Believe in Me

by Ella Quinn

  Dipping his chin twice more, he looked at the results.

  “Excellent.” Musson carefully laid aside the other cravats. “I venture to say it will shortly be copied. What shall we call it?”

  We? As if standing there ready to assist with a fresh neckcloth was part of the endeavor. Phinn supposed there could be a “we.” His valet was responsible for seeing to the perfect laundering of the neckcloth. “Trone d’amour is taken, therefore I suggest ‘Gone Hunting.’”

  Musson pulled a face. “If I understand your meaning, may I suggest ‘Love’s Knot’?”

  Phinn frowned. “No one said anything about love.”

  “Of course not, my lord.” His valet’s back was to him as Musson returned the unused cravats to the clothespress.

  After dining with Sir Charles and Lady Elizabeth at their private apartments in the embassy, Phinn would accompany them to Harrington House for a soirée. Despite the numerous entertainments he had attended over the past ten days, waiting for Augusta’s party to arrive, he’d missed her. Not only talking with her, which was always a pleasure to be savored, but having her near him. She would have understood and taken part in his joy in the way the stones had been laid to form the great arches of the cathedral in Amiens. But she would also have been happy to stroll along the streets, appreciating the differences and the sameness of the towns on the way to Paris.

  He kept thinking it was a great shame he had not kissed her that day in the garden. Yes, he was a gentleman, and gentlemen did not kiss unmarried ladies without a declaration. Still, Phinn wished he’d been able to taste her rosy red lips and stroke the silken skin of her cheeks.

  He felt a tug as his valet attached his pocket watch and stuck it into a vest pocket. Glancing into the mirror, he noticed his quizzing glass had been attached as well.

  “The sapphire tie pin I believe, my lord.”

  The stone was close to Augusta’s eye color. “I agree.”

  What would she think of seeing him here? Would she be happily surprised or furious? He wished he knew. She might feel as if he’d tricked her. Which, to be honest, he had. Well, there was one thing she’d be glad about. That was seeing the Oaths of Strasbourg. He had arranged for her to view them tomorrow.

  Musson assisted Phinn into his jacket. He donned his topper, picked up his cane, strolled out the door, and into the private parlor where Boman waited. “Shall we depart?”

  “I was waiting for you.” He rose from the sofa.

  One of the hotel town coaches stood outside the front door to take them to the embassy. Just over two hours later, after an excellent dinner, their party arrived at Harrington House.

  Only Harrington and his wife stood in the receiving line, and it appeared the Stuarts, Phinn, and Boman were not among the first to arrive. What startled him was the number of people present that he had not already met. He’d been to several entertainments since arriving in Paris.

  As had happened in England, he found Augusta almost immediately. He made his way slowly through the other guests. He’d been pleased to discover that without his sister-in-law escorting him around, the matchmaking mothers gave him little thought. He was, after all, merely a younger son.

  Augusta was speaking with another lady who had the same dark hair as she did, but was several years older.

  Grinning to himself, he sauntered up behind her. “Lady Augusta.”

  Phinn bowed as Augusta turned to face him, raising a brow. “Are you not a little far from Lincolnshire, my lord?”

  “I did say I would see you again.” He kept his tone lighthearted, as if she should have expected to see him here.

  “You did.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You also knew that I thought you meant you would see me when I returned from the Continent. What in Heaven’s name are you doing here in Paris?”

  “I couldn’t very well tell you I was leaving for the Continent. You might have found a way to avoid me.” The real question was would she do so now.

  “But why?” Augusta shook her head slightly. “This—you make no sense at all. You have to marry, and I am not ready to—”

  “Have babies. Yes, I am well aware of that fact.” For a second he felt as frustrated as she looked. “Who is the gentleman in the green jacket staring at you?”

  “I have no idea. Comte something.” Phinn raised a disbelieving brow, and Augusta heaved a sigh. “Oh, very well.” She cast her gaze to the ceiling. “He is the Comte de Châlons.”

  “You’ve only been here a day, and already you are attracting gentlemen.” Phinn surveyed the room, noticing several other men looking at Augusta and him.

  “It is not my fault.” She cut a disgruntled look at the comte. “There are almost as many single gentlemen here as there were in London. I am trying not to attract more attention than I already have.”

  “No one, least of all me, said you were.” Phinn offered her his arm. “Would you care to stroll around the room? I’ve met a number of thought-provoking people since arriving. You might wish to know them.”

  She took his arm as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Or perhaps he was the enemy she knew. After all, he too wished to marry her. “How long have you been here?”

  “Just over a week. Did you stop to see the cathedral in Amiens on the way here?”

  “Yes, indeed.” Her expression brightened and a smile touched her lips. “I take it you did as well.”

  “I couldn’t have resisted if I’d wanted to.” He chuckled lightly. “I pestered the priest until he allowed me to see the plans.”

  A slight frown marred her countenance. “Lord Harrington said that he inquired, but that I am not allowed to view the Oaths of Strasbourg because I am a female and cannot be considered a serious scholar.”

  “So I was told.” Phinn was glad the man had not told her he had agreed to help.

  Her gaze flew to his. “But how?”

