“You stay at the palace?” his lady asked with the interest he had hoped for her agreement.
“Yes, Prince Vinzens is a close associate of several of those with whom I served during the war.” It bothered him his betrothed’s eyes glistened with curiosity in speaking of the prince, where moments earlier they remained dull when thinking upon their joining. “I will not exhaust you further,” he said more bitterly than he intended. “I will call at two tomorrow. Perhaps you will feel well enough to walk out with me.”
“I shall do my best, Sir.”
“I shall show you out, Baron,” Miss Neville said softly from behind him.
John nodded curtly to Miss Satiné. “Until tomorrow.” With that, he turned on his heels to follow his betrothed’s companion through the narrow passageway.
At the main door, the girl retrieved his hat and gloves. “I am grievous, Sir, that your hopes were dashed,” she said earnestly, and John noticed how sadness rested in her gaze. The girl would never practice the art of deceit.
Resisting the urge to punch the nearest wall, he said tersely, “My hopes are none of your concern.”
Miss Neville blushed thoroughly. “Of course, Sir. I have spoken from turn. Please forgive me.” Her gaze never faltered, however. It was the first honest moment he had experience since entering Miss Satiné’s quarters, and the knowledge twisted his gut tighter.
Silencing his own misgivings was more difficult than silencing her empathy. “It is I who should ask your forgiveness, Miss Neville. When I arrived this evening, I meant only to assure myself Miss Satiné had recovered from what I had been led to believe was a serious illness. But, I am to face a new reality–that of future bridegroom. I have much to arrange before week’s end.” Pain knotted his entrails. “You could assist me by overseeing the packing of Miss Aldridge’s belongings, as well as that of the boy’s.”
“Certainly, Sir.” She shifted fractionally closer, and John felt something unfamiliar stir within his chest. “Should I seek a letter of recommendation from Miss Aldridge or you, Sir?” she whispered.
John eyed her carefully before asking, “Do you wish me to release you from your employment? I thought we held an agreement.”
A flush of color returned to her cheeks. “I assumed…”
“Do you not wish to return to England? Have you no one who would welcome you to English shores?”
The girl’s expression spoke of an emotion John did not recognize. “My father traveled to the Ottoman Empire several years prior, where he became involved with Thomas Bruce, Lord Elgin. Since then, he has gone missing. I have searched for him in Constantinople, but to no avail. I accepted this position in hopes of my father remaining upon the Continent and my learning more of his whereabouts.”
John’s frown lines met. “It is too dangerous for a woman alone in the city. I would prefer not to leave you behind. Return with Miss Aldridge as her companion. Meanwhile, when we reach London, I will ask my government contacts to open a search for your father. I have numerous contacts in the Home Office, which I can place at your disposal.”
She stammered, “You…you would do…would act on my behalf?” Disbelief crossed her countenance. “How may I repay you?”
“Continue to tend to my betrothed and the child, and I will consider any debt even. This is not an ideal joining, and I have use of an ally. I fear although I hold the longer acquaintance, you know more of my lady than I.”
It was Miss Neville’s turn to scowl. “You wish me to spy on Miss Aldridge and report to you?”
John was taken aback. He had not meant to instigate a wrangle. “Heavens, no!” he declared. He ran his fingers along the brim of his hat. “I…I am a bit of a blockhead when it comes to women,” he confessed awkwardly. God only knew, he had never been more uncomfortable. “Their means of communicating with just a gesture often passes my notice. Just…simply warn me if I have placed my fist within my mouth.”
She smiled easily; it was the first time he had felt his shoulders relax since he had entered Miss Aldridge’s apartments. “I cannot imagine your desiring confidence, Baron, but I love the idea of playing matchmaker.” Somehow, John thought the lady would make a perfect intercessor. Anything of significance did not escape her notice, and Miss Neville possessed the type of character, which placed a person at ease.
