by Ella Quinn
* * *
Phinn and Boman arrived at the ball not long before the first waltz. Phinn had no desire to stand up with anyone other than Augusta, and with Helen not around to prod him, he didn’t have to.
He found Augusta dancing the cotillion with one of the English gentlemen who had flocked to France, giving him what he began to think of as her vacant look. Unfortunately, the fellow appeared extremely pleased with himself as he nattered on.
Devil confound it. The same thing that had occurred in London was going to happen here. Somehow he had to find a way to discourage gentlemen from offering for her. Augusta deserved to enjoy the entertainments without a man offering for her every time she turned around. To the best of Phinn’s knowledge, there was no one gentlemen’s club the Englishmen frequented. That would make his objective harder.
Spotting her family, he made his way to them before the set ended. “Good evening.”
The Addisons and Mrs. Brunning returned his greeting.
“Thank you for arranging Lady Augusta’s visit to see the documents,” Mrs. Addison said. “She was absolutely delighted with the experience.”
Had Augusta not told them she was the one who tipped the scales, as it were? “I did nothing more than facilitate her entry into the building. Lady Augusta was the one who convinced the director to allow her to read the treaty.”
The older woman’s eyes widened. “She did not tell us that part.”
“She is too modest.” Phinn decided to say no more. This was Augusta’s story to tell. Did she not trust her cousin? She had spoken well about the woman today.
As he conversed with Augusta’s family, her dance partner, Lord Reynolds, returned her to her family. “Lady Augusta,” the man gushed, “I greatly enjoyed standing up with you.”
Phinn had to stop himself from rolling his eyes; then he caught Addison’s look. Her cousin was no more excited about the fribble than Phinn was.
He’d met his lordship shortly after he had arrived in Paris. Reynolds had been traveling on the Continent for the past year, but it was now time for him to return home—and no doubt find a bride. Phinn knew that even if he proposed, again, she wouldn’t accept him, but the fact that Reynolds was bound to make an offer irked Phinn to no end.
Fortunately, the music announcing the waltz began. “My lady.” Holding out his hand, he bowed to Augusta. “This is our dance.”
Her smile lit a fire in his soul, and she placed her small, perfect fingers in his. “It is, my lord.”
He steeled himself against the way his body heated when he placed his hands on her waist. How could she not feel something! Then he saw it. The pulse on her neck quickened and her eyes grew darker as he twirled her around the floor. Yet, how was he to convince her she belonged with him?
Augusta did not understand why she felt so warm when she danced with Phinn. She did not have this reaction to anyone else. Perhaps it was because she actually enjoyed the set instead of going through the motions. She glanced up at him. His eyes were like storm clouds. Had the rest of his day not gone well?
“Are you upset about anything?”
“Me?” He seemed startled by the question. “No. I’m fine. Would you like to visit Notre Dame tomorrow? We’ll go to a milliner’s afterward, and you can purchase hats for your sisters.”
That was a wonderful idea. “I would love to. I have wanted to see the cathedral. If you need someone to take notes, I am happy to act as your amanuensis.”
“Excellent.” She’d do a good job as well. “Shall I collect you at ten again?” Phinn was keeping up with the conversation, but Augusta thought he seemed distracted. And he was not telling her everything. Although, maybe she should not wish to know what he did when he was not with her. After all, he was a man. Perhaps he had found a lady to whom he would propose. Yet, if he had, why would he want to spend the day with her? Perhaps the lady did not like analyzing the architecture of churches. If that was the case, it wouldn’t be a good match. She would make a decision when she met the woman. Surely, Phinn would introduce the lady to his friends.
They spent the rest of that set and the next discussing what they wished to see. At the end of the evening, she still had the unsettling feeling she was missing something. But she no longer thought a lady had distracted him.
The next day they went to the cathedral, where they spent several hours, then to a milliner’s. He found a wide-brimmed bonnet that curved down when a ribbon was tied beneath one’s chin.
“How do you like this?” He held it up over her head, then pulled a face, making her laugh. “I think you should try it on.”
After removing her hat, she donned the other one. “Yes, I think this will do. Now to make it extravagant so that the twins and Madeline will love it.” Augusta called to a young woman who seemed to be in her mid-twenties. Recalling the name on the sign out in front, she said, “Good day, are you Madame Belrose?”
“I am her daughter. How may I help you, Madame?”
“I have three sisters who are fifteen years of age and adore beautiful and unusual bonnets. Can you design something for them?”
“Fifteen, you said?” the woman asked. Augusta nodded. “I have a new fabric from the town of Tulle. Perhaps that and silk flowers. But at that age, they must begin to understand that more is not always better.” The milliner sketched as she spoke. When she was done, she showed Augusta a hat adorned with a sheer fabric, ribbons, and flowers, but also with more sophistication than what the girls normally wore. “I will show you the fabric.”
Tulle turned out to be a fine net fabric. Some of it was plain, but some had small dots, and others were embroidered in gold and silver thread. Her eye was drawn to one with small seed pearls attached to it. Then Madame showed her one with spangles. “That is perfect. The bonnets each need to be in a different color.”
The young woman grinned. “But, of course.”
