by Ella Quinn
Even to her ears, her moans grew louder. “Phinn, Phinn!”
Using his fingers as well as his mouth, he made the tension grow. “Come for me, my love. Come for me.”
Just when she thought she’d splinter apart, her body convulsed and he rose over her and plunged into her, filling her as she had never thought possible. The pain of being stretched warred with the pleasure of her orgasm.
“Are you all right?” His voice was tight.
Opening her eyes, she saw his beautiful silver eyes filled with worry. “I’m fine.”
Augusta’s eyes were a brighter blue and her skin was flushed with passion. She had never been so beautiful. Phinn touched his forehead to her forehead for a moment, then took her mouth as he began to move. “Put your legs around me.”
Once she had done as he’d asked, he increased his pace, willing her to come again. He loved her more and more each time they were together. Just as he was to spill, she cried out, calling his name.
Rolling off her, he held her close, their hearts beating together. “I love you.”
She raised up and kissed him lightly. “I love you too.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and he caressed her. If only they could stay like this forever. Or for another thirty minutes.
The fiddler stopped and a scuffle sounded from the corridor.
Hell and damnation! “We have to get dressed.”
“Sorry, my lady.” Gobert entered the room, one hand over her eyes, the other holding out a robe. “We need the sheet.”
“Drop the wrapper. I’ll be a moment.” Rising, Augusta glanced at the bed. Her eyes widened in shock. “There is no blood.” She gaped at him. “Why is there no blood?”
“There’s no time to discuss this now. Where is a hat pin or a knife?”
Stepping to the desk, she picked up a long, pearl-tipped hat pin. “Here it is.” Returning to the bed, and before he could take the pin from her, she closed her eyes and stabbed her finger. Blood welled up. “Now what do I do?”
This was the tricky part. The blood couldn’t be too strong. “Rub it against your mons, where I entered you.” Once she was done, he grabbed the bottom sheet and rubbed it between her legs. Taking her finger, he pressed lightly, a drop of blood fell onto his cock, then he rubbed it around. A basin of water and a cloth stood behind the screen. Wetting the cloth, he cleaned himself and her before throwing it on the side of the stand. “There. That should do it.”
She picked up her robe and donned it before glancing at him. “You might want to put something on.”
The door to his bedchamber opened, and Musson entered with Phinn’s robe. “My lord.”
“Thank you.” Someone was attempting to gain access from the corridor. He handed Augusta her pistol. “Musson, help me move the dresser if you will.”
“Indeed, my lord.”
No sooner had they pushed it off to the side than the door crashed against the wall. Was that the only way the man knew how to enter a room? Celje stood there breathing heavily.
A maid squeezed around him. “I’ve come for the sheet,” she said in Slovenian. A stricken look crossed her face, and she repeated herself in German. “I must take the sheet.”
Prue marched into the chamber before the maid reached the bed. “Not without one of us coming with you.”
The woman gave the viscount a terrified glance, but Prue didn’t wait for her. Taking hold of the sheets, she ripped them off the bed and pointed at the maid. “There is most likely a rag next to the washbasin. Get it and give it to me as well.”
“Come, my lady. You need to dress.” Gobert pulled Augusta away. “Mr. Addison and Mr. Boman are accompanying Mrs. Brunning.”
Suddenly, Celje crumpled to the floor. Behind him, the countess stood holding a cudgel. Glancing to her side, she said, “Take him to the dungeon and bring me the key.”
A shout sounded from the hall and Count Celje appeared in the corridor. “I came as quickly as I could.” He looked down at his son. “The dungeon is a good place for him. Shackle him as well. He has disgraced our house and deserves no kindness.” Once the viscount had been removed, Lord Celje addressed Phinn and Augusta. “I offer you my most sincere apologies. He will not bother you again. This I vow to you.”
The dowager countess gave Lord Celje a letter, saying, “The Luciana.”
