A Well-Trained Lady (Seasons of Change Book 4)

by Jess Heileman

  I pulled too swiftly on my embroidery string, knotting it. “Miss Whitmore was a delight,” I admitted, though somewhat vexed at the concession. It was no easy feat to truly dislike someone of Miss Whitmore’s nature, despite how much I had tried at first. Had she been more like her scheming mother, the task would have been simpler, but Miss Whitmore appeared to be both kind and genuine. With such an agreeable disposition, I might wonder how she had remained unattached throughout her first Season were it not for how her regard had lingered on Augustus throughout the evening before shifting to me. The memory of it did not sit well in the least.

  I drew in a steadying breath, recalling Augustus’s assurance that he and Miss Whitmore were no more than friends. I certainly noticed his high regard of her, but, for the most part, his declaration seemed to have been given in truth. Neither had sought another private conversation after the initial one, nor were their following interactions any more flirtatious than Augustus’s were with me—less so, even.

  “And what are your thoughts on Mr. Treynor?” I asked Ruth, longing to move on from further scrutinizing the situation. It did not matter where Augustus’s—nor Miss Whitmore’s—affections lay. I was resolved on attaching myself to Lord Thorton, for Lord Thorton was very much my equal.

  “He seems a most affable gentleman.”

  I glanced up from my attempt to dislodge the knot. “And do you find him handsome?”

  Ruth blushed, and her gaze darted to Sarah. “I suppose he is tolerable.”

  Sarah’s eyes twinkled. “She finds him more than tolerable. I believe quite fetching were the words she used to describe him.”

  “Sarah!” Ruth’s expression of betrayal lasted only moments before she broke out in a fit of giggles, inducing Sarah along.

  I smiled at their silliness but shook my head for good measure, refocusing on the blasted knot that would not come free.

  “Have you begun today’s instruction without me?” Augustus stood in the doorway, his consideration moving between Sarah and Ruth before settling on me.

  My heart thudded in my chest, but I stood and put the knotted sampler on the side table as though unaffected by his appearance. “No. You are just in time.”

  Ruth glanced between us as I directed him to the back of the settee where there was more floor space. “In time for what, exactly?”

  “Considering the visit of a certain guest here at Fairhaven, I thought it would be a beneficial time to discuss interacting with gentlemen. Particularly, how to ensure you are conveying your intended hopes during said interactions.”

  “You are going to teach us to flirt?” Ruth asked, elation saturating her voice.

  I pressed my lips together, unable to keep my gaze from flickering to Augustus’s smirk. “I suppose that is how some people view it.”

  Ruth tossed her sampler on the settee next to her and rose, moving to assist Sarah to her feet.

  I joined Augustus behind the settee, ignoring the elated sensation in my chest. “I shall require your assistance again, if you are willing?”

  His lips lifted at the corners. “Gladly.”

  “Yes … well, there shan’t be much required of you in this demonstration. You need only stand here for most of it.”

  Augustus’s smile widened. “Am I to be relieved or offended by that?”

  I gave a playful shrug. “I suppose it shan’t matter either way, considering you have already committed yourself.” I turned my attention to the ladies, who watched eagerly. “Now, before we begin—”

  “You had not begun yet?” Ruth glanced between us. “I was certain you had. But I suppose the two of you are always flirting.”

  Augustus chuckled, but I curtailed it with a rebuking glance, already regretting my choice of inviting him along.

  I placed my hands behind me in a display of calm, though I could feel the trembling inside. “I was telling Augustus yesterday that language is more than mere words.” I drew in a breath. “To convey a message most effectively, you must not only say the right thing, but you must say it in the right way—intonation, pacing, and inflection are all vital.”

  Ruth and Sarah listened intently. Both of their brows drawn low in concentration as I faced Augustus. “I shall use the very line you teased me with yesterday as our first example. Though I will replace Mr. Treynor’s name with yours.”

  Augustus nodded, his eyes brimming with amusement.