  “He mentioned the problem to me.” Phinn tucked her arm more securely in his. “I have made arrangements to accompany you.”

  “You do not know Old French.” Drawing her brows together, she seemed as if she was pondering the difficulty. “It will be boring for you, waiting for me to read it.”

  He wanted to tell Augusta that making her happy could never bore him. But she wasn’t ready to hear that. “It’s a library. I’ll find something to read.”

  “If you are sure, then thank you very much.” Augusta smiled at him again. “I was afraid I would have a problem finding a scholar to accompany me.”

  “You need not worry about that.” They approached an open French window, and he was tempted to stroll outside with her. “I shall be happy to be your scholar.”

  Her musical laughter made him feel lighter. It had been too long since he’d heard it. “Oh, dear, we are being rude. Prue—” Augusta glanced around. “She left.”

  “Actually, we left. She is over there.” He pointed to a group of people around Lady Harrington that included his secretary. “Who is she?”

  “My cousin, Mrs. Prudence Brunning. Her husband died at Waterloo. She has agreed to be my companion.”

  Augusta seemed happier, more at ease than she’d been in England. He wanted to believe it was because of him. “How long do you remain in Paris?”

  “A few weeks, I think.” She puckered her brow. “My cousin, Hector Addison—oh, he is the one who planned the journey—has some details for our onward travel he must finalize. Have you been invited to many entertainments since you have been here?”

  “It is not London, but yes.” They had begun strolling once more. “Everyday someone or another is hosting an event.” She looked as if she wanted to run away. “I have a suggestion.” He wanted to laugh at the appalled look on her face, but smiled instead. “Let’s not focus on the evening entertainments and instead decide upon the sights you would like to see and we shall visit them. I bought a guidebook and have found a number of noteworthy buildings and other places.”

  “That is what I have heard as well.” She
lowered her eyes, and thick, dark lashes lay against her milky skin. “Thank you again for making it possible for me to see the treaty.”

  “It seemed extremely unfair to me that they would not allow you in on your own merit.” He was not going to mention that another reason for arranging it was so that she’d forgive him if she had been angry.

  Augusta halted for a moment and gave him a searching look. “May we go tomorrow? It might sound silly, but for years I have wanted to actually see, smell, and touch the earliest and one of the few existing documents in Old French.”

  “I completely understand. That is how I felt when I viewed the original plans to the cathedral. In fact, I thought you might wish to view the documents as soon as possible and made an appointment for tomorrow.” And had purposefully ensured he had no other obligations in the event she wished to view the treaty. He glanced down at Augusta. Her blue eyes deepened with what he hoped was pleasure. What other types of pleasure would make her eyes that shade? “Afterward, we can visit one of the cafés.”

  “That would be wonderful! I have heard it is proper for ladies to dine or drink coffee or tea in the cafés and restaurants in France. I wanted to dine or have tea in one on the way here, but Jane wished to wait until she knew that it was acceptable, so it was one of the first things she asked Elizabeth.”

  “I’ve seen a number of ladies at restaurants.” He’d consult the hotel about which café he should take Augusta.

  “There you are.” Lady Harrington sailed up to them. “There are several gentlemen who would like to be introduced, Lady Augusta.”

  She glanced at Phinn as she sucked in a breath. “May I meet them some other time?”

  Her tone was so doleful, Phinn wanted to take her away where she could just concentrate on her studies.

  “I am afraid you must meet them now.” Lady Harrington took Augusta’s arm.

  She glanced at Phinn, as if asking for his help, and he started to follow them. “I shall come with you.”

  “No, no,” her ladyship said in a hasty tone. “You must mingle.”

  So much for that. Bowing, he took Augusta’s hand and whispered, “I’ll come for you at ten tomorrow morning, if that meets your approval.”

  She graced him with one of her bright smiles. “I shall be ready.”

  Augusta wanted to protest meeting yet more gentlemen, but she had been too well brought up to argue with Elizabeth. Therefore, she smiled politely as three Frenchmen and two Englishmen who had just arrived in Paris a day or so ago were made known to her. Fortunately, it was a soirée, and there was no dancing. After a few minutes of conversation, she gave them a shallow curtsey. “If you will excuse me, I must find my cousin.”

  Phinn was acting like her friend again, and Augusta could almost forget he had proposed to her. He still had not completely answered her question as to why he was here and not in London. Yet, she did not wish to press the issue. It was enough she would have with her one of the very few people with whom she could discuss anything. Not only that, but he had arranged for her to see the treaty she had been looking forward to reading.

  When he’d said what he did about the library not being fair to her, his gray eyes had taken on the color of molten silver, and his expression was sincere. The best thing about that statement was Phinn meant it.

  She remembered what Jane had said about the right man. If only he did not have to marry and have an heir, and he loved her.

  Augusta scanned the room but could not see him. Where had he gone?

  She had entered the second drawing room before she found Prue and Jane engaging in a comfortable coze. Phinn was still nowhere to be seen. “If you do not mind, I would like to retire.”