“Yes, indeed, Mama, thank you for thinking of it.” He offered the letter to Phinn. “I have a large yacht in Trieste. It will be much more comfortable than any vessel you could hire. This is a letter for the captain. Please make use of it. I shall also write a letter to the manager of the Hotel Locanda Grande, informing him you will be using our apartments.”
“Once again I apologize for my grandson’s behavior,” her ladyship said.
“I am sorry to say we cannot accept.” Phinn glanced at Lord Celje. “He is a man and responsible for his own actions.”
“You are correct, my lord. Fortunately, there are actions I can and shall take to ensure he learns to behave as a responsible gentleman.”
The dowager inclined her head and one of her men closed the door.
Less than an hour later, Phinn, Augusta, Prue, and Boman rode through the castle gates with the rest of their party following in the coaches.
“I hope never to have to go through anything like that again,” Augusta said.
“I hope it’s the last time I have to go through this type of thing.” Phinn was getting damned tired of other people thinking they could do as they pleased.
Their party arrived at the Hotel Locanda Grande in Trieste in time for dinner.
The four of them entered the hotel. “I am Lord Phineas Carter-Woods.” He handed the clerk at the desk the letter.
“Of course, my lord.” The man bowed. “The chambers will be ready for you momentarily. Do you have anyone accompanying you?”
He gave Addison’s name and discovered he’d already reserved rooms.
“We also need to speak to the captain of a private yacht called the Luciana,” Augusta said.
“Yes, of course. I will have a messenger sent immediately.”
By then, Jane and Addison strolled into the hotel, and Augusta told them the captain had been sent for.
By the time they’d washed and refreshed themselves, Captain Gasparino was shown into the parlor they’d been given. Phinn handed him the missive and waited.
“The wind will not last long. Unless you wish to remain in Trieste for several days, we must depart at daybreak.”
“I am ready to visit Venice,” Jane said.
“As you will.” The captain frowned. “Unfortunately, I do not have the capability of carrying more than one carriage and a pair of horses.”
“I have a ship waiting for us that can transport the cattle and coaches. Have you seen the Eleanor Jane?”
“Yes, sir, but her captain was arrested two days ago. She cannot sail while he is detained.”
“They can if there is a new captain. I’m going to the harbor with you.” Addison gave Jane a short kiss. “Get cleaned up and eat. Then be ready to depart. We’ll sleep on board tonight. It will be easier than rousing everyone tomorrow morning.”
Baiju signaled to the grooms and coachmen. “Come with us. There is sufficient light to load the horses and coaches.”
“I’ll stay with Jane,” Prue said, “and arrange transportation to the docks.”
Phinn and Augusta decided to accompany her cousin. Minerva insisted she was remaining with them as did Etienne. Fortunately, they did not have far to go.
When they reached the Eleanor Jane, Hector called to one of the crewmen. “I’m Addison. Get your first mate out here now.”
A man, no older than Phinn, rushed down the gangway. “Sir. I’m sorry—”
“No need for you to apologize for Griffin. The man’s an idiot. You’re in charge now, Captain. Get the ship ready to load my coaches and cattle. We’ll be sailing on a private yacht at first light and I want you to sail with us.”
As if they had not already dashed across the countryside, events occurred at a dizzying speed after that. Baiju organized the horses and carriages.
Phinn took Captain Gasparino aside for a hushed conversation.
Augusta had not known he spoke Italian, but she should have, knowing the other languages in which he was fluent.
He turned to Hector. “They have sufficient cabins on the yacht for us and our personal servants. The rest will have to make the crossing on the other ship.”
“Very well. Baiju?” The man looked over. “Will you sail with the equipment or with us on the yacht?”
“I’ll remain with the equipment.” He grinned. “With you not sailing on this ship, I will have better quarters.”
