The more he turned through the folder, the more intimate his drawings had become and the angrier he grew as he looked at them, feeling the same passion for her stir once more yet knowing it was an impossibility for him to ever be with her in such a way. Far from sticking to the beauty of her face, he had indulged in drawing her figure too, marking out her curves through the contours of her empire gowns. There was the hint of a bosom seen in many of his drawings.
Loftus sat back in his chair and covered his face, hiding the sketches from his eyes. Augusta was his siren. She drew him to her. He was incapable of resisting the passion he felt for her.
As he had tried to sleep, he had imagined all sorts of ways their meeting that afternoon could have passed, without the past haunting them and without the chaperone nearby. All his imaginings ended in the same way. With the two of them tumbled to the rug, their bare legs entwined together, with Augusta moaning his name and clutching at his back.
He dropped his hands from his eyes and looked back down to the sketches.
Of all the women in the world Markus could have shown a comfortableness with, it had to be Augusta.
Why Augusta? Am I to be tormented by her forever?
The thoughts came with such forceful anger that his movements became sharp, he pushed the leather folder away from him, watching it slide across the desktop. He tried to calm himself, for Markus’ sake, he could not allow his fury to rule his life.
At least there was hope in something here. Augusta had destroyed his life once, perhaps by helping Markus it could be atoning for the pain of the past. He would just have to be business like. That is what he told himself as he hid the drawings away again, binding them in the leather folder and pushing them to the back of the draw.
She is my best chance for helping Markus.
He would just have to ignore his desire for her.
The shock Augusta felt when a note arrived for her from the Baron was unrivalled. She felt she was reliving the past, when love notes would be delivered to her door, but this note did not speak of affection. It was simple and bland, with merely polite language, explaining he was sending a carriage for her to bring her to the house.
The carriage had pulled up outside of his house within a short time. She had spent the journey nervous, fidgeting in her seat and thinking of what to say to the Baron when she saw him. The footman opened the door, assisting her down from the carriage towards Holmes who greeted her in the doorway.
As with the day before, she was shown to the drawing room where she was to wait for the Baron. As the time passed, she grew impatient and started wandering around the room, admiring the ornaments and the furnishings. When she reached the window, she spent many a minute gazing beyond the glass at the garden, admiring how it had grown and blossomed in the last eight years.
“Good afternoon,” the Baron’s voice startled her, urging her to look away from the window to find him bowing towards her.
“And to you,” she bobbed a curtsy in reply, just as an awkward silence descended. She had been determined to keep her anger under control that day, no matter how much she wanted to rail at him and demand an answer for his behavior eight years ago. She was there to help Markus and no good could come from growing angry. In the corner of the room, the housekeeper was present once again, with her head turned down to a book in her lap.
Augusta glanced back at the garden through the window, determined to find something to talk of with the Baron. If she were to help his son, she and Loftus would be seeing more of each other. They would have to find a way to talk to each other that was neither tense nor filled with cold animosity.
“It has changed very much.” She pointed to the garden.
His green eyes followed her gesture beyond the glass.
“Yes, it needed updating. It has had a complete redesign.”
“Completely?” She looked back out to the window. “The topiary bushes?”
“Removed.”
“The summer house?” She had meant to ask her question in a nonchalant way, but the mention of the house made the Baron hesitate in his reply.
She looked back, realizing her mistake, and feeling the heat of a blush crawl up her cheeks. The summer house was where they had escaped to one day in their courtship, hiding from their chaperone. It was perhaps the most elicit afternoon they had ever spent together. Far from just chaste kisses, they had laid on the chaise longue together with wandering hands. They had not crossed a line, but it was one of Augusta’s most exciting memories of him, with his hands around her waist.
She had often dreamed of that moment, imagining what else could have happened between them.
“That too has gone.” His face was full of fury, his lips pursed into a tight light. She knew she had to change the topic quickly if they were going to avoid exchanging cold words with barely restrained anger.
“Well,” she looked to the garden, biting her lip in thought and wondering if he had rid himself of anything that reminded him of their courtship. “The garden does look beautiful. I was thinking perhaps Markus and I could explore it together.”
“Yes,” he nodded, looking away from her. “I am sure he would like that. It is my hope that if Markus can be comfortable with you, the more he grows used to your company, then perhaps he can be comfortable with others too.”
“I think it is a good plan,” she nodded, smiling slightly. It was an admirable thing he was doing. His evident wish to help his son only softened her feelings towards him. She tried to harden them again, to protect herself from him, but it did little use. “I was wondering, is there anything that has happened to Markus that could possibly explain his mutism?”
