Read Realm 02 - A Touch of Velvet for Free Online

John, but the man did not appear at the manor house. Eventually, word came that Sir John had gone on a drunken binge, before being found by his manservant, lying face down in his own vomit. The man, evidently, had felt some regret for his actions, according to the servant gossip line. Yet, Bran suspected Sir John only regretted two things: his perversion being common knowledge and his lost property. For Bran knew implicitly Sir John felt nothing for Daisy Hollander; in Sir John’s mind, Daisy belonged to him; he had bought her the same as he would a horse. He had paid for her services, and Sir John would take Daisy’s defection personally.
    *
    “I return to Thorn Hall tomorrow,” Eleanor disclosed later that evening as they partook of the meal’s last course.
    The heated discussion from earlier in the day still rang between them. “Sonali will be sorry to lose her Aunt Ella.” Bran put down his wine glass and sat back into the cushioned chair.
    “And you, Bran?” As she did their entire life, Eleanor challenged him to speak the truth.
    Despite any lingering qualms over their earlier conflict, Bran smiled when his sister’s chin rose in defiance. “I recall so fondly that same look right before you dared to jump from the ledge overlooking the west orchard.”
    “I should never have permitted you to provoke me into doing so.”
    He taunted, “Father caned me proper for not supervising my little sister.”
    “I broke my arm,” she accused.
    Bran took real pleasure in the remembrance of a young Eleanor. “You were so adventurous, Ella. No one could break your spirit.”
    “I would not say no one .” Bran watched as Ella’s countenance displayed a moment of pure pain. Automatically though, she withdrew. She had said too much, and, instinctively, her hand had come to her cheek to secret away her emotions.
    Surprised by the shift in her tone, Bran’s attention became uneasy. “What is it, Ella? Did someone hurt you? An unrequited love? Tell me who offered you an offense, and I will see to him. Even as Brantley Fowler, I am not without influence.”
    “No...no, Bran, nothing of the sort. My pain is at my own hands. I suppose I am only feeling the necessity of seeing Thorn Hall settled.”
    “What if I bought a house for you and Velvet?” He blurted out suddenly. “Not as grand as Thorn Hall, but large enough to meet your needs. It would be yours, Ella; I would deed it to you. Or better, yet, you two come and stay with Sonali and me. I would love that, and you know it would make my daughter very happy.”
    Ella reached for his hand, a lingering offense still evident. “I cannot, Bran. You know that. If Velvet and I were to leave, the news of your return would be evident, and the courts would thrust the dukedom on you. As you wish to protect me, I would see you protected also. Even if you refused the title, it would by law still be yours; then Thornhill would crumble into oblivion. I cannot bear to see that happen if there is any way to stop it.”
    Warily, Bran squeezed her hand. “I am not certain I can return to Thorn Hall; the remorse–the insufferable tyranny–is all I recall. I doubt the nightmares can be so easily assuaged.”
    “Thorn Hall knew its greatness too, Bran. Our father can no longer touch it. His hand cannot reach us from the grave.”
    “Can it not, Ella?” Bran looked scornful. “Every act–everything I have ever done–everything I do is to spite the former Duke of Thornhill.”
    “Then do one more–come home, Bran,” she whispered.
     
    The next morning, Bran handed her into the carriage displaying the ducal seal. They spoke no more of what she had asked. Ella realized her brother must return home to fight his own ghosts. God only knew she had battled invisible demons every day at Thorn Hall, but Eleanor disavowed everything else in her life besides saving the home her mother had created. If Bran did not claim the title, she would find another way. She had sold her soul to the