Lady August

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Lady August Page 5

by Becky Michaels


  Brooks glared at her back as she left the room. When she was gone, he pulled out his pocket watch, checking the time. It wasn’t even noon. He sighed, closing his eyes and tilting his head until it was touching the back of the settee. Brooks would charge Lord Bolton extra for this—even if he were dead by the time they returned to Linfield.

  Chapter Four

  Their productive school day was over. The girls were far too distracted for any more lessons, no matter how exciting August tried to make them, not to mention August was distracted herself. How could she teach knowing Mr. Brooks was only a floor below them, waiting to whisk her away to some grand country house in Kent.

  He had surprised her that morning, and not just with his sudden appearance and youthful good looks. Brooks surprised her when he played along with the girls, bowing to them, just as he surprised her with his careless attitude toward them when they were upset. He was a man of contradictions, this Mr. Brooks. She wondered what made him that way and what his secrets were. He seemed to grow offended when she accused him of not understanding the girls’ plight, but why?

  She couldn’t be sure. Brooks was stubborn and determined—that much August knew. Three hours had passed when Mrs. Howe came upstairs to the classroom to report that her father’s solicitor was still there.

  August bit her lower lip. She hoped Mr. Dunn wouldn’t stay at the office too late that night. Her employer would talk some sense into Mr. Brooks. August could not possibly leave until he found her replacement, and Mr. Dunn would agree. The girls needed her.

  But when Mrs. Howe reported the news to the classroom, Charlotte groaned. “You should just go with him, Miss Summer. Mrs. Howe and I can tell Father what happened.”

  “He is very handsome, Miss Summer,” Sophie added, nodding as if she had met plenty of handsome men and Brooks was the best one, all despite being only eight. “He will not wait forever, you know.”

  August’s eyes widened, looking from Charlotte to Sophie. “Handsome? What do you two know of handsome men? And what does Mr. Brooks’s attractiveness even signify? He is my father’s solicitor—that’s all.”

  “So you admit it,” Charlotte said, a sly grin playing at her lips. “You think Mr. Brooks is attractive.”

  “Miss Charlotte Dunn!” August exclaimed, causing the two girls to giggle. August glared at them.

  “Shall I set a place for him at the dinner table?” Mrs. Howe asked after the girls had quieted. August turned to the housekeeper. She hadn’t even thought about dinner. It would be rude not to offer him something, especially if he insisted on waiting until Mr. Dunn came home that night.

  “Oh, this is ridiculous!” August exclaimed, quickly standing up, pushing her chair behind her, its legs loudly sliding across the wooden floor. “We will call on Mr. Dunn at his office and be finished with this whole ordeal right away. Will you watch the children?”

  “I want to go see Papa at his office!” Sophie exclaimed before Mrs. Howe could answer.

  “Me too!” Charlotte added.

  Mrs. Howe sighed, putting her hands on her hips as she regarded the two girls, who had already jumped from the table where they did their schoolwork, ready to leave. “I will watch them.”

  Charlotte and Sophie’s shoulders simultaneously drooped. The older girl turned toward August. “But Miss Summer!” she whined.

  “You must wait here, Charlotte. You too, Sophie. I’m afraid this is business for grown-ups.” August headed toward the classroom door. “Behave for Mrs. Howe. I’ll be back soon.”

  * * *

  Brooks sat in the drawing room for what felt like an eternity. There was nothing more to do than sit there and drink lukewarm tea. He had already finished all the small finger sandwiches that the housekeeper brought up to him. Brooks ate them more out of boredom than hunger, though the little pieces of cucumber, cream, and bread were delightful.

  He hardly stopped to eat or rest since leaving Linfield. He wanted to arrive in Portsmouth as soon as possible, paying extra to switch teams and postboys as frequently as he could. But now, the earl would be dead by the time they reached Linfield if the governess did not let go of her ridiculous need to find her replacement. His journey would be for naught.

