by Ella Quinn
From the corner of Phinn’s eye, he saw Augusta move to another group that included Viscount Celje. Several minutes later, she found yet another party with which to speak. The hairs lifted on the back of Phinn’s neck as he watched the young gentleman’s eyes follow her hungrily.
“That is Pavle Celje, a viscount,” Herr Kornhäusel said.
“I beg your pardon?” Phinn had been watching Augusta instead of listening to the conversation.
“The gentleman who has eyes for the lady in blue.” Herr Kornhäusel glanced in the direction Phinn had been looking. “His name is Pavle Celje. He has just finished his Grand Tour and his father, Count Celje, is here arranging a match for him.”
Phinn hoped his father found the man a wife quickly. The viscount was much too interested in Augusta. Although it was most likely just calf love. “Where are they from?”
“Slovenia. Just north of Ljubljana. They are a wealthy and influential family.” That didn’t make Phinn happy. It was a good thing Jane wanted to visit Zagreb, thus avoiding that part of Slovenia. “I met him a few years ago when I spoke with his father, Count Celje, about the possibility of designing a palace, but he wanted only small follies, and I require a patron of larger vision. Fortunately, I found one in Prince von Liechtenstein. I am only here to visit my family while the prince is at court.”
“You’re fortunate.” Architectural patrons were not easy to find. Phinn rose. “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.”
Herr Kornhäusel bowed. “For me as well. I rarely find such an astute listener. If you ever find yourself in Liechtenstein, I am very easy to find.”
“Excuse me, Lord Phineas.” An older man bowed. “I understand you and the lady are English.”
“Yes. We are.” Phinn inclined his head.
“I am Count Celje. My wife and I are attending the embassy soirée this evening, and I wished to introduce myself.”
Ah, the father of the spoiled viscount. “A pleasure to meet you. Do you frequent Vienna often?”
The man gave a gruff laugh. “Only when I must. Which is too often for my taste. We are here to collect our son from university.” He heaved a sigh. “Janez is bringing several friends home with him, and we want to ensure nothing untoward occurs on the way home. I must also attend to a family matter.”
Phinn remembered his university days, and knew what kind of trouble young men could get into and none of his friends’ trips home had been nearly as long. “Undoubtedly a wise decision.”
“I should find my wife. I look forward to meeting the rest of your party tonight.”
Augusta joined Phinn as he strolled toward the terrace. “I was told the gentleman to whom you were speaking is a famous architect.”
“Um, yes. He is in the employ of the Prince von Liechtenstein and has invited me to see his buildings if I ever visit that area.” Phinn glanced at her. “Where exactly is Liechtenstein? I’ve heard of it, but I have no idea where it is located.”
“South of Lake Constance.”
That didn’t help. He shook his head.
“South of Stuttgart there is a large lake, Lake Constance. South and east of there lies Liechtenstein. There is no easy way to travel there from here.”
“That settles that. I am unlikely to find myself there any time in the near future.” Or at all. Although the buildings sounded interesting.
“Who was the older gentleman in the green jacket?”
“Count Celje. He and his wife will be at the entertainment this evening.” Phinn tucked her hand in his arm. “He’s Slovenian.”
“His son, Viscount Celje, asked if we were attending the ball tomorrow night.” She’d lowered her voice so that only Phinn could hear her. “When I told him I was, he asked for a dance.”
Hell and damnation! “What did you say?”
She lifted one shoulder. “I told him I would have to ask my guardian. Hopefully, he will forget, or we’ll leave before I have a set free.”
Or the puppy would wait for her and pester her to stand up with him. Phinn would simply have to protect her from any unwanted advances.
When they arrived back at the hotel, a package addressed to Jane awaited them.
“This was sent by the embassy,” Herr Riegert said. “I was asked to see that you received it immediately upon your return.”
“Thank you.” She took the packet. “We shall be down for drinks within the hour.”
He smiled at Augusta. “Minerva and your cat have been waiting for your return. They were on the terrace, but are now out with your servant.”
“I wonder what that means?” Augusta turned a confused face to Phinn.
“I suppose we’ll find out when Durant returns.”
In the end, Phinn discovered what’d been going on from Musson. “After Master Tommy went for his nap, the dog and cat curled up together where they had a view of the front door.” The valet removed Phinn’s coat. “Although sweet is not a term I normally use for anything but food, I must agree with Mrs. Gobert that seeing that huge dog cradling the kitten was sweet.”
“I’d have liked to have seen that.” Phinn changed his pantaloons for breeches, donned a clean shirt, waistcoat, and began to tie his cravat.
“Mayhap they will do it when you are present.” Musson eased on Phinn’s jacket. “Will the dog be able to climb the stairs to the terrace on the boat?”
That was a good question. Minerva wouldn’t stand for being left out. “When the time comes, I’ll figure out something.”
He walked into the courtyard as Jane handed the ladies small pocketbooks covered in gold leaf with a coat of arms stamped in the center surrounded by rubies. A gold tasseled loop and pencil were attached to each one.
“What are they?” He stood next to Augusta as she opened hers.
