Believe in Me

by Ella Quinn

  Her ladyship poured tea and her grandson handed around plates.

  “Lady Celje thought you and Lord Phineas might like to explore the castle tomorrow. Therefore, we’ve decided to remain until the day after,” Jane said.

  “Thank you. We are extremely interested in the structures and grounds.” Augusta was thankful that after helping his grandmother with tea the viscount had taken himself off.

  A priest, about the same age as Count Celje, joined them. “Lady Augusta, Mrs. Addison, and Mrs. Brunning, please allow me to introduce my brother-in-law, Father Christophe,” her ladyship said. “He is our castle priest.”

  Father Christophe gave a courtly bow. “It is always a pleasure to have visitors at the castle.”

  His lordship introduced the men next. The butler arrived with three footmen carrying large trays.

  Phinn took the seat on the other side of Augusta. “That looks like apricot marmalade.”

  She picked up a spoon and tasted the confection. “It is, and it’s delicious. I’ve never seen any of these foods. I wish I could taste them all.”

  “Let’s share.” He broke off a piece of cake and held it out to her.

  That was the one thing even Walter refused to do. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. There are at least ten different sweets and savories. If you do not wish to ruin your dinner, it’s the only way.”

  She took the cake. “Thank you.”

  “Excuse me, my lady,” Father Christophe said. “I have been given to understand that you and Lord Phineas are betrothed. Have you decided when you will wed?”

  Augusta thanked God she’d just swallowed the sip of tea. “No. We . . . we, er . . .”

  “We have not made any plans yet,” Phinn said.

  “Do you intend to wait until you return home?”

  “No.” Augusta couldn’t get the word out fast enough.

  “In that case, allow me to recommend this castle. The chapel is beautiful and said to bring good luck.” The priest smiled. “There is no need to answer me now. Think about it.” Father Christophe bowed before entering the house.

  Phinn touched her hand. “It will all be fine.”

  Except it wouldn’t. She wanted to attend university and have him. And she couldn’t.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Well, hell! Phinn wished the priest hadn’t said anything. He’d like nothing better than to marry Augusta tomorrow. The last letter he’d received from his brother had effectively released Phinn from having children as immediately as possible. Helen was, indeed, pregnant again, and Dorchester hoped for an heir. The whole process was a mystery to Phinn, but apparently, she was carrying much differently than she had with the girls. Would that be enough to bring Augusta around?

  He’d have to figure out a way to tell her he loved her and hope she didn’t reject him again. Yet, this time he did love her, and he could promise she could attend university.

  Lady Celje rose. “If you are finished with tea, I would like to show you my solar. It’s beautiful at this time of day.”

  They were shown to Lady Celje’s solar where Augusta, Phinn, Addison, and Jane were served wine.

  Lady Celje drank half her glass and filled it up again. “I regret to have to inform you that your visit was my grandson’s idea,” she said in excellent English. “My servants are guarding this chamber to ensure he does not hear of our conversation.”

  Hell and the devil! It was like a medieval tale. Phinn exchanged a look with Addison.

  “We were stopped on the road to Trieste, where we have a ship waiting to take us to Venice.” Augusta took a sip of wine and swallowed. “I do not know what Viscount Celje has planned, but I can guess. What he refuses to understand is that I am betrothed to Lord Phineas.”

  She glanced at Phinn, and he took up the story. “It is a match our families have desired for a very long time.” At least since he’d returned from Mexico. Damn, he might as well say it. “I can assure you I am deeply in love with Lady Augusta.”

  She stared at him for a brief moment, but he couldn’t work out what she was thinking. “And I with Lord Phineas.”