  But he supposed that didn’t bother her, and perhaps rightfully so. Why should she show any care toward a dying father who abandoned her? And why should she care if he traveled all the way here in a carriage that made him sick? He glanced at his pocket watch to find it was early afternoon. Perhaps he should ring the bell and request a book or a newspaper to help pass the time.

  Instead, he heard someone coming down the stairs, then watched the drawing room door swing open. August stood before him, a tattered red cloak fastened around her neck. A straw bonnet covered her blonde curls. Brooks quickly rose from where he sat, the gentlemanly thing to do whenever a lady entered the room. August watched him suspiciously for a moment, then cleared her throat.

  “I have decided I should take you to Mr. Dunn’s office,” she said. “We can settle this business there.”

  “Very well,” Brooks replied, hiding a smile. He predicted they would depart Portsmouth within the hour. Mr. Dunn would understand the urgency of the earl’s request, even if August stubbornly did not. Brooks followed her outside, replacing his hat on top of his head. The postboy jumped down from the front of the yellow carriage.

  “Where to, sir?” he asked.

  Brooks glanced at August, who looked from the postboy to him. She studied him carefully, as if she was trying to discern if she would be safe alone in the carriage with him. He wanted to tell her she would have no choice very soon, but August turned to face the postboy. “We will walk, thank you. It’s not too far.”

  She took off without him. Luckily, it was easy catching up with her, his long strides covering twice as much distance as hers. When he was beside her again, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Isn’t it inappropriate in your world for a gentleman and a lady to walk alone together?” she asked.

  “My world?” he echoed incredulously.

  “Yes,” she replied, gesturing toward his coat and boots. “Your world where everyone dresses in fine things and knows earls. The exact opposite of Portsmouth.”

  Brooks chuckled. “I am a solicitor, and you are a governess. We are hardly a gentleman and a lady.”

  “You dress and act like a gentleman,” August pointed out.

  Brooks nodded slightly. “Yes, well, my clients are gentlemen. I must convince them to trust me with their sensitive legal issues somehow.”

  “Sensitive legal issues?” August asked, knitting her brow together. The sun was bright that day, illuminating her alabaster skin. Brooks wondered if she knew how she seemed to sparkle in the daylight or if he was the only one who noticed.

  “Yes—such as dropping everything to fetch a client’s illegitimate daughter because her father decided she should have twelve thousand pounds.”

  She turned away, blushing. “I suppose you think I’m very foolish for not going with you right away. You think I should do whatever my father wants because he deigned to leave me such a sum.”

  Brooks didn’t reply. She should know the answer was yes. “Well, there is more to life than money,” she continued. “I value love and family over money. Don’t you?”

  He looked at her, opening his mouth to speak, but he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Brooks wasn’t sure he valued any of those things. “I’m in Portsmouth on an errand for my employer to fetch a stubborn governess that happens to be his daughter,” he eventually said through gritted teeth. “With that knowledge alone, surely you must know I value money above all else.”

  She made a sound of annoyance before walking on in silence. Looking around, Brooks wasn’t quite sure what kept her tied to this place, for being the hired help for two young girls was not the same as having love or a family. He had never been to Portsmouth before, but as they moved away from the residential area where the Dunns resided, he became less and less impressed wit
h the place. The streets were dirty and crowded with unruly sailors, and the air reeked of saltwater and fish.

  A stranger plowed into August’s shoulder, knocking her backward. Brooks gently held her by the waist, steadying her, but his touch seemed worse than a stranger’s to her. She quickly maneuvered out of his grip and moved onward, leaving him to trail behind her. Irritated, he looked over her head down the busy street, hoping they would be at Mr. Dunn’s office soon.

  “Here we are,” she finally said, stopping in front of a brick building and opening the door. Brooks followed her inside, finding a man in his thirties sitting at a desk. He looked up from his papers, his spectacles nearly falling off his nose when he did.

  “Miss Summer!” he exclaimed, surprised, rising from behind the desk. “What are you doing here? Are the girls all right?”

  “Quite all right, Mr. Wilson,” August replied, smiling. The man sighed with relief. “The girls aren’t the reason for my visit.”

