How to Wed a Baron Read Online Free PDF

necessary, and that Tatiana had declared she would rather die than be left behind.
    She had been flattered when Danica had been added to her retinue, as she had never before had her own dresser, but only shared her aunt’s. It was only proper that those closest to her be people with whom she could be comfortable, and not cold English strangers.
    But the guardsmen? They had been a surprise to her.
    Those guardsmen now stood at attention, clearly awaiting Alina’s descent to the dock. Very well, she had done as she’d planned; her first steps on the island of her mother’s birth would be taken with all the accompanying pomp and ceremony she could have wanted.
    All she had to do now was face her betrothed, look into his eyes, allow him to take her offered hand, perform her necessary curtsy that indicated her subservience and willingness to obey.
    And pray she did not throw up on his feet.
    For the space of a full minute (she knew, becauseshe had counted out the seconds in her head), Alina had cast her gaze about the dock without really seeing anything or anyone. But now she had no choice but to look to the bottom of the gangplank, where Luka and the “near-god” waited.
    She drew in a quick, silent breath. This was her affianced husband? This tall, disturbingly beautiful man whose heavy-lidded green eyes smiled at her and mocked her all at the same time? She’d expected older, jaded, even a paunch and a cane. She’d prayed for amenable, stupid, easily led.
    What in the name of the Virgin was she supposed to do with this?
    The self-assured creature approached the gangplank, planting one gleaming black Hessian boot on it as if this somehow claimed not only her as his own, but this ship as well, and held out his hand to her, openly daring her to take it.
    â€œYour servant, my lady,” he said, his eyes still mocking her. “On behalf of His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent, I, Baron Justin Wilde, your delighted betrothed, welcome you to the homeland of your mother. Her passing was England’s loss, yet her daughter is clearly England’s gain.”
    Very prettily said, she supposed. It was only as she opened her mouth to parrot the words she had learned by rote that must be spoken on this occasion, that she realized the baron had addressed herin flawless German, now the official language of Austria.
    Alina supposed he’d wish to be complimented on his expertise.
    She’d rather poke hot sticks under her fingernails. Although how silly of him to let her know she could not speak German in front of him and think he would not understand. Should she thank him for forewarning her? No, probably not.
    Instead, she answered him in English as flawless as his German, putting her hand in his open palm and then watching rather intently as he bent his dark head to within a whisper of placing a kiss on her bare skin.
    She ignored the tingle that ran up her arm, all the way to her shoulder.
    â€œYou’ve met my secretary, Major Prochazka?”
    The baron had not released her hand, but had deftly drawn her arm through his, leading her back to where Luka and an odd-looking periwigged creature stood waiting, the latter beaming at her as if personally responsible for some wonderful occurrence. Then they both bowed—the little man with much more élan than poor Luka, who had to contend with his sword—turned and began leading the way off the crowded dock.
    â€œYour secretary, my lady? Ah, yes, of course he is. And, in turn, I am the King of Siam.”
    Alina stopped in her tracks, which made the baron do likewise. “What are you suggesting, my lord?”
    â€œSuggesting? I? Nothing more, my dear, than that we begin as we plan to go on. All that faradiddle you spouted about improving trade relations? Very nicely said, but we both know the truth. Or do you wish that we go on with you pretending that you’re a pretty yet brainless twit, and that I…well, dear me,