*
Disappointment met him when John returned to Miss Aldridge’s modest rooms the following day. The lady remained confined to her quarters. He had had a frustratingly busy day, and he had prayed for some time alone with his fiancée. Although they were engaged, he could not conduct his courtship in her bedroom. He wished to walk out with Miss Satiné on his arm, to escort her to the theatre, and to steal a kiss. Other than when he had lifted her over the lip of that glass cone in Scotland, John had never embraced her–never touched the silkiness of Miss Satiné’s skin–never permitted his lips to skim her cheek.
“I suppose you should escort me to Miss Aldridge’s quarters,” he said with disenchantment.
Miss Neville nodded obediently. “This way, Baron.”
John grudgingly followed the woman up the stairs. The only thing he found pleasant about the situation was the gentle sway of Miss Neville’s hips as she climbed the narrow stairs. Since arriving in Vienna and knowing the anticipation of calling upon Miss Aldridge in person, John had had more sexually charged fantasies than usual. He would be happy to marry Miss Aldridge quickly and squash his lust.
“Baron Swenton, Miss Aldridge,” Miss Neville announced as she led the way into Miss Satiné’s rooms.
As he had done the previous day, John paused to drink in his betrothed’s perfection. Fragile beauty. Her hair thick and heavy balanced upon her head. As fresh as a dew-laden rose. “Oh, Baron,” she said with an easy smile. “I do so apologize for my infirmity; I did truly attempt to greet you properly, did I not, Isolde?”
From behind him, Miss Neville said, “Of course, Miss Aldridge,” but something in the lady’s tone said she did not approve–whether of her mistress again entertaining a man in her bedchamber or of Miss Satiné’s true efforts, John was uncertain. He scowled in response to the possibility of his betrothed’s lack of keenness for his company.
With an enticing pout, Miss Aldridge said, “I see I have displeased you, Sir. How might I change your frown to a smile?”
John’s body reacted to the pursing of her luscious lips. He wished to tell her to send Miss Neville away and to permit him into her bed. Surely that would place a permanent smile upon his lips. Instead, he said, “Perhaps you might call me Johnathan or John. Baron remains too formal.”
“Certainly, Sir. I mean, John.” His betrothed blushed prettily. “Come sit beside me, and tell me of your day.”
The coil between John’s shoulders finally relaxed. He accepted the edge of the mattress his fiancée patted with a welcoming gesture. He cocked his leg at a forty-five degree angle and sat beside her–his thigh along her hip. The fact they were both fully clothed, and her lower body was covered by the counterpane did not reduce the thrill of this newfound intimacy. “I fear I have not known as much success as I had hoped,” he confessed. John wished to capture her hand in his: Satiné’s nearness ate at his composure. Although he had welcomed the opportunity to treat her with familiarity, his desires rose quickly when he filled his lungs with her scent.
Evidently, she did not experience the same intensity as he for Miss Satiné asked without true notice, “How so? Did you not discover a clergy to perform the service?”
“Prince Vinzens believes he has located such a man. I pray Auersperg speaks the truth or else we might be forced to wait until we arrive in England,” he confided. John did not wish to delay their joining. Each day they remained unmarried would open her further to the ton’s scrutiny.
“I am not familiar with the prince,” she shared. “Since my coming to Vienna, my days of associating with the socially elite have been numbered.”
“I thought you had joined Lady Fiona’s set. I
had asked Fiona to see to your pleasure when you arrived in Vienna.” As an adult, John had never called Fiona Swenton “Mother.” He had done so only once when he was a small child, but the late baroness had smacked his mouth quite soundly with her open palm. “You are never to call me that nasty word again!” she had demanded. “I am Fiona.” Her icy glare had frightened John thoroughly.
“Fee,” he had murmured through his tears of pain and humiliation.
“That will do until you are older,” his mother had declared with a forced smile. From that day forward, John had promised himself he would never permit another woman to bring him such pain.
Miss Satiné’s countenance held consternation, and John wondered if his mother’s letters had exaggerated Miss Aldridge’s success in Austrian society. “Lady Fiona was most kind,” she said politely. Although he knew Lady Fiona would not think on Miss Aldridge as a possible daughter in marriage, he recognized his mother’s obsession with beautiful young people, and Miss Satiné was among the most beautiful of John’s acquaintance.
