by Ella Quinn
“If you will excuse me.” Grace stood. “I wish to look in on the children. Good night.”
Mama rose as well. “We should be going. Augusta is correct. Tomorrow will be a hectic day.”
Once Augusta, Grace, and Matt had seen Mama and Richard to the door, Grace took Augusta’s arm. “If you are sure you do not wish to marry this Season, it would be kinder of you not to raise your mother’s expectations.”
Drat, drat, drat! How could I not have taken that into consideration?
As much as she enjoyed his company, this was for the best. “I shall limit my time with Lord Phineas.”
Grace frowned. “Only if you wish to. You do appear to enjoy his company.”
Augusta tried not to sigh. He was the only gentleman, other than Walter, with whom she could have interesting discussions. “I do enjoy his company a great deal, but my mind is set. If at all possible, I wish to attend university.”
She said good evening to her sister-in-law and headed toward her bedchamber. Perhaps she and Lord Phineas could meet at another time of the day when they would not be so noticeable.
Chapter Eight
The next afternoon, Phinn once again presented himself at five o’clock. This time he had to ply the large brass knocker before a harried-looking footman answered. “Come in, my lord. I’ll find Lady Augusta. We’re at sixes and sevens with getting ready for the ball.”
Not that he’d ever been in a house when a ball was being got together, but still . . . “You mean to say that Lady Augusta is actually doing things to prepare for the ball?”
The footman looked at him as if he was newly released from Bedlam. “My lord, not only is Lady Augusta preparing, but so is her ladyship, his lordship, Mr. Walter, the rest of the children, and Lord and Lady Wolverton.”
It appeared Phinn’s domestic education had been sorely neglected. “‘Lay on, Macduff,’ I shall give what help I am able.”
“My name is Franklin, my lord. I don’t think we have a Macduff here. But with Lady Merton sending servants over, you never know.” The footman turned. “Come with me.”
Obviously, the man had not been exposed to Shakespeare, which was a great pity as he’d written his plays for the common man.
“I thought I’d heard the ball was to be at Rothwell House?” In fact, Phinn was certain that’s what Helen had said.
“It was until there was an accident of some kind.” The footman glanced at him. “Runners have been sent all over Town with messages.”
No wonder everyone was in a rush. Phinn found Lady Augusta surrounded by great swathes of different colored silks draped over chairs. The footman had been called away before he was announced.
Her hand was on her forehead as if she was attempting to hold back a headache. Or perhaps she already had one. “Do we really need to do this? The ball is in a few hours. There will not be time to hang the fabric.”
“It does not take any time at all,” Lady Merton assured Lady Augusta.
Gazing up, her sister the duchess turned around in a circle. “It does need something to tie the rooms together.”
It wasn’t until then that Phinn noticed doors had been pulled back, allowing almost the whole side of the house to seem like one room. Footmen, being directed by a trio of girls, scurried around with vases full of spring flowers. Walter Carpenter was organizing the placement of large potted palms around the rooms.
“I think the gold is very nice,” Lady Wolverton offered. Her remark drew his attention back to the silk. No. The gold would be too heavy.
“I like the green,” Lady Kenilworth opined. “But it will not do for Augusta.”
Why wouldn’t it do for Lady Augusta? Then he noticed she was dressed for their drive. Had she been attempting to escape for a ride with him and been caught? He studied the green, trying to imagine it on Lady Augusta. Her ladyship was right. It wouldn’t do at all, but the yellow and white silk would look well on her.
He cleared his throat, and the ladies turned as one to see who was interrupting. “Good afternoon. Lady Augusta and I were to go for a carriage ride.”
Lady Wolverton’s eyes narrowed slightly, and her lips pressed together. He’d been on the receiving end of that exact look, but from his mother, not Lady Augusta’s.
“If I may.” He pointed to the fabrics. “I believe the yellow and white would be an excellent idea.”
Her beleaguered expression disappeared, and she glanced around the room. “I think Lord Phineas is right. They would be perfect with the different wall coverings and the flowers.”
Her grace nodded briskly. “Where are Rothwell and Kenilworth? We will require their help.”
“Outside,” Walter said. “Helping with the garden decorations.”
“I’d be happy to offer my services.” Phinn stared at the silk again. “Someone will need to tell me what to do.”
“We’re finished here.” Walter stepped over. “But I’ve never done this part.”
“There are loops on the fabric.” Lady Augusta picked up one of the long silk pieces, showing them the almost-invisible loops. “And hooks are on the walls. The difficult part will be weaving the swaths together.”
“If we have someone on the ground twisting them as they are handed up to the person on the ladder, that might work.” Phinn tried to envision how they’d look.
A footman was sent outside to gather as many ladders as he could, and soon the swaths of yellow and white silk were draped along the upper walls.
“I have to admit,” Augusta said an hour later as she surveyed their work, “it does look better.”
The brilliant smile she gave him made him want to gather her in his arms and kiss her. For some peculiar reason, he was not nearly as bothered about that thought as he should be.
“Thank you for your suggestion. It was perfect.”
“My pleasure.” Lord Phineas sketched a short bow.
