by Ella Quinn
“Tomorrow it is.”
Jane rose and the ladies followed her out of the room. Durant placed port and brandy on the table, then withdrew.
Baiju spread out a map on the table, then joined them with a pocketbook and pencil in his hand. “As you see, the route is straightforward. Unfortunately, the roads are said to be even worse than in France.”
At this rate, Phinn would soon have to replace the wheels and axles on his coach. “How long will it take?”
Hector glanced to his general factotum, who answered, “We have decided to travel by barge. It will be faster and save the coaches.” Baiju placed his finger on the map, tracing the Isar river to the Danube. “It will take two barges for our coaches. Yours”—he glanced at Phinn—“will fit with one of ours.”
“I’ve inspected the vessels,” Hector said. “We will have one with several staterooms, a large combined parlor and dining area, and a rooftop terrace, as it were.”
“It sounds like you are describing the Zille boats.” He and Augusta had looked at them. Some were exceedingly opulent. From what Addison said, he had arranged one of the larger ones to carry them downstream. Perhaps it was the one she’d loved.
“Exactly.” He grinned at Phinn. “It will be a nice break from being bounced around on less-than-desirable highways.”
He agreed. It would also give him time to ferret out what was bothering Augusta. He knew whom he had to thank for the idea. “Well done, Baiju.”
The man inclined his head. “We have rented the vessel to Budapest.”
“Meaning”—Addison gave Phinn a look laden with meaning—“we will not remain long in Vienna. Therefore, make your plans accordingly.”
That was one problem solved. It didn’t surprise Phinn that Jane had spoken to her husband. He would have been more surprised if she had not.
“Do we know anything about the route from Budapest to Trieste?” Unfortunately, after Budapest, the Danube went in the wrong direction for them.
“It is well maintained, as I am sure you know,” Baiju said. “Trieste is the most important port in the Austrian empire.”
Phinn grinned. “I’m still happy to have my suppositions confirmed.”
And he would have days on a vessel where he could find a private place to speak with Augusta. He did not like feeling estranged from her, and sent a prayer to the deity she would confide in him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Augusta listened with growing excitement to Jane’s description of the Zille boat. “You will adore it. There is a roof terrace with a sun awning. Its width surprised me. It is large enough to have an indoor corridor. That is how you reach the staterooms. Those span the width of the boat. And there is room on the bow and stern to sit as well. Hector thinks he will be able to fish from the stern.”
“Does it have a bright blue hull?” Augusta was certain she had seen the Zille when she and Phinn had been out.
Her cousin nodded. “Yes.”
“It is the Aurelia. She is named after a saint.” A saint who ran away from a marriage to a man she could not like. Perhaps she too wanted love.
“I think it sounds exciting,” Prue said. “It is definitely much better than taking the roads.”
Augusta agreed. The moment she had seen the barges, she had wanted to travel on one. On a boat, she would be able to read, something that was impossible in a coach. The only problem was she would be in very close proximity to Phinn the whole trip.
“A cook who has trained in France will prepare our meals,” Jane continued. “At night, we will tie up to the shore. The captain explained that it is too dangerous to navigate the rivers in the dark.” She smiled. “You two will be able to exercise your hacks in the evenings.”
“That will be a pleasure.” Prue had bought a lovely bay shortly after arriving in Paris. She glanced at Augusta. “Do you agree?”
“I do. Did Mr. Baiju find the barge?” Augusta had called him that since she had met him. All the younger children did as well. He had come from an important family, but something had happened, and when Hector left India, Baiju came with him. She supposed his and Hector’s relationship was much like Phinn’s and Boman’s. Although, for reasons she didn’t understand, Baiju never took his meals with them. She had not asked, but she knew enough about the Indian culture to suppose it was because he did not eat meat, and beef was especially repugnant. It would be wonderful to visit India someday. Augusta stifled a sigh. Attending university would have to be enough.
