Realm 03 - A Touch of Cashemere (11 page)

Cashé smiled at Sonali’s manipulations. “Would you care to take a walk a bit later, Darling?”

“Would you, Miss Cashé?” The child’s smile grew.

“I have a few errands, but I will come to the nursery soon.”

The girl giggled, dropped a curtsy, said her “thank yous” and skipped away.

Marcus did not look forward to spending another week away from his own properties. Neither could he sit through more discussions on the wedding. The women were all atwitter with dress fittings and flowers. Kerrington, still recovering from his broken ribs, judiciously agreed to escort the women wherever they needed to go. Lowery and Kimbolt had decided to deliver a personal invitation to the wedding to Carter’s brother, Lawrence Lowery. Lord Hellsman had distracted Averette while the Realm had staged Velvet’s rescue. The Lowery estate was a two-hour ride north of Linton Park; however, Marcus had declined to join them. Instead, he had agreed to take Worthing’s son out for the day. Therefore, he and Daniel Kerrington walked toward the largest tarn on the Linworth estate.

“Do you like to fish?” Marcus asked the boy as they approached the lake.

Daniel’s face glistened with a patina of sweat. “Oh, yes, Sir, but I am not often permitted to do so.”

The boy reminded Marcus of his brother Trevor–all rambunctious enthusiasm. The eleven-year-old favored his father, his quick mind indicating the boy’s intelligence far exceeded his years. Marcus had always enjoyed being around Daniel. He had observed bits of himself in the boy: Daniel had spent most of his time with adults, and so the child’s mature vocabulary sometimes shocked an onlooker. Yet, he was still a boy–exuberant and boisterous, and the contrast made people unsure of how to react to him.

“Well, it is a fine day for fishing.” Marcus ruffled the boy’s hair. “Not too warm nor too cold.”

“Will you show me how to cast, Lord Yardley?” Daniel double stepped to keep up with Marcus’s long strides.

Marcus stopped suddenly and peered curiously at the boy. “Surely, you jest! You know how to bait cast!”

Daniel had paused along with Yardley. “No, Sir. I have seen my father do so, but overhead branches are all I seem to catch.”

Marcus smiled, genuinely feeling the pleasure of being young and green again. “Then we need to correct the situation immediately. You must learn to cast over hand.” Daniel returned the smile. “We may find no fish today, but we will master your casting skills. It will likely take an hour or so to correct your technique. Are you up to it, Boy?”

“Yes, Your Lordship.” Daniel straightened his shoulders to stand taller.

Marcus pointed to the nearby lake. “Then let us begin.” They found a semi-shady spot along the bank, but with few low hanging branches, which might cause the boy trouble. Marcus set the bait. “Now, you must not become frustrated if you are not successful immediately. I was serious about an hour or two of practice. However, when you master the technique, you will be able to place the bait exactly where you want it. Put it right in the fish’s mouth if you like.” He winked at Daniel. “All right, let me see your grip. Take the rod.”

Daniel picked up the pole and assumed his normal grip on the rod.

Marcus chuckled. He had recently attempted to teach Trevor the different grips, but his brother preferred to splash the water and create ripples. “I detect part of your problem. You allow the rod to control you rather than your mastering the hold.” He started maneuvering Daniel’s fingers to adjust the boy’s grasp. “Have you ever held a tennis paddle, Daniel?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then we are going to use that hold on this rod.” Again, he adjusted Daniel’s fingers. “We will place your thumb and index finger in this V,” he said as he demonstrated with his own pole. “That V should be dead center. See.” He held out his hand so Daniel could observe the proper clasp.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Remember: The grip must be relaxed, or the rod will end up on the ground.” Marcus easily cast his line some twenty feet away.

Daniel mimicked Marcus’s movements, but his line barely went five feet forward. The boy frowned and then looked to Marcus for assistance.

Marcus retrieved the line and set the boy’s hand in the proper position. “You locked your wrist when you brought the rod back,” he explained. “That forced you to use more power than you needed. Try again and relax your hold.”

Daniel took a deep breath and tossed the line again. The action was smoother, but still not accurate.

“You are going to learn to hate this word, Boy, but do it again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Could we drop the Sir, Daniel? Sonali calls me Uncle Marcus. Would you mind addressing me as such? Or you may just say Marcus if the uncle part makes you uncomfortable.”

