Realm 05 - A Touch of Mercy (27 page)

“Do not consider resistance!” Sir Carter ordered. There were a few minor scuffles, but surprisingly the men found within the warehouse surrendered without a confrontation. Aidan breathed a bit easier, but he kept the weapon leveled upon the group. Despite knowing, he had participated in more than a hundred such attacks, the experience felt foreign, as if he were a mere recruit again.

He followed Swenton’s lead and isolated the group’s leaders. On alert, Aidan’s eyes scanned each movement of these dealers in opium. “Escort these men to our cells,” Sir Carter ordered the young recruits known as Henderson and Van Dyke. According to Sir Carter, these two were the most promising of the post war enlistees.

“Aye, Sir.” Soon all but three men had been secured in one of the Realm’s secret holding facilities.

Aidan had yet to release his grip on the gun. “Are you well?” Wellston asked quietly from beside him.

Aidan nodded. “Felt like some new conscript,” he confessed. “I suppose I lost some of my previous bravado along with my memory.”

Wellston chuckled. “I am pleased to hear it,” his friend said easily. “As I climbed the wall outside, I had the sudden thought of what would happen to Cashémere and to Trevor and to my estate if I had fallen and had broken my neck.”

Aidan said with relief, “We are growing older, my Friend. We should leave the heroics to Sir Carter’s new young bucks.”

Wellston’s smile widened. “I was thinking something similar.”

“Your Lordships!” Swenton called from the open door to a small office. “You must see this.”

Aidan and Wellston hustled to join Swenton and Lowery. “What is amiss?” Wellston asked as he led the way.

Sir Carter was pouring over unfurled maps. “It appears the opium lines have stretched to your neighborhood, Lexford, as well as into Manchester.”

Aidan and Wellston leaned over either side of where the baronet studied the maps. Aidan’s finger traced the line, which led dangerous close to the village his estate supported. “Do we know what these symbols mean?” he asked distractedly.

“Never seen them before,” Sir Carter said just as abstractedly. “We will question the prisoners, but it may take some time to ‘convince’ them to cooperate.”

Wellston reminded them, “This is ominous, but Lady Yardley and I will not be in Manchester long enough to do more than sound an alarm.”

Aidan continued to examine the map, memorizing details and praying his ability to retain such facts would not be interrupted by his memory loss. “Why not involve Baron Ashton? From what you have shared, the baron requires something to serve as a distraction from his trials with Miss Satiné; and he is former Realm.”

Wellston caught Aidan’s eye as they peered around Sir Carter. “Yours is an excellent idea. Will you return with me to Chesterfield Manor to convince the baron?”

Aidan nodded toward Sir Carter. “Should we not earn Lowery’s approval before we change the prescribed plan?”

Sir Carter said testily, “Since when have either of you listened to orders?”

Aidan placed his arm around Sir Carter’s shoulders. Good-naturedly, he teased, “Since when did you lose your sense of humor?”

Swenton said without looking up from a box of papers he had unearthed beneath a loose floorboard. “Since Carter heard Pennington has placed Lowery’s name in the hat to replace him once Pennington marries the dowager duchess.”

Aidan’s smile turned up his lips’ corners. “Really? That would be excellent, Lowery. I can think of no one who deserves the position more.”

Carter said self-consciously, “Other names are on the list. More prestigious names. I am only a newly-minted baronet.”

Wellston reminded their friend, “Pennington has no title, and he has served the Realm for several decades.”

“Neither did Pennington have military experience,” Aidan added.

Swenton stood to add his find to the documents on the table. “The others are correct, Lowery. You have as good of an opportunity as your competition. However, I do wish you would find your amiability again.”

Aidan added sagely, “It is as John says; do not sacrifice your principles. You can be an efficient leader and still show compassion. If you must change to earn the position, is it truly worth having?”

“Pennington never relinquished his ideology,” Wellston reasoned.

Lowery groaned, “Pennington worked his way through the ranks. I keep thinking if I could capture Jamot…”

“Do not overanalyze it,” Swenton warned. “Earn the position on your own terms.”

Lowery sighed heavily. “I know you speak the truth. I suspect I caught a bit of my father’s fever. I kept the baron away from Lawrence and Arabella during my brother’s courtship of the lady. A man with Baron Blakehell’s ambitions is difficult to refuse.”

They were all well aware of how the baron had manipulated Carter’s older brother. “You never wanted to be the baron’s favorite son in the past, why would you do so now?” Aidan asked suspiciously.