The Baron walked across the room, coming nearer to her. He kept his gaze out of the window, moving to stand beside her. She felt a little terse at him closing the distance between them, it was as though he was taunting her. She tried to step to the side very slightly, putting a little more air between them.
“It is just an unusual thing to develop overnight,” she tried to explain her question as she kept her eyes on him. “I thought perhaps there could be some pain there that may be causing his fears?”
“That would be because of his mother.” The Baron flicked his green eyes to her briefly before returning them to the garden. “Since her death, he has not spoken to another woman.” He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped.
“There is something else?” She asked with intrigue.
“It is of no matter,” he shook his head. He had been about to tell her something, it was clear to see, but had thought better of it. Whatever window he was about to show her into his world had been firmly closed again.
The idea of the trauma for the poor boy made her return her gaze to the garden too. She had heard of the Baroness’ death, though she had tried not to think too heavily on the matter. Her uncomfortableness grew as they stood together looking out at the garden. She needed to move the topic onto a new conversation.
“Tell me more of Markus.” She turned her head to the Baron, seeing the rise of his eyebrows in surprise as he too turned his head to her. They both kept their bodies towards the garden. “If I am to help him, I would like to know him better. What does he like to eat? Does he have favorite games? Anything of the sort.”
“Gingerbread is his favorite thing to eat, without a doubt,” the Baron betrayed a small smile. The crack in the hard countenance he had been wearing made her too smile. “Though he also has a weakness for custard pudding. As for games, he is fond of Spillikins, blind man’s bluff, and a few card games, such as Fish.”
“What of shuttlecock?”
“Oh yes, but be warned, if you play that with him, you will probably never get him indoors again.”
“He loves it that much?”
“It is not so much that as when he loses the shuttlecock. He is always determined to find it again even if I tell him it hardly matters. He will spend hours at a time searching,” the Baron folded his arms, a genuine smile playing around his
lips. “I found him recently with his hand in the fishpond trying to pull out what he thought was the shuttlecock, but it was in fact one of the fish.”
“They must have been rather startled,” Augusta laughed.
“They were so upset, I thought they were all about to leap free from the pond and attempt to swim across the grass instead. One of them even tried it and I had to rescue it from a nearby flower bush,” he laughed too.
“Well, if we play shuttlecock, I will be sure not to let Markus anywhere near the fishpond.”
“Thank you.”
“What of horses? Does he like to ride? I hope he does not scare them the way he does the fish,” Augusta smirked at the idea. She had such a love for horses, she quite liked the idea of showing Markus how to ride.
“He is a little nervous of riding, but there is a Shetland pony in the stable here he does know how to ride, but he does it rarely. That perhaps should be an adventure for another day. With his recent mischief, if he is to continue in the same vain, I do not want to run after the frightened pony as I did the fish scurrying across the grass.”
“I think the Shetland pony would be harder to capture.”
“Quite so.”
At their shared jest, they both looked at each with a smile. As quickly as Augusta realized the ease with which they had fallen into speaking, she saw the same surprise appear in the Baron’s face. They both looked away again through the window to the garden.
She cleared her throat, startled by how nice it had felt to talk with him as of old. She turned angry for allowing herself to enjoy his company. She needed a polite restraint between them. She had worked hard to remove the cold anger, but she could not allow this warm exchange either.
“I would truly like to help Markus,” she said after a moment, her voice just above a whisper as she tried to stop herself from sounding angry. “With that in mind, perhaps you and I should continue to talk as we did just now?” The Baron looked towards her with a suspicious glare.
“Do you think that is even possible?” The green eyes were laced with disbelief. She tried to hold onto his gaze.
“I would like to try, wouldn’t you?”
He looked away from her again, out to the garden, leaving her free to admire the handsomeness of his profile. He seemed to be summoning an answer when the sound of footsteps disturbed them.
“Ah, Markus,” the Baron turned away to the door where the little boy stood. He walked towards his son with a bounce in his step and opened his arms. “Come here you.” The boy rushed forward into his father’s embrace, allowing his father to pick him up. He carried Markus back over to the window to face Augusta.
Only when they were back in front of her did Augusta realize how much she had smiled at the sight.
I always knew Loftus would make a good father.
“Do you remember your new friend from yesterday?” The Baron asked as the boy looked up at her with bashful eyes. “Well, Miss Creassey has come back to see you today.”
“What do you say to playing in the garden, Markus?” She kept her manner buoyant, determined not to let any difficulties between her and Loftus affect Markus, the poor boy had suffered enough hardship. “I hear you know how to play shuttlecock and it has been a long time since I played. What do you think to giving me a game?”
The boy smiled at the idea.
