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Back A Man of Honor
Chapters (71)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. Part One
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Part Two
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Part Three
  38. Thirty-Three
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Thirty-Five
  41. Thirty-Six
  42. Thirty-Seven
  43. Thirty-Eight
  44. Thirty-Nine
  45. Forty
  46. Forty-One
  47. Forty-Two
  48. Forty-Three
  49. Forty-Four
  50. Part Four
  51. Forty-Five
  52. Forty-Six
  53. Forty-Seven
  54. Forty-Eight
  55. Forty-Nine
  56. Fifty
  57. Fifty-One
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Part Five
  61. Fifty-Four
  62. Fifty-Five
  63. Fifty-Six
  64. Fifty-Seven
  65. Fifty-Eight
  66. Fifty-Nine
  67. Sixty
  68. Sixty-One
  69. Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
  70. About the Author
  71. Newsletter Sign-up

Adrian took out a cigarette, and before lighting it he said, “When he goes to visit her, the King, I mean, her children crawl all over him and call him ‘Kingy.’ How about that?”

“How do you know? That’s my question,” Robert asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Because my father is a friend of King Bertie’s, and advises him about money. That’s as far as I can go with that, the money part. My father rather likes our head of state, thinks he works hard, has proved himself to be highly competent, and an unusually clever diplomat.”

“You sound admiring yourself,” Robert murmured, and added, “The silver trolley is being pushed our way. We’re about to enjoy a delicious piece of beef, with the best horseradish in town.”

Thirty-Seven

He awakened suddenly, as if he had been shaken, and sat up, disorientated for a moment about whether he was still at his house in Yorkshire. When he had gone to bed earlier, he had opened the long draperies covering one of the windows to allow fresh air to circulate. He preferred a cool room. Now moonlight streamed in as well. It was still the middle of the night.

Throwing back the bedclothes, Robert Lassiter swung his long legs to the floor and turned on the small lamp on the bedside table.

Thank God for the invention of electricity, he thought, as he hurried into the adjoining bathroom, where he turned on another light.

He stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself, deciding he looked exactly the same as he had a week ago. Black hair, sleeked back, black eyebrows above bright blue eyes, pale cheeks, clean-shaven and a full mouth.

This was him, all right, no doubt about that. And yet he felt completely different, not the same man at all. But of course he did. A change had been wrought the moment he had set eyes on Vanessa Stratton.

He was hopelessly smitten. And shaken up inside, and knew he was in trouble, because he was not a free man, could not pursue her. He had nothing to offer her. Certainly not an affair, which, incredibly, she was willing to embark on, and at once.

He had fallen for her, had never felt this way before. Oh yes, women there had been, but only infatuations; no relationship had lasted very long.

An unexpected smile curved his mouth as he pictured her in his mind, the image of her face very vivid, the abundant russet hair, the amber eyes, the alabaster skin. A precocious young woman who couldn’t help being honest and a trifle blunt, traits that had instantly endeared her to him, since she was revealing her true self to him.

He didn’t want to be in trouble. He never had been before, and trouble did not work with his lifestyle.