  I overlooked his irksome reaction and moved to face him. “It was an absolute delight to see you again, Mr. Brundage.” My voice was flat, evenly paced, and I did not linger on any word in particular. I gave Augustus a pointed look. “That is a woman being cordial.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “Yet what I heard was that I am an absolute delight to you.”

  I held up a finger, this time drawing a step nearer to Augustus. I looked up at him from beneath my lashes and lowered the volume of my voice just enough to obtain a sultry tone. “It was an absolute delight to see you again”—my words were slow and intentional, and I placed my hand gently on his arm, leaning toward him—“Mr. Brundage.” I drew out his name a touch slower, nearly whispering it at the end. When his eyes moved to my lips, I used the opportunity to wet them.

  His gaze lingered, transfixed.

  I lifted a brow. “Well?”

  He gave a slow shake of his head. “It seems I stand corrected.”

  Both ladies giggled wildly, and I gave a victorious smile.

  Ruth stepped forward and took hold of my hand. “You must teach us everything you know!”

  “I will teach you what is necessary in order to accomplish your purposes. And I must caution you outright to use these tools prudently. The last thing you should desire is to haphazardly give any gentleman the wrong impression.” I paused. “It is a lesson, I regret, I did not learn soon enough.” I sensed Augustus’s curiosity, but I did not meet his gaze. “Shall we continue?”

  Following their agreement, I explained how to go about choosing what words to inflect, discussed pacing in their speech, and exemplified a few different intonations one could use.

  “It is your turn,” I said, beckoning to Ruth.

  Her eyes widened. “I am to try? Here? In front of all of you?”

  “How else should you learn?”

  She shook her head and took a step backward. “I simply cannot.”

  “Come now, Ruth. Would you rather feel a fool with us, or with a gentleman you are attempting to impress?”

  She frowned. “Perhaps I shall simply refrain from speaking to gentlemen altogether.”

  Augustus chuckled. “I could support that idea.”

  I shot him a hasty scowl before regarding Ruth again. “You shall do wonderfully, and I will help you along.”

  She shook her head again.

  “I will go.”

  I looked at Sarah, trying to hide my shock behind a smile. “Superb.” I took a step away from Augustus and gestured her forward.

  Sarah sent Augustus an apologetic glance before facing me. “May I try it on you instead? I know that might be odd, but it seems preferable to flirting with my brother.”

  I stifled a laugh. “Of course.”

  Sarah gave a nod and took a step closer to me, drawing in a slow inhale. Her eyes moved to mine with intention, but she paused. “What name should I call you, though? I don’t know why it seems so complex, considering it is all for fun, but I’d prefer to address you as a gentleman. Unless you oppose?”

  “Not at all. Perhaps Mr. Godwin is acceptable?”

  She nodded, and then looked at me from beneath her lashes, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink from the embarrassment. “It was an absolute delight to see you again, Mr. Godwin.” She had changed the inflection as well as the intonation—her voice full of sweetness and innocence—and it worked perfectly for her.

  “Well done,” I said, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

  Augustus shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. “Too well done, I daresay. And here I was think
ing I only had Ruth to worry about for now.”

  “Sarah is seventeen,” Ruth said with a beseeching look. “And it is not at all uncommon to see ladies younger than her out in Society.”

  He reeled back. “After that demonstration I will likely be postponing her come out for another several years.”

  At seeing both ladies’ overdone pouts, I touched the hand hanging at his side ever-so-briefly. “Come now, Augustus, do not tease them so. Despite your hindrance, they are resolved to become sensible ladies. Do you not think it best if they are made aware of all the techniques? Both for encouraging the gentlemen they hope to, as well as avoiding giving false hope to undeserving recipients?”

  Augustus released an exaggerated exhale. “I suppose I cannot keep them little forever.”

  They beamed back at him, as I resumed my spot at his side. “Shall we continue, then?”

  “Oh, yes,” Ruth said, linking her arm with Sarah. “We have been looking forward to this lesson most of all.”

  Augustus lifted a hand toward them, pinning me with a look of validation. “See, that is precisely what worries me.”

