Realm 07 - A Touch of Honor Read Online Free PDF Page A

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.”