“He did.” Jane took a sip of sherry. “He narrowed our choice to three vessels. Hector and I looked at the other two, but”—her forehead wrinkled—“did you call her the Aurelia? I forgot to look at the name.”
“Yes. She was the prettiest of all the barges, and the largest.”
Her cousin blushed. “You know how Hector is about making sure I am comfortable.”
“I just think he likes to spoil you.” Prue’s eyes twinkled, their corners creasing. “Which is something to be happy about.” She pulled a silly face. “My husband called me his best soldier. Although, to be fair, he did pamper me when he could.”
The gentlemen joined them, Hector going straight to Jane, Phinn to Augusta, and Boman seemed to gravitate to Prue. Now that was interesting.
“Well, my dear.” Hector kissed Jane’s cheek. “Have you finished extolling the boat’s comforts?”
“I was still in the process. Augusta has seen the boat and remembered her name.” She tucked her hand in Hector’s as he sank onto the sofa next to her. “She was named after a saint.”
“The Aurelia.” Phinn pulled a chair up next to Augusta’s. It was so close her skirts touched his leg. “Am I right?”
“You are.” She thought about moving her chair over an inch or so, but everyone would notice. “I am surprised you remembered. We looked at so many Zillen that day.”
“We did, but you liked that one the best. I’m glad we’ll be able to sail on her.”
“You and Mr. Boman have crossed the Atlantic twice,” Jane said. The tea tray arrived and Jane began to pour.
“We have.” Phinn smiled as if he was enjoying a fond memory. “This will be a very different experience.”
“We didn’t dock at night.” Mr. Boman chuckled. “Although, you’d be surprised at the number of people who think it’s possible.”
They all laughed at that, and she decided she liked being next to Phinn too much to try to avoid him.
He leaned close to her and lowered his voice so only she could hear him. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“So am I.” She had the strangest urge to take his hand. This was definitely not going to be easy.
One of the barge captains had told her the speed of the currents in the Isar and the Danube, enabling Augusta to make some quick mental calculations. If they were able to sail for fourteen hours a day, their group would reach Vienna in approximately five or six days. She was tempted to figure the time it would take to reach Padua, but that was madness. It was better to think of being with him for a few days at a time. First she had to reach Vienna where Hector, and possibly she, would meet with Prince von Metternich, the Austrian foreign minister who had become involved in her wish to attend university. She knew that although Professor Angeloni had assured her of a place, something could still go wrong. What she would do if she couldn’t attend Padua, Augusta did not know. Actually, she did. She would have no choice but to continue on with Jane and Hector. Or, she could apply to Utrecht.
“Are you thinking about the river travel?” Phinn’s smile was tentative. As if he feared upsetting her again.
“Yes.” Excitement for the new adventure burbled up inside her. “I hope it will be as fascinating as I think it will be.”
“I’ve heard the scenery is spectacular.” He got a misty look in his eyes as if he was seeing it in his mind.
“I think we should all find our coaches,” Jane said, rising. “We have an early morning tomorrow.”
Phinn took Augusta’s
hand, holding it in his for several long moments. If only he loved her and could wait for her, and agree not to have children yet. If only she could stop dreaming of the impossible. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Until then.” She removed her fingers from his, trying not to act as if she had been singed by his touch. Even though she had. Perhaps she could find a way to ensure she was always around the others when he was there. At least then she would not be so close to him. Then again, it had not helped this evening. No matter where they were or who they were around, it was as if he managed to make her feel as if they were the only two people in the room.
* * *
Augusta woke to find her clothing for the day had already been laid out and the wardrobes were empty. How had she slept through all that?
Gobert bustled back into the bedchamber. “As soon as you are dressed, I can pack the last of your things.”
Going behind the screen, she attended to her needs and washed. Her maid took her nightgown from where she had placed it over the screen and put a chemise in its place. The valise she had bought in Paris stood open on a chair. As Gobert performed her duties she put the items she no longer needed in the bag. By the time Augusta was ready, the only things left in the room were her toothbrush and tooth powder.