  “Not at all,” Jane said, rising. “I shall come with you. I wish to look in on Tommy.” She linked her arm with Augusta’s. “How are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Honestly?” Jane nodded. “I would have rather been left alone with a good book.” One of the not-so-pleasant aspects of traveling such long distances was that she discovered she began feeling ill if she read in a coach. “I do have some good news. Phi—Lord Phineas has arranged for me to see the treaty I wished to read. He will collect me tomorrow morning.”

  Jane took a few more steps before responding, “Excellent. You should mention it to Prue in the event she must go with you.”

  “You are right.” The library was only a little over a mile. “I assumed we would walk, but in the event we take a town coach, I will need a chaperone.”

  Augusta hesitated to tell her cousin the rest, but she could not lie by omission. And she did not wish to destroy Jane’s trust in her. “He has also asked if I would like to visit a café or restaurant afterward.”

  “Elizabeth did say it is what everyone does. Therefore, who am I to object?” They started to climb the stairs. “As long as you sit outside, I will not ask that you take Prue.”

  “Very well.” Prue might not like the library, but she had wanted to visit a restaurant as well. “Although I think she would like the treat.”

  The corners of Jane’s eyes crinkled. “You must ask her at breakfast.”

  The following morning, Phinn arrived while Augusta, Jane, Prue, and Elizabeth were still at the breakfast table. Geoff, Lord Harrington, had gone to the embassy, and Hector was off doing business of some sort.

  “Have you broken your fast yet?” Elizabeth asked after Phinn had bowed and bid them good morning.

  “I have.” He grinned. “But if you have tea, I would dearly love a cup.” It was strange how Augusta had never before noticed what a nice smile he had. His teeth were even and none that she could see were missing.

  Elizabeth waved him to a chair next to Augusta. “I was told your hotel catered to English visitors.”

  “They do, but the tea just isn’t the same as what I have at home.” Pulling out the chair, he lowered himself into it.

  She poured him a cup of tea. “Will we walk to the Bibliothèque nationale or take a carriage?”

  “The weather is excellent. I see no reason not to have a nice stroll.” He took a sip and looked as if he was in Heaven. “I thought you might like to stretch your legs after so many days in a coach.”

  “Yes, I would. Thank you for thinking of it.” She glanced at Prue. “Would you like to accompany us?”

  “Thank you for asking, but you do not need me. I would rather visit the modiste Madame Lisette recommended.” Prue’s gaze stayed on Augusta for a few moments longer. “Unless you wish for me to go.”

  “I actually think you would be bored.” She was just as happy her cousin was not coming. She did not wish to be hurried, and would feel that she must if Prue was waiting for her.

  “In that case, we all have our plans for the day,” Jane said. She glanced at Phinn. “I have given Lady Augusta permission to go to a café if you dine outside.”

  “As you wish,” he said, inclining his head. “I no way desire to harm her reputation.”

  “Naturally. Her footman will accompany you as well,” Jane added.

  “Naturally.” Phinn calmly drank his tea.

  She should be ecstatic he did not appear to want to be alone with her. They were just friends as they had been before. Yet a strange sense of hurt pinched at her. Augusta drained her cup. She was being ridiculous. She had everything she wanted. “I shall be ready in a few minutes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Shortly after Augusta left the breakfast room, Phinn rose. “If you will excuse me, I shall wait for Lady Augusta in the hall.”

  “As you wish,” Mrs. Addison said. Yet, there was an undertone in her voice that had him wondering if she knew he wanted to be more than a friend to Augusta. “Have a good time, and thank you for making it possible for Lady Augusta to read the document.”

  “It is my pleasure.” He bowed before leaving the room.

  When he gained the hall, a tall footman with dark hair who looked to be in his late twenties stood off to the side waiting. That must be the servant who was to ac
company them. He’d have to think of something for the man to do while he was dining with Augusta.

  Just as Phinn was about to approach the fellow, light steps could be heard on the upper floor. He turned in time to see Augusta pause at the top of the stairs and caught his breath. Light from the upper windows illuminated her form, the small hat she wore appeared like a halo, and for that moment, she looked like one of the angels in the cathedral. Her rose-colored walking gown, topped by a spencer, hugged her full breasts—spencers must have been designed to torture men—making him shift uncomfortably. Thank the deity he was wearing trousers and not pantaloons.

  She caught him gazing at her and smiled. “Oh good. You are ready to depart.”

  Phinn didn’t think he’d ever seen her so happy. How many more documents in Old French could he manage to find?

  When Augusta reached the bottom step, he strode forward and held out his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”

  She tucked her hand in his arm. “Of course, my lord.”

  The footman opened the door, and followed them out. They strolled down the rue du Faubourg before turning to go by Place Vendôme, pausing to look at the tower with the bronze statue of Napoleon sitting on a horse atop the column.

  “Do you think they will ever succeed in pulling the statue down?” Augusta asked. “They have tried more than once.”

  “I don’t know.” What made a man need a tower with a bronze statue of himself on it? “Many people here are still quite fond of him.”

  She hugged herself as if she was cold, and he wished he could take her in his arms. “I fail to understand how anyone could be enamored of a man who was responsible for the deaths of so many.”

  “Nor do I, but perhaps we will find someone to explain it to us.” He started forward, but she didn’t move. “Augusta?”