* * *
The staterooms and other compartments on the Luciana surpassed Augusta’s expectations. Not that she had much knowledge of yachts. Once they had settled in, she went in search of Prue. There was a question to which Augusta did not have an answer. She found her cousin in the salon, sipping a glass of red wine. No longer fearing succumbing easily to spirits, she poured a glass for herself. “I have a question.”
“I thought you might.” Prue took another sip. “I heard part of what happened.”
“I do not understand what could have happened.” The question had dogged Augusta all day.
“Not all women are born with a maidenhead. Others break them somehow. I once knew a girl who inadvisably decided to ride a half-broken horse. She bled afterward.”
“Oh.” That would explain it. The horse had not been wild, but she’d tried to ride a horse that had been trained only for side-saddle, on a regular saddle. It had not gone well. Her mother had been away, and Louisa had told Augusta she was most likely starting her courses. But she hadn’t bled after that.
“As long as Phinn doesn’t doubt you, and I have no reason to think he does, it’s all well.” Her cousin smiled. “You, both of you, took care of the problem in the most expeditious manner possible.”
“Was that the reason you came in?”
“Partly. The other part was that I had a suspicion that if one of us did not accompany the sheet, it would have disappeared.” Prue raised her glass. “May I say how delighted I am that you are finally married, and to a man who loves you as much as you love him?”
“I wish he would have told me before.” Even as Augusta said the words, she knew it wouldn’t have served. It was the urgency in his voice and eyes that had convinced her.
“After you rejected him?” Her cousin raised one brow. “In that case, my dear, you have a great deal to learn about male pride.” She took a packet out of her reticule. “Before I forget, Jane asked me to give you this. If you truly wish to avoid pregnancy, make a tisane using this herb. She has been using it since she stopped nursing Tommy.”
Augusta took the packet. “What is it?”
“Daucus carota. The common name is Queen Anne’s lace.”
“Thank you.” As happy as Augusta was that Phinn had agreed they could delay having children, he’d conceded that many methods did not work all the time. With luck, the herb would.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Augusta.” Phinn had almost panicked when she wasn’t in their room. Ridiculous, of course. Nothing could happen to her on the yacht. Still, he couldn’t be happy until he was with her again. Striding up to her, he took her in his arms. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She gazed up at him, her beautiful blue eyes shining with her love for him.
All too soon, the rest of their party joined Phinn, Augusta, and Prue in the salon. More than anything, he wanted to take her back to their room and make love to her, slowly and properly this time. But after their hasty coupling this morning, and the long ride to Trieste, he knew she would be too sore. And they were both exhausted. As was everyone else, it seemed, as they agreed to make their way to their staterooms.
Augusta entered their cabin from a small chamber to one side of it. His valet was in a similar room on the other side. Rising, Phinn took her hand and kissed it. “You are the most enchanting woman I know.” As she gazed at him, it was somewhat of a shock to realize it was the same way she’d looked at him for a while now. Since Munich. What a fool he’d been.
“You are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”
It was his turn to blush. “Come to bed. I just want to hold you while we sleep.”
Her lips pinched together. “Is anything wrong?”
Remembering her utter shock and panic this morning, he held her tighter. “Absolutely nothing. But we are both tired, and we have time.”
She curled up next to him, and he slept better than he ever had. When he woke the boat was at sea, the cat was in bed on the other side of Augusta, and Minerva was curled up on the bed at his feet. He’d never seen such a large animal make herself so small. Even without children, they had a family. Augusta sighed in her sleep and snuggled into him. Phinn never thought he’d think of a phrase like his heart was so full. But it was, and it was because of her.
* * *
Several hours later they docked at a port near Venice.
“I have one question,” Phinn said. He and Addison were in the salon looking at a map of Italy. “How were you able to place Griffin in charge of the ship?”
“I’m the majority partner in the company that owns the Eleanor Jane and several other ships.”
Phinn had heard from his brother that Addison had his fingers in several ventures. “That was helpful.”