  She glanced behind her at Brooks, whose gaze remained fixated on Mr. Wilson. He had the beginnings of a paunch and was balding slightly. The man didn’t even seem to notice Brooks standing behind August, too busy admiring the young girl despite the wedding ring on his left hand. Brooks didn’t know why, but the observation made him bristle.

  “Mr. Brooks traveled very far—from Kent, actually—for an urgent audience with Mr. Dunn,” August explained, turning back to Mr. Wilson. The man, who must have been Dunn’s secretary, finally tore his eyes away from August long enough to look at Brooks. “I agreed to show him the way to his office.”

  Mr. Wilson narrowed his eyes at Brooks suspiciously. Brooks ignored him, gesturing toward the door in the back of the room with Mr. Dunn’s name on it. “May I?” he asked.

  But it was a pointless question. Before the man could answer, Brooks impatiently went around August and walked toward Mr. Dunn’s office door. Mr. Wilson tried to stop him, but Brooks pulled the door open anyway, stepping inside. The man he could only assume to be Mr. Dunn looked up from his desk.

  August somehow slid inside the room, standing in between the two men. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Dunn!” she exclaimed. August gestured toward Brooks, who studied her employer carefully. He was an attractive man in his early forties. Unlike his secretary, he had a full head of hair, a fine set of teeth, and what appeared to be a firm chest and stomach underneath his vest and shirt.

  “August!” he said, rising from his desk, looking from his governess to Brooks to his secretary behind them. “What are you doing here? Are the girls all right?”

  “The girls are fine,” August said quickly. She turned back to Mr. Wilson. “If you could give us a moment, please.”

  She ushered the secretary, who was reluctant to go, out of the small office and closed the door, leaving August, Brooks, and Mr. Dunn alone. As he looked at the merchant, Brooks’s suspicions began to grow.

  Love. Family. That’s what August said she valued. Had something untoward developed between the governess and her employer? Something that kept August here rather than coming with him to meet her father? Suddenly, things started to make much more sense.

  Well, if he had to be the one to put an end to it, he would. Brooks removed his hat. “I apologize for barging into your office like this, Mr. Dunn,” he said, bowing slightly. “I’m afraid the matter is urgent.”

  “Urgent?” Mr. Dunn echoed incredulously, sitting back down behind his desk. He glanced at August. “Who is this man? What is he talking about?”

  Brooks responded before August could answer, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of Mr. Dunn’s desk. “I am Samuel Brooks. You may recall I was the one who answered your advertisement for a governess, recommending Miss Summer as a suitable candidate.”

  Mr. Dunn nodded, watching August as she sat down beside Brooks. “Yes, I remember now. You were that solicitor from London. What are you doing here in Portsmouth?”

  Brooks explained everything—that August was the Earl of Bolton’s daughter, that the man’s only wish was to meet her before he died, and that August would inherit a large sum of money once he did.

  “A large sum of money?” Mr. Dunn asked, looking from Brooks to August.

  Brooks stiffened. He hadn’t said the exact amount because he didn’t want the merchant getting any ideas. August’s father wanted her out in London society, where she could make a more appropriate match. A widower merchant with two daughters from Portsmouth was far from a suitable husband for a twenty-year-old lady with twelve thousand pounds, no matter what sort of seductive spell this devious man cast on her.

  “That’s right,” August replied. “My father wishes to leave me twelve thousand pounds.”

  “Twelve thousand pounds?” Mr. Dunn practically shouted. He looked from August to Brooks with wide eyes. “Is this true?”

  Hesitantly, Brooks nodded. Mr. Dunn exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. He stared at some indeterminate object on the ceiling.

  “I told Miss Summer we must leave at once to make it back to Kent before her father dies,” Brooks said. He glanced at August, who narrowed her eyes at him in a defiant matter, almost daring him to continue. He turned back to Mr. Dunn. “But she says she will not leave until you find her replacement. Please, you must talk some sense into her. I’m afraid if she defies the earl, he will disinherit her as quickly as he decided to leave her twelve thousand pounds.”