  Her ladyship nodded sharply. “My grandson is an idealistic fool. He saw Lady Augusta in Paris and decided he was in love. You will forgive me, but this is what comes of reading romantic poetry.” Phinn had been right. Viscount Celje had been following them. “His father has arranged a perfectly good match for him. You are in no danger of falling for his charms. Therefore, I shall serve you an excellent meal this evening. You shall have a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow you will be on your way.” She held up her wineglass, and they did the same. “Here is to your continued journey.” They could all agree with that. “There is no reason to come to the dining room. I will arrange to have your meal served here.” Her ladyship rose. “There are not sufficient bedchambers for all of you and your servants.” He didn’t believe that at all. She nodded to Augusta. “You and Mrs. Brunning will share a room. Your lady’s maid’s bed is in a room off that chamber. Lord Phineas, you and your secretary have the bedroom next to that of Lady Augusta. Mr. Addison, you and your lady are on the other side of Lady Augusta. Your child and nurse have the chamber on the other side. There is a door connecting the rooms.” She inclined her head. “I wish you a pleasant evening.”

  She didn’t mention either his valet or Jane’s maid, but Phinn assumed their bedchambers had dressing rooms as well.

  “Well”—Jane turned to all of them—“I feel as if I am in one of Mrs. . . . oh, how could I forget her name! In any event, a gothic romance story.”

  “I know what you mean. I must say I greatly prefer Miss Austen’s plots.” Augusta pursed her lips for a moment. “I think we should continue to use other languages. One never knows when we are being spied upon.”

  “I agree.” Phinn had been struck by her ladyship’s pronouncement that her people were keeping guard. “We will be much safer.”

  “I understand your caution.” Jane gave them a chagrined look. “The problem is, I have only French, German, and some Italian. I am afraid that will not be helpful.”

  “Don’t worry, my dear.” Addison put his arm around her. “I taught Augusta Punjabi a few years ago. All you have to do is be beautiful and smile.”

  Jane punched him in the arm. “You, sir, will pay for that.”

  “Yes.” He gave her a warm expression and chuckled. “I imagine I shall.”

  A few minutes later, Tommy and the animals were brought in. Phinn was pleased that even though Minerva greeted Augusta first, she came to him. Still, the Dane needed to be ready to protect her.

  He stroked the dog’s head and whispered, “You must stay with Augusta tonight.” She leaned her head on his knee and gazed up at him. Clearly the dog didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.

  They picked through what was probably an excellent meal, before retiring to their own chambers. The walls of the room he was sharing with his secretary were paneled and plastered. Most likely, over the original stone. Two doors were set into the walls, one on each side of the chamber.

  Musson entered the room from one of them. “I have been allotted a small bedchamber off the dressing room.” He surveyed the room. “I only unpacked your night kit, my lord.”

  “Good man.” Phinn glanced at the other door. “Do you happen to know where that door leads?”

  “Indeed, my lord. Lady Augusta and Mrs. Brunning’s room is on the other side.”

  Minerva, who had insisted on coming with Phinn, went over to the door and sniffed. Apparently satisfied, she lay down in front of the door.

  “Is it locked?” There was no point having a room next to Augusta’s if he couldn’t get to her in the event she needed him.

  Musson went to the door, presumably to assure himself that no key was in the door—why did people do that?—then began searching a desk against the wall. He held up a key. “Perhaps this will work.”

  Silently, he slid the key in and turned it. “Yes, this is the one.�
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  “Leave it in the lock,” Phinn instructed. “I don’t want to have to go looking for it if it is needed.”

  Musson backed away as if he’d been tempted to take it out but was determined to disregard his instincts.

  “Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.” Phinn had no idea what would happen tonight, but he was sure something would. He didn’t trust the viscount. The man was as knocked-in-the-cradle as Lord Lancelot. Unfortunately, Celje had armed men and a walled castle. He’d probably even read the book Jane had mentioned. Phinn rubbed the back of his head. Jane was right; the situation was too fantastical.

  “As you wish, my lord.” Musson retired to either the dressing room or his bedchamber.

  “Damn if I wouldn’t like a bottle of brandy.” Boman rubbed his forehead from his nose to his hairline.

  That was strange. “You barely touch spirits.”

  “It’s this whole situation. I feel as if I’ve been cast back to medieval times.” He opened the stained glass window and glanced out. “It’s a long way down.”