Augusta’s brothers and her brothers-in-law, as well as Merton, stood outside the French windows to the drawing room looking very pleased with themselves.
“The lanterns are up,” Matt said. “There is not a dark spot in the garden.”
“Precisely what we wanted.” Grace along with Mary and Theo entered the drawing room. “Thank you, my love.”
“I live to serve.” A wicked look entered Matt’s eyes as he gazed at Grace, and Augusta wondered what that was about.
“It looks like we’re finished here as well,” Walter said. “I’m hungry. Dinner should be soon. Are we changing?”
Lord Phineas had sidled up to Augusta. “Dinner?”
“We eat early with the children. They do not do well with Town hours.” She had to smile at that. The children were growing rapidly. “None of us do.”
“There is no need to change,” Grace said. “We will have to dress for the ball afterward.”
“Would you like to dine with us?” Augusta kept her voice low.
“I would be delighted, but I must visit my tailor for a final fitting of my evening kit if I am not to look shabby at your ball.”
That was disappointing but understandable. She held out her hand. “Thank you for your help, and not being upset about missing our carriage ride.”
He took her fingers in his and bowed. “How could I have been offended when you appeared as if you were under siege?”
As it had before, his touch started her blood racing. Still, Augusta could not help but laugh. “That is exactly how I felt. I shall see you this evening.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” The corners of his eyes creased. “I believe I shall also take pride in having my work admired.” When he returned her hand to her, Augusta felt the loss. How strange. “I’ll see myself out.”
It was not until she was dressing that she recalled her gown for this evening was in the same yellow and white as the decorations. No wonder she had liked his idea so much. Not only that, but the flowers that had been embroidered on the yellow overdress were the same colors as the flowers for the ball.
&nbs
p; Her younger sisters burst into the room followed by Grace and Mama.
“Ooooh,” Madeline and the twins said at the same time. “You match the ballroom!”
“It is not a ballroom.” Theo frowned at the girls. “It is just made to look like one.”
“I think you are very pretty.” Mary stood on her tiptoes and kissed Augusta’s cheek.
Mama gave her a long strand of pearls that Gobert looped around Augusta’s neck, and Grace gave her pearl earrings.
Perhaps this evening would be fun after all.
* * *
A few hours later, Augusta was in the receiving line when Lord Phineas greeted her again. “I must have been prescient.”
“Indeed. I had not even thought about my gown when we were discussing the decorations.”
He chuckled softly. “That doesn’t surprise me. You looked as if you were trying to decide whom to murder first.” Lord Phineas leaned a little closer. “You will be the most beautiful lady in the room tonight.”
“Thank you.” Augusta appreciated the compliment even if she had heard it several times already. When he said it, it sounded different. More sincere. “I shall see you later.”
Charlie, Grace’s brother, the Earl of Stanwood, who had arrived just as they were sitting down to dinner and had received a lot of good-hearted teasing about missing all the work, led her out for her first dance.
When she had asked him to stand up with her, he had given her a searching look. “Are you sure there isn’t another gentleman you wish to have dance with you?”
“No, I did not want to single out any of the gentlemen and told everyone who asked that I already had a partner.”
“Very well, then. I would be honored.”
Unfortunately, the rest of the gentlemen with whom she stood up had no more conversation than they’d had at Almack’s. Then again, she should not complain. That left her free to begin planning her journey to Italy in early summer. At least when she danced with Lord Phineas, he was stimulating to talk to.
Finally, the gentleman in question strolled up to her and bowed. “My set, I believe.”
“It is, indeed.” She placed her fingers lightly on his arm. Yet, even that small amount of pressure caused awareness to scurry through her body. The feeling grew even stronger when he placed his hand on her waist. Surely, this wouldn’t happen every time they touched.
“Have you been bored to death?” The music started, and they began to twirl.
It was amazing how in tune to her mood he was. “I have been entertaining myself, while pretending to listen.”
“I thought that might be the case. Shall I weary you with Aztec architecture?” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “I have been doing an excellent job of it this evening with the other ladies.”
“That was not kind of you.” Most of the other females would be completely out of their depths.
“Perhaps not, but I could point out that it is not nice of you to pretend to be engrossed in a gentleman’s conversation.”
“Fair enough.” He did have a point. Yet, what harm could her behavior cause? “We shall discuss Aztec architecture in Nahuatl.”
“This set will not be nearly long enough.” Lord Phineas’s grin warmed her.
No, it would not be long enough, but it would be the best dance of the evening.
As Phinn escorted Lady Augusta down to supper with her family, he had the whimsical sensation of taking flight. If he were looking for a wife, Augusta—that was much better than Lady Augusta; he did not want that space between them—was exactly the type of lady he would wed. Mayhap he should consider acceding to his brother’s wishes and produce an heir sooner rather than later. After all, she was not attached to another gentleman. From what he’d witnessed she found them all tedious in the extreme. She was on the Marriage Mart. If she must wed, why should she not marry him?
He already had lustful thoughts about her. Yet even more alluring than her obvious beauty, her mind was a thing of pure magnificence as much or more as her features were. And she reacted to him physically. Though he doubted she understood what the sensations she experienced meant. Nor did it matter. Phinn would be happy to instruct her.
