Believe in Me (The Worthingtons #6)

by Ella Quinn

“I’m looking forward to it. From what little I saw”—very little—“she is an excellent whip.” At least he assumed she would be.

  “Yes,” Dorchester murmured. “Neither Worthington nor Wolverton have reputations for being stupid men. If she was given a high-perched phaeton, one must assume she knows how to safely tool it.”

  “I suppose you are correct, my dear.” Helen placed her hand on Dorchester’s arm. “Both Lady Kenilworth and the duchess know how to drive a sporting carriage.” She glanced at Phinn. “Are there any other ladies with whom you would like to dance?”

  “No.” After spending time with Lady Augusta, any other female would bore him to death. “To be honest, I am ready to go home.”

  Unfortunately, Helen was not finished with her inquiries. Once they were seated in the coach, she said, “You and Lady Augusta seemed to have a great deal to discuss, and it was clear the conversation did not revolve around the weather.”

  “She is remarkable.” And unlike any other female Phinn had ever met. “Did you know she is a polyglot?”

  The carriage lighting was just bright enough that he could see his sister-in-law’s forehead crease and a line form between her brows. “What is a polyglot?”

  “She speaks multiple languages. She can also read Egyptian hieroglyphics.”

  “Are they the squiggly lines carved into the tombs?” Helen sounded as if she was suspicious about something.

  “Er, yes.” Her eyes narrowed. What the devil was wrong? “It was the written language of the time.”

  Helen’s lips flattened unbecomingly. “Her mother swore to me that Lady Augusta was not a bluestocking.”

  “Oh.” Phinn had to think about that. Most of the ladies he’d met who were known bluestockings were nothing like Lady Augusta. Unlike her, they dressed in boring gowns as if they didn’t care how they appeared. Lady Augusta had shimmered in a blue dress that was cut just low enough that the swell of her breasts rose tantalizingly from her bodice. Bluestockings didn’t seem to smile much either. He definitely knew none of them had made his cock start to harden. Helen was still awaiting his response. “I do not believe she could properly be called a bluestocking. She is merely very intelligent and has been given the opportunity to use her talents.”

  Dorchester gave him a look as if to say he knew Phinn was shamming it.

  “I suppose . . . well, I suppose you have a point,” Helen said, obviously confused.

  His brother glanced at the carriage roof and shook his head while Phinn kept his lips firmly pressed together so he wouldn’t enrage Helen by laughing.

  “I did think you had missed your opportunity to dance with her when Lytton got Clementina Drummond-Burrell to recommend him to Lady Augusta for the first waltz.”

  Obviously, this conversation was not over, and the whole evening was going to be discussed. “Lady Augusta was not impressed by him. I believe she found his conversation lacking.”

  “I do not know him well, but he is an earl looking for a wife.”

  Phinn supposed that was meant to inform him that he had competition for Augusta.

  Lytton could be an earl ten times over, and Phinn doubted Lady Augusta would want the coxcomb.

  “As Phinn says, my dear”—Dorchester patted Helen’s hand—“I do not believe you have anything about which to be concerned. Lady Augusta appears to be the same type of female as the other ladies in her family. I do not think rank will sway her.”

  “That is all well and good, but her sister did marry a duke.” Helen’s tone managed to be both acerbic and sarcastic at the same time. “And her sister by marriage married a marquis.”

  Phinn agreed with his brother. Still, there was something about Lady Augusta’s behavior that made him wonder what it would take to convince her to wed a fellow. And it was those kinds of thoughts that got a fellow who did not wish to wed in trouble. He’d have to walk a fine line between having a pleasant time conversing with Lady Augusta and allowing his feelings to grow.

  Chapter Seven

  The next afternoon, Phinn arrived at Worthington House promptly at five o’clock prepared to wait. Surprisingly, Augusta, who looked like spring and sunshine in a yellow carriage gown embroidered with flowers and topped with a spencer that hugged her breasts, was pulling on her gloves when he was admitted to the house.

  “My lady.” He bowed.

  “My lord.” The butler kept the door open. “Shall we depart?”

