Realm 07 - A Touch of Honor by Regina Jeffers Page A

marriage.”
    John had had similar qualms, but his consultation with Auersperg’s advisors had convinced him all would prove well. “As the Church of England accepts Scottish marriages, I cannot imagine our joining being denied, but if that be so, we will pronounce our vows again upon our return to English shores,” he declared confidently. “It is essential to our ruse to appear convincing for us to speak our pledge before a clergy prior to departure.”
    “Of course,” she said obediently, and her subservience gulled him, but John did not comment on Satiné’s rapidly fluctuating emotions. He had heard his associates grumble about their wives’ expressive responses while the women were enceinte. The Duke of Thornhill had spoken often of the former Velvet Aldridge, Miss Satiné’s eldest sister, having verbally attacked the servants and him during her lying in. Could not it be so for his lady? “What do you require of me?”
    He said through tight lips, “I must share in Auersperg’s hospitality this evening. The prince has asked several of his political associates to dine at his residence. I am to speak to English solidarity.” He placed a purposeful smile upon his countenance. “I had hoped you could secure the cleric’s services for the ceremony.”
    “Certainly, Sir. Am I to expect the gentleman today?”
    John nodded. “At five of the clock.”
    “It shall be done,” she assured. “However, I have several preparations to which I must attend prior to the clergyman’s appearance. I shall send a note around to inform you of the arrangements.”
    John released the knocker. “Then I will withdraw until tomorrow. Good evening, my Dear.” He raised both of her hands to leave an air kiss on the back of each gloved hand. “Find rest. I wish to see a touch of color upon your soft cheeks soon.”
    *
    “I expected Baron Swenton to return with you,” Isolde said as she again served as Satiné Aldridge’s dresser.
    “The baron holds obligations to Prince Auersperg this evening, and the prince did not see to an invitation for my attendance,” Miss Satiné said testily.
    Isolde masked her reaction. “I am certain Baron Swenton would prefer your company: The man appears quite besotted with you.”
    Miss Satiné sighed heavily. “I suppose it to be so. It was fortuitous for the baron to call upon me when he did, and I am indebted to his generosity.”
    Isolde raised a brow, waited, and then prodded. “However…”
    “However, the baron is not the love I have always sought,” the girl confessed.
    “Yet, he is a good man. An honorable man. You are not likely to find another willing to place his name in a reprehensible position in order to protect yours,” Isolde cautioned.
    Miss Satiné scowled in disapproval. “It is not necessary for you to sing the baron’s praises at every opportunity. I fully comprehend Lord Swenton’s sacrifice.”
    Isolde could hear the impetuousness in the girl’s voice. She understood Miss Satiné’s desperation, but not the woman’s uncharitable nature. Miss Satiné’s uncle should never have abandoned his niece to her own devices. Even if the girl had argued against Baron Ashton’s dictates, removing her extensive allowance would have forced Miss Aldridge’s return to England. “I apologize, Miss. I meant no harm.” It maddened Isolde to play the role of a woman without astute opinions.
    Miss Satiné made a small shrugging motion. “It is of no consequence, but you may earn my continued gratitude by delivering a message to Hunsy Wetl. I cannot call upon Wetl for I must greet the clergyman Auersperg has commissioned to perform the wedding.”
    Isolde cast a sardonic look upon her mistress. “I thought you wished nothing more to do with Mr. Wetl.”
    Miss Satiné gazed silently into Isolde’s eyes, a faint smile forming upon her lips. It was an odd response, and it confused Isolde. “You are correct: Mr. Wetl knows my contempt; yet, I owe the man a debt, which