They also had so much in common, they were rapidly becoming close friends. Still more importantly, he could imagine a life with her. They would have babies with rich, sable hair and lapis-blue eyes.
Still, he did not wish to move too quickly. It was early days and marriage was for life. He’d bide his time and see if these feelings he was having for her would last and if he truly wished to wed. Until then, he would make sure he did not raise her expectations.
Helen had already scolded him for arranging another carriage ride so shortly after the first one. It seemed odd to him that something as public and innocuous as an outing during the Promenade could cause talk. She’d also repeated the rules Augusta had explained. There would be no second dances at balls and other entertainments. Until he had made up his mind what he wanted, that was. Then he’d make sure men such as Lytton didn’t come near her.
Three tables grouped together had been reserved for them. He held a chair for Augusta before going off with the other gentlemen to select the small dishes they would bring back to the ladies. Thankfully, as Phinn had never been “on the Town” as a young man, his brother had taken the time to explain what was expected of him. No wonder Dorchester had wanted an arranged match. They were much simpler than this courting business.
Luckily, the customs were much less confusing than the Spanish ones he’d had to learn in Mexico.
“What were you discussing with my sister?” Lord Stanwood asked.
“The Aztec buildings.” Phinn hoped Augusta liked most of what was on offer. It was her ball, after all. He chose a small mushroom tart. “I studied them when I was in Mexico.”
Stanwood pointed to a lobster patty and Phinn took that as well. “That wasn’t Spanish you were speaking.”
“No, it was the Aztec language. She wished to practice.” What else would she like to eat?
Her brothers-in-law made grunts of approval. Either that she wished to practice or that he encouraged it, he didn’t know.
“She likes the lemon tarts as well,” Kenilworth said.
Phinn was reaching for another tart when it occurred to him that Helen wasn’t the only one given to matchmaking. He’d have to be careful. He wasn’t sure he wished to marry yet, nor did he want to hurt Augusta’s feelings. He enjoyed her company. And even though he was always happier in her company than in anyone else’s, that was all it could be for the immediate future. The main problem was that marrying would end any plans he had to go to Europe.
Chapter Nine
Augusta was dressing to go shopping with her friends when a knock sounded on her door.
“I’ll get it, my lady.” Gobert opened the door, exchanging murmured words with whoever was there. “His lordship wishes to see you before you go out.”
She was hardly ever summoned to her brother’s study. “I wonder what he wants.”
“I couldn’t say, my lady.” Her dresser placed the final pin in her hair. “Durant wasn’t told.”
Had Matt made a decision about allowing her to go to Italy? That must be the reason.
A knot formed in her stomach. What if he said no? All her planning would be for naught. Then what would she do with herself? The university in Holland was an option, and it was not at all far from England. She might be allowed to go there. The only problem was that she did not know anyone at the university. Not only that, but it did not have the prestige of Padua. Still, it would be better than nothing.
Please let him say yes, please let him say yes, please let him say yes.
She hurried down the stairs to his office.
When she arrived in the study, Grace was seated on one of the chairs in front of Matt’s desk.
She waved to the vacant chair. “Please.”
Augusta forced herself to smile as she sank onto the chair and waited.
Press
ing his lips together in a thin line, Matt placed his forearms on the desk. “I have received four offers for your hand.”
For a moment she was so stunned, she couldn’t speak. This was not about university after all. “I don’t understand. Who would want to marry me? I have encouraged no one.” Yet, apparently that didn’t matter. But no, Matt had said offers. She was not being forced to wed, and she refused to entertain any gentleman’s suit until she had accomplished what she wished to. “Tell them no. I do not wish to marry them.”
“Augusta”—Grace’s lips began to twitch—“You really should know who they are. It could become embarrassing if one of the gentlemen mentioned his request to you.”
Taking a breath, Augusta nodded. “Very well. Who are they?”
Matt looked down at a piece of paper on his desk. “Lord Lytton made an argument mostly consisting of how eligible he is and how highly you would be regarded as his countess.”
Even if she was looking for a husband, his lordship was the last man she’d marry. “His lordship may find another lady, with my blessing. Just not any of my friends.”
Matt’s brows drew together. “I would have counseled against him in any event.” He glanced at the paper again. “Lord Lancelot Somersby made an impassioned plea that I not deny his suit based on the fact that he is a younger son.” Her brother cast his eyes at the ceiling. “And asked that I give you the book of poems he wrote for you.” Sliding a journal across his desk, Matt heaved a hard put-upon sigh. “He is convinced that even though he has only seen you from afar—his words not mine—his poetry will convince you he is a perfect mawworm.”
“He said he was a mawworm?” That was the oddest thing she had ever heard.
Leaning her elbow on the chair arm, Grace dropped her head into her hands and laughed. “Lord Lancelot said his poetry will convince you he is your perfect mate.”
But who was Lord Lancelot? Gradually, an image of a very young man—although older than she—with blond curls, who always wore a medium blue satin jacket and breeches, came to her. “Is he even of age?”