Occasionally, when he had served with the Realm upon the European continent, he would slip away to call upon his mother. Even without notice of his arrival, Lady Fiona always managed to recruit a lively party of artists, politicians, and scientists with a snap of her fingers. In the beginning, John had enjoyed the high-powered company. The atmosphere was such a contrast to the staid lifestyle he had lived in York. Drinks. Comely women. Intriguing conversation. Yet, with each visit, he could not shake the growing pity he held for his mother.
Lady Fiona had been a handsome woman, but filling her home with young minds and handsome countenances did not halt the march of time. She had been an aging aristocrat who refused to admit her youth had faded. Lady Fiona demanded the attentions of one penniless artist after another. With each, she financed the man’s budding career, and each had repaid her by becoming her lover. It was a shocking reality for a young man seeking a connection to a woman who had repeatedly rejected him. “How shall I ever convince Julius I am but in my thirties when you appear upon my doorstep claiming to be my son,” his mother had chastised upon one of his earliest visits.
“I will claim only a distant connection,” John had asserted. The suggestion seemed to please his mother–something he rarely had accomplished over the years.
She had patted John’s hand in satisfaction. “Despite Jeremiah Swenton’s influence, you have become an excellent young man. Enjoy yourself this evening, Johnathan.”
“I had heard your cousin had been ill.” Miss Satiné shifted her weight uncomfortably, and again John wondered what had occurred between his mother and his betrothed. John, above all others, knew the late Lady Fiona could be less than gracious if she thought another attracted too much attention or did not give the baroness sway. “I should have made a duty call, but…” Her voice trailed off.
“Lady Fiona passed some five weeks prior,” he explained. “Her illness was the source of my unanticipated journey to Austria.”
Miss Satiné’s disbelief spread across her countenance, and from where she waited in the shadows, Miss Neville said with sadness. “I held no idea Lady Fiona suffered so severely.”
Neither had John. If he had been aware of his mother’s heart condition, he would have rushed to her side. It saddened him a woman who was never without company had died alone with none but an elderly servant to look on. She had willed all her worldly possessions and estates to him, but John would have preferred one moment of true affection at his mother’s hand to replace that long ago slap.
“The Baroness Swenton,” he corrected. “Lady Fiona Swenton was my mother.” The emotions suddenly twisting his inside caused his chest to tighten. Although his and Lady Fiona’s relationship was a poorly kept secret, the fact he could claim the woman openly was liberating.
Miss Neville’s soft whisper broke the elongated silence. “Your mother? My sincere condolences, Baron.”
Miss Satiné’s response came a heartbeat later. “Certainly so. I grieve for your loss, John. If you wish to postpone our joining, I shall understand A period of mourning is required.”
“As the world looks on Lady Fiona as a distant cousin, my claiming extended mourning rights would only confuse the situation further. I arrived in Austria to tend to my mother’s health; yet I was too late; therefore, I have claimed Lady Fiona’s remains. I mean to return her to my home and the family cemetery. There is no cause to postpone our exchange of vows. When we arrive in England, we will quietly escort the baroness to her final resting place. No one needs to be the wiser.”
For some unexplained reason instead of looking to Miss Aldridge for her reaction to what he had disclosed, John’s eyes sought Miss Neville’s countenance. The woman’s lower lip trembled with emotion as she swallowed the tears silently streaming down her cheeks. Although she held only limited knowledge of the situation, the lady mourned for a woman she did not know. From beside him, Miss Satiné said defensively, “Is this another secret we must remember not to disclose?”
John drew his gaze from Miss Neville to rest upon the wearisome expression of his betrothed’s countenance. “As I keep your confidences, I would expect my wife to keep mine. We will be a family, Satiné, and we will protect each other.”
She blushed thoroughly from his mild chastisement. “Certainly, John,” she murmured. “I meant no offense.”
Instantly John knew regret. He had never meant to bring her pain. “It is I who have spoken too forcefully,” he said by way of apology. “It has been a frustrating day. Say you will forgive me.”
