The Scandal of Lady Eleanor (48 page)

The door opened ever so slightly. “Fowler?” Kerrington looked disheveled and a bit angry.

“I need your help.” Bran ignored what he had probably interrupted.

Kerrington nodded and eased the door closed. Bran paced the short distance of this private quarter debating whether to hit the door again when it suddenly opened. Bran plowed into the middle of the room before he realized Kerrington wore only his breeches, and worse, Ella wore a nightgown and robe in the middle of the day. Seeing his sister in what was obviously an intimate moment took his breath away, and he froze, just staring at her.

“Ella?” he rasped.

“Yes, Bran.” She looked amused by his reaction, but still she flushed with color.

Bran stammered, “I…I did not think.”

“Sit down, Fowler,” Kerrington ordered from somewhere behind him as the viscount slipped a shirt over his head.

The familiarity of his friend's voice brought him to his mission. A shake of his head cleared his thinking. “Velvet is in trouble.” He turned his back on his sister, not wishing to picture her in Kerrington's bed.

“How so?” Worthing took Bran by the arm and led him to a nearby chaise.

“I received a note from Shepherd yesterday morning. The Home Office intercepted information regarding a plan by Murhad Jamot to take Velvet as a bargain for the emerald. Shepherd sent Wellston to Scotland because the Earl was in Northumberland and the closest to Edinburgh.” He ran his hands through his hair as he gathered his thoughts. “Yet, Berwick did not reach the Averettes' home in time. By the time of his arrival, Velvet was missing. Viscount Averette thinks that his niece ran off to meet me somewhere, and he gives pursuit, working his way toward Thornhill; but Miss Cashé thinks otherwise. She claims that she and Velvet saw a man—a dark-skinned man—lurking around the estate on and off for the past week. Plus, because I have never answered one of Velvet's letters,
she assumes I have chosen Lucinda Warren instead. Velvet told Cashé I forgot her quickly.”

“How long ago?” Kerrington asked as he dressed.

“The original information was dated nearly a week ago. Shepherd sent word that Jamot expects a ship at Liverpool next weekend. I have five days to find her.”

“Will the man hurt Velvet?” Ella now stood beside her husband.

“I do not know. I have no idea where to look—who to ask for help.” Bran dropped his head in defeat. “But I have to do something.”

Kerrington touched his shoulder. “Get out of here, and let Ella and me dress. We will meet you downstairs in a few minutes. Lexford is here—just arrived today; he and Daniel are out riding. Lexford is from Cheshire; he can help us with Liverpool.”

Bran's head snapped up. “Thank God.” Ready to take action, he stood immediately. “May I send someone out to find the Viscount and your son?”

“Certainly.” Kerrington edged Bran to the door. “We will meet you in the library in a few minutes.” As they reached the open portal, Kerrington took Bran by both shoulders. “We will find Miss Aldridge, Fowler. You will know what I know with Eleanor. You will have the same kind of happiness.”

Bran glanced at his sister standing quietly behind James Kerrington. “Ella, you look quite beautiful,” he stated.

“Most women with child do,” Worthing whispered close to Bran's ear.

Bran looked at his friend in disbelief. “I am to be an uncle?”

“Yes, Bran,” Ella uttered the words. “We have just told the Earl and Lady Linworth. When Daniel returns, we plan to tell him.”

“Oh, Ella,” he rushed past Kerrington to catch his sister in his embrace. “Even in all this madness, you have given me hope. I do so love you.” He clasped her to him.

She held Bran tightly, needing to know his love. “Now, go!” she finally ordered, tears streaming down her face. “We need to find the woman you love.”

Bran walked to the doorway as Eleanor rushed into her husband's arms. “Take care of him.” Bran heard her plead as Kerrington closed the door.

“I always have,” came the reply.

She did not know how long they had traveled; she guessed six days, but as he had kept her drugged, she could have easily lost count. Not sure where he took her,Velvet fought for some sense of what had happened. She remembered confronting the man for being on her uncle's property; she remembered the struggle when he grabbed her—but little else since then.

Rocking back and forth on the seat of the carriage, she kept her eyes closed, not wishing him to know the drug no longer coursed through her veins. For the past two nights, she had slept in the carriage—locked in, gagged, and bound, unable to even move and with no way to signal for help. Her captor had slept in an inn. She knew it to be an inn because she had recognized the sounds of the comings and goings of the other carriages and of the stable hands as they handled the horses. Other than the driver, she did not think anyone else accompanied them on this journey.

At the moment, she regretted that confrontation in her uncle's orchard, but in reality, Velvet knew he would have taken her eventually. He, obviously, targeted her for his own reasons, reasons she suspected had something to do with Bran and with the earlier attacks on her and Ella. Although if her captor thought Bran would come for her, he was sadly mistaken. Three months ago, she had left London for Scotland. Her Uncle Samuel had demanded that she leave Briar House and Bran behind, and she had foolishly acquiesced. Velvet thought she did it for Ella and for Bran, but she now realized that she had done it for herself. She had wanted Bran to prove his love, literally, to come for her—to be her prince—her knight in shining armor.Yet, he had not come—had not even answered her letters. Instead, Brantley Fowler had abandoned her
to the attentions of some Scottish border lairds, too crude for her sensibilities—men who openly spoke of bedding her. Now, all for which she could hope was that her uncle might seek her release. However, Velvet expected she would have to design her own rescue. She would have to be Joan of Arc, Elizabeth I, and Scheherazade all rolled into one—a fighter, a strategist, and a conspirator combined.

“Open your eyes, Miss Aldridge.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

MY DEEPEST GRATITUDE goes to the many people at Ulysses Press who took a chance on a public classroom teacher and gave her one of the best experiences of her life. Thank you for taking another risk with me by moving into the Historical Romance genre.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

REGINA JEFFERS, an English teacher for thirty-nine years, considers herself a Jane Austen enthusiast. She is the author of several novels, including
The Phantom of Pemberley
,
Darcy's Passsions
,
Darcy's Temptation
,
Captain Wentworth's Persuasion,
and
Vampire Darcy's Desire
. A Time Warner Star Teacher and Martha Holden Jennings Scholar, Jeffers often serves as a consultant in language arts and media literacy. Currently living outside Charlotte, North Carolina, she spends her time with her writing.

Copyright © Regina Jeffers 2011 All rights reserved. No part of this

publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

 

Published in the United States by
Ulysses Press
P.O. Box 3440
Berkeley, CA 94703
www.ulyssespress.com

 

eISBN : 978-1-569-75966-0

Library of Congress Catalog Number 2011921431

 

 

 

 

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