Lowery looked away, but he said, “Waterloo was not enough for the baron to see me. Neither was the Prince Regent’s presentation of the baronetcy.”

Wellston advised, “Blakehell sees you, Lowery. Your father does not know how to express his pride. I felt the same with Trevor and Myles before me, but the earl finally said the words I most wanted to hear. Give the baron time.”

Having shared the intimate moments meant only for those who had weathered tragedies and tribulations, Lowery nodded sharply, but he did not respond. Understanding stood righteously between them. “Then we are agreed: Wellston will recruit Baron Ashton to head the Manchester investigation. Pennington has cleared the baron of any wrongdoing in that matter with Viscount Averette.”

“Agreed,” their trio responded.

Wellston reached for his gloves and the Manchester map. “I will return this by week’s end. Are you coming, Lexford?”

A knot of anxiety tore through Aidan’s stomach. He would prefer to return to Cheshire, but he said, “Permit me to retrieve Valí from the stable.” As he followed his best friend from the room, Aidan’s heart pounded in his ears. He was returning to the site of where he had lost his memory. He wondered if the visit would restore some of the missing details or leave him more confused.

“To where might you be off, Miss Purefoy?” Mr. Hill had asked as she passed him in the upper passageway. Mercy had set her steps beyond the guest chambers to which she had directed her efforts in the viscount’s absence. Lord Lexford had been gone from the house but four days, but to Mercy it felt a lifetime. Mr. Hill had taken Mercy into his confidence and had explained the reason for Lord Lexford’s quick withdrawal and the suspicions the viscount held. His Lordship meant to solve the mysteries shadowing his house. Mercy understood the viscount’s need to control his world; however, she did not wish to think on Lord Lexford being in danger. The man was too essential to her.

“You are too efficient, Mr. Hill,” Mercy said good-naturedly. “You have no need for my opinions. The room has come together nicely. We should set some of the men in preparation for the adjoining suite tomorrow. I have located a bed and wardrobe in the west wing, which will complement the rose tones in both rooms. And I would place the chest from Lady Cassandra’s room within the suite.”

“Just tell Mr. Payne what you desire, and he will have the men move the furniture.” Mr. Hill stepped closer for privacy. “You deftly avoided my question, Miss Purefoy. You are dressed for the cold, so I assume you mean to partake of the grounds.”

Mercy nodded in the affirmative. “The house is too silent. Even with the hammering and workers scurrying everywhere, the rooms have lost their appeal as a distraction.”

Thankfully, Mr. Hill did not comment on Mercy’s confession. “Lord Lexford would not approve of your going out alone. Take Miss Chadwick or Millie with you.”

“Serena has joined the seamstresses to explain how she wants the drapes to hang,” Mercy protested.

Mr. Hill said firmly, “Then take your maid. His Lordship has charged me with your care, and I will not permit you to wander the estate grounds alone.”

Mercy frowned, but she accepted the man’s need to secure her safety. After all, she was not as familiar with the area as was he, and in many ways, it was wonderful to have someone who would grieve for her if something untoward happened. “I shall not be long.”

*

Aidan’s anxiety rose as he dismounted before Chesterfield Manor. He barely acknowledged the young groom who had hustled to capture his and Wellston’s reins. Aidan stared at the façade he had last glimpsed as he and Fowler had ridden away from Baron Ashton’s home the previous October. As he had relaxed into the leather squabs of the duke’s carriage, Aidan had gloomily realized he held no memory of ever entering the baron’s home, and today, the same feeling of fear crept through Aidan’s veins. There was something ominous about entering the manor after so many months–as if its walls knew a secret they refused to disclose. With a few deep breaths, he made his feet turn toward the open door. People within would recognize him from his weeks of recovery under the baron’s roof, but he would not be able to return the acknowledgement by pronouncing a once-familiar name. Unwelcome feelings of pity rushed to his heart, and Aidan worked hard to school his expression.

He had supposed even Wellston had forgotten the fact Baron Ashton remained a stranger to Aidan until his friend whispered, “Follow my lead.” Aidan nodded his gratitude, but Wellston’s gesture did little to ease Aidan’s anxiety.

“Good day, my Lord,” the baron’s butler greeted Wellston. “I have sent a maid to inform both the baron and Lady Yardley of your return.” The man accepted Wellston’s gloves and hat.

“Thank you, Mr. Whitcomb.” The earl emphasized the man’s name, and Aidan gave a quick nod of understanding.

