Realm 03 - A Touch of Cashemere (18 page)

“You gave her Maggie’s lace,” he chastised his actions aloud, but despite the words, Marcus felt no regret at having done so. He had never expected that something would feel so right. He had cut the lace from the hem of the dress in which they had buried Maggie. At the time, Myles had criticized the impulsive act, but Marcus’s mother had told her second son to allow Marcus his grief. And that lace had been with him every day since Maggie’s funeral–every day, until today. Today, he had entrusted it to Cashé Aldridge. Would the girl understand how the delicate yellow threads were his connection to his sister? Would Cashé treasure it as he did?

*

“What do ye mean? She be gone?” Lachlan Charters demanded. He had shoved Samuel Aldridge against the drawing room’s wall.

Aldridge attempted to smile and to loosen the man’s grip from his neck. “Not...not gone,” he croaked, lodging his fingers around his attacker’s and sucking in air. The viscount pulled at his cravat and straightened his waistcoat as Charters took a backward step. “Cashémere is visiting her sister and her maternal uncle. That is all.”

“I be hearin’ that ye allowed the older one to marry her English duke. I thought ye be against their joining.” Charters fisted and unfisted his hands in a constant threat.

Aldridge smiled purposely as he edged away from the wall. “My niece had her heart set on being a duchess. Plus, the connection is a good one for my family.” Averette spoke with a false bravado. “I escorted Velvet to Derby, where she and Thornhill chose to speak their vows before family and friends. Thornhill’s sister is with child, and the future earl would not permit his wife to travel.” He turned the truth to his own devices.

“And ye be leavin’ Miss Cashémere behind?” The big man circled the desk to threaten Averette again. “The girl belongs to me. I paid ye, Averette. Paid ye a tidy sum to be making the girl me wife. What if Cashémere be choosin’ that fancy viscount she be keepin’ company while in England? That would be makin’ me most unhappy.”

“I assure you, Charters, that my niece will have nothing to do with Viscount Lexford. She is a good girl and knows the punishment for going against my moral lessons. In fact, I expect Cashé to convert others to our ways.” Averette actually believed much of this speech. He had no doubt about his influence on his ward. “It is best to give Cashémere some freedom before she weds. She will make you a better subject then.” Averette poured himself a glass of claret and took a sip.

“Then we be lettin’ the girl taste her freedom with the baron and her younger sister, but I warn ye, Averette, that I give the girl three months. After that, I be not responsible for what happens. I mean to have Cashémere or me money–you must decide.” Charters stormed from the room, leaving the door rattling in his wake.

Aldridge sank into his chair before taking a deep drink of his wine. He had made it a habit to drink only in the privacy of his home. “There must be a way without Morton’s interference,” he murmured. “I must find an ally to bring Cashé home.”

*

“What do you think of Viscount Lexford?” Cashé asked as she shared tea with her twin in one of Linton Park’s smaller drawing rooms. Lord Yardley had departed eight hours prior. Cashé knew how long he had been gone because her eyes involuntarily traveled to the ormolu clock on the mantel. They had done so repeatedly since her early morning farewell. Predictably, the baron had announced that they would retire to Chesterfield Manor tomorrow, and Cashé anxiously had put her plan to rid herself of Aidan Kimbolt’s attentions in place.

Satiné looked up suspiciously. “Does it matter what I think of the gentleman? He seems to find you irresistible. The question might be more appropriate if directed to you. What is your opinion of Viscount Lexford?”

Cashé did not respond immediately. She had concocted a plan of which she had hoped her sister might partake. Since becoming aware of her growing need for Lord Yardley’s approval, Cashé had carefully observed Satiné’s interactions with both Yardley and Lexford, and she had thought Satiné held a preference for one and not the other. Cashé elongated the pause as part of her scheme. “I suppose the viscount will call often at Chesterfield Manor.”

“It is very close to Lexington Arms,” her sister noted.

“The viscount is very handsome.”

Cashé watched closely for her sister’s reaction and found it satisfying to hear Satiné stifle the sigh that slipped from her lips. “Indubitably–he is extremely attractive.”

Again, Cashé waited, increasing her sister’s interest. “As is the earl.”

Satiné smiled obligingly. “Yes, the earl is a striking man.”