Daniel thought about it but for a split second. “I would be honored, Uncle Marcus.”

Marcus sat down on the bank. “Again.”

“I already do not like the word.” Daniel brought the line back in and reset it before casting once more.

Cashé and Sonali had taken a picnic basket from the kitchen. “Where shall we go?” Cashé asked as she lifted the box.

“The lake,” Sonali responded without hesitation.

“And why the lake?” Cashé inquired as she followed the child skipping along before her.

Sonali turned in place, letting her skirt tail spin about her legs. “There are flowers, and we can play princess.”

Cashé rolled her eyes. Sonali resembled Velvet in her appearance and in her belief in fairy tales. Maybe her sister’s family would blend after all. “There are no knights or dragons,” Cashé stressed her practicality.

“We do not need knights,” the girl declared. “My new mama and I beat the bad men too. My papa helped mama, and Uncle James saved me; but Mama and I were both brave, just like Scheherazade.”

The child was so sure of what she said that despite being skeptical, Cashé had to agree. “Then we shall be princesses,” she conceded. “We shall make flower wreaths for our hair and our wrists.” Happy to have her way, Sonali ran ahead, humming a tune Cashé had sung as a child. “Did my sister teach you that song?” she asked as she caught up to the child.

“My new mama and I danced for papa, and Mama sang this song.” She hummed again. “Mama gave me some blue silk, and we wrapped it around us, just as Scheherazade did.”

Cashé’s eyebrow rose in surprise. “My sister danced in blue silk for His Grace?”

“Yes,” Sonali declared. “Then Papa read us a story of Sinibad.”

Cashé said no more. At first, the thought of Velvet dancing like a harem girl for Fowler scandalized her, but then as she thought about it, she envied her eldest sister’s freedom. Cashé had never experienced scandal. Even when Viscount Lexford had escorted her through the crowd at Vauxhall Gardens, she had maintained her principles and her propriety. She had enjoyed seeing the waterfall and the crowds, but scandalous behavior never crossed her mind. Now, as they walked along the smooth pathway, the image of dancing–swaying her hips provocatively before a man–sprang vividly before her inner eye. Then she and Sonali came around a bend in the road, and the man from her musings stood before her. Without thinking, Cashé blushed and then blustered, “Your...Your Lordship.”

Marcus looked up at the sound of her voice. She was the last person he had hoped to encounter today, but his breeding took control of his actions, and he offered Cashé a curt bow. “Miss Cashémere. Miss Fowler.”

Sonali giggled. “Uncle Marcus, you know my name.”

“Actually, Pumpkin, Miss Fowler is your proper name.” He caught the girl in his arms and lifted her to him. “Your Papa has told you that before. I have heard His Grace do so.”

“Do I have to be Miss Fowler, Uncle Marcus?” Her forehead crunched in a frown.

“As your Aunt Ella is now Lady Worthing, you are the next female in the family to carry that title. It is how Queen Charlotte would address you if she should make your acquaintance.” He chucked the girl’s chin with his knuckle. “Good manners never go out of style. It will be appropriate for your family and friends to speak of you as Sonali, but it is important for you to also practice the proper form so you will not forget to respond when someone speaks to you. Do you understand, Sweetling?”

“Yes, Uncle Marcus.”

“And what would you call me if others, not our friends, were present?” he prompted.

Sonali smiled largely. “Your Lordship.”

Marcus held her gaze. “Or?”

“Lord Yardley.”

“Perfect.” He kissed Sonali’s cheek and placed her on her feet. Marcus turned to Cashé. “What brings you ladies out today?”

Cashé pushed the last visages of her dance away. “Miss Fowler and I are taking a picnic in that field of clover.” She pointed to a nearby slope.

The earl’s eyes followed her gaze. “And what will you do in a clover field?”

Cashé actually anticipated his tease. “What every fine lady does?” she mocked. “We are making floral wreaths for our heads.” She took Sonali’s hand. “We may even abandon propriety and dance among the forget-me-nots.”

Marcus had expected a caustic remark, but Miss Cashé’s response had caught him totally off guard. “Dance with...wild abandon,” he stammered, and a picture of a happy Cashémere Aldridge materialized before his eyes.

“Yes, Uncle Marcus,” Sonali answered as both Cashé and Marcus looked away to hide their true thoughts.