“Dance cards,” Jane said. “You see the dances for the evening are listed as well as the type of dance and the composer.”
He peered more closely. “Are they all waltzes?”
“Well, there are no Scottish country dances,” Prue remarked drily.
“The third dance is a polonaise.” Augusta pointed at the card.
“Here is a cotillion,” Jane added.
“May I?” He held his hand out to Augusta for the dance card.
“Of course.” She gave it to him.
After reading the whole list—the damned ball must go until the wee hours of the morning—he wrote his name in the space for the first dance, a waltz. Then handed it to Boman. “Put your name down for a set.”
Augusta’s brows arched haughtily and her beautiful, deep pink lips opened, but before she had a chance to chastise him, Addison handed Phinn Jane’s card. “Excellent idea. Lord Stewart has sent a note around asking that he and a Colonel Whitestone be granted one dance each.”
Addison handed Augusta’s card back to her. “Don’t forget to write their names down.” Once all the gentlemen had been added to the cards, he glanced at his wife. “That should take us to midnight. Will you be ready to leave?”
“I shall. It has been an age since I have stayed up that late . . . voluntarily, that is.”
He looked at Prue. “Is it too early for you?”
“Not at all. I’ve been used to country hours.”
Durant came in, being pulled straight to Phinn and Augusta by one determined Great Dane and an equally resolute kitten.
“They’re happy to see you.” The footman removed their leads.
“So I heard.” Augusta cuddled the kitten that’d wasted no time in jumping onto her lap.
Minerva’s tail thumped against the chairs as she demanded attention from Phinn and Augusta before finally settling in her normal place between their seats. She gave him a comfortable smile as if this domestic situation appealed to her. Even more than before, he could see them with children. Much like the scene he had come upon with her sisters and Lady Merton in the square. Young ones toddling around with the Danes and cats watching over them. How much deeper would her feelings be after another week
on the boat?
Soon. She would be his. He could feel it in his bones.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Phinn entered the parlor and Augusta was the only thing he saw. But he had to run the gauntlet of Great Dane and cat before he could get to her. He stroked Minerva’s head, making sure she didn’t rub against his dark blue breeches. Etienne almost succeeded in rubbing against Phinn’s stockings before he gently pushed the kitten away, stroking him as he did. By the time he was done and Durant had taken the animals away, it was time to depart.
Augusta took his arm. “You look quite fine this evening.”
Did he tell her how enchanting she was? “So do you.”
They arrived at the embassy to find the rooms filling rapidly. Most of the guests appeared to be English, and, fortunately, Phinn knew none of them. Which meant that any gossip from Paris about Augusta and him would not have reached here.
Lord Stewart took it upon himself to perform introductions for Phinn and Augusta while his second, Colonel Whitestone, took the rest of their party off.
All went well until a lady who looked to be in her late forties or early fifties approached them, smiling, “Lady Augusta, I am Lady Cartridge. I know your mother.” Then the woman turned her brown gaze on Phinn. “And I know your mother as well. I am sure she is delighted that you have made such an advantageous match.”
Augusta swayed, but her hand was firmly tucked into his arm and he was able to hold her up. At first he couldn’t believe the gossip had spread so far and so fast. They must be using carrier pigeons. Then he remembered the letters his mother and sister-in-law were constantly writing, and mail being sent by diplomatic channels, and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of this possibility before. “Thank you, my lady. I am indeed fortunate.” He would have stopped there, but Augusta had paled alarmingly and seemed to be having difficulty regaining her countenance. He tightened his grip on her. “Lady Augusta and I have a great deal in common and are very happy.”
Her ladyship glanced at Augusta, who’d pasted a smile on her face and none too soon. “I heard your mother and Lady Dorchester are thrilled with the match.”
Augusta took a shallow breath. “They could not be happier.”
Phinn and she would have to discuss this, but Lord Celje came up, escorting an elegant lady some years younger than him. “My lord.” He bowed and looked at the lady. “My dear, allow me to introduce Lord Phineas Carter-Woods to you.” The lady curtseyed. “Lord Phineas, my wife, Lady Celje.”
Phinn bowed and finished the introductions.
Augusta addressed the couple in Slovenian. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
They answered in the same language, and he was happy that he could understand most of it.
“I understand you are traveling to Trieste,” Lady Celje said. “I so wish we were going to be at home so that you could break your journey with us. The inns are not as they are here.”
“It is a shame. I can tell you from personal experience,” Lord Stewart said, “that Lord and Lady Celje have a remarkable castle. I, as well as the colonel and his wife, have stayed with them on occasion.”
“We would have loved to visit you,” Augusta said.
Several of the other guests wished Phinn and Augusta happy on their betrothal, and Augusta maintained composure. He, on the other hand, was not looking forward to the conversation that was sure to follow. At Versailles, he’d forced himself to agree to let her go. Indeed, he vowed he wouldn’t trap her, and he would not. But if there was any way he could keep her with him as his wife, he’d do it.
* * *
All the next day, Augusta had waited for Phinn to say something about the talk that had spread about their betrothal. Yet he hadn’t said a word. Instead, they spent most of the day at the cathedral. Well, if he wasn’t going to say anything, neither was she. The conversation would be awkward at best, and she did not think she could stand another rejection. It was enough that she knew he did not love her. That was probably why he’d not spoken of it.
