Realm 06 - A Touch of Love (65 page)

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Authors: Regina Jeffers

BOOK: Realm 06 - A Touch of Love
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J
ohn Swenton released the knocker to the apartments in a less than stylish section of Vienna. It tore at his heart she had fallen so low. A year had passed since he had last laid eyes upon her–actually sixteen months, one week, and four days–and John’s heart quickened with the possibility. He had dreamed of her every night since he bid her farewell upon the docks at Hull.

He had come to Vienna, not to call upon her again, but to say his farewells to Baroness Fiona Caroline Swenton, his mother, but he had been too late. As she had always done, the baroness had made her exit with no regard for how it might affect him. Another woman would have fought her illness until her only child had arrived upon her doorstep, but Lady Fiona had never known maternal heartstrings.

When he had arrived too late to sit by Lady Fiona’s bedside, John had made arrangements to have his mother’s body exhumed. He meant to see her remains buried in the Swenton family cemetery behind Marwood Manor. He was certain Lady Fiona would not appreciate the gesture, but John knew his father’s ghost would approve. Jeremiah Swenton had died, figuratively, the day his wife had walked away from him and their young son. She had performed her duty of producing an heir, and the lady wished nothing more of their company. John had often imagined the late baron had simply held onto life until John was of age and could assume the barony without legal complications. It had not been an easy life for either of them, but somehow they had survived the shame and the scandal.

“Yes, Sir?” A striking red headed pixie appeared as the door swung wide. She was dressed as a lady, rather than a servant, and for a moment, John wondered if he had the wrong directions. Her skin was pale and creamy, with a sprinkle of freckles across her nose, and despite his purpose in calling upon the household, John felt an unusual twinge of awareness.

Swallowing hard against his unconscious response to the woman, he bowed stiffly. “Baron Swenton for Miss Aldridge.”

“Baron Swenton?” The girl’s smile widened. “Please come in, Sir.” She stepped back to permit him access. Closing the door behind him, she said, “I am pleased for the acquaintance, Sir. Miss Aldridge speaks kindly of you.” John liked the idea of knowing Baron Ashton’s niece occasionally thought of him, and in a positive manner. He thought of her every day and every night. “Please permit me to accept your hat and gloves, Baron.” John obediently obeyed. “I am Miss Neville.”

Realization dawned. This was the lady he had hired to keep him informed of Miss Aldridge’s needs. She was reportedly of good family, but had been left alone due to family mishaps. His man of business had made the arrangements, and upon initial impression, John had approved of the hire. As requested as part of her settlement with his man of business, the lady had dutifully sent him two letters in the previous five months outlining her employment and sharing many of the “secrets” of Miss Aldridge’s household. He did not think kindly on his actions in this matter, but as propriety kept him from corresponding with Miss Satiné directly, he had chosen the only course available to him. He wondered if Miss Neville had requested his presence in Vienna in a third or even a fourth letter to his home. He had been from Marwood for some three months–first, with the art theft investigation, and then with travel during the winter across the Continent.

“Ah, Miss Neville,” he said with a second bow of respect. “I was not expecting Miss Aldridge’s companion to act as man servant.” He relaxed, his smile without humor. “I was in the city,” John explained, “on family business, and I had hoped to have the company of Miss Aldridge. Please excuse my forwardness.”

A flare of panic crossed Miss Neville’s countenance, and John wondered if he had overstepped the lines of propriety beyond reason. Naturally, his fascination with Satiné Aldridge did not mean the lady would return his regard. “I fear, Baron, Miss Aldridge is not receiving.”

John felt the pang of disappointment. “Of…of course,” he said through tight lips. It had been foolish of him to pin his hopes on this visit. “If it is acceptable, I will leave my card. I should have thought…” He paused to collect his composure. “If you would ferry my message to your mistress, I would be most appreciative. I mean to depart for England at week’s end. Please ask Miss Aldridge if I might call upon her before then. You may reach me at Auersperg. Prince Vinzens has extended his hospitality.”

The lady appeared decidedly intrigued, but with an equally noticeable wary expression, she responded, “I am certain Miss Aldridge would enjoy having Prince Auersperg’s acquaintance, but I should have explained more adequately: Miss Satiné has taken to her bed. I do not expect her to be available for visits or for social events for several weeks to come.”

John drew in a deep breath to disguise the tension clutching at his chest.
Was Miss Aldridge seriously ill? Could he lose her before he had had the opportunity to declare his intentions?
“Has a physician seen to the lady’s care?” he pleaded. He struggled with the desire to know what had occurred.

Miss Neville gestured him to a nearby sitting room. She closed the door to keep their conversation private. Neither of them chose to sit. The lady wrung her hands anxiously. “I am at sixes and sevens, Baron.” Mixed with the fretful overtones in her voice, Swenton noted the twinge of an Irish accent. Many in York held Irish roots, and he was accustomed to the soft roll of the vowels and even a few of the consonants. “Although I serve Miss Aldridge, I am aware you are most assuredly my employer, and I am indebted to you for your generosity.” John had pretended to act with Baron Ashton’s approval when he had placed Miss Neville in Miss Aldridge’s household. He fully understood others would not approve of his presumptuousness, but it was the means he had for information on the woman he loved. Miss Neville presented him a rueful shake of her head. “I hold an allegiance to both you and Miss Aldridge.”

Swenton’s mouth thinned with displeasure. “I will not sack you if you keep your mistress’s confidences, but you must know I hold Miss Aldridge with great regard. If the lady has need of my protection, I would perform my duty gladly.”

The blue sapphire of her eyes flashed.
With annoyance or admiration?
he wondered. She worried her bottom lip in indecision. Finally, with a sigh of resignation, she explained, “When first I came to Miss Aldridge, all appeared well, but as I confided in my last letter, over the past three months, Miss Aldridge has
become more withdrawn, barely leaving her rooms. Her appetite has become nonexistent.”

John stilled. “Was there nothing to be done for the lady?” He sucked in a deep breath and mentally braced himself for Miss Neville’s next pronouncement.

Anxiety sounded in Miss Neville’s tone. “Miss Aldridge’s illness was not one medicine could cure. Only time will do so.” She pressed her fingertips to her mouth as if she wished to snatch back her words. Averting her eyes, she continued, “This is not a conversation for strangers, especially strangers not of the same gender.”

He responded in a tight voice. “Yet, I insist, Miss Neville.”

She regarded him intently, and John cursed his weakness: The one where he had always sought love where none existed. He had hoped this visit would lay the basis for Miss Aldridge’s return to England, as well as preparing the way for him to woo the woman with a proper proposal. To date, he was the only one among his associates who had yet to claim a bit of happiness.

Miss Neville momentarily glanced away before meeting his gaze with her firm one. “Miss Aldridge’s lack of appetite was self-imposed,” she explained. “My mistress worried for her figure.”

A barbed smile formed on his lips. “I cannot imagine Miss Aldridge’s stature would tolerate anything less than perfection,” he declared with confidence.

“And I am certain Miss Aldridge sought perfection when none was to be had,” she countered.

His voice had a harder edge than he intended. “Perhaps you had best explain without all the niceties, Miss Neville. I tend to be a plain spoken man.”

Her expression sobered before the woman nodded curtly. “Miss Aldridge has kept a scandalous secret from all her dear friends and family. Her withdrawal was to disguise the fact she was enceinte. Miss Satiné delivered a son a fortnight past.”

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