Chapter Five
“Good shot!” Augusta cried as Markus struck the shuttlecock with the battledore. Markus smiled, the action stretching his face into a full beam, brimming with pride at her compliment. As the shuttlecock flew towards Augusta, she grabbed the blue skirt of her empire gown in one hand to prevent herself from tripping as she ran towards it. She hit the shuttlecock back towards Markus who jumped to return it.
The shuttlecock flew straight up into the air above them. They both ran to stand side by side to watch its trajectory. They were stood in the open grass section of the garden, bordered with tall oak trees.
“So high I think you could touch the clouds with that one, Markus,” Augusta laughed as she brushed the wisps of hair away behind her ears. They had come loose in the exertion of the afternoon.
Markus had been a little reticent at first when they had begun their game, but a few strikes in he grew to love it, his green eyes alight and his cheeks blushed. An hour later, both were red cheeked and tiring.
“What do you reckon?” Augusta looked down at him with a smile. “Who will be the first to hit it when it comes back down to earth?” At her challenge, the boy raised his battledore into the air. “You will? It is a wager then.” She giggled as she looked back up – the shuttlecock was dropping through the air again towards them.
She made a show of trying to get to the shuttlecock first, but she let Markus jump in front of her. He struck it high into the air again, but this time it landed in the branches of a tree. Rather than returning to earth, it stayed lodged between the branches.
“Oh dear, neither of us put a wager on the tree catching it, did we?” She smiled as she moved to Markus’ side. The boy laughed before turning his gaze back up to the trapped shuttlecock. The smile disappeared. He reached up with his battledore as though trying to poke it free, but he was far too short to make the distance. The branch stretched so high over their heads that Augusta would not have been able to reach it with her own battledore. “I think it is a little high.”
At her words, the boy dropped the battledore on the floor and hurried towards the trunk of the tree about to climb it. The Baron’s story of Markus’ determination to retrieve a lost shuttlecock from the pond came back to her.
“Oh no, Markus,” she moved to his side. “I cannot let you climb a tree.” The boy ignored her and continued in his effort. “What if you were to fall?”
The boy paused and looked back to her. He shrugged as if it did not matter then returned to his task.
“Very well, if you do not mind getting hurt, then do it for my sake. What would your father say to me if I allowed you to be hurt? He would be very cross with me.” To her words, the boy hesitated then walked away from the tree again. “There now, I am safe from his reproach.”
Markus stopped at her side and looked up to her in confusion, wrinkling his small nose. Augusta knew the look well. He did not need to speak for her to understand the problem, she had seen similar confusion in the children of her friends.
“Ah, would you like to know what the word ‘reproach’ means?” She crouched down to his side as the boy nodded. “It means a kind of anger. If you were to get hurt by climbing that tree, your father would understandably admonish me for allowing you to be hurt. He would speak harshly to me.” Markus made a show of stomping his feet on the ground as though imitating his father. “Yes, and he would no doubt stomp around too.”
“Indeed, I would.”
The voice made Augusta snap her head away from Markus to someone standing between the trees watching them. It was the Baron.
Loftus was amazed at the transformation. In one afternoon of playing shuttlecock, Markus was happily stood by Augusta with a great smile on his cheeks, laughing at her jokes. He had watched from the house window for some time, incredibly relieved to see his son so happy. Yet his eyes had kept drawing to Augusta, seeing the flush of her cheeks and the way she kept picking up the skirt of her dress to run was inviting his mind to wander to places he knew he should not allow.
He was surprised at the ire that had grown at that sight. Anger for himself for desiring her, and angry at her for coming back into his life.
Augusta was looking at him with surprise now as she crouched down in front of Markus.
“Markus knows me well,” he smiled and walked towards his son, patting him on the head as Augusta moved to her feet. “I do have a temptation to stamp around when angered.” He remembered when he had received Augusta’s letter calling off the betrothal – he had never been so angry as in that moment, and he had thought he would never stop marching through the house in an attempt to walk off his fury.
&nb
sp; The boy began to do another impression again, stomping his feet on the ground, making the two of them laugh.
“Yes, just like that,” Loftus glanced between Markus and Augusta again, amazed at the boy’s progress. He was even making jokes in front of her. No other woman could draw such a behavior from him. “Now, why were you going to climb a tree anyway?”
Markus pointed up to the branch above their head, urging Loftus to follow the gesture and see the shuttlecock himself.
“It rather interrupted our game,” Augusta smiled, drawing his gaze to her. “A good thing too, I was about to lose, was I not?” She looked to Markus who nodded joyfully.
In the Baron's Debt: Historical Regency Romance Page 4