* * *
The following evening, she wore a primrose silk ball gown with an overskirt of tulle that she’d had made in Paris. She’d had her footman remove the animals before they all met in the parlor, and when she saw Phinn, she was glad she had. Dressed in a black jacket and breeches with a waistcoat embroidered in silver and red, on a gray background, Augusta had never seen him look more handsome and elegant. Animal hair would have ruined the effect.
Bowing, he lifted her fingers to his lips. “You look as if you’re floating.”
Her cheeks heated, and she felt as if she could float. It felt so right taking his arm, as if they truly would have a life together. Just for tonight, and maybe the rest of the journey to Padua, she’d not think about their separate goals. It would break her heart when he left, but surely his family expected him back for the next Season. And she’d have studies that were sure to engross her.
They arrived at the castle before the start of the first dance. The ballroom was over two stories high with painted and gilded arched ceilings. A gallery ran along one end, where the orchestra members were tuning their instruments. Richly embroidered tapestries lined the walls and potted palms were grouped in areas at the bottom of the double-curved staircases and along the sides of the room. As they reached the stairs they were announced.
Shortly after they found a grouping of chairs, and had sent a footman for wine, Viscount Celje strolled up and bowed generally to their party, then to Augusta alone.
“My lady, may I hope you have a dance for me, or should I ask Herr Addison?”
Her smile was tight. They had known this would most likely occur. “I regret that I have no dances left, my lord.”
His eyes widened and he glanced at Hector. “How is this possible?”
“Quite easily.” She hoped her tone was cold enough to discourage the man. “We will depart after the fifth set.”
For a second, Celje appeared shocked, then a polite mask slipped over his face, and he bowed again. “Perhaps another time then.”
The music signaling the first dance began, and Phinn held out his arm. “My dance, I believe?”
“It is.” Placing her fingers on his strong arm, the tension drained from her body. Having made her decision, she let herself enjoy the freedom of being “betrothed.” Last evening none of the unmarried gentlemen had asked to be made known to her, and tonight she could expect the same. Other than the viscount. Perhaps the man hadn’t heard. “I knew this ball was a mistake. If only Jane had not wished to come.”
“The worst of it is over now.” They rose from bowing and curtseying and began to dance. “You can relax. Five sets and we return to the hotel.” Phinn’s firm tone reassured her. No matter what happened, he’d keep her safe.
“I would love to attend a ball and have fun rather than being made to dance with men with whom I do not wish to dance.” She felt as light as a feather in his arms, and she didn’t want him to let go of her.
“There will be no more balls for a while.” He drew her closer as they made the turn, making her feel as if he wanted her in his arms. “We shall attend the concert tomorrow night and depart the following morning.”
“I’ll be glad to be back on the boat.”
“I shall be as well. Count Celje gave me a list of villages and small towns we should visit for a day or so.”
“That sounds like fun.” Part of Augusta wished the barge journey could last forever.
The dance ended all too soon, and her next partner was Boman, while Phinn danced with Prue.
* * *
On their last evening in Vienna, they were invited to use the British Embassy’s box at the concert hall. Augusta was glad they had stayed for the musical. She’d never heard such an excellent performance. The only events marring the evening were visits by English ladies asking when and where she and Phinn would marry.
Fortunately, Jane came to their rescue. “They have not yet decided.”
That, though, reminded Augusta
she would have to write to her mother saying she had broken her betrothal and was remaining in Padua. There, she would live in relative anonymity as a student, and her life would be just as she wished it to be. If only she hadn’t fallen in love with Phinn.
How long does it take to recover from a broken heart?
* * *
The following morning when the boat pushed away from shore, Phinn heaved a sigh of relief. He had never been so happy to leave a city in his life. At the ball, he’d caught the viscount staring at Augusta. Had Celje been following them, or were they simply traveling the same route?
Last night, when the English ladies had queried them on their wedding date, he’d half expected Augusta to roundly deny they were betrothed. Not only had she not demurred, she had yet to say anything to him. And he knew she’d not changed her mind about marriage.
“Will you come help?” Augusta touched his sleeve. “We are trying to convince Minerva to go up the stairs.” Augusta giggled, filling his heart with joy. He wasn’t the only one glad to leave. “Etienne keeps going up the stairs, then looking back down at her as if he is trying to show her how to do it.”
This Phinn had to see. “I think I know a way to get her up.”
When they arrived at the stern, the Dane was stretched as far as she could go on the steps. One back paw hovered near the first tread, the other was firmly planted on the deck. The cat crouched at the top, gazing down at her as if giving encouragement.
Augusta glanced at him, her eyes full of laughter, and that was all it took for him to go into whoops. Unfortunately, it earned him a disdainful look from the cat and one of reproach from the dog.
“Right then, here we go.” Positioning himself behind Minerva, he braced her rear, lifting her so that her back paws could start climbing the steps. Soon her front paws had gained purchase on the roof and the rest followed. He scrambled up after her. “There. Are you happy now?”