by Ella Quinn
The Dane was attempting to wrap herself around him when Augusta arrived. “That was well done. How are you going to get her down?”
“By being in front and giving her encouragement. She wants to be with us too much not to at least try. I just don’t want her hurting herself.”
Once the animals were settled, Augusta resumed teaching Phinn Slovenian.
“Your Slovenian is coming along very well. You must have a facility for languages.” She closed the book.
Not as good as hers. But he had no jealousy. Her mind was one of the reasons he loved her so much. “Either that, or you are an excellent teacher.”
Augusta’s smile deepened and she linked her arm with his. “I have never told you, but I value our friendship.”
Well, that was like the kiss of death. Would she address their “betrothal” now? How many men had watched the woman they loved marry someone else because the lady refused to recognize his intentions for what they were? That was not going to happen to him. Phinn might have to ask permission from her cousin and her footman to kiss her. Durant had been more of a chaperone than had Addison.
Minerva barked.
“I think I need to help her down.”
Thank God for dogs.
* * *
On their second day in Budapest, Jane was silent as she read one of the letters Hector had brought back from the British consul. “As I suspected, news of Augusta and Phinn’s betrothal reached England.” She handed Hector a thick packet of papers. “This is from Matt. It is a revised settlement agreement containing Phinn’s financial information.”
“Blast it all, why couldn’t that blasted French count have kept the information to himself?”
“That would have been too much to expect.” Jane set the letter aside. “I’ll answer Grace when I work out what to say to her.”
Prue strode into the room waiving a missive. “My mother received correspondence from Patience Wolverton informing her about the betrothal. She wants to know what I plan to do now that Augusta will wed.” Prue dropped into a chair. “This has got out of hand.”
“I’m afraid I have to agree.” Boman also with a letter in hand took a chair next to Prue’s. “My mother wants to know when I’ll return to England.”
“I do as well,” Jane said. “But what are we to do about it? I am positive they are in love with each other, but neither one of them will admit it.”
“If Dorchester hadn’t made Phinn vow to go about getting an heir”—at this point, Hector would gladly wring the marquis’s neck—“this problem could be easily resolved.”
“That’s not a problem any longer,” Boman said. “Phinn received a missive telling him it looks like his sister-in-law could have a son, relieving him of his promise.”
“Then what is keeping him from declaring himself to Augusta?” Prue had never sounded so exasperated.
Boman’s eyes widened as if he could not believe what she’d just said. “You must be joking. After the way she rejected him, no sane man would willingly put himself through that again.”
“What did you expect her to do?” Prue poked Boman in the chest. “He would have destroyed all her plans, and he didn’t even love her.”
“Well, he’s fair mad about her now.” He jabbed his finger into the air. “And look where it’s got him. Nowhere.”
“All you have to do is look at the way Augusta gazes at him to know she loves him too, but she is not going to tell him first, and I don’t blame her.” Prue took the top off the teapot, glancing into it before going to the bellpull and jerking it. “How is she supposed to know he’s changed his mind about anything?”
As enlightening as this quarrel was, Hector decided to put a stop to it. “The two of you arguing about this isn’t going to help anything.”
“Someone has to have this discussion,” Boman objected. “They’re not going to.”
“It’s a shame we don’t have bride kidnappings in England,” she mumbled.
Jane sat up sharply. “What did you say?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Prue fluttered her fingers. “One of the maids got married not long ago. Before the ceremony, friends kidnapped her, and her groom had to make concessions if he wished to have her as his wife.”
“That’s our answer,” Jane said. Hector thought he knew where his wife was going with this line of thought, but the other two were clearly confused. “Augusta and Phinn love each other. That is clear. But, due to valid reasons of their own, neither one will tell the other.” Jane glanced at Hector. “Therefore, it stands to reason that their friends and family must assist them.”
He nodded. “Go on.”
“We’ll kidnap Augusta. Boman, you will tell him that if he wants to marry her, he will have to enter into negotiations for her hand.”
“Which include supporting her desire to attend university,” Prue added. “And not having children until afterward.”
“I can almost guarantee you he’ll agree,” Boman said. “In fact, he’ll probably be happy to get it all out.”
“Excellent.” Hector opened the door to a quiet knock. “Let’s celebrate.” He glanced at the hotel’s servant. “Two bottles of white wine.”
“The only question is when will we have the kidnapping?” Boman asked.
“That we’ll have to decide,” Jane responded.
Chapter Thirty-Three
They were roughly two days from Trieste and only about seven miles from Ljubljana, where they would spend the night, when Phinn felt more than heard the rumble of horses. “We need to move off to the side.”
“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Boman glanced over his shoulder at the carriages and held up his hand. “There are too many of them.”
Having decided to ride, Augusta and Prue reined in their horses next to them.
“I heard it too,” Prue said.
“What is it?” Augusta looked at each of them.
“There are a lot of horsemen coming.” The problem was, Phinn didn’t know from which direction they were approaching. “It’s flat enough here we should be able to see them soon.”
“Don’t stop,” Prue said. “Keep going as if nothing is happening. I’ll tell Hector.”
