Believe in Me (The Worthingtons #6)

by Ella Quinn

  “She is the Countess of Harrington,” Dorchester answered promptly. “Her husband, the Marquis of Markham’s heir, works for Sir Charles Stuart at our embassy in Paris.”

  “I’d like a letter of introduction to both Sir Charles and Lord Harrington, if possible.”

  Dorchester nodded. “I’ll arrange it.”

  Finishing his breakfast, Phinn pushed back his chair and stood. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “Keep your vow, and I’ll be the most understanding brother any man could have.” Dorchester picked up the newssheet next to his plate.

  “I shall.” The devil was if Augusta was serious about not marrying until she had attended university, how was Phinn to talk her out of it? Of course, she was so intelligent, she could probably do both, have a baby and attend lectures.

  Damn, he’d forgot to mention to Musson, his new valet, that they were leaving. The man had actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Not only was he supremely competent in advising Phinn as to what he required for the Season, he got along with everyone, even Pickle.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Phinn strode into his bedchamber, where his valet was busy directing a maid in cleaning the room.

  He waited until the woman left before saying, “We’re departing for Europe in a week. However, Lady Dorchester is not to know until my brother has had a chance to speak with her.”

  “The trunks will be a bit of a problem.” His valet cocked his head to one side. “But I believe we can spirit them out of the house without anyone who would inform her knowing. Are they in the attic?”

  “Ah, no.” Phinn had forgotten all about having only one trunk. It was a small one at that. It certainly wouldn’t hold all the clothing he’d purchased since arriving back in England. “The only one I have is in the chamber next to this one.”

  “In that case”—Musson nodded briskly—“it will be no trouble at all. If you give me leave to purchase the trunks you need, I shall take care of everything.”

  “Yes, of course.” Phinn breathed a sigh of relief. They would make this happen without Helen’s being any the wiser. “Organize everything with Boman. I shall see you later today. I believe I have a ball to attend this evening.”

  “As you wish, my lord.” Musson pulled out a pocketbook and began to make notes.

  Phinn went to the parlor he’d been given. It was time to ensure he had a dance with Augusta tonight. Sitting at the desk, he pulled out a piece of pressed paper and began to write.

  Dear Lady Augusta,

  Please save a waltz for me this evening at Lady

  Bellamny’s ball.

  He frowned at what he’d written. It was too demanding. Crumpling the paper up, he threw it into the fireplace.

  Phinn tried three more times. All the attempts were consigned to the fire.

  He would do this in person. After his proposal yesterday, that was likely the best way of convincing her to dance with him. Glancing at the gold and walnut clock on the mantel, he saw it was only shortly after eight. A bit early to make a call, but she had said they broke their fast early because of her brothers and sisters.

  He went back to his bedchamber. “Musson, I’ll be out for several hours. Please tell Boman to meet me at the Seven Stars in Carey Street at ten o’clock.”

  It wouldn’t take him that long to speak with Augusta, but he wanted all the time she’d give him.

  “As you wish, my lord,” his valet called from the dressing room.

  He opened the door and looked both ways down the corridor before venturing out of his room. Now if he could just avoid Helen for the next few days, all would be well.

  Rather than calling for a coach, or his brother’s gig, Phinn decided to walk. Several minutes later he knocked on the door at Worthington House. A tall, thin man with silver hair opened it.

  “Please come in, my lord.” The butler bowed and behaved as if it was common for visitors to arrive before noon. “The family is at breakfast. However, I shall inform her ladyship you are here.”

  A few moments later, the butler returned and Phinn followed the man a short way down a corridor. “Lord Phineas Carter-Woods.”

  He was ushered into a long room filled with people, most of them still in the schoolroom. He recognized the two youngest girls, as well as the three older ones. Walter inclined his head but was busy shoveling food into his mouth. At his age, Phinn had done the same. Another boy, younger than Walter, glanced at Phinn. The lad had been helping to decorate that day as well. Worthington was nowhere to be seen. An empty place had been set at Lady Worthington’s right hand.