  Rather than taking his arm, she strode straight to the phaeton, and he had to lengthen his stride to get to the vehicle before she did. “Allow me to help you up.”

  “Thank you.” She held out her hand, obviously expecting him to take it. Instead, he clasped his hands on her waist. His palms warmed against the indentation of her waist and swell of her hips. He sucked in a sharp breath. Short stays then. A man ought to have been warned. This wasn’t helping him at all. He wanted to forget the carriage ride, press his body against hers, and plunder.

  Lady Augusta had stilled, her breathing grew rapid, and her eyes widened. Phinn lost no time lifting her to the seat.

  What the hell had he been thinking?

  Without a word, he went around the phaeton and climbed onto the bench. She gave the pair their office and they started smartly out of the square. As he’d expected, she drove the carriage well. Yet, the way she stared straight ahead made him feel she was ignoring him. Not that he could blame her, but they couldn’t go on like this in silence. He debated apologizing to her, but that might make things even more awkward. The other problem with that idea was that he wasn’t a bit sorry.

  He tried to stick his finger between his neck and cravat, but his gloves were too thick. “You drive extremely well.”

  Lady Augusta threw him a quick smile. “Thank you. It occurred to me that as am I, you are new to a London Season.”

  Ah, it was to be small talk. After the attraction that flared between them, he couldn’t really blame her. “I am. I didn’t spend much time in London before sailing for Mexico. I was more interested in wandering around Scotland and Wales, studying the old castles.”

  “That must have been fascinating.” Her tone was wistful. She probably hadn’t even been allowed to go with a group on a hiking trip in the Lake District.

  It struck him forcefully how constrained young ladies were in their lives. “It was.” They’d reached the Park, and she turned into the gate. “I’d forgotten how crowded it was this time of day.”

  That made her smile. “I think all of Polite Society is here.”

  They each nodded to people they knew. Lord Bottomley, riding a fine-looking bay, came up to them. “Lady Augusta, Carter-Woods, good day.” Phinn had known the man in school. He had nothing against Bottomley. Phinn just wished he’d go away.

  He and Augusta returned the man’s greeting. “I say, Lady Augusta, is this your rig?”

  “It is.” She was clearly proud of the carriage, as she should be.

  “Phinn,” Bottomley said, “why don’t you get down and hold my horse while I take a ride with Lady Augusta?”

  “Why don’t I stay exactly where I am,” Phinn shot back. “If you wish to drive with Lady Augusta, you may make your own arrangements.” He glanced at Augusta, who looked a bit bemused. “Shall we drive on, my lady?”

  “Wait,” Bottomley said as the carriage moved forward. “I would like to ask if you would accompany me tomorrow.”

  “Sorry, Bottomley,” Phinn replied. “I believe I have another engagement.”

  For a moment, the other man seemed to be at point non plus. Then he urged his horse to a trot, caught up with them, and bellowed, “Not you, you dunderhead. Lady Augusta.”

  A giggle burst from her lush, deep pink lips.

  Ahead of them was a landau carrying four older ladies. “Lord Bottomley,” a woman with several large feathers in her hat said. “What are you about, making a scene? Behave yourself.” His face flushed bright red. Augusta pressed her lips firmly together, but they were twitching so hard Phinn didn�
��t think she could keep her laughter in for long, and he wondered who the older lady was. Then the woman turned her attention to him. “Lord Phineas, I have not seen you since you were a child.”

  “Lady Bellamny,” Augusta whispered to him.

  Now he understood. Her ladyship was one of the gorgons of the ton about whom his brother had warned him. “My lady, a pleasure to see you again.”

  Lady Bellamny slid a look at Augusta. “Well done.” Then her ladyship glanced back at him. “It is plain to see your foreign travel has not hurt your manners.” She turned her disdainful black gaze on Bottomley. “Unlike some who have not even left England and still cannot remember them.”

  Augusta turned her head away—probably so that Lady Bellamny couldn’t see her silently laughing. Bottomley mumbled something, did his best to bow from his horse, and rode away, no doubt nursing his hurt pride. It was a very satisfactory state of affairs as far as Phinn was concerned. He’d never expected to have such an enjoyable time.

