady Susan’s mental state for I have known no one who has experienced such incapacitating grief, but I would imagine the previous Lady Lexford’s circumstances did not permit her a clear head.”

Despite his heartache, Aidan agreed. With a determined smile, he turned Miss Purefoy where she might view the room. “What should be changed in this one?” he said with feigned joviality.

A long pause followed. So long he did not think she would answer. “Actually, the colors are not as severe in this room as in yours,” she said kindly. “I would keep the lilac, but add a leafy green and the purest white to brighten the room. Several of the pieces are too heavy and too dark for most contemporary tastes. However, I think them quite interesting in their design. I would move them to one of the guest rooms. That wardrobe, for example, has a distinctive cut, and in a room with rose tones, the color would take on a mahogany shade.”

Aidan studied the piece in question. “I believe you correct, my Dear. The chest belonged to my maternal grandmother. I suppose my mother held onto it in remembrance. It would please me to see it shown to its best advantage.” Miss Purefoy leaned against him, her back plastered along his front. Aidan rested his chin on her head and his hands on her upper arms. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for allowing my dream to live. For permitting me to hope again.”

*

The work began in earnest before the week was out. Miss Chadwick’s sketches and Miss Purefoy’s detailed lists had men scurrying to meet both ladies’ wishes. Aidan enjoyed the activity. It made his house appear alive. Between Mr. Hill, who had volunteered to oversee the workers, and Mr. Chadwick, who meant to see his daughter’s vision successful, additional men had been hired to complete the work with record speed. Aidan had moved into a room across from his quarters so he might keep his eye on the progress. “A new beginning,” he had told himself repeatedly.

“What have we here?” he asked as he casually strolled into his bedchamber. It was the second week of the transformation, and he looked upon the busy workers with anticipation.

Hill glanced up from where he studied Miss Chadwick’s drawings. “These women have great vision,” Lucifer said jovially.