“And Viscount Lexford,” Whitcomb continued. “The staff will be pleased to know of your continued good health, my Lord.”

Aidan accepted the man’s greeting with simple words of “thanks.” He handed the butler his hat, gloves, and crop before looking up to see a slightly graying man approaching. Although he possessed only a faint memory of Fowler explaining how Richard Breeson had accepted the position as Ashton’s steward, Breeson’s was one face Aidan could easily recall. “You have brought us well-known company,” Breeson greeted the earl with the ease of long years of being together. Richard Breeson had once served as Wellston’s batman and had lost an arm in battle saving the earl from a blind attack from an enemy soldier. In payment, Wellston had provided Breeson a position on the Tweed Hall estate. When Ashton required a new steward, Wellston had nominated his long time servant.

Despite being more than a bit anxious over greeting so many forgotten faces, Aidan kept a welcoming smile upon his lips. His may be a familiar countenance to this household, but beyond Wellston, and now Breeson, Aidan recognized none within. Even the rooms were unfamiliar because Fowler had insisted they leave for Kent on the day the physician pronounced Aidan well enough to leave his bed. That particular realization plagued Aidan, but something else, something infinitely more personal, scratched at his memory. He supposed it had something to do with the reason he had come to Chesterfield Manor: He had meant to woo Miss Cashémere with the intention of marriage. Yet, even recognition of that distinct fact did not satisfy the “itch,” which begged to be discovered. Aidan certainly hoped some day all the searching for answers would end, and his memory would return.

He extended his left hand to catch Breeson’s left. “Good day, Breeson. I had forgotten you had joined the baron’s staff.”

Wellston explained, “Breeson has settled down. He has married Faith Molson, the physician’s daughter from our village.”

Aidan smiled genuinely for the first time since entering Chesterfield Manor. “Then I wish you happy. You deserve it, Breeson.”

“I cannot speak to deserving Mrs. Breeson, but I am more than content.”

Although Aidan truly wished the man well, a pang of envy appeared. Except for his own sorry state, it seemed everyone had found someone to return his affections.

A woman he knew to be Lady Yardley appeared upon the stairs, and Wellston met his wife’s descent to catch her up in a tight embrace. “Marcus!” she squealed, but the lady lifted her chin for Wellston’s kiss. No one among their class ever showed affections before others, but Aidan’s friend ignored propriety. Instead of being repulsed by the earl’s actions, Aidan swallowed his jealousy. After all, he had set his sights on Cashémere Aldridge long before Wellston had recognized the lady’s beauty. If he had been successful, it could be he making a cake of himself over his wife rather than being an admiring stranger. Wellston’s loving gaze rested upon his wife, and that simple gesture made Aidan feel worse. Fate had a way of turning the world on its head.

The lady broke from her husband’s embrace to greet Aidan. Extending her hands to him, Lady Yardley said, “Lord Lexford, you are most welcome, Sir. I was so pleased to hear of your return to health.” He noted her sorrow-filled gaze asking for forgiveness.

“Thank you, Lady Yardley.” Aidan lifted the woman’s hand to brush his lips across her knuckles. Immediately, he wondered where the spark of recognition had gone. Of course, the woman was his best friend’s wife, but according to what all the other Realm members had assured him, Aidan had once been very besotted with the lady. Should there not be a zing of desire, something similar to what he felt whenever he touched Miss Purefoy? “My life has taken a turn for the better of late.”

“And your memory, my Lord?” she asked softly.

Aidan searched the lady’s countenance for a flicker of familiarity. Whatever had existed between them had disappeared. They would begin anew as friends. “I must report no progress on that particular front, my Lady.”

A pronounced frown formed on Lady Yardley’s lips. “Time has a way of healing all ills, my Lord.” She glanced to her husband. “Uncle Charles is in his study. He asked we join him there.”

“This way.” Wellston motioned toward the stairs. Aidan dutifully placed Lady Yardley on his arm, but again he felt nothing more than the uncomfortable nagging of missing details from his life.

Reaching the point where Wellston awaited them, Lady Yardley wrapped her arm through her husband’s to walk between them. Aidan swallowed hard. The past was better left to its misery. The situation remained awkward, but he knew he must push through it or lose Wellston’s friendship, something Aidan was not prepared to do.

“Uncle!” Lady Yardley called as they entered the room. “We have brought you company.”