Cashé’s voice automatically softened to a breathy whisper. “Dark penetrating eyes–strong aristocratic nose–ruggedly handsome face–wide shoulders.”

Thankfully, Satiné had taken the bait. Both her tone and her stare betrayed her puzzlement. “I had not noticed His Lordship’s eyes.” She stammered, “I mean…I have looked at his eyes, but never found depth there.”

“Lord Yardley’s eyes speak of his soul,” Cashé protested. “When he is angry or when he is pleased or when he is frustrated.” Images of the earl’s eyes dazed with desire sprang to her mind, and Cashé felt her breasts swell in response.

Satiné leaned forward, pressing her own opinions. “But they cannot compete with the viscount’s coffee brown ones–nor does his appearance–the way Lexford’s sandy blonde hair falls over his forehead, teasingly blocking his vision, as if he is looking at you through a screen.”

Cashé stared at Satiné, totally contented with how her sister had disclosed what Cashé had secretly observed. She spoke the truth when she admitted, “I find his constant battle with his hair a bit distracting.”

Satiné smiled privately. “Really? I find it quite endearing.”

They sat in quiet companionship for a few brief moments, each considering the man she affected. Cashé broke the silence, “May we speak honestly?”

“Absolutely.”

“Although we are sisters of the same blood, we have not known each other. Uncle Samuel demanded a different type of obedience from what Uncle Charles did. We are the same, but we are different.” She recognized the moment that Satiné understood and acknowledged the truth of Cashé’s thoughts with a tilt of her head. Encouraged, Cashé continued, “I have had a longer acquaintance with Viscount Lexford, and I find him quite agreeable company, but he does not stir my soul.”

“And the earl does?” Satiné’s countenance held a bit of mischief.

Cashé’s turmoil–the feelings exploding every time she thought of Marcus Wellston–rolled on. What the Averettes had taught her was in stark contrast to what she had felt when the earl came near her. “I often despise the man, and I am likewise certain he cannot tolerate me, but I admit I cannot remove my eyes from him.” She turned to her sister. “I acknowledge needing Lord Yardley’s approval, and I believe you feel the same about the viscount.”

Satiné bit back a laugh. “I might.”

“Then what shall we do about it? How do we convince Lexford and Yardley that they affect the wrong twin?” Cashé realized Yardley would require less persuasion than the viscount. She moved to sit beside Satiné.

“Can they tell us apart?” Satiné began, hatching her own plan. “Mama and Papa never could. When anyone first meets us, he searches our countenances for the differences, but finds none.” They both paused in contemplation of the possibilities. “The differences, at the moment, lie in our experiences. I suppose I could become a bit more outspoken and you a bit more conservative.”

Cashé caught her sister’s hand. “We could teach each other about our respective lives.”

“That means total honesty between us,” Satiné cautioned. “Are you prepared to do so, Cashémere?”

Cashé answered quickly. “I suspect the differences are quite striking. You may be more astonished than I. Although I am curious about some of the lessons you have already mastered in preparation for your Come Out.” Satiné nodded her head in agreement, but Cashé noticed her sister’s raised brow, indicating that she might change her mind. “We shall see neither man,” Cashé continued quickly, trying to squash any qualms Satiné held, “for some time once we return to Uncle Charles’s estate. We could teach each other–become different women, sharing a common experience. If Lord Yardley wishes more of your ladylike softness, Cashé will adopt those qualities.”

“And if Viscount Lexford prefers Cashé’s obstinacy, I can learn to be more like Cashé,” Satiné insisted.

“Then we are in accord?”

Satiné spontaneously hugged her. “We have more than concurrence; we have a compact for love.”

“With a touch of Cashémere.”

“And one of Satiné.”

Cashé giggled, “I was considering how we might begin. I thought we should start with discussion sessions and then look at our clothing choices, before, finally, executing the occasional switch on Uncle Charles or the servants. Eventually, we shall fool Lord Lexford.”

“If we can fool Uncle Charles, that shall be the true test.” Caught up in her sister’s excitement, Satiné giggled also.

*

“When did the viscount return?” Murhad Jamot sat in a small inn situated on Edinburgh’s outskirts. He hated the country’s dampness, but the area’s rough terrain along the English border had provided him with several places where he could hide and re-evaluate his efforts after the failure of his last encounter with the Realm.