“I would also like to buy several ells of tulle.” The new fabric would be perfect for her friends. Before they left the shop Augusta had ordered three bonnets, trimmed as Madame had drawn them.
She linked her arm with Phinn’s as they left the shop. “Now I must find something for Mary and Theo.”
“The terrifying younger two?”
Augusta was ready to chastise him, but his eyes were full of laughter. “Yes. Do you have any ideas?”
“Not at the moment, but I’ll think on it.” They passed a store window with gowns for younger girls. “Let’s look in here.”
“Good day, Madame. I am looking for gowns for two girls. . . .” The modiste went over designs and fabrics with Augusta. She drew out the list Grace had provided of the girls’ measurements. An hour later, after ordering two gowns that could be worn for dinner as well as special occasions, she and Phinn departed the store.
“Do you have any more shopping to do?” he asked.
“I should get something for everyone, but there are other countries.”
“There are indeed.” He chuckled. A few minutes later he said, “Is Paris everything you thought it would be?”
“Parts of it are.” The parts when she was discovering the city with him were fun and entertaining and just what she liked. It was strange no one else seemed to wish to accompany them. Not even Prue, whose position it was supposed to have been. Then again, Augusta did not pay her cousin, and she really did not need her. In fact, Prue would be de trop when Augusta was with Phinn. “I am not as fascinated in the evening entertainments.”
“I find myself in total agreement with you.” Phinn’s tone was as dry as dust. Was that it?
“Then why do you attend?” If she had her way, she’d do something else. “No one is making you.”
“To ensure you are having a good time.” He glanced down at her. “Even if no one else notices, I can see you are bored to death.”
If she could dance every set with him, she would not be bored. “If only more gentlemen had the slightest interest in anything other than themselves.”
“Ye
s, well . . .” He let the sentence hang. They had crossed one of the small bridges crossing the Seine and were in an area called La Rive Gauche. Artists lined the pavement along the river as they had in the park yesterday. “Would you like to have your portrait painted?”
“Perhaps some other time.” She glanced around. A number of cafés were in the area. “Right now I am quite peckish.”
Phinn let out a bark of laughter. “Never let it be said I keep you from nourishment.”
Although the restaurants were busy, they found one with a vacant table outside. The offerings were different from what they had had before, but they still sounded wonderful. But it was growing late, and not only tea, but dinner awaited. In the end, they both chose omelets accompanied by a green salad and crusty bread.
After arriving back at Harrington House, Phinn suggested they visit the Musée du Luxembourg and have luncheon at another restaurant. “We shall be hungry again.”
“Do you not wish to go to the Hôtel de Cluny?”
“I do. In fact, I’ve asked Lord Harrington if he can make the arrangements.”
“I hope he’s successful.”
* * *
Three weeks later, Phinn and Augusta had visited the famous house and had exhausted the sights to see in Paris.
“We are going to Versailles tomorrow,” Augusta said as she and Phinn walked back to Harrington House.
“I know. Your cousin, Mr. Addison, invited me to accompany your party.”
“Did he?” Her brows shot up. That was surprising.
“Do you mind?” Phinn frowned slightly, his tone hesitant.
“Not at all. It is only that Hector has not asked any of the gentlemen to do anything with us. He even requested Lady Harrington not to invite any of them to dinner.”
Phinn guided her across the street. “I shall choose to be honored.”
“I should say so.” Augusta laughed.
She was not laughing an hour later when Hector asked to speak with her privately in Lord Harrington’s office.
“I have received three offers for your hand.” He sounded as if proposals were the last thing with which he wished to deal.
“You cannot be serious.” She had made absolutely sure she did nothing but dance with any gentleman other than Phinn. She bit down on her bottom lip, praying one of the offers wasn’t from him. But he would not. He knew she must attend university.
“I wish I was.” Hector heaved a sigh. “Your brother warned me this might happen.”
She sat on a cane-backed chair, allowing her cousin to occupy the sofa. “Who are they and what did you say?”
“Lord Reynolds, Lord Cloverly, and the Comte de Mortain. I told them all that you were not available to wed.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not available to marry. I suppose that is as good an excuse as any. Did any of them ask for a reason?”
“No.” Hector drew his lips down. “I imagine they will make their own assumptions. I can only trust word spreads, putting an end to this foolishness.”
Augusta hoped his expectation bore fruit. “Very well then.” When she rose, he did as well. “I’ll be happy to leave Paris. Maybe the next place we visit, I will not be made to attend balls and such.”
He suddenly barked a gruff laugh. “That would be my recommendation.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
When Augusta walked into the breakfast room the next morning, she was surprised to see she was the last one down. Everyone, other than Jane and Hector who had begun breaking their fast in their rooms with Tommy, was at the table. “You are all up early.”
“I could not sleep another wink.” Prue picked up the pot of tea next to her and poured a cup for Augusta. “I loved Versailles the last time I saw it, but that was in the evening. I cannot wait to see the gardens.”
She put two sugars and milk in her tea. “Is it as fabulous as everyone says?”
“More so,” Elizabeth replied. “I am very glad it was not destroyed during the revolution.”