A man rose heavily from where he sat behind a dark wood desk. The room was sparsely furnished, but Aidan approved of the décor. It spoke of a well-organized mind.

“Ah, Lord Lexford,” the baron said genially. “I am pleased you have returned to Chesterfield Manor. Perhaps you will be a good omen for the estate–will herald the return to normalcy.”

Aidan kept his voice even. “As much as I pray for a resolution of your latest tragedy, I would prefer not to wear the cloak of the Angel of Hope.” He noted Wellston’s pronounced frown so Aidan added, “My life remains in disorder, and I would not wish it upon another.”

Lady Yardley said, “But I thought you spoke earlier of your fortunes having taken a turn for the better.”

Aidan remained where he stood while Wellston seated his wife. He thought of the red gold-framed countenance of Miss Purefoy’s lovely face, and a smile tugged at the corners of Aidan’s mouth. “My life has experienced golden glimmers of anticipation. I have discovered a familial connection of which I was unaware, and my nephew has returned to his father’s home. In addition, my house is glowing from a much overdue renovation; however, my memory from the time of my arrival from the East to the present remains elusive. In truth, I walked into this house with only the earl’s and Mr. Breeson’s countenances as part of my memory. Forgive me if I do not wish to be the bearer of lost expectations.”

“You sound bitter, my Lord,” Ashton observed as he sat once again. The man appeared tired from the exertion.

His conscience twanged. “I do not mean to add sullenness to the situation, but, of late, speaking honestly has served me well.” Aidan looked upon three guilty countenances. He should feel regret for having placed these three in an discomforted moment, but perhaps it would be better to clear the fog hanging over the room.

Lady Yardley said quietly, “Not a day goes by, my Lord, where I do not know remorse for my actions in precipitating your injury. I never meant to hurt you, my Lord.”

“But you did hurt me, Lady Yardley. You treated my honest regard as a playing chip to discard at your whim.” Aidan found saying the words were not as satisfying as he had anticipated, but he still found the moment infinitely more rewarding than pretending nothing had happened, which was exactly what propriety would expect of him.

Wellston stepped between Aidan and Lady Yardley. “If anyone is to blame, it is I. If you have a grief to air, it should be with me, Lexford. I encouraged Cashémere.”

Aidan said earnestly, “I have no grief with anyone within these walls. I told you honestly to follow your heart, Wellston; but neither can I pretend we have always played fairly between us. It does not mean I hold you in less regard than I did previously. The situation simply requires us to begin anew; you, Lady Yardley, and I must acknowledge our past,
all
of our past. We must accept the fact that Fate pulls the strings, and we are but marionettes.”

Ashton said sagely, “Lord Lexford is correct. We cannot change what happened yesterday or a week ago or several months long gone. If it were possible to do so, I would turn over the incriminating information I possessed on Viscount Averette. If so, my sweet Satiné would be in Cheshire and preparing for her first Season.”

“My sister shall return soon,” Lady Yardley assured her uncle.

“I appreciate your kindness, Cashémere, but I must face the possibility that Satiné is even now lost to me forever.” He motioned Wellston and Aidan to chairs. “Please join us, Lord Lexford. Together we will find a means to a better situation. The future may not hold what we originally planned, but we welcome it nonetheless. Obviously, doing so is better than the alternative.” Aidan thought of Mary and Aaron. Neither had been part of his plan, but they each had enriched his life. He would cherish their time together.

*

“You may return to the manor, Millie.” Her maid openly shivered from the cold. “I mean to spend a bit more time outdoors.” For once the young girl did not argue with her. Mercy had twice walked the length of the groomed parkland, now dormant from the winter’s frost. Although her fingers and toes screamed for a warm fire, she turned her steps toward the outcropping where Lord Lexford had taken his fall. Although she trusted His Lordship’s version of the story, Mercy’s practical side said it impossible for either ghost or human to disappear into solid rock. She would inspect the area to discover answers to the questions, which nagged her waking hours.

A quarter hour brisk walk brought her to within the vicinity of the scene Mr. Hill had described. No longer did the water pour from the rock face as per His Lordship’s rendition of the events. Instead, a steady trickle of water slid down from above. Mercy followed the sound to look upon the area in daylight.

The outcropping was little more than the side of a hill swept away over the years by the cut of the stream flowing into the River Goyt. It stood some fifteen to twenty feet above her head. The sight sent a shiver of dread down Mercy’s spine. “His Lordship is fortunate he survived the drop,” she murmured. “How sad we all would have been with a different outcome.”