  “Lord Phineas.” She indicated he should take a seat. “Please join us.”

  He considered saying he would wait until they were finished, then he caught sight of the uncertain look on Augusta’s face. He hated seeing her like that and felt as if a knife had been thrust in his gut and twisted. Despite her refusal, he’d make sure she knew she could always trust him.

  “Thank you.” He bowed. “I’d be delighted.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  What in Heaven’s name was Phinn doing here? And at such an hour? Augusta sincerely hoped he had not come to renew his suit.

  Her pondering came to a quick end when Grace said, “Augusta, please perform the introductions.”

  That’s right. Even though he had helped set up for the ball, he had not met her sisters or Phillip. Forcing a smile, she glanced at her sisters, all of whom had sat up straighter and were staring at Phinn. “Ladies, Madeline, Alice, Eleanor, Theodora, and Mary, I would like to make Lord Phineas Carter-Woods known to you.” She waited until they had each said good morning. “My lord, these are my sisters, Lady Madeline Vivers, Ladies Alice and Eleanor Carpenter, Lady Theodora Vivers, and Lady Mary Carpenter.”

  He gave an elegant bow, more suited in a ballroom to a duchess than a breakfast room to children. “Ladies, it is my pleasure.”

  The twins and Madeline giggled, Theo inclined her head as if she were a duchess—she would never be a silly young lady—and for a moment Augusta expected her sister to say something embarrassing, but Theo kept her counsel. Augusta wondered how she had not noticed her sister’s growing maturity.

  Mary gave Phinn a searching look as if she might ferret out all his secrets.

  “My lord,” Augusta continued, “you have already met my brother Walter. Next to him is my brother Phillip Carpenter.”

  “Good morning,” Phinn said, smiling at the boys.

  “Good morning, sir,” they said at the same time.

  The only residents not present were Miss Tallerton, their governess, and Mr. Winters, their tutor. They liked to spend this time coordinating their lessons. Or, more probably, to have some much-needed quiet before the day began.

  Augusta resumed her seat, finished her tea, and poured another cup. She wished the younger girls had decided to interrogate Phinn. Unfortunately, they appeared to have picked this year to grow out of putting one to the blush.

  He had no sooner sat in the chair next to Grace, when she said, “To what do we owe your visit?”

  For a moment his eyes widened, reminding Augusta of a panicked deer. She almost went into whoops but managed to hide her smile. He obviously thought no one would ask until the children were gone. “I came to attempt to persuade Lady Augusta to dance with me at Lady Bellamny’s ball this evening.” He glanced at her. “If she is attending.”

  That was surprising. Augusta fought her urge to gape at him. Was this just another way to try to convince her to marry him, or did he truly wish to remain her friend? Not that there was much else he could do. She was leaving, and he had to marry.

  She did want to dance this evening. And there was no reason why it could not be with him. “I would be delighted to stand up with you.”

  “Excellent.” The corners of his well-molded lips tilted up. “May I have a waltz, if you have one left?”

  Augusta wanted to sigh. She had more than one left. The situation was so dire that her sisters had promis
ed to enlist their husbands and friends to stand up with her. “You may have the second waltz.”

  “I had hoped for the supper dance.” Phinn’s tone was low but insistent.

  Their eyes clashed. He was not happy, but what did he expect? “We are not staying for supper. There is no need.”

  Mary fixed an innocent gaze on Phinn. “Augusta is going to Europe in a few days. We do not know how long she will be away.”

  Well done, Mary.

  Augusta wondered what he would say to that.

  “Thank you.” His smile faded slightly. “I had heard something about that. I suppose most of London has as well.” He glanced at her. “May I tempt you into a carriage ride this afternoon?”

  “I am sorry to say that Augusta has a full schedule today.” Grace smiled at Phinn. “There are a great many things to accomplish and very little time in which to do so.”

  He must know that. He had spent a good deal of time traveling. Did he think she would leave all the planning to someone else? Or perhaps he did not understand—despite what Mary had said—how long she meant to be gone.

