Realm 03 - A Touch of Cashemere (32 page)

She nearly made it to the stairs before the first man, cursing every foul word he knew and cradling his private parts, overtook her, catching Cashé’s plait and jerking her physically backwards by her hair. “Move, Bitch, and I will slit your throat,” he growled. He plastered her body to the wall with his and theatrically threatened her with a long knife.

Cashé’s heart pounded with dread, but she defiantly raised her chin and looked the man squarely in the eye. “Then you will have to kill me,” she declared. “Are you man enough to kill an innocent woman in cold blood?”

“You Bloody Bitch!” he growled.

His moment hesitation was Cashé’s invitation to scream, and scream, she did–loud and long–at the top of her lungs.

Somewhere over the roar of her own vocal caterwaul, she heard her attacker’s partner say, “Come, Jordan, she is not worth it.” Cashé’s assailant suddenly released her, but she did not stop her shrieks of alarm. The two intruders ran toward the back of the inn as an onslaught of rescuers scrambled up the stairs toward her. Seeing them, Cashé ceased her cries.

“What goes on here?” the innkeeper demanded, assuming a single female without a chaperone brought only trouble.

“Two men broke into my room,” Cashé accused, pointing in the direction her assailants had fled.

The innkeeper loomed over her. “Are ye sure you did not invite them in and then changed yer mind?” Those who followed the man to her calls snickered.

Cashé flushed, but she refused to allow anyone to lord over her. “How dare you?” she charged, but before she could continue, a rustling of bodies on the stairs caught her attention, and Cashé turned to see a familiar face coming towards her. “Mr. Breeson!” she exclaimed.

Richard purposely bowed low, indicating his deference to her position. “Miss Aldridge.” He glanced quickly at those standing about, stepping purposely before Cashé to block others’ views of her disheveled appearance. “I know this lady.” He eyed the innkeeper disdainfully. “If she claims an attack in this establishment, as a proper businessman, I suggest that you contact the authorities.”

“Why does she have no attendant if she be a lady?” the innkeeper charged.

“Miss Aldridge was to travel to Berwick to meet her intended’s family; I was sent to escort her north, but I did not expect her arrival until tomorrow.” Breeson, obviously, enjoyed the tale he wove. “If the lady is without a companion, it must be for a good reason.”

Cashé lightly touched Breeson’s back, silently accepting his protection.

“Who be her affianced?” The innkeeper tried once more to prove his point.

Breeson did not blink from the intended insult. “My master, the Earl of Berwick.” A buzz of recognition spread among the onlookers. “And if you know His Lordship, you realize that he will not look kindly on your slighting the woman he intends to marry.”

The innkeeper cleared his throat. “Anyone know who might be to blame?”

“The two young men sitting behind me in the open room spoke of a girl, but I had no idea they spoke of Baron Ashton’s niece.” Breeson seemed to enjoy interjecting names of the peerage into the conversation. “Ask Meddy. They spoke of her also.”

Everyone turned to the bar maid, who was hanging on the arm of a hulking-looking farmer. “It be Jordan and Shayne.”

“Those two be more trouble than they be worth,” one of the locals observed.

The innkeeper herded everyone except Cashé and Breeson toward the common room. “I will send someone for the magistrate.”

Cashé groaned her disapproval, but she voiced no objections.

“I suspect you might wish to dress, Miss Aldridge,” Breeson whispered as he led her to her room. “I will stand guard outside so no one disturbs you. When you finish, we should talk before the local law arrives.”

“Thank you, Mr. Breeson,” she said softly before entering her room and closing the door. “Well, so much for not permitting anyone to know I am traveling alone to Scotland.” Cashé sighed deeply. “I will just have to see it through.”

Some twenty minutes later, she and Mr. Breeson sat at the table in her rented room–the door propped open for propriety. “I will see you to Tweed Hall,” Breeson stated the obvious.

Biting back her frustration, Cashé rolled her eyes. “I did not wish to involve His Lordship in my family’s trouble.” She had not disclosed the real reason for her solitary journey. She had simply said that Baron Ashton had been called away to London and that she had received word of her immediate presence needed in Leith.

“Despite your qualms, Miss Aldridge, the earl would take the skin from my hide if I allowed you to continue this journey alone. Tonight was typical of the dangers for a woman traveling unaccompanied.”