  Mr. Dunn tilted his head as he looked at August, appearing confused. Brooks smiled happily. “I cannot leave until I know the girls are in capable hands,” she explained quietly, turning pale.

  “Ridiculous,” her employer said at once. “Mrs. Howe and I are more than capable. I’m sure we can more than manage while we search for a new governess.”

  “But Mr. Dunn—”

  “Mr. Brooks is right, August,” he said, this time standing up. Brooks bristled at the mention of Miss Summer’s Christian name. He looked from the governess to her employer, who was gathering his things as if to leave. “You have been given a great gift. You must not waste it or risk angering your father.”

  August remained unmoved as Brooks rose from his seat, readying himself to quit the office like Mr. Dunn was. “I will take the afternoon to see you off. Do the girls know?”

  August nodded slightly.

  “Good,” Mr. Dunn said with a single, firm nod. He paused for a moment, appearing as if he were thinking deeply. “They will be upset, of course, but you will write them, won’t you? They will like that.”

  August looked up at her employer, mouth slightly open. Then, she nodded. “Of course, Mr. Dunn.”

  Brooks extended his gloved hand toward August. She looked at it, then at his face to glare at him. She stood up without his help, swiftly moving toward the door and opening it, leaving Brooks and Mr. Dunn by themselves.

  “You will look after her, won’t you?” Mr. Dunn asked. Brooks turned to him, perplexed, not sure what he meant. He only wished to bring her to Linfield and leave her there for the earl and Charles to handle. “Kent is a long way, I mean, and my girls adore her. They will be waiting for her letter declaring her safe arrival.”

  Brooks nodded, his lips pursed, still slightly suspicious of the relationship between the merchant and his governess, though Mr. Dunn seemed to release her from her position quite willingly. He was probably only imagining things.

  “Of course, Mr. Dunn,” Brooks said. He gestured toward the open office door. “Shall we?”

  Chapter Five

  August walked back toward High Street with Brooks and Mr. Dunn in a sort of daze. She didn’t know why she thought Mr. Dunn would want her to stay on as long as possible. August was just another employee to him, easily replaced. Brooks must have thought she was so foolish!

  When August first arrived at High Street almost three years ago, she didn’t know what to expect, but after living in an orphanage and then Hardbury, she knew the only thing to do was try and make the best of whatever situation prese
nted itself to her. She never had a real family, but she was always happy to make one with the people who surrounded her.

  At Hardbury, Jane was like a little sister, and Mrs. Thorpe was like a mother. In Portsmouth, her two young charges became like sisters too, and Mrs. Howe was as beloved as an aunt would be. As for Mr. Dunn, he was the closest thing she ever had to a father figure, despite his long hours at the office, but he seemed eager to be rid of her now.

  She glanced at Mr. Brooks, who walked beside her, a smug look on his face. She glared at him without him knowing. He couldn’t possibly understand what it was like to be sent around from place to place with no real home or family, all at the whim of some earl she never met.

  In the end, her things were packed into a small trunk and placed on the back of Mr. Brooks’s post chaise. Mr. Dunn, Mrs. Howe, Charlotte, and Sophie stood in a line in front of the house. She looked up at its white façade, admiring it. She remembered how regal it first appeared to her upon arriving in Portsmouth. It would probably pale in comparison to Linfield Hall.

  August approached the girls first, kneeling on the sidewalk to make herself eye level with them. They said their goodbyes, and August hugged them one by one, then both at the same time, squeezing them very tightly. Sophie openly cried while Charlotte did her best to appear stoic.

  “I will send you both a letter as soon as I’m settled,” August said. She had grown accustomed to sending letters to her make-believe family members. Jane received one once a week, Mrs. Thorpe once a month.

  “Can we come to visit you?” Sophie asked hopefully.

  August smiled at her. “Maybe when you’re older,” she said, standing up again. She turned to Mrs. Howe next, who she embraced, then to Mr. Dunn. “Thank you for everything, Mr. Dunn.”

 

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