  She snapped the reins, the carriage moved forward, and he decided to take advantage of their momentary solitude. “My lady, would you drive with me again tomorrow?”

  When she finally glanced at him, her eyes were full of tears. How had he made her cry? He was thinking of a way to console her when, in a shaky voice, she said, “Yes, but only if you do not make me laugh.”

  Ah, tears of joy. That was a different matter. “You have a great many rules, my lady.” Phinn made his voice as prim as possible. “I may not speak of the weather, and I may not make you laugh. What, pray, am I allowed to do?”

  “Do you know how to drive?” she asked in a strangled voice.

  “Of course.” What did that have to do with anything?

  “Good.” She shoved the ribbons in his hand, covered her face with her hands, and succumbed to the mirth she’d been attempting to hold in. It was a full minute, at least, before she regained her countenance and took back the reins. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” She still had not answered his request. “Did I make you laugh too much for you to ride with me again?”

  “No.” She grinned. “I am having a much better time with you than I expected.”

  Before he could ask what she meant by that—she really was the most disconcerting female he had ever met—Lytton rode up.

  “Lady Augusta. Lord Phineas.” The man said Phinn’s name as if something sour was in his mouth. Lytton glanced at the phaeton, then at Phinn. “I am surprised you would allow another to drive your new carriage.”

  “You are mistaken. This is Lady Augusta’s phaeton. I am fortunate she allowed me to tool it for a short time.”

  The man sniffed. “My lady, the reason I stopped is to ask you to stand up with me at Lady Wolverton’s ball tomorrow evening for the supper dance.”

  She quickly schooled her expression into a mask. “I am sorry, my lord, but that set is taken. Lord Phineas has already requested it.”

  He was more than pleased she had remembered his offer. Smiling smugly, Phinn glanced at his lordship. “Indeed I have.”

  The man looked as if he’d swallowed a toad. “Do you have a country dance available?”

  Augusta gazed innocently up at Lytton. “I have the third set free. I believe it is a cotillion.”

  “Thank you, my lady. I shall see you then.” He inclined his head before riding away.

  Phinn wished he could have saved her from dancing with the man at all. In Mexico, if one danced with a lady more than once it was tantamount to a betrothal. And as much as he was coming to like Lady Augusta, that would complicate his life.

  * * *

  Augusta was glad Lord Lytton did not linger. If only she knew enough gentlemen to fill her card. Grace and Mama had warned Augusta that before an entertainment, if she turned a gentleman down, she must find another one to take his place. Not only that, but if a gentleman requested a set she had free during a ball, she would have to accept that too or not dance the rest of the evening. What if she had all her dances scheduled but one, would she then be able to make some excuse? She’d have to ask.

  “You should have told him you did not have any sets left,” Lord Phineas said.

  “If it had been possible, I would have. Do you not know how many rules concerning dancing and comportment there are for young ladies?”

  He seemed to consider her question, then shook his head. “I only know of one.”

  “In that case, I shall tell you.” By the time she was done explaining about not dancing with a gentleman, versus standing up with one twice and no more, unless one was betrothed to that gentleman; not laughing too loudly, but always laughing politely when a gentleman thought he was being witty; and the host of other things she had been taught, she thought his eyes would pop out of his head.

  “No wonder young ladies all act the same,” he said slowly.

  “Exactly.” Augusta decided to provide what she considered to be the coup de grâce to the discussion. “And do you know that a lady is not supposed to show her intelligence at all?”

  “Some things my sister-in-law said gave me that idea.” His tone was thoughtful. “But you do not hide your intellect.”

  “I do not. Neither did my sisters or Lady Merton. Our families are very forward thinking.” Except for Mama, who had become obsessed with Augusta marrying. “Then again, most gentlemen do not wish to have a real conversation. Ergo, it is easy for me to simply make the appropriate responses while I am thinking of something else.”