  I shook my head at his ridiculous, yet charming, overprotection. “Before we discuss incorporating touch into your interactions with gentlemen”—Ruth and Sarah shared a giddy glance, and my own heart quickened in anticipation—“I want to mention a few tips for displaying your interest during a conversation. The first, and most significant, is that men desire to feel important and therefore must be flattered constantly.”

  Augustus laughed. “That is a most unfortunate generalization, I daresay.”

  “I assure you, it is not.” His doubtful expression pressed me to continue. “As you well know, I have undergone a thorough study of gentlemen these past three years, and I feel quite comfortable offering my opinion on the matter. And I have yet to meet a gentleman immune to flattery.”

  Augustus’s lips pushed together, and he crossed his arms. It was obvious he did not care to know how I had come to such conclusions.

  I rested my hand on his arm. “I hope you do not feel I am attacking your sex, for women are by no means immune to flattery. We are simply more aware of its use, and therefore it becomes a choice whether or not we will allow for it.”

  “And how does one go about flattering a gentleman?” Ruth asked, impatience evident in her tone.

  “You must show great interest in what he has to say despite how dull it is.” The ladies both laughed. “Do not speak of yourself, except to showcase your similarities. Compliment him whenever possible without sounding trite. And never disagree with him.”

  Augustus gave a disbelieving laugh. “Again, it is preposterous to believe that a man can be so easily swayed by any woman engaging him in such tactics.”

  “I did not say any woman. Flattery is an art, and like all art, there exists a range of skill. Only the most proficient have such great influence. That is why I feel it is important to teach.”

  Augustus glanced down at my hand still on his arm. “Because you are obviously one of the masters?” His smile did not reach his eyes, and I withdrew my hand.

  The room was suddenly far too quiet.

  “I believe we are in need of a demonstration,” Augustus said, his false exuberance almost masking his concern. “Come, Bella. Show the girls what you mean.”

  “It will not work on you.”

  A side of Augustus’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “But I thought you were implying that even I am not immune to such things.”

  “Knowledge empowers a person. And seeing as I have shared a woman’s secret tactics with you, you are now only as susceptible as you allow yourself to be.”

  “So I shall choose to allow for it.”

  “No. If Ruth and Sarah wish to see an example, it must be authentic.” I glanced sideways at them. “We must select an unknowing gentleman for the purpose.”

  Ruth threw up her hands. “If only Owen were here.”

  Augustus scoffed. “As though I would allow Bella to flirt with my brother.”

  His look of disbelief forced a laugh out of me. “Is that jealousy I’m glimpsing?”

  “Mr. Treynor is the practical choice,” Augustus said, completely disregarding my inquiry. “Besides, he is likely the only other man we are to encounter any time soon.”

  My gaze flickered to Ruth. “If we were to go to town, I’m certain we could find an unsuspecting candidate.”

  “You must not forego Mr. Treynor for my sake.” Ruth gave a resolute nod. “It is not as though you are actually trying to obtain his affections.” Augustus’s brow furrowed, but Ruth didn’t take notice. “Though I would hate to see him disappointed.”

  “I shall take a more friendly approach with him in order to prove my point. Flattery need not only be used for obtaining one’s affection.” Ruth gave a nod, but I took her hand in mine. “And, in the off-chance Mr. Treynor is inclined to think more of our conversation than I intend, I will simply mention Lord Thorton. That should keep him from anything more than a momentary disappointment.”

  Augustus released a heavy breath. “Yes. Tell him of Lord Thorton. You would not want to give the poor bloke any false hopes.”

  A knock sounded at the open drawing room door, and the butler stepped through.

  “What is it, Branson?” Augustus asked the butler.

  “A visitor has just arrived for Miss Godwin.”

  “For me?” I asked, more than a little uneasy. For who should know I was at Fairhaven besides Papa?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Augustus’s gaze met mine before moving back to the butler. “Did the visitor give their name?”

  “Yes. A Mr. Leavitt, sir.”