Whirling her horse around, she galloped to the first coach; once it started to move again, she came back. “Whatever it is, we stay together.”
“You’ve been through this before. Phinn was pleased that Augusta didn’t sound afraid. This wasn’t the first time for him and Boman either.
“Yes, during the war.” Her smile was grim. “We were told we’d be safer on this route than the one to Zagreb, but that doesn’t mean there are not highwaymen.”
“There is supposed to be a town ahead of us.” Augusta’s voice was firm, but her horse danced, betraying her nervousness.
“Let’s go.” Boman urged his horse faster. “I just hope we’re not running straight into their arms.”
They’d reached the outskirts of the village, when a group of horsemen, most of them in uniform, arrived. The leader held up his arm and they came to a halt.
“Good afternoon,” Viscount Celje said in German, grinning like a cat that had just caught its prey.
Augusta moved her horse closer to Phinn’s, narrowed her eyes, and in the same language said, “You!”
“Yes.” He bowed. “I was informed that you were traveling this way. My parents were desolate that they could not invite you to stay with us and requested that I do so. My grandmother is here as well.”
“And you required all of these soldiers to extend an invitation.” Her tone made clear that not only was it not a question, but she was not at all happy about it.
“Having private soldiers is quite common in this part of Europe.” Celje shrugged. “I was pleased my parents extended the invitation. It will allow me to get to know you better.”
“Indeed.”
Damn, she sounded like her sister the duchess. Phinn’s chest swelled with pride.
“I, on the other hand, ha
ve no desire to know you better, my lord. Apparently you have not heard that I am already betrothed to the gentleman of my choice.” She lifted one brow and gave him her best haughty look. It was very helpful having a sister who was a duchess.
“A pity.” The viscount glanced at Phinn as if he’d like to get rid of him. “Nevertheless, it is my parents’ invitation.”
Next to him one of Celje’s men, who looked to be the captain of the guard, said in Slovenian, “She does not seem as delighted as you told your grandmother she would be.”
“Be quiet. I don’t believe she is in love with him. I’ve seen them together,” Celje answered in the same language.
She exchanged a look with Phinn, and said in Nahuatl, “Did you understand what they said?”
He nodded. “The grandmother is in charge. Do you think Lord and Lady Celje really invited us?”
“Unfortunately, we do not have the answer to that. It’s possible. They are very nice and like helping English travelers. I do not trust his motives.” Augusta was careful not to say anything that would let the viscount know they were talking about him. “The man next to him is doubting his word.” She quickly reviewed all their options and none of them were good. “If it wasn’t for my cousin, the child, and our personal servants, I would say we ride through them.”
“You’re right. It’s too dangerous.” Phinn’s eyes as good as said he trusted her decision.
Her throat closed with tears of happiness. Yet this was no time to show them. Men always took tears as a weakness.
“Tell me, what language you are speaking,” the viscount demanded.
She opened her eyes wide and gave him an innocent look. “Why, the dialect from our home county in Northumberland.”
Phinn grinned at her. “You don’t come from Northumberland.”
“Neither do you, but some of the dialects there are based on Danish and few outsiders can understand them.”
He shook his head and quietly sniggered. “You are brilliant.”
“If you do not wish to partake of our hospitality,” the viscount said, “please feel free to ride on. However, my grandmother and parents will no doubt be insulted.”
If Lord and Lady Celje had been the ones to extend the offer, they would be insulted. Yet, Augusta could not bring herself to trust the viscount. Still, what harm could he actually cause? She glanced at Phinn. “What do you think?”
“We don’t want to insult nobles of the Austrian Empire.” He heaved a sigh. “We must find out if the invitation is real.”
Augusta raised her chin. “Very well. We will visit your parents’ home.”
The viscount inclined his head. “My grandmother will be pleased.”
“You’re mad if you think your grandmother will believe you have a chance with the English lady,” the captain of the guard said.
“Don’t be a fool. Look at them. They do not look like lovers at all, but like brother and sister.”
“My lord.” The captain bowed his head. “I will apprise her ladyship she will be having visitors.”
Well, drat and blast it all. “I shouldn’t have trusted him at all.”
“Apparently not,” Phinn said drily. “We’ll leave in the morning.”
Prue brought her horse next to Augusta’s and said in Portuguese, “Boman told me what you and Phinn were saying. What did that man just say?”
“He has gone back to the castle to tell the idiot’s grandmother we are coming.”
“Another English dialect?” Celje asked suspiciously.
Prue gazed at him as if he was a fool. “Naturally. I’m from Hertfordshire. You can’t expect me to know Northumberland.”
No one must have been paying attention to the coaches, because Hector came up to them on his horse, and using Punjabi asked, “What’s going on?”
Augusta told him everything that had happened. “If you want to take Jane and Tommy and go to Trieste, I will understand.”
“That’s very kind of you,” he responded sarcastically. “But neither your brother nor Jane will either agree or understand. We do as Prue said and stay together. Aside from that, his father is a great friend to English travelers. We wouldn’t want to insult him.”
