The vehicle traveled on past orchards of apples and pears now being picked. The air was sweet with the scent of ripe fruit. Finally they turned off the main road, going through an open gate and down a narrow tree-lined way that led to Primrose Court. It was a lovely warm, pinkish brick mansion of Tudor vintage that had been modernized over the years to include large windows and a round pillared porch. The coach horses trotted smartly up the graveled drive, finally stopping directly before the house. Immediately servants were hurrying forward to open the carriage door, draw down the steps, and help the passengers out, escorting them into the building.

Justin St. John was awaiting them in the foyer. "Welcome, your ladyship," he said, kissing the dowager's hand. Then he turned to Aurora. "Welcome home, my darling," he told her, and she blushed.

"Oh, St. John, don't be such a fool," she gently scolded him.

"Come into the drawing room and meet Mama," he said with a small smile. How pretty she looked, he thought to himself. She seemed to have gone out of her way for him today. She was going to say yes. He just knew she was going to say yes! His heart raced, and for a brief moment he felt like a schoolboy again. Leading the two women into the salon where his mother was standing to greet their guests, he let his parent greet the dowager first.

Mistress St. John curtsied to Mary Rose Hawkesworth. "How lovely that you could come for a visit, ma'am," she said. "I am so sorry that the ague kept me from your grand ball last May. The neighbors are yet speaking of it, and such a dramatic climax to have the young duchess faint, and everyone to learn she was with child. Is she well?"

The dowager smiled thinly. "As well as any young woman in her condition, Margaret. I have brought the duchess's sister with me today. St. John! Introduce Aurora!"

"Mama, may I present Miss Aurora Spencer-Kimberly," he dutifully said, drawing Aurora forward with a smile.

"How do you do," Aurora said softly, curtsying politely.

"So," Margaret St. John said, "you are the girl who is to marry my son, Miss Spencer-Kimberly. You are going to marry Justin, aren't you?" Her gray eyes twinkled with humor at Aurora's surprised expression.

There was what seemed a long silence, and then Aurora said, "Yes, Mistress St. John, I am. I hope that you will approve."

Margaret St. John hugged Aurora warmly. "My dear, I am absolutely rapturously relieved that some nice young woman has decided to settle Justin down. Come, now, let us sit down and have our tea."

She was in a dream, Aurora thought. Had she really agreed to marry St. John? Yes, she had. The dowager was looking smugly pleased. Mistress St. John appeared delighted as she poured out the tea, and St. John was grinning at her like a fool. Why did I say yes, Aurora wondered to herself. Do I love him? Do I really want to marry him? She sipped her tea silently. Martha would very definitely approve her decorum. She was brought back to reality at the sound of St. John's voice.

"Let's be married at Christmas," he said enthusiastically.

His mother immediately looked shocked. "Justin," she cautioned him, "one cannot arrange a proper wedding so quickly, nor is it seemly. There would be talk at so swift a union, and it would reflect badly upon Aurora, I fear. People would be counting on their fingers, I regret."

"Aurora and I have already discussed this matter, Margaret, and while it is a trifle soon, we thought next May would be lovely. Aurora has always wanted to be married in the springtime," the dowager said.

"May? That's almost eight months away," St. John groused.

"Oh, yes," his mother said to the dowager, "May would be just lovely, and the duchess will have recovered from her childbirth by then and can be at her sister's side. It's a trifle soon, of course, but no one would think badly of us if we arranged the wedding for May. The betrothal must be announced quickly, however."

"Valerian is Aurora's guardian here in England. I will see that he gives a small, intimate dinner next week, and he will announce the engagement at that time. With the duchess enceinte, no one will consider it strange we are being so simple," the dowager replied.

"What a pity the duchess's condition prevented them from attending the royal wedding and the coronation this month," Mistress St. John noted. "I understand it was all quite magnificent, and that the queen is a lovely young woman."

"Indeed, Calandra was dreadfully disappointed," the dowager replied, remembering how her grandson's wife had shrieked and carried on when she learned that she could not travel during her pregnancy. It had been three days before she had stopped crying, and she was still not over her disappointment, nor would she ever be, the dowager thought.