Cashé sighed a groan. As much as she wanted to see Marcus again, she knew she could not give herself to Charters if Wellston took over her mission. And Cashé had no doubt that the earl would take it on even without their relationship. “What do I do now?” she asked herself.

*

With Breeson’s suggestion, the local magistrate ordered the two offending youths to serve as stable hands on the earl’s estate for three weeks. They would work under Breeson’s direction. Cashé was not convinced that the punishment fit the crime, but Breeson privately assured her that any punishment more than a verbal reprimand was a victory. Mr. Jordan was the son of Sir William Jordan, who had been knighted for his handling of a smuggling ring, while Mr. Shayne was the son of the local baronet, Sir Gavin. Although neither family possessed peerage titles, they still held local prestige. Breeson had secured the baronet’s agreement that his son would be treated with a dose of humility for the baronet was at the end of his rope in disciplining the youth. Sir William was less enthusiastic, but he acquiesced to the others. Both young men were to report to Tweed Hall in one week’s time or face charges for their attempted assault.

Breeson rented a curricle, the only available vehicle, and placed Cashé in it. It would be a long, cold ride, but he could not allow Miss Aldridge out of his sight until he had delivered her to Wellston.

*

Eleanor’s heart did a complete somersault. “I am Eleanor Kerrington, Lady Worthing.” Her voice encouraged his memory.

“You…you are married to Worthing? When did that occur?” Lexford purposely slid his gaze over her obviously pregnant form. “Where is the captain? I would see him now.”

Eleanor’s face held her dismay. “You remember nothing of what has happened?”

“I remember returning home from the East with Kerrington and Wellston.” Lexford’s anxiousness grew by the moment. “What else should I know?”

Eleanor softened her expression. “Allow we to freshen the water so I might tend your wound, and then I will return to tell you what I know.”

Lexford nodded his agreement and released her wrist. His eyes followed the woman about the room. He could not imagine that Kerrington would choose this woman. She was too tall–too regal–too blonde for his friend’s tastes. He might think his former captain had seduced the lady and had brought her to child, and that resorted in a speedy marriage in Gretna Green. Yet, that was impossible for they had been in England for less than a month.

When the woman returned to his bedside, she had placed a new compress on his head and then took up his hand in her two. Capturing his gaze, she said, “As I said, I am Eleanor Kerrington, but before I married Viscount Worthing, I was Eleanor Fowler.”

“Brantley Fowler’s sister?”

She tilted her head to look at him curiously. “I am, and Bran is now the Duke of Thornhill and has married our cousin.”

“The infamous Velvet Aldridge?” he asked with a bit of a taunt.

She smiled at him. “The very one.”

*

The sound of a small carriage in the drive brought Marcus to his feet and moving toward the door. When it swung open, the night and several lanterns brought two shadowy figures. One he recognized immediately as that of Richard Breeson, but although he could not make out the countenance or even the form of the second, his heart knew her. “Cashé,” he spoke her name aloud before taking off at a run. He reached the entrance steps just as Breeson handed her from the rented curricle. As he skidded to a stop, her head turned in his direction, and everything froze in place. Marcus felt the silly grin spread across his face, but he did not care. She was here at last.

“I brought you a gift, Lord Yardley,” Breeson called from his place beside the carriage.

Marcus chuckled, “You will do anything for another pay raise, Breeson.” His eyes devoured her.

“I did not think I could top the last token.” Breeson chuckled.

Marcus took the last few steps to where she stood, a look of anticipation on her face. “You have outdone yourself, my Friend.” He raised his hand to cup her chin, lifting it to see her eyes reflected in the lantern light. He whispered only for her ears, “I did not think to ever see you at my home.” And that was all it took. Cashé launched herself into Marcus’s embrace. Sobs wracked her body, and Marcus laced his arms about her, pulling Cashé closer. “What is it, Sweetheart?” he coaxed. “Tell me, Cashé, and I will move mountains to set it right.”

Biting back another round of tears, she raised her gaze to meet his. “I have ruined everything,” she wailed. “Satiné and Lord Lexford and Uncle Charles and you and me. Everything is ruined.” Tears exploded in another round of sobs.

Marcus bent at the knees and gently scooped her into his arms. “Breeson,” he called over his shoulder. “I require an explanation.” He walked slowly up the front steps, cuddling Cashé to him. “Mr. Spear, bring tea and brandy and something to eat to my study.”

