by Ella Quinn
Such as reconciling himself to giving up his dream and working out how to convince Lady Augusta to accept him.
None of the other gentlemen had been successful in their pursuit of her. He had known they would not be. What he didn’t understand was how the men thought she’d even think of marrying them.
She did like him. Of that he was sure. But was it enough to convince her to marry him? And if not, what was she looking for?
* * *
Two weeks later, Phinn didn’t know if he was making progress in his courtship or not. They had danced several times, sometimes twice in an evening. Augusta had even allowed him to tool her around in his brother’s curricle. They had discussed politics, families, the plight of the poor and what she was doing to help—making him feel as if he should be doing something more.
Once she discovered he owned an estate, they had discussed farming and management. She was as knowledgeable in those subjects as she was in everything else.
There were times he thought they would run out of topics to discuss, but they never did. Yet, he still felt as if she was holding something back. As he was himself. And, although he’d also conversed with other ladies—he had to have something to do while waiting to dance with Augusta—he was certain if he had to marry, she was the only woman he could stand to wake up to each morning.
Except for the muffled sounds of fires being built back up, the house was still quiet when Phinn strode to the stables, excited to give his new bay, Pegasus, a try. The grooms were already awake. An older man he recognized as Ryan, the stable master, stopped his conversation with one of the younger grooms. “I suppose you want to take your new lad out, my lord?”
“That’s exactly what I wish to do.” Phinn went over to his horse, which came right up to him, and he handed the beast a carrot, then he stroked the horse’s neck. “How are you this morning, boy?”
“Right proper gentleman he is,” the stable master said. “I’ll get him ready for ye.”
“I can do it,” Phinn offered, only to be given a sour look that informed him he knew better than to do a servant’s work. “You know I am capable of saddling my own horse. You taught me.”
“Be that as it may, my lord. You shouldn’t get in the habit of it.” The stable master strode off toward the tack room.
Well, that told him. A few minutes later, he had to admit, Ryan was much faster. Phinn swung into the saddle. “Thank you.”
“Go easy with him until you two get to know the other.”
For a moment, he felt like a child receiving instruction again. “Don’t worry, I shall.”
He entered the Park and immediately saw Augusta riding a pretty gray mare. Her sister, the duchess, and a groom accompanied her.
Phinn cantered toward them. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you.” Her smile lit the cloudy day, making his heart lighter. “I did not know you rode this early.”
He hadn’t until he’d discovered she did. “I didn’t have a hack before. My brother finally dragged me to Tattersalls.”
“That was nice of him. Ladies are not allowed to attend the sales.” Augusta turned her attention to his horse. “He’s a handsome boy. What is his name?”
“Pegasus. There seem to be a lot of things ladies aren’t allowed to do.”
“Yes.” Augusta sighed. “I was told that the Aztec women were equal with the men until the Spanish conquered them.”
“You are correct. Yet, there is one thing you can be thankful for,” he said, trying to cheer her up. “The Spanish are much worse when it comes to their women than we are.”
“I should be happy my family allows me to do as much as I have.” Urging her horse into a trot, she threw him a strained smile. “Let’s gallop.”
A short run wouldn’t harm his horse. He took off after her. She reached the end of the path ahead of him. “Thank you for that. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to ride as fast as I wished.”
“She runs like the wind.” Her gray mare tossed her head as if she knew she was special. “What do you call her?”
“Zephyr.” Reaching down, Augusta stroked the horse’s neck. When she glanced at him, her eyes were alight with laughter. “Being able to run as fast as one wishes is one of the benefits of rising early.”
They began walking the horses back to where her sister waited. “I am glad you came out this morning.”
“I am as well.”
Augusta’s enticing, dark pink lips captured his attention. He wished they were alone. He’d lift her down from her horse and kiss her until they were both out of breath. “Lady Augusta”—she turned her head toward him—“would you call me Phinn? Only when we are alone, of course.” He gave her what he hoped was a boyish grin. “I like it so much better than Lord Phineas, and I feel as if we’ve become friends.”
“Only if you call me Augusta.” For a second she dropped her gaze from his as if she felt shy. He’d never seen her do that before. It was charming. “I feel as if we are good enough friends too.”
“Thank you. I shall be careful not to abuse your trust.” The duchess was riding toward them. “I think you are about to be told it’s time to leave.”
She followed his gaze. “I suppose I am. I shall see you later.”
As often as he could manage. “I wish you a good day.”
“You too.” She rode toward her sister, leaving him behind.
What would it be like to wake up with her each morning and have a different kind of ride? The thought of her dark curls spread over a pillow and her sleepy, lustful, lapis-blue eyes gazing at him caused him to have to adjust his position. Phinn remembered what his brother said about a lust match—one could just as well say being in lust—and that being a perfectly good way to begin a marriage.
There was no doubt he wanted Augusta in his bed, and that had nothing to do with mere friendship. He liked everything about her. Perhaps he was wasting time courting her and should simply propose.