  “I can’t disagree with you there. If it wouldn’t cause problems, I’d have the ladies sleep in here. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept on a stone floor. At least this one has a carpet.”

  “We could let them know the door is unlocked.” Boman’s brows drew up, wrinkling his forehead.

  “Excellent idea.” Phinn went to the door, turned the lock, and knocked. “Augusta, Prue, if you need us, the door will remain unlocked.”

  Shuffling sounded on the other side of the door. “Thank you.”

  Augusta. He’d recognize her voice anywhere. “If anything happens, just open the door.”

  “We shall leave it ajar, if you don’t mind,” Prue said. “I know what the countess said, but I cannot be easy.”

  Well, that made at least three of them. He picked up his pistol and made sure it was loaded.

  “Neither am I,” Augusta said. Very well, four, Phinn thought. “He lied to his grandmother.”

  “Some people have no sense.” Phinn had learned at an early age never to be untruthful to his grandmother. It was a much greater sin than lying to one’s parents.

  “Or sense of shame.”

  That too. “Good night.” By this time he was pressed up against the wall next to the door. He’d sleep there if Minerva hadn’t already claimed the spot.

  He imagined Etienne curled up against Augusta. Right where Phinn wanted to be.

  “Good night to you. I do not think I shall sleep a wink.” The door pushed in just a bit more, and a pattering of feet fled across the floor.

  “Good night.” My love. Soon he’d tell her how he felt and how much he needed her in his life.

  “This is a fine mess.” Boman placed his pistol on a table next to the bed, before lying down fully clothed, his hands behind his head.

  “We must have been followed from Budapest.” That was the only way the viscount could have known to a nicety where they were.

  “That’s what I think as well.” Why the devil hadn’t Phinn thought to post some of the outriders behind them?

  “The question is, will Lady Celje be true to her word?”

  “I believe she will try.” However, short of drugging her grandson, he didn’t know how she’d manage him. “Get some sleep. I’ll take the second watch.”

  Boman grunted. “You sleep first. I’m not that tired.”

  Shortly before dawn, Minerva began a low growl, then Etienne jumped onto Phinn’s chest, before dashing back into Augusta’s bedchamber. Phinn reached over to Boman, but he was already out of bed, pulling on his boots.

  “Hell.” Why couldn’t the bounder have listened to his grandmother?

  A shot echoed and someone screamed.

  Augusta!

  * * *

  It was still dark when Etienne pounced on Augusta’s chest and chirped. He’d never done that before. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all. “What?”

  “Footsteps.” Prue threw Augusta her robe, as the dog began to growl softly. “I locked the door.”

  The cat flew across the room toward Phinn’s chamber. That was good. She did not want him harmed. Donning her robe, she slid her pistol from under the pillow and joined Prue. “What is taking them so long?”

  “They don’t want to wake anyone else.”

  The lock clicked, a light shone first, then the door opened fully. Augusta pointed her weapon at the door. She doubted it was the countess, so she spoke in German. “Halt or I shall shoot.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Celje scoffed. “This is merely a bride kidnapping. It is a wedding tradition in my country.” He swaggered into the bedchamber. “It is important for a man to be able to rescue his bride.”

  She didn’t doubt that at all, but Augusta knew he had no intention of returning her or making it easy for Phinn to find her. Blast it all, if she was going to be married it would be to Phinn or no one.

  She waited as light brightened the bedchamber. The viscount was dressed for traveling. Shifting the pistol, she leveled it at him. “Come no closer.” If he was going to act as if they were characters in a book, she could too. “I will shoot.”

  Holding out his arms, he smiled. “No lady would shoot a gentleman coming to rescue her from a loveless marriage.”

  For a moment Augusta’s jaw dropped. What arrogance. The man was worse than Lord Lancelot. Celje definitely needed to be taught not to argue with a lady. She clamped her mouth shut, aimed at his arm, and fired the pistol. Celje screamed. Smoke drifted up from the gun. Minerva, who’d been in the doorway growling, lunged at the cur, knocking him to the floor. Celje drew one arm back as if to punch the dog, but Etienne sprang forward, sinking his front claws into the man’s hand.