She pursed her lips prettily. “You are too kind to me.”
“If I were kind, I would not require your forgiveness,” he admitted.
“Let us not quarrel over the blame. Instead, speak to me of your frustrations.”
He swallowed a steadying breath. “The ship upon which I had earlier booked passage has no more accommodations; therefore, I have chosen a smaller vessel; unfortunately, the change of ships will delay our departure by two days.”
Miss Aldridge caught his hand, and John savored the feel of her fingers intertwined with his. “If you approve of the ship, I will trust your judgment, and another two days will provide us more time for the arrangements and the journey to the coast.”
“I must remember you look for the goodness while I see only the negative,” he said as he kissed the back of her hand and permitted his lips to dwell a few seconds longer than necessary. Lust shot straight to John’s groin. He desired this woman beyond all reason.
“What else should I know?” Miss Satiné said calmly, and he was disappointed she did not display the breathless wonder he did.
John cleared his throat of the rasp and with several deep breaths, brought his passion under control. “Your man of business should call tomorrow with the settlement papers.”
She giggled softly, and John thought it an intoxicating sound. “You termed your day frustrating. It appears to me you have accomplished everything except for conquering the world,” she taunted.
John’s frown lines snapped together. He was unaccustomed to females teasing him. He had never known whether the women spoke condescendingly or not.
“I imagine if you required a champion to conquer the world, Miss Aldridge, Baron Swenton would be your knight,” Miss Neville said sweetly, and John celebrated how she had come to his rescue. She had prevented his making a cake of himself.
John grinned. “I believe without exaggeration, Miss Neville, that Miss Aldridge could tell you of how her eldest sister married a ‘knight,’ who specializes in rescuing damsels, fair or not. I am not of the caliber of the Duke of Thornhill.”
Miss Satiné said brusquely, “My sister, the duchess, writes often of her husband’s solicitousness.”
“The duke has his heir. From what I have heard, Thornhill is quite content with his life. I suspect Lady Yardley has presented the Earl of Berwick with his first heir. Lord Yardley spoke of an early March delivery.”
Miss Satiné sc
owled dramatically. “My sisters have taken well to their responsibilities to their husbands.”
John noted the disapproval in her tone. Did Miss Aldridge not believe in a loving relationship? He realized his lady did not love him, but John held hopes she would count herself fortunate to know him as her husband. He meant to capture the lady’s heart.
“And what of the others?” Miss Satiné asked politely, but without any real interest. “What of the Marquis of Godown? Of my cousin, Lady Worthing?”
John enjoyed speaking of his steady companions. Their successes had convinced him he, too, could know contentment in his life. “As I am certain one of your sisters has shared, Lord and Lady Worthing have welcomed a daughter Amelia some two months after your retreat from British shores.” He hoped his mentioning her speedy departure would not bring more pain to Miss Aldridge, but as his wife, Satiné would regularly interact with the people he described. It was important for her to understand how the dynamics had changed since her withdrawal. “The child celebrated her first birthday before Christmastide. The marquis and his lady welcomed a son in early June.”
She appeared disappointed when she asked, “Whom did Lord Godown choose as his bride?”
“Your Uncle Samuel’s former governess, Miss Nelson,” he explained.
“But…” Miss Aldridge began but quickly stifled her objections.
John assured, “You may speak your protests to me, my Dear. I will not judge.”
Miss Satiné blushed thoroughly. “I was just considering the couple’s mismatched appearances. Everyone would claim Lord Godown a magnificently beautiful man. From what I recall of Grace Nelson the lady is quite plain.”
It was John’s turn to frown. He had expected his lady to protest the differences in the marquis’s and the former Miss Nelson’s social standings. Instead, she had spoken of physical beauty. “Many would say your handsome countenance should be claimed by a man of a finer bearing than mine,” he said with self-effacement. “Yet, I assure you the marquis is passionately devoted to his wife.” He had hoped his betrothed would defend him with a soothing assurance, but Miss Satiné held her tongue. Her silence stung John’s pride.
Realm 07 - A Touch of Honor Page 3