“The county be back near on a month now,” said the groomsman with whom Jamot had made friends over a shared drink and some cut powder to which Jamot had connections. The Baloch had followed Mir’s orders, but he had seen no reason he could not profit from a side venture in opium while he spent time searching the British countryside for Mir’s emerald. “A man has to eat,” he had told himself on more than one occasion.

Jamot took a sip of his drink. The ale did not sit well with his constitution, but he feigned contentment. “And neither girl returned with the man? That seems odd.” Jamot had taken time to reflect interest but not an obsession with the man’s story.

“It all be most suspicious. For months old Averette be crowin’ ‘bout marryin’ off them sisters to Charters and ‘nother man he chooses. Then neither returns.” The man swayed in place. The weakened drug and weaker ale having an effect on him. “Charters put the hurt on the county on Tuesday last. Jemmy be sayin’ Charters told Averette that he paid good money for the younger girl, and he wanted her back.”

Jamot had heard all he needed for the time being. He no longer suspected either Kerrington or Fowler had Mir’s emerald, but he did believe they knew of its whereabouts. Now, he had the names of those he could approach to assist him with the next suspects on his list. “Think I will find my bed,” he slapped the groomsman on the back and turned toward the exit. “I will find you again soon, Friend.” However, Jamot thought the groomsman had served his purpose.

*

“Uncle, it is terrible what the Averettes have done to Cashémere in the name of love,” Satiné sobbed. She and the baron had ridden out together on the pretense of visiting several of the tenants, but they had shared a secluded outcropping less than a mile from the main house. Satiné had asked the only parent she could remember to accompany her for she required someone with whom to share the confidence. They had returned to Chesterfield Manor a week prior, and as they had agreed, she and Cashé had begun to teach each other about their respective lives. Satiné did not explain to their uncle what precipitated these sharing sessions, but of what her sister had spoken she had felt compelled to tell in the baron.

Ashton’s body stiffened, and she recognized the anger coursing through him. “Tell me what your sister has confided. Before I can protect Cashémere, I must know it all.”

“I am ashamed to say that I would have crumbled long ago,” Satiné declared. “The Averettes have an unusual lifestyle. In some ways, they practice what we think of as Society–arranged marriages, men’s supremacy, and rules of propriety. Yet, there are extremes also.” Satiné hiccupped as she swallowed her sobs. “The worst part is Cashé believes much of what the viscount does is acceptable. My sister does not question Lord Averette’s authority.”

“I understand.” The baron placed his arm around the girl’s shoulders. “It must be difficult on a young woman of your station, but it is important, Satiné, that you tell me everything just as Cashé has explained it to you.”

“Our grandmother,” she began with a deep inhalation, “required Cashé to spend hours on her knees in meditation whenever she misbehaved as a child. Once, my sister had torn and muddied her dress, and our grandmother locked Cashé in a broom closet for a whole day without food and with only a chamber pot in the space. Another time, Cashé forgot to do her chores, and Uncle Samuel placed her on her knees before a room full of guests and forced her to read the book of Exodus aloud. She was not permitted to stand until she had read the entire Biblical passage. Cashé was eight at the time.”

Ashton bit back his reaction. “What else?”

“None of the women are permitted opinions nor are they given privileges within the church. Such contradictions are difficult to accept. Although parties are condemned as evil, Uncle Samuel allowed His Grace to escort the Aldridges about London recently.”

The baron spoke through gritted teeth. “I suspect Aldridge uses his religion as an excuse for avoiding what he does not wish to do. It is his mantle–something he brings out when convenient.”

“Cashémere brags of the good deeds the church accomplishes. My sister speaks of the schools established for the poorer children, and you are aware of what she says regarding the church’s protection of the needy families; yet, when she speaks of the power of both the parochial elder and of the deacon, I fear something is amiss.”

“Your fear is well placed,” Ashton warned. “Satiné, you must continue to encourage Cashémere to entrust you with her memories, and then you must make me aware of each experience your sister shares–no matter how insignificant that memory may seem.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Now, my Sweet, share with me the rest of what you know, and then we should return to the estate. You must promise me that you will not tell Cashémere of our discussion. Your sister must not know you turned to me for comfort.”