  “What the . . .” Before she knew it, Phinn was next to her. “Augusta?”

  “I shot him.” She turned her head and looked him in the eyes. What is it about my family? “He was going to kidnap me. I will not allow that to happen.”

  Hector had run in from the other door. “What the devil is going on here?”

  “Well, this wasn’t how we’d planned it.” Prue, mumbled, still holding a large pistol leveled at the intruders. Someone was shouting in the corridor. Blood poured down the viscount’s arm and hand. The viscount’s screams had become raw sobs.

  One of the viscount’s men glanced at Augusta. “May we take him, please?”

  “Minerva, Etienne, to me.” She was delighted to see that both animals obeyed immediately.

  “Minerva’s growling woke me. Just to make sure I was up, the cat pounced on my chest. I should have slept in my clothes.” Phinn put his arm around her. Her scantily dressed body soaked in his heat. She wanted to turn into him, and have him hold her. “That is a single-shot pistol, sweetheart.” Sweetheart? Did he mean to call her that? “Give it to me and Boman will reload it.”

  Augusta nodded and he took the pistol. True to his word, seconds later he gave it back to her. “We must prepare to leave.”

  “Yes.” He turned. “Musson, get our kit ready. We’re going as soon as it’s light.”

  She wanted to depart now, but he was right. The winding road to the castle was too dangerous to travel in the dark.

  “I have had enough of your foolishness.” Lady Celje’s voice echoed from the corridor. “Gal, send for the doctor.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Lady Celje entered the room dressed in a colorful and elaborately embroidered robe. “I am sorry for my grandson’s behavior.” For a scant moment she looked exhausted, but recovered immediately. “He will be in his chambers until the doctor arrives and treats him. If he bothers you again, I will lock him in the dungeon until my son arrives.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Augusta managed a small smile. “I should probably apologize for shooting your grandson, but I cannot.”

  “You should not.” Her ladyship’s lips rose into a smile. “I think it did him a great deal of good to have his actions result in immediate consequences.
Aside from that, unless you had accepted the offer to marry here, it was not the time for a wedding kidnapping.”

  Phinn had no idea what Lady Celje was talking about. “What is a wedding kidnapping?”

  “It is an old custom, but these days, its purpose is to make the groom pay a price for a bride or give her concessions.”

  Addison gave Phinn a long look. “I think there are times when it could be a very good idea. Jane, my love, we have done all we can here.”

  “Yes, of course.” Jane—when had she arrived?—touched Prue’s arm. “Will you come with us?”

  “Ah, yes.” She closed the door between the rooms.

  This was it then. It was time for him to tell Augusta he loved her and beg her to marry him.

  “We should never have pretended to be betrothed.” She left his side, strode halfway across the room, turned and faced him. “Look what has come of it.”

  Phinn had never met such a stubborn female. Nor one who was so intrepid, intelligent, or beautiful. He ambled toward her, and she took a step back. “I’d like to make you an offer.”

  Despite the retreat, she stood as straight and assured as if she were in a ballroom, not in a bedroom with nothing between them but a nightgown and a robe. “What?”

  “Marry me in truth.” He continued to stroll forward and she continued to withdraw. Her back hit the tapestry-covered wall. “Augusta, I love you.”

  “No.” She shook her head. Curls escaped the loose braid. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers through her sable hair. “You just said that.”

  “I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out.” He dragged a hand down his face. Had he been so incompetent in showing his regard for her that she truly didn’t know?

  Her hands went to her hips. “If it’s true, why did you not tell me?”

  “I just did.” His voice echoed in the chamber and he took a breath. Shouting wouldn’t help. “You were the one who told me that I didn’t love you because I wasn’t acting like a man in love. Well, I’m not sure what you were waiting for me to do, but I do love you.” He reached out to her, but let his hand fall.