An hour later, he strolled into the breakfast room. Before he could take his plate to the sideboard, his sister-in-law said, “We are attending Lady Thornhill’s drawing room.” Helen glanced up from her newssheet. “She attracts a diverse group of guests. She was also close friends with Lady Worthington’s mother.”
Meaning the lady was to be forgiven for attracting different sorts of people? Or that Lady Augusta would probably be there. “Very well. What time are we expected?”
“Most guests tend to wander in an out at will. I believe we should leave here around three o’clock. It is not far. That will give us enough time to converse with anyone we wish before the Promenade.”
When they arrived, he was surprised that the butler did no more than lead them to the door of what, at first, appeared to be a huge drawing room. Yet, upon a closer look, he realized that two rooms had been put together by virtue of an open pair of pocket doors.
Beside him, his sister-in-law sighed. “I do not understand why they must wear clothing they found during their travels.”
He followed her gaze to a couple he guessed to be in their late forties or early fifties who were dressed in brightly colored and embroidered long robes. “They look like Chinese robes.”
“I have no idea.” She took a breath. “Come, I shall introduce them.”
A few moments later he was greeting Lady Thornhill. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Phineas. I have heard you visited Mexico.”
Had Augusta told her? “I understand you have toured abroad a good deal as well.”
“We have been extremely fortunate in that regard.” She waved him to a recently vacated chair. “Please tell me about the Aztecs. I have never been to the Americas.”
For the next half hour he explained the culture and buildings of the Indian nation. “I was surprised to see so much of it remained after the Spanish arrived.”
She pursed her lips. “It is a travesty that many countries seeking new territories destroy or come close to destroying the indigenous populatio
ns and their societies. I was at first surprised that the Chinese kept foreigners out, but I came to understand that they wish to protect themselves.”
“I cannot disagree. Had the Aztecs done the same, they would not be under Spanish rule.”
Her ladyship rose. “I have kept you long enough. Please, introduce yourself to the other guests. We do not stand on ceremony here.” A faint crease formed between her dark brows. “The only exception is that if you wish to meet a young lady, come to me and I will introduce you.”
He doubted if there were any young ladies he would wish to meet, but in this gathering it was possible. “Thank you.”
He was having a conversation with two French artists when one of them exclaimed, “Ah, the terrifying and beautiful Lady Augusta has arrived.”
Phinn raised his quizzing glass. That’s what he thought other men would think, but one must depress pretentions. “Terrifying?”
“Ah, monsieur, have you ever attempted to flirt with a lady who remembers everything one says?” The man shuddered. “It is très déconcertant.” The man shrugged lightly. “But one must fall in love with her, one cannot help oneself.”
Augusta caught Phinn’s gaze and started toward him. When she arrived at his side, Phinn took her hand, raising it to his lips. Pink washed her cheeks, and the corners of her lips tipped up. “I see you have already met Monsieur Boudin?”
“I have.” The Frenchman made an exaggerated bow to her, and she inclined her head. Phinn wanted to roll his eyes. “He tells me he is an artist.”
She raised one brow. “I suppose we must take his word.”
“Mademoiselle, you are cruel. I merely require inspiration. If you would pose for me—”
“The chance of that ever happening is highly unlikely,” she said in an arid tone. Augusta placed the tips of her fingers on Phinn’s arm, and he felt the warmth of her touch. “Shall we mingle with the other guests?”
“As you wish.” He allowed himself to be led off. “I take it you are not enamored of Monsieur Boudin?”
“I thought he was much more charming when I barely knew him.” Her tone was even, but there was a hint of something stronger. “He claims to be a painter, yet no one has ever seen him produce even a sketch, even when offered the possibility of a commission.”
No wonder Augusta frightened the man. She caught all his lies. This called for a change of subject. “I take it Lady Thornhill usually wears foreign costumes for her drawing rooms.”
That made Augusta smile. “She does. My sisters said she even wears them when she gives her ball.”
“That would be remarkable.” His sister-in-law would disapprove of that even more. “I hope I’m invited.”
“I am sure you will be.” She paused for a moment. “It is not until later in the Season.”
If his brother had his way, he’d still be here, and with luck, he would be betrothed to Augusta. Thus far, he had not found anything about her to dislike, and there were a great many things to like. Life with her would never be boring.
“I take it you plan to be in England for the nonce?” They had arrived at a window seat. She arranged the cushions and took a seat.
Phinn lowered himself onto the chair next to the window. “I suppose I shall.”
“It is a shame you cannot study the great cathedrals on the Continent.”
He thought so too. Did she wish to travel? Augusta never said she did, but she must. There was a restlessness in her to which a part of him responded. “Someday I will. Would you like to go for a carriage ride with me tomorrow?”
She gave him a cheerless look. “I am promised to Lord Bottomley tomorrow, Mr. Seaton-Smythe today, and Lord Tillerton the day after tomorrow.”
Phinn didn’t know why Seaton-Smythe continued to pay court to her. “All that doesn’t seem to make you very happy.” Although, Phinn was extremely pleased about it. She always enjoyed being with him. “Why do you go?”
“My mother expects it of me.” She grimaced. “It would appear odd if I did not.”