Cashé found her voice first. “Would you and Daniel care to join us, Your Lordship? I am certain there is more than enough for everyone in the basket.” She lifted the box to verify her words.

Lord Yardley looked to Daniel for agreement. When the boy nodded his head, the earl reached for the box. “May I carry this for you, Miss Cashé?”

“Thank you, Lord Yardley.”

Silently, they walked to the slope. Behind them, Daniel and Sonali laughed and teased each other about what cook might have packed in the box. Marcus found a clear area and spread the blanket Sonali handed him and then placed the basket in the center.

“Sonali,” Cashé ordered, “why do you not pick some clover while I lay out the food?”

The girl turned immediately toward the white-topped flowers leading to the lake. Marcus addressed the boy, “Daniel, make certain she does not slip and fall in the tarn.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Marcus took the cheese and knife Cashé handed him and began slicing the wedge. “Thank you for sharing your feast,” he said without looking up.

She murmured, “You are welcome, Lord Yardley.” They purposely did not make eye contact.

“The boy and I planned to fish, but I am spending my time teaching him how to cast overhand.”

“You sound disappointed,” she remarked, finally looking at him.

“No. No. Not at all. I enjoy the boy. I have my brother Trevor at home. The innocence of childhood is refreshing, especially after all the war and devastation I have experienced over the past few years.” Marcus looked off as if seeing something she could not. “Trevor keeps me humble.”

Cashé did not respond; his words genuinely had surprised her. At first, she had thought the earl as a gruff, obstinate aristocrat. A man who was relentless in his disdain for his fellow man. Of late, her opinions had softened as she found herself needing his approval. Now, he presented a totally different picture. He had taken the time to teach Lord Worthing’s son how to cast a fishing line. Would he make a good father? The thought both scared and delighted her.

“Is that enough?” Sonali asked as she laid several handfuls of clover in Cashé’s lap. Daniel brought another stack of white-headed stems in his hat.

Cashé gratefully accepted the boy’s offering. “I believe we shall persevere,” she teased. “Let us have something to eat first.” She motioned for the children to find a seat on the blanket. Cashé fixed Daniel and Sonali a plate containing fruit, cheese, dark bread, and cold pork.

Marcus had watched her closely. When she had given each child a generous portion, he had approved. He believed growing children should eat heartily at each meal. Cashé had handed him an empty plate so he might serve himself. Marcus chose bread and cheese, leaving her the last of the cold meat, along with a small portion of each of the other items. “Are you certain, Your Lordship?” she asked when he shoved the plates in her direction.

“Miss Cashé, you must understand that I am not the type of man who could take food from women and children.” Marcus actually blushed with his admittance.

The girl’s eyebrow rose. She stammered, “I...I...could never conceive that you would be, Your Lordship.” She paused, brushing the hair from her face, tucking one loose strand behind her ear. “Might we split what he have equally?” she murmured.

Marcus watched her movements, thinking he might like to be the one who assisted her with that errant curl. The thought shocked him. Cashémere Aldridge was definitely not a choice he would make. He supposed that it came from his attraction to her twin. Realizing he had not responded, he purposely smiled before saying, “That is most diplomatic, Miss Cashé.”

“I have my moments of diplomacy, Lord Yardley,” she mocked.

“I am happy to see you more carefree, Miss Cashé. You have been under a terrible strain of late. I would not have you suffer in any way.” Marcus could not explain why he had expressed such sentiments; yet, it seemed important to say them aloud. He truly would not have the girl know any more anguish in her life.

His avows had taken her unawares. She had thought to chastise him for making assumptions about her life, but now, she could not consider such an action. The earl always appeared to dislike her, but he had spoken of sincere concern, and Cashé had felt a warmth peak the nipples of her breasts. It was not a sensation with which she was familiar, and, in a moment of panic, she glanced down to view the phenomenon before flushing thoroughly.

Marcus noticed her skin’s pinking and her downward glance, and his eyes naturally followed hers. However, he had never expected what his eyes beheld. The girl’s apparent embarrassment colored her skin; yet, something more occurred. Her corset raised her rounded breasts to tempting swells above her dress line, but, more importantly, the corset lifted her breasts where the nipple might be seen behind the thin muslin. The buds hardened, indicating her sexual desire, and Marcus’s groin reacted to that knowledge. Blood rushed to his erection, and he could not resist licking his lips as he considered the pleasure of tasting her.