“Indeed.” Harrington handed the newssheet he’d been reading to his wife. “The gardens are exquisite.”
“I would advise you to eat now. There will be food at Versailles, but you will be lucky to get much of it. There will also be a great many guests.”
A footman brought Augusta two soft boiled eggs and fresh toast. “I must admit, I am looking forward to wearing my new gown.” She had been surprised to discover she was not limited to pale colors, yet she looked well in white. The modiste Madame Lisette had recommended turned out to be her cousin, Madame Félicité. She had recommended a white silk heavily embroidered with bright spring flowers, seed pearls, and silver thread. It was a court gown, after all. With it Augusta would wear the pearls her mother had given her. “I find it strange to be dressing so elegantly for a daytime event. Then again, I had to do the same when I was presented.”
“Day or evening,” Elizabeth said, “it is still the French court.”
That was true. Augusta dug into her breakfast.
A few hours later, Augusta, Prue, Jane, Hector, Elizabeth, and Harrington stood at the front door while two coaches were brought around the courtyard drive of Harrington House. Each coach had a matched team of four horses. One set in black and the other set in dark bay with white socks. Two footmen rode on platforms built onto the back of the coaches. Six outriders, also in livery, were on horseback. They were all required to make the correct impression, and the jewelry they were wearing was worth a fortune to those less fortunate.
Elizabeth decided the ladies would travel together, leaving the gentlemen to their conversation.
Augusta was about to take her place in the coach, when Harrington pulled out his pocket watch. “I informed Lord Phineas we would depart on the hour. You ladies may leave when you wish. We should have no problem catching up to you.” Just as Harrington tucked his watch into his waistcoat pocket, Phinn strolled into the courtyard. “Well met.” Harrington inclined his head. “Gentlemen, ladies. We are ready.”
As with the other men, Phinn’s jacket was velvet and heavily embroidered. The color was Prussian blue with gold thread and flowers around the collar, down the edges, and around the hem. The jacket showed his broad shoulders to perfection. The flowers on his waistcoat matched the jacket, but along the bottom edge of the waistcoat were small peacocks. His breeches were the same color blue. He wore a court sword and carried a chapeau bras. As at the English court, gentlemen did not actually wear the hat.
Although Augusta had expected him to wear court dress, she had not expected him to be so handsome. When did that happen? She had spent at least part of every day with him and had never given his looks much thought. Now, she could not stop gazing at him.
“Augusta, dear.” Prue touched Augusta’s arm. “You are staring.”
Heat rose in her cheeks, and her heart began to pound harder, making it hard to breathe. Then Phinn’s gaze met hers, and he grinned like he always did. “You”—he kept his eyes on her as he bowed—“all of you look lovely.”
“I’d thought I’d left my days of dressing for court behind me,” Hector complained. “Although, the courts I attended belonged to Indian princes and pashas.”
“You look very handsome, my love.” Jane reached up and bussed his cheek. “I shall see you there.”
When Augusta finally managed to drag her gaze from Phinn, he offered her his hand. “Allow me.”
“Thank you.” She placed her fingers lightly on his palm. A tingling started the moment he closed his hand around hers.
Not this again.
The next second she was in the carriage, and he had stepped away. She was not going to think about him anymore. He was just her friend. Nothing more. The paths their lives were taking would not allow them to be together.
Despite the warning Elizabeth had given them, when they arrived at the Palace of Versailles, the gathering was much larger than Augusta had expected.
Long tables had been set up, and footmen were running back and forth putting
platters on them. Smaller tables with chairs dotted the area at the back of the palace, around the garden.
They made their way to where the king and queen sat on a dais under a canopy, and were presented. After that, her party began strolling through the gardens, greeting the people they knew.
Somehow Augusta found herself separated from the others and being escorted through the gardens by the Comte de Châlons.
Drat, she really needed to pay more attention to what she was doing, where she was going, and with whom.
A rose bower stood at the end of the path they were on, which would effectively shelter her and the comte from anyone else’s sight. “I must go back.”
“You cannot truly wish to return.” His tone—she was certain—was meant to be seductive. All it did was raise the hairs on the back of her neck.
“I do, indeed, wish to return.” She dropped her hand from his arm and turned to leave. Before she could make her escape, his fingers closed around her arm.
“My lady, I have something I wish to say to you . . . privately.”
“I am sure you do,” she muttered to herself. How was she going to get out of this bumble-broth without creating a scene?
“I beg your pardon?” He started steering her back down the path toward the bower. “After we have our little talk, I will show you our late queen’s favorite palace, the Petit Trianon. You will adore it.”
“Let. Me. Go.” Augusta jerked her arm trying to loosen his hold. “I do not wish to have a discussion with you.”
“Ah, but I cannot.” The comte turned to her again, trying to draw her closer. “You are an innocent. This I know. But you need have no fear. I would never harm you, mon trésor.”
She dug the heels of her half-boots into the macadam path. Why had she not been paying more attention? Why hadn’t she brought her dagger? Not that this gown had a pocket for it.
“Monsieur le Comte.” A young man with blond hair and a heavily embroidered blue suit, whom she’d never met, moved his hand to his sword. “Did I not hear the lady say she wishes to leave?”