“You certainly do not wish to appear odd.” A month ago he would have thought that was funny, but not any longer. He knew too well how vicious the ton could be.
“It is only at an event like this I can be myself.”
She still hadn’t agreed to a carriage ride with him. “May I take you on a ride in three days?”
“No.” She grinned. “But I would be pleased to have you accompany me.”
“That is even better.” Phinn was glad he had made her smile.
Even more than before, he knew they could be happy together. He would ask Augusta to marry him soon.
Chapter Eleven
A soft breeze rustled through the trees. Augusta gazed after Phinn as he rode out of the Park. Ever since the day he had asked her to call him by his first name, he had ridden at the same time she did. Her groom kept a respectful distance, allowing her and Phinn to ride as fast as they wished and talk about anything and everything. Yet this morning, her sister decided to join her for a ride.
Louisa remained beside Augusta when she started toward Berkeley Square. “My groom can see me home.”
“I am sure he can.” Surprisingly, Louisa was silent for at least three heartbeats. “You and Lord Phineas appear to be getting on well. I take it you’ve seen each other since the last time I was with you.”
“We are friends.” Thankfully, he had not asked to marry her. When her sister remained silent, she said, “We have a lot in common.”
“You have turned down several proposals. Have you thought about finding a husband?”
“Not yet.” She really wished Louisa would not pursue this topic. “I still wish to attend university.”
Louisa blew out a puff of air. “I know that Mama said you would not be allowed to travel to Italy.”
“Without a sponsor. I am making inquiries.” Augusta had sent letters to Baron von Neumann, and he had, indeed, found a family willing to sponsor her.
“Do you truly think that will be enough?” Her sister looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Augusta, she is dead set against this idea of yours.”
She did not wish to have this discussion. “If Italy is too far, there is a university in Holland I can attend as well.”
“If for some reason”—her sister brought one hand up and around in an arc as if encompassing the world—“you cannot attend university, would you look upon Lord Phineas as a possible match?”
“I am quite sure he does not want me as a wife.” Yes, they got along well, more than well, and he was very handsome. She liked the way his eyes turned to silver when he was angry or laughing. But he had never given her the idea that he was singling her out for special attention. Oh, he’d danced with her twice some evenings, but so had other men. And unlike the other gentlemen, he had not sent her flowers, or poems, nor given her compliments on her beauty. “I am sure you are seeing what you want to see.” Unless their mother had put Louisa up to this. “Or what Mama wishes to see.”
“Very well. I shall leave you here.” They had reached the corner of Mount Street and Carlos Place. It was a short enough distance for Louisa to ride by herself.
“I’ll see you at Mama’s garden party today.” Augusta did not want to be at odds with her sister.
“Think about what I said.” Louisa rode off, but glanced back over her shoulder. “We only want you to be happy.”
Augusta did not understand why her mother and sister—and who knew who else—thought marrying and having children before she had an opportunity to attend university would make her happy.
Later that morning, Augusta was once again summoned to Matt’s study.
There could not possibly be more proposals. She groaned. How many men thought she wished to marry them? Yet what else could it be? Until she had someone to sponsor her in Padua, he could not address her attending university. And the only time he asked her to meet with him in his study was because of offers she had received.
Augusta considered writing him a no
te, instructing him to tell everyone she was not interested in marriage, and to send her the names. Still, he was the one who’d had to sit through the interviews. It was the least she could do to listen to him recount them.
Augusta made her way down the corridor to his study at the back of the house and knocked on the door. “Come.”
Entering, she took a seat in a leather chair in front of his desk. The scent of lilacs drifted in through the open windows leading to the garden.
He held up a sheet of paper with three names. At the rate this was going, she would not have anyone with whom to dance. “Who are they this time?”
“Fotheringale, Belmont, and Turner.” Matt put the paper down, and his steady gaze seemed to accuse her of wrongdoing. “This did not happen with Louisa, Dotty, or Charlotte.”
“Don’t look at me as if it is my fault.” Augusta could not for her life figure out why so many gentlemen wanted to wed her. “I am polite, but have given no gentleman any possible reason to think I might accept a proposal of marriage from him. I do not even go strolling to have a conversation with a gentleman.” Except for Phinn. They, though, were strictly friends, and she was glad for his companionship. “And the only topic of conversation I have ever discussed with any of them is the weather, themselves, or what they think.”
“That’s probably it.” Her brother heaved a sigh. “Not many men can resist a beautiful lady with a good dowry who allows them to talk about themselves.”
She took a few moments to consider what he said. “Mayhap I am being too accommodating. If I was looking for a husband, I would be much harder on the gentlemen. They are obviously taking my indifference in the wrong way.”
“The bright side is this cannot continue much longer.” Matt’s lips pulled up in a sorry excuse for a smile. “There will soon be no eligible gentlemen left who have not asked to marry you.”
“Thank you for putting up with this.” She was glad she did not have to do it.
“For better or worse, it is my duty.” He placed the piece of paper in a drawer. “You will tell me if there is anyone I should not refuse?”