Jane carried Tommy into the dining room, joining Augusta, who had already broken her fast.
“Let me hold him while you eat,” she offered.
“Thank you. He was being fussy with Nurse. He must know we are leaving again. She managed to get an egg down him, but if you can convince him to have a piece of toast . . .” Jane wrinkled her nose. “Do not allow him to soil your gown.”
“I won’t.” Augusta looked at the boy. “Did you hear that? You may not make me dirty.” He reached out as she broke off a piece of toast. “Here you are.”
“Mmmm, good.” Swallowing, he held his chubby little hand out for more.
“He reminds me of Theo at this age.”
“Good morning.” Phinn strolled into the room and smiled at her. For a second she could imagine him kissing her, before he stroked Tommy’s head.
“Good morning.” Augusta gave herself a shake. What would it be like to have children with Phinn? During their travels she had seen him playing with the baby and enjoying it. He would make an excellent father.
For someone else. Not me. I am not ready to have children.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He caught Tommy’s hand.
She glanced at the child and Phinn. “What did he do?”
“He was about to smear his buttery little hand on your clean gown.” He tore off another bit of toast. “Keep your hands on your toast and ask if you would like more. Are we clear?” Holding his hand out for the bread, Tommy nodded enthusiastically. “Somehow I doubt your memory will last past swallowing this piece.”
After Tommy finished the last of the toast, Augusta wiped his fingers before handing him back to Jane. Phinn had almost gaped at seeing her with the child in her arms. He’d wanted to wrap his arms around both of them. Not that he thought Tommy would ever be Phinn’s with Augusta, but another child could be.
In time. When she was ready for one.
Prue, Boman, and Addison wandered into the dining room, relieving Phinn of the necessity of making conversation when he’d rather think about a life with Augusta.
Guilt stabbed at him. He remembered Helen’s pain and despair over not having given birth to a son. But was Addison right? Could Phinn still keep his vow to his brother and put off having children? After all—he glanced at the man in question—Addison was an honorable gentleman and wouldn’t suggest anything that would cause Phinn to break his vow. He had promised to try to have a son. But it did take some couples years to have children, even when they had come from large families. His parents had not had his brother until they’d been married for almost five years. Even then, they’d only managed to have two living children. Still, he knew Helen wanted him to fill his nursery immediately, though Dorchester had not asked that of Phinn.
And now that he knew he loved Augusta, he could not in good conscience marry another woman. He’d make himself and the unknown lady miserable. He had to have her as his wife. To do that, he had to give her what she wanted—university, and to put off having babies. But he required something too. Lust was no longer enough. He needed her to love him.
She pushed her chair back from the table. “I will be ready to depart in a few minutes.”
He would simply have to wear her down. “Would you like to walk with me to the port?”
Augusta stilled, and he wondered if she’d refuse. Was whatever happened yesterday still affecting her? “Yes. I shall meet you back here.”
He hurried down to his rooms where his valet waited to finish packing, brushed his teeth, and strode back to the parlor. When he arrived she was opening the door to her bedchamber and talking to someone in the room. She turned and smiled at him, but her eyes were guarded. This was going to take some time. Fortunately, he had a lot of that particular commodity.
Holding out his arm, Phinn said, “Shall we?”
“Of course.” She gingerly placed her slender fingers on his jacket.
Before leaving the hotel, they stopped to bid farewell to the landlord and his wife.
“We have so enjoyed staying with you,” Augusta said.
“And we have been delighted to host you.” The landlady dipped a curtsey. “I wish you a pleasant journey from here.”
“Herr Duschl.” Phinn gave a short bow. “It has been a pleasure.”
“When you return, you shall stay with us.” The man bowed.
“By then you will be married, yes?” Frau Duschl nodded her head.
Flushing a deep red, Augusta muttered something unintelligible and hurried out the door.