The two women now settled down to a good gossip, for although St. John's mother was at least fifteen years younger than the dowager, they had many interests and friends in common.

"I am going to take Aurora on a tour of the house," St. John finally said, and his mother waved them off.

They left the drawing room hand in hand, and he showed her the dining room, the back salon the family generally used, the ballroom, and the original old hall, which was beamed and hung with banners. Leading her upstairs, he took her through a door, and they were in a large bedchamber. "And this is my room," he said softly, drawing her into his arms and kissing her slowly.

For a moment she enjoyed the kiss, and then she drew just slightly away from him. "I don't think we should be here, St. John, nor should we be engaged in such activity."

"When did you decide to marry me?" he asked her, his fingers unlacing her gown as he bent to kiss her again.

"When your mother asked me," she admitted, and slipped her arms about his neck, kissing him back. "Where is my betrothal ring?"

He pushed her down onto his bed, and straddling her gently, pulled her bodice down to reveal her soft, alabaster bosom. His hands reached out to fondle the dainty mounds. Bending his head, he began to lick first the pink nipples, and then each of her round breasts in its turn. She sighed, encouraging him in his pursuit, and he began to suck on her nipples, drawing upon them strongly, biting them tenderly until she was writhing beneath him and almost whimpering.

Finally he lifted his head from the sweetness of her flesh and asked her, "Do you want to know more, my darling Aurora?"

"Yes," she murmured. She was already afire with his passionate attentions to her sensitive breasts. They felt hard and ready to burst.

"This will be so much easier when you do not have so many garments on," he told her. He pushed her skirts up. Beneath the green silk she had on at least half a dozen petticoats, but, thankfully, no panniers. He thrust the material aside enough to slip his hand beneath, and began stroking her leg, which was encased in a silk stocking and tightly gartered. He was going to undress her himself on their wedding night, slowly, deliberately, and purposively, kissing each bit of flesh as he exposed it until his very touch would set her afire. His fingers moved above her garter, touching the very soft skin of her inner thigh. He caressed it lightly, teasingly.

Aurora's head was spinning. His big hands were so gentle, his mouth so deliciously wicked when he used it on her breasts. His hand moved farther upward, brushing softly against her little nest of curls. This, she sensed, was dangerous territory. She stirred restlessly as a single long finger slipped between her nether lips to find her little pleasure button. He began rubbing it provocatively.

"Sr. John!" she squeaked.

"Don't you like it?" he whispered hotly in her ear, his finger continuing its wonderful and erotic friction.

"Yes!" Oh, God, yes! This was even better than when she did it to herself. She squirmed with excitement, gasping as she reached the crest of delight. "Ummmmm! Oh, St. John, that is simply too delicious. Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!" She shuddered.

Leaning forward, he kissed her lips, his tongue playing with her. Then he murmured, "One day I shall use my tongue on you there, my darling, but you are not yet ready for such games." The finger slipped away from her pleasure button and began to penetrate her. She gasped with surprise, but he reassured her. "It's all right, my precious. This is where I shall enter your body when we are married." His finger gently inserted itself, moving forward in her hot passage very slowly, very carefully. When he reached her maidenhead, he ceased his action, gently ascertaining that her virginity was well lodged.

She whimpered.

"Hush, darling," he soothed her, and began to move the finger back and forth within her. "There, isn't that nice, Aurora? No, sweeting, do not move else I hurt you without meaning to do so." The finger moved swiftly, and within moments she was crying out with her pleasure, and when the shudders had subsided, he withdrew his finger, putting it into his mouth to suck upon it. His member was like iron, and tightly lodged within his pantaloons. Loosening it, he lay next to her and put her hand upon it. "If you soothe me very gently, my darling, it would help."

"But yesterday you said it would hurt you," she murmured, her fingers closing about him. He was warm and throbbing with life.

"That, my darling, was yesterday in Hawkesworth's garden. This is now in my house. Gently, Aurora," he instructed as she loosed him and began to stroke his member. "Ahhh, yes, that is the way." He reached into his coat and drew forth a silk handkerchief. "Take your hand away now, Aurora. My love juices are about to flow forth."