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had managed to have Satiné snubbed by the majority of the fashionable set. If he knew, would Baron Swenton withdraw his proposal? Would he agree with his mother’s estimation of her?
    “None of them know how difficult it is to be a woman alone in a cruel society. To be at a man’s beck and call.” Of course, she was as manipulative as Lady Fiona had pronounced her to be. If not, she would never have survived.
    Satiné turned to face her room. “Only a few more days, and I will escape this self-imposed prison. Baron Swenton is certainly not the man I would have chosen for myself, nor does his title hold strength, but it is enough. More than I could have expected after my fall from grace.”
    As she crawled back into bed to continue her ruse of vulnerability, a light tap on the door drew her attention. “Come!” she called as she straightened the counterpane across her lap. The door opened to expose the downstairs maid. “Yes, Marguerite?”
    “A message, Miss. Delivered by a uniformed messenger.”
    Satiné’s heart raced. She motioned the girl forward. “Thank you.” She scooped the letter from the tray. Flipping it over to read the directions, she said to the maid’s retreating form, “Tell no one of this, Marguerite.”

Chapter Three
    For a third day, John knew disappointment when he called on Miss Aldridge. “I fear the mistress is not at home, Sir,” Miss Neville shared very businesslike, a fact which rubbed John raw. He had been at sixes and sevens since he had released the knocker on Miss Satiné’s door–his emotions waxing and waning.
    “I am more than pleased my betrothed has recovered enough to venture out.” He knew his expression was dour, but John could not shake the feeling of uneasiness that skimmed down his spine. “However, I wish Miss Satiné had waited for my escort. Do you know Miss Aldridge’s destination?”
    “No, Sir, but I would imagine her speedy return.” A familiar knot tightened in John’s stomach. “Please come into the sitting room. I will send for tea, or would you prefer claret?”
    John smiled easily. “Neither for now. I am content to wait.”
    Miss Neville uttered a small sound of relief. “That is excellent, Baron Swenton.” She giggled nervously, and John thought it the first purely feminine characteristic she had displayed. He wondered if Miss Satiné’s laugh would be as enticing. John had never heard his lady laugh. He would make it a point to bring her happiness so she might laugh regularly: His fiancée had known enough strife in her short life. “I suspect we are out of both the tea and the claret. I thought we would depart on Friday, and I did not wish to waste the purchases.”
    “I assure you, Miss Neville,” he said without thinking, “my pockets are deep enough to withstand the expense. I cannot have Miss Aldridge’s household looked upon as miserly.” He accepted the chair to which she gestured, but another thought brought a scowl to his forehead. “Are there other expenses of which I should be made aware? Has Miss Aldridge overspent the allowance her uncle allotted?”
    Primly, Miss Neville straightened the seams of her dress. “I do not think, Baron, these are questions I should answer regarding Miss Aldridge’s household.”
    John sighed gustily. “You are correct: I have again treaded into dangerous waters. It is simply that I wish to remove all impediments to Miss Aldridge’s happiness. I suppose it is quite foolhardy. A man of my age and all…”
    Miss Neville’s eyes closed briefly in soft relief. “Few women would criticize a man who means to treat his wife properly. We of the feminine nature always hold great hopes to find a man who will appreciate our idiosyncrasies.” She chuckled lightly. “I pray Miss Aldridge realizes the wonderment she has in store.”
    Before the conversation could continue, the main door opened, and the sound of petite footsteps announced Miss Satiné’s return. John scrambled to his feet to