Addison grinned. “Indeed it was. Now”—he tapped the map—“we are only staying in Venice for a few days before traveling on to Lake Garda in the foothills of the Alps. We’ll return to Venice in September, just before you and Augusta journey to Padua.”
“I’ve heard Venice is not pleasant during the summer months.”
“That’s what I’ve been told as well.” He rolled up the map. “The first stop you and I will make after taking everyone else to the palazzo is to the British Consul. There is a rector assigned there who will look over this document the priest handed me this morning, after you and Augusta sign it. I already have Boman’s and Prue’s signatures as witnesses.”
That was backward, but if it worked, what did it matter? “And if the marriage paper is not accepted?”
“Then we do it again.”
“Augusta and I will add our signatures immediately.”
Once everyone and everything had been taken to the palazzo Addison had leased, the new Captain Griffin led Phinn and Addison to the British Consul in Venice, only to find that with the exception of a clerk, the entire consul had decamped to Lake Garda. Not that Phinn could blame them. The heat was already making the city reek like a sewer.
“Shall we cut our visit short and head to Lake Garda as well?” Phinn asked.
“Give the horses a day or so to rest and we’ll depart.” Addison rubbed his cheek. “I don’t mind telling you I’ll be happy to remain in one place for more than a week or two.”
“As much as I enjoy traveling, I have to agree.”
* * *
Ten days later, they arrived at the villa Hector had rented in Lake Garda. As soon as they’d arrived, Augusta and Phinn had spoken to the consul’s chaplain and ascertained that their marriage was legal in England. After that, she had lost no time writing her family about her marriage. Phinn wrote his brother and mother as well.
One day in late August, the sun was in the west, casting shadows over the valley, while they sipped the dry white wine of the Veneto on a terrace overlooking the lake. A new acquaintance, Count von Eppan, one of the many Austrians in the area, told them of the marriage of a friend’s daughter to the eldest son of the Count of Celje.
“The young man had been resistant to the idea of marrying her at first,” the count said.
“Indeed.” His wife picked up the story. “Apparently he had formed a violent attachment to another lady. But he is now deeply in love with his new wife.”
Phinn, Augusta, and the others in
their party glanced briefly at each other. She wondered what the count and countess would say if they knew it was her. Still, in a strange way, the viscount’s obsession had been what caused her and Phinn to finally admit their love for each other. Who knew how long it would have taken otherwise.
“It is always the way with these young men with a romantic nature.” Count von Eppan drank his wine.
The English, Venetians, and Austrians were a great source of balls and other entertainments. Phinn received quite a lot of good-natured joking about not allowing Augusta to dance with anyone but him, but she had no desire to stand up with a gentleman other than her husband. To her delight, she actually came to enjoy the events.
By early September, Phinn, Augusta, Prue, and Boman, along with their servants, had arrived at her sponsor’s summer house not far from Padua and been offered a commodious town house in Padua near the university. Augusta had the feeling the couple was more than pleased not to have to sponsor her. By the time they were settled, it was still another two weeks before the term began.
One day she and Phinn were strolling in a park near the river. “It’s beautiful, but so empty. Even many of the stores are not open yet.”
“Much like Oxford when the students are gone. Enjoy the peace. When they return, the streets will be worse than London during the Season.”
“I’d like to see it busy.” She wanted to be part of the rush to get to class. “I wrote Professor Angeloni, but even he is not here yet.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Phinn stopped and kissed her. “Patience, sweetheart.”
Less than a week before the term was to begin, she received a stilted letter from Professor Angeloni. “This does not have the same feel as his other letters to me. He says we have a meeting with the university chancellor. What do you suppose it means?”
Phinn shook his head. “Haven’t a clue, but you’ll know soon. The meeting is tomorrow.”
The next day, Augusta, accompanied by her cousin, entered the house that was to have been their home for the next few years. She had rarely been so exasperated and enraged. For men who were supposed to be educated, they were as small-minded as many of the same sex.