Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace Read Online Free PDF Page A

in the annual event, and it had never occurred to Grace until that fateful day a man could die in the throes of pleasure. But her father had died with wide-eye wonder upon his countenance and a hearty laugh upon his lips.
    Baron Thomas Lenard Nelson had departed this earth some six years prior, followed closely in time by his loving wife, Lady Louisa Anabella Bredlow Nelson. Grace had discovered her mother’s body, resting in repose, in her late husband’s chambers. The physician had declared the mistress of Foresthill Hall had passed from a broken heart.
    Grace had shed more tears than she thought possible. Both of her parents had left her in less than three months time. Now, as she bounced along the rough road, wedged between a country solicitor on one side and a matronly housekeeper on the other, Grace’s thoughts fell again on the life of luxury she had once known. A far stretch from her current accommodations. Grace sighed wistfully.
    “It not be too much farther,” the solicitor said. “I ride this road often. It is superior to the interior roads,” he assured as the coach’s right wheel lurched from yet another rut left behind by recent rains.
    Grace caught the edge of the seat cushion with her free hand and straightened her legs to brace her position. It would not do to tip over onto the man. “That is excellent news,” she murmured to be polite before shifting closer to the woman.
    “You be traveling to visit relatives?” the man asked. His gaze slid over her.
    Grace knew how it appeared: An unmarried woman did not travel alone. “My mistress has sent me on an errand,” she offered. It was a poor excuse, but possibly it would allay the man’s interest. Since the day she had departed Foresthill to become a governess to Gwendolyn Aldridge, Grace had hidden what feminine features she possessed. Never a great beauty, it had been easy to conceal her real appearance away behind a high-necked gown–always a bit too large for her buxomy figure–hair pomade and a slicked-back style, as well as spectacles sporting clear glass. The woman at the employment agency had warned Grace not to display her femininity. A governess never knew of the household in which she found herself.
    Only once in the past four years had she felt the least bit feminine. The Aldridges had accompanied the Duke of Thornhill to a gathering at Carlton House, and His Grace had insisted she attend. The duke’s aunt, the Dowager Duchess of Norfield, had arranged for a luscious gown of the deepest chocolate. Grace would have preferred the royal blue or the deep green silk, but she had accepted the dark brown in keeping with her position as the governess. Thoughts of the silk skimming across her skin brought a smile to her lips.
    “It be pleasant when a woman greets her duties with a smile,” the solicitor remarked.
    Grace blushed deeply. Her thoughts had rested on the pleasure of having dined in the presence of royalty, of having been among lords and ladies, even if she had only been part of the scenery for that particular evening. The duke had invited her because her true surname was “Nelson,” and His Grace, along with Viscount Worthing, had constructed a farce to protect the reputation of Thornhill’s sister, Lady Eleanor Kerrington.
    Grace should have known a duke would hold an ulterior motive for inviting a lowly governess to the Prince Regent’s home, but she had permitted the dream to linger. Even when George IV’s gaze had only briefly tarried upon her, Grace had not considered it a slight. She realized that compared to the rich beauty of Miss Velvet Aldridge and the lady’s younger sister, Miss Cashémere, and of the classic elegance of the Viscountess Worthing her looks paled, but their decadent monarch had, at least, taken Grace’s measure; and she had thought it possible if she had worn her hair in a less severe style and had abandoned her spectacles Prinny might have lingered a moment longer on her countenance. Another