“That’s true.” Even though she didn’t trust the look in the viscount’s eyes, he was no more dangerous than Lord Lancelot had been. She turned to the viscount and spoke in German. “In case you are wondering, that was Punjabi. My guardian spent years in India.”
A tick started in Phinn’s jaw. Prue looked away, and Boman dropped his face into his hands. Augusta would be lucky if they all didn’t break out laughing.
“We have wasted enough time.” The viscount gave a signal for his troops to turn around. “Follow me. My grandmother, old woman as she is, will be waiting for us when we arrive.”
“I have the distinct feeling he was trying to make us feel sorry for his grandmother and parents,” Phinn said, using Nahuatl.
“I agree. I have the feeling she will be our savior.”
“I for one am glad our English dialects are so unintelligible.” Prue had again used Portuguese. Her lips were pressed tight, but her eyes sparkled. “I’m also very impressed at how you are handling all of this.”
Augusta was as well. Looking up she saw the castle was visible from the main road and glanced at Phinn riding next to her. “It looks just like an old castle in a fairy tale.”
“The tower has to date from the twelfth century.” He sounded as much in awe as she was.
“How do you know?”
“Do you see how it is made into a wide square with several levels?” She nodded. “The family and their men-at-arms would have all lived in it. We have similar towers in England.”
She caught sight of a large white building farther inside the wall. “Those buildings must have come later.”
No more than twenty minutes later, they entered through a gate that still had a portcullis. She gazed up as they passed under it. “Amazing.”
“The whole thing looks to be in wonderful condition.” He looked around with fascination.
Augusta grinned. Knowing Phinn, he’d be inspecting every part of the castle before they continued their journey.
The dowager Lady Celje, the viscount’s grandmother, met them at the steps to the castle proper. “Welcome.” Her ladyship addressed them in French. “We hope you enjoy your stay with us.”
The coaches came to a halt behind Augusta and Phinn. He swung down from his horse in one fluid motion then came to lift her down. The instant his hands circled her waist she knew she should have dismounted herself. Frissons of pleasure scurried up to her breasts and she wanted him to touch more of her. Beneath her hands, his muscles strained his jacket as he held her for a moment too long before lowering her feet to the ground. Sucking in a breath, she hoped no one noticed her reaction. Phinn gazed down at her, capturing her gaze with his clear gray eyes. And for those seconds, she felt a connection to him she’d never imagined feeling for anyone.
Swallowing, she lowered her eyes, and he released her. The rest of their party was following their hosts into the house. “We should go in as well.”
As their horses were being led away, he offered her his arm. “As you wish.”
The hall was three floors high with an impressive double marble staircase leading to the first floor. Two coats of arms guarded the bottom of the steps. The rest of the hall was plastered and hung with huge tapestries.
“My husband and then my son have added as many modern conveniences as possible,” Lady Celje said. “Yet it refuses to give up its original design.”
“Do you live here year-round?” Augusta thought it must be quite cold in winter.
“No, we have a more modern palace in the town. In summer, it is more comfortable here.” Her ladyship gestured toward the staircase. “Come. You may explore to your heart’s content after you have had an opportunity to change.”
Following Lady Celje up the stairs, Augusta caught a whiff of horse. She’d need to bathe as w
ell. The bedchamber had lead-glass panes in the same diamond shape she’d seen in old Tudor houses. One stood open, giving a beautiful view of the valley and town below.
“I’ve ordered a bath for you, my lady,” Gobert said. “Her ladyship’s maid said tea will be served in an hour.”
“That long?” Augusta’s stomach was already growling.
“I was told fruit and cheese would be prepared and brought to the bedchamber.” Sounds of water being pumped came from across the corridor. They must have a bathing chamber. Her maid started unbuttoning her riding habit. “Do you want to bathe first?”
“I had probably better.” Horses only smelled good when one was in the stables or riding. “Where are Minerva and Etienne?”
“Durant is walking them.”
After bathing and dressing in a muslin gown, Augusta sated her hunger and inspected the large room. Her maid had come through a small door made to look like the papered wall. Two other doors stood on either side of the chamber. Did all the rooms connect? Before she could explore, her cat dashed in and insisted on being picked up. The Dane barked, and a door near her room opened and closed. Phinn must be close by.
A footman came to guide her to the drawing room and when she stepped into the corridor, Phinn waited as well. “I believe we are the last ones to go down. At least, that’s what I think the man said.”
“Your Slovenian has become very good. I’m sure you’re correct.” She took his arm as they were led down the main staircase to a wide terrace at the back of the castle. “This reminds me of France.”
“I have no doubt the castle has been remodeled any number of times over the centuries. Taking ideas from wherever its masters traveled.”
“Lady Celje alluded to that earlier.” The gardens beyond the terrace reached the short way to the wall where red climbing roses hid the stone. She and Phinn were, indeed, the last to arrive. “Are we late?”
“No, dear.” Jane gestured to the place next to her on a sofa. Tommy had got down and was toddling around the terrace. “We did not expect to see you until now.”