  Disappointment pulsed through me, not at who the visitor was, but at the likely purpose for his visit. I sent Augustus an uncertain glance. “It was the Leavitts’ postponed invitation that allowed me here.”

  Augustus gave a slow nod of understanding. “Do you believe he is ready to host you again?”

  I shrugged, glancing at Ruth and Sarah, whose faces showed equal concern. “It is likely.”

  Augustus crossed his arms. “And do you wish for us to leave so that you may speak with him in private?”

  Uncertain what Mr. Leavitt would relay about my current situation, I nodded. “If it is not too much trouble.”

  “Not at all.” Augustus exhaled, turning to Ruth and Sarah. “Let us go see if Cook has made any cakes for us to sample.”

  Ruth stepped to my side. “I don’t mind staying.”

  I touched her arm. “No. Go and enjoy a sweet.”

  With one last look at me, Ruth latched onto Sarah, and they made for the kitchen.

  “You look ill at ease.” Augustus hadn’t moved, his eyes still on me. “Are you certain you wish to speak with him alone?”

  I thought of Mr. Leavitt’s loose tongue, and I knew I needed to assure Augustus all was well. He could not discover Mother’s ignorance of my whereabouts. At least, not yet. “Mr. Leavitt is the dearest of men and is perfectly harmless.”

  “Very well.” Augustus walked to the door where the butler still awaited direction. “Show Mr. Leavitt in.”

  Without a word, the man bowed and left the room.

  Augustus paused at the threshold. “I shall be back to check on you shortly.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered as he, too, disappeared out into the corridor.

  The sound of men’s voices greeting one another echoed through the doorway before Mr. Leavitt waddled in behind the butler, catching sight of me and gesturing with an extended thumb behind him. “Well, Mr. Brundage seems a most agreeable gentleman.”

  “He certainly is.”

  Mr. Leavitt scanned my rigid posture. “And have you enjoyed your stay here in Dorset?”

  Realizing his concern for me, I brightened as much as I was able. “I certainly have.”

  “Good. Good.” The jolly man’s full cheeks pulled into a smile, obviously settled by my relaxed countenance. “Well, do come over her
e and give me a proper welcome.” He reached a hand toward me, gesturing me forward. “I haven’t come all this way to be treated as a mere acquaintance.”

  Obediently, I hurried to his side, placing a kiss upon his cheek. Mother despised Mr. Leavitt’s tactless behavior, but I had always had a fondness for the man. “Do you care to have a seat?”

  “I’ve been sitting all morning, so unless you prefer otherwise, a moment to get my blood flowing would be most advantageous.”

  “Of course.” I paused. “I see Mrs. Leavitt did not accompany you. Is she well?”

  He heaved a long, drawn-out sigh, his big belly lowering at the effort. “I fear her health is not optimal, though whether it is a condition of the mind or the body is less certain.” His brow furrowed. “She has been brought quite low since the marriage of our Amelia and has refused to travel these past few months because of it, though she would deny the causation.”

  I well knew I should comment on her grievous trial, but found myself unable to push aside my curiosity. “She is still in London then?”

  Mr. Leavitt shook his head. “No. We were not in London this Season.”

  “But I …” My words trailed off as I tried to make sense of Mr. Leavitt’s declaration. I was certain Papa had mentioned they were in Town, for if they had already been home in Dorset, why would they have claimed Mrs. Leavitt’s inability to travel as a reason for postponing their invitation?

  “Do not fret, Arabella,” Mr. Leavitt said, reclaiming my drifting thoughts. “She is not in dire straits. I intend to convince her to go with me to Brighton, and I daresay she shall be herself again in no time. Salt air does wonders for an ailing person’s constitution.”

  I gave an absent nod, allowing the silence to overwhelm the room.

  Mr. Leavitt cleared his throat. “I did not mean to dampen your spirits with such news. Why don’t we move along to the purpose for my visit?”

  My heart dropped, and I was certain I did not wish to hear it. “May I offer you tea and cakes first?”