  “Remarkable,” he mused. Although, she had the feeling he was talking more to himself than her. Lord Phineas would most likely not give it any more thought. The rules did not affect him, after all.

  They had reached Worthington House, and she brought the phaeton to a halt. She would have taken him to his brother’s house, but she was not allowed to drive the short distance from Grosvenor Square to Berkeley Square without a groom or another person in the carriage.

  “What would happen if some muckworm asked you to dance?”

  For a second, she could only stare at him in disbelief. He had actually been analyzing all she had told him. She smiled. “That is easy. If he is someone scurrilous, I would not have been introduced to him. Therefore, I may not stand up with him.” She thought back over what she had told him. “I did say I may not dance with a gentleman to whom I have not been introduced.”

  “Yes. Yes, you did. I just didn’t realize that there would not be a situation where someone would, unthinkingly, introduce you to a gentleman you should not know.”

  “In that event, my brother would step in.” And none too politely.

  “Yes, of course.” He nodded slightly, again as if he were still considering the rules.

  “Augusta.” Walter was standing next to the carriage. “You do not wish to leave the horses standing too long.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course.” How long had she and Lord Phineas been sitting there? “I must have lost track of time.”

  “Don’t be concerned.” Walter snorted. “I never thought to hear an academic discussion about dance partners.”

  She and Lord Phineas exchanged a glance and smile. “I suppose I should take my leave.”

  “I should go inside.” Yet, she wanted to stay here talking with him. Walter came around to her side of the carriage to help her down, and Augusta almost wished it had been Lord Phineas.

  Although, she did not wish to repeat the reaction she’d had when he lifted her up. That had been much too disconcerting.

  He came around. Taking her fingers in his hand, he pressed a kiss on her knuckles. “Until tomorrow.”

  Heat raced up her arm in the same fashion as it had affected her torso when he had touched her waist. “Until then.” This reaction was much too confusing. She stared at him, turned toward the house, took a step, then whirled back to him. “I must go.”

  He gave her an odd look. Did he think she was mad? She certainly felt like it. “Yes, I should as well.”

  Refusing to look back again, Augusta str
ode to the front door. She was going to Italy. There was no room in her life for strange feelings for a man.

  The second she entered the house, she was bombarded by her sisters and Phillip, wanting to know when they could ride in her phaeton. Thank God for the chaos of her family. The last thing she wanted to think about was Lord Phineas.

  She held up her hand. “Wait a moment.” She could take Mary and Theodora at the same time. Augusta surveyed the children. The two youngest had bonnets hanging from their hands. Mary glanced up hopefully and stuck out her toe. Leather shoes as well. “I shall take Mary and Theo.” The twins and Madeline started to protest and Augusta hushed them again. “None of you are ready and they are. I’ll take one of you and Phillip when I return, then I’ll take the next two. They will only be short rides. You must get ready for dinner soon.”

  By the time she was done making the trips around Berkeley Square, it was past time to change for dinner. They had all had carriage driving lessons and wanted to take a turn handling the ribbons, but the traffic was heavy and she’d had to promise to take them out early one morning.

  After dinner her mother and Richard joined them for tea. Mama sat next to Augusta on the sofa. “I understand you had a lovely carriage ride with Lord Phineas.”

  “I did.” Drat it all, her mother must have spoken to Lady Bellamny. Augusta should have known there was no keeping anything private.

  “Excellent.” Her mother smiled happily. “Lady Dorchester tells me that Lord Phineas is highly respected. Did you know he is to present papers to the Royal Society and the Royal Institution?”

  “That does not surprise me.” Augusta drained her teacup. She didn’t want to think about him. Not his insightful mind or his sparkling silver eyes. Or the way he made her laugh. And definitely not that other thing that happened when they touched.

  Mama brought her teacup up to her mouth and gazed at Augusta. “I understand you are going driving with him tomorrow as well.”

  Where had she heard that? “Ah, yes, and we are to dance the supper set together at my ball.” Pretending to yawn, she covered her mouth. “I really must go to bed. Tomorrow will be a busy day.” Setting her cup and saucer on the table, she rose. “Good night.”