“Yes, Your Lordship.”

Cashé laced her arms about Marcus’s neck, pulling herself closer. “Do not leave me,” she rasped.

“Never, Ma Chère.” He nuzzled her neck. “Never in a million years.”

As Marcus cradled Cashé on his lap, stroking her back and arm, Breeson explained what he knew of Cashé’s attack. She had shared with his former batman how she had outmaneuvered her two young attackers, and Marcus’s friend relayed the tale as Cashé silently clung to Marcus for comfort. His heart swelled with pride when he had heard of how she outsmarted the men, and it lurched with anger at knowing what she had been through.

“Thank you, Breeson,” Marcus said softly. “I am forever in your debt for seeing to Miss Aldridge’s safety. I will trust you to administer an appropriate lesson to Mr. Jordan and Mr. Stayne. I will take some pleasure in our visitors learning how a gentleman treats a lady.”

Breeson smiled knowingly. “I thought you might.” His friend stood to take his leave. “I will leave you to your reunion, Lord Yardley.”

Marcus nodded his farewell and then shifted Cashé in his arms. “Do you feel safe enough to tell me what has happened, Sweetheart? I need to know why you were traveling alone. Where is your sister? What of Lord Lexford?” As he listened to Breeson’s tale, Marcus had tried to imagine what circumstances would have driven Cashé to take to the road alone. Had Lexford demanded her hand? Had Satiné changed her mind about the viscount? The last Marcus knew of the situation, Lexford was to call at Chesterfield Manor, and the ladies were to perform a switch to convince the viscount that he had chosen the wrong twin.

Cashé swallowed hard and started to move away from his embrace, but Marcus refused to relinquish her long enough even to sit beside him. “I do not know where to begin.” She glanced to the left and then back to his steady gaze. “Uncle Charles was summoned to London. He departed Cheshire on Wednesday, and Lord Lexford came to stay at the manor house.” Marcus listened carefully. He had known that Shepherd had requested a personal meeting with the baron.

“Satiné and I executed our switches, and His Lordship knew nothing of the change. Therefore, we decided to arrange a day for Lexford and Satiné to be alone. That was Friday.”

Marcus privately began to calculate when she must have departed Cheshire. “And?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Satiné and Lord Lexford rode out together after I returned to house. His Lordship thought Satiné was I.” She paused and took a deep breath. “When they did not return after several hours, I sent out search parties. Two groomsmen found the viscount knocked unconscious, but Satiné was not recovered.” Again, Cashé paused, but this time she caught Marcus’s hand in hers. “I had no idea what to do so I sent word to Lord Worthing.”

“Kerrington came, did he not?” Marcus traced lines across her wrist with his fingertip.

“Lord Worthing rushed to my side and took over the investigation.” Cashé looked away. “When His Lordship asked of our relationship, I confirmed our connection. I pray I have not displeased you.”

Marcus kissed the top of her head. “Kerrington had his suspicions when we were at Linton Park. It is of no consequence. The last few days have convinced me that I cannot allow you to know another–even if it means the loss of Lexford’s friendship.”

“When I departed Cheshire, His Lordship, still had not recovered.

“If Kerrington arrived, why did you feel it necessary to go to Scotland?” It hurt that Cashé had not thought to come to him. The knowledge, that if not for Breeson, he might not now hold her in his arms ate away at Marcus.

“I felt I had to make the effort to save Satiné. I am sorry, my Lord. I had no desire to hurt you, but Lord Worthing and I discovered the name of the man we suspected of kidnapping Satiné. It was Lachlan Charters. He took Satiné, thinking my sister was I. I must be to Leith to keep Mr. Charters from hurting Satiné when he discovers the truth.”

Marcus’s stomach knotted. “You will not give yourself to that man!” Now he understood her impulsive reasoning.

Tears formed. “I may have no choice.” Her bottom lip trembled.

“I will help you rescue your sister, but you belong with me, Cashémere.” He turned her chin to face him. “My life began again when Shepherd sent me to intercept Jamot. I will no longer live in the void, and neither shall you.” He knew he did not have the full story, but he would continue to ask questions until she had told him everything. Tomorrow, they would deal with her crisis. Tonight, he would see Cashé safe in his home. “Let us find you a room for this evening. You must be exhausted.”