Phinn drew a breath before saying, “I sincerely hope we will. Thank you and farewell.” He caught up with her next to the bakery. “Let’s buy some Butterbrezelen.”
Her breathing was rapid, and instead of answering she headed toward the door. He got to it just in time to open it for her. He had the sinking feeling the landlady had set him back weeks in his campaign to convince her to marry him. Perhaps if he ignored what had been said as if the incident had not occurred, it would help her recover her countenance.
“Good morning, Frau Becker.”
“Grüß Gott. Butterbrezelen for you?” she asked, using the local Munich dialect.
“Yes, please. Two for us”—he pointed to himself and Augusta—“and eight packed for later.” Ever since they had discovered the salted bread in the shape of a knot spread with fresh butter in Strasbourg, Brezelen had been one of their favorite treats. He’d miss visiting the bakery. If Vienna didn’t have them, he’d have to find another treat.
The baker’s wife handed him one of the two Brezelen. The other she gave to Augusta. She licked the bits of butter that had oozed out from the slice in the bread, and it was all he could do to not think of her licking him and him returning the favor.
Her eyes closed as if she was in Heaven. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Phinn was surprised his voice was so steady. The rest of him wasn’t. Damn, he had to get control of himself.
The last coach had just been loaded onto the boat when they arrived some twenty minutes later.
“You took your time,” Addison said.
Phinn held up the package. “We brought Butterbrezelen for everyone.”
“You’ll be forgiven then.” The man grinned. “I’m sure.”
He took the bread into the dining area and placed them on the table where Tommy couldn’t get into them on his own. They were a favorite treat for the little boy. Then Phinn found his chamber.
It had two windows with curtains on either side of the wooden door. At the other end of the room were more windows with a view of the river. The room was much more spacious than he’d thought it would be. In essence it was a long, wide platform that looked as if a house had been set on top of it. Musson
was busy unpacking, prompting Phinn to explore the rest of the boat.
He went through the covered corridor to the stern. Set along the wall as if they were billiard cues were several fishing poles. To one side was a steep, narrow staircase leading to the roof. He climbed up. A waist-high rail ran the length and width of the area set up as a terrace with wicker chairs and two sofas. As Jane had said, the whole space was covered by a canvas awning. Below, a narrow deck ran past the stateroom windows. Phinn strolled to the other end where a ladder had been built in, and climbed down to the bow. As far as he could see, the vessel was clean and in excellent condition.
Augusta stood off to the port side of the bow looking over the river. “Have you looked around yet?”
She turned as if he’d startled her. “Not yet. Have you?”
“I was on the roof.” He ambled toward her. “We will like sitting up there.”
“I did not react well to what the landlady said.” Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she wrung her hands. “I apologize for embarrassing you.”
“Your apology is accepted, but I was not embarrassed.” Wanting to hold her close, he settled for placing his hands on her shoulders. “I was concerned about you.”
“It is nothing. I have been feeling a little out of sorts.” Why was she lying? Augusta lifted her shoulders and he let his hands slip off her.
“Perhaps being on the boat will help.” He wished she’d confide in him. “I’m told it’s relaxing.”
“I am sure it will be.” She turned her attention back to the river. “Even this, being at the dock, is peaceful.”
On the other side of the barge, the crew brought in the gangway. Shortly after that, the lines were cast loose and the boat was under way as two crewmen using long poles pushed them away from shore.
“This is so different from the ship leaving Dover.” Augusta glanced over her shoulder, a broad smile on her face and in her eyes.
“It is.” He joined her at the rail. “Not nearly as hectic.”
Phinn wanted to tell her that everything would be fine. That he would make it right for her. If only she’d tell him what was wrong. If she did not confide in him, and this continued, he’d ask. What he refused to do was allow her to continue to suffer or shut him out of her life. He was beginning to think Dorchester had the right of it when he’d married before falling in love. To be always on tiptoes around her was hell.