  After giving himself an almost imperceptible shake, he grinned ruefully. “Please forgive me. I, of all people, know how much time arrangements for overseas travel can take. Instead of a carriage ride, allow me to offer my services in the event you require any assistance.”

  Phinn’s admission dissipated the tension that had been growing in the room. Augusta let out the breath she had been holding. The twins and Madeline giggled lightly. Phillip and Walter excused themselves, and Mary and Theo exchanged a look. Augusta did not even want to know what that was about.

  Phinn finished eating, drained his teacup, and stood. “Thank you very much for allowing me to share your breakfast.” He bowed to her. “I look forward to our dance, my lady.”

  “I shall accompany you to the door,” Augusta said, rising. They were halfway up the corridor when she stopped, forcing him to do the same. “I am sorry about the carriage ride.”

  He reached out his hand as if to touch her, then dropped it. “Please don’t be. I do know how much planning goes into a journey.” He grinned at her. “Even if you are not making all the preparations, you still have a great deal to do and many decisions to make. I apologize for not thinking of that.”

  “Well, thank you, again.” She would miss him when she was gone, but she was glad he understood. “If we do not see much of each other over the next few days, good luck with your hunt for a wife.”

  “Your wishes are appreciated.” The corner of his mouth cocked up into a crooked smile. “Not that I blame you for having your ambitions, but your leaving has made my search much harder.”

  “Yes, well.” She brushed back a curl from her face. “Perhaps you will find a lady whom you can love.”

  Taking her hand, he kissed it, and the warmth of his lips radiated up her arm. Good Lord, she’d forgotten neither of them wore gloves. Augusta became acutely aware of the strength in his lightly calloused hands, and removed her fingers from his grip. “I shall see you this evening.”

  “Until then.” He inclined his head before taking his hat and cane from Thorton and strolling out the door.

  She stared at Phinn until Thorton closed the door. Perhaps, after this evening, she should eschew entertainments altogether.

  “Augusta,” Grace said, “you must decide if you’ll take Zephyr with you. Hector needs to know.”

  “I do wish to take her with me.” She was leaving so much behind, but not her horse.

  “Very well. I’ll send him a message. Please be ready to go in a half hour.”

  “I will.” Phinn had more than surprised her this morning. If he loved her—no! She was not going to think about that. Allowing herself to fall in love with him would only lead to heartache.

  * * *

  Phinn strolled out of Worthington House as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Yet it was a damn good thing he’d left when he had. The moment Augusta had pushed back the curl that had fallen over her forehead, he’d wanted to touch it, spear his fingers through her hair, drag her to him, and kiss her witless until she agreed to marry him. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted her as his wife.

  By the way she had responded when he’d kissed her hand, Phinn had no doubt she felt something for him too. If she was not so determined to travel to Europe—and he knew that despite what her mother said or thought, Augusta had not given up on attending university—he’d be able to convince her to marry him, and in short order. As it was, she would be more of a challenge. Still, all the best things were worth going to a bit of trouble for. He would simply be persistent. Eventually, she’d see that he was the perfect mate for her. Even if it wasn’t a love match, it was a lust match. He would make her happier than any other gentleman could.

  Pausing, he pulled out his watch. He’d been with Augusta’s family longer than he had thought, but not as long as he wanted to be. Still, even on foot, he’d arrive at the tavern in good time for his meeting with Boman. And Phinn needed a good walk to help him keep his head clear. He was much too prone to considering Augusta’s lush form, rather than the business at hand. Although, now that he thought about it, she was the business at hand.

  He would have rather met his secretary at a coffeehouse, but they were frequented by gentlemen and there was too great a chance of being overheard and having rumors reach Helen’s ears. In fact, he hoped he’d be on his way to Dover before she discovered he was gone.

  Upon entering the tavern not far from Lincoln’s Inn Fields and popular with the legal population in London, he found it to be relatively empty. He took a seat away from the front windows and immediately a neatly dressed young woman approached him.

  “Mornin’, sir. C’n I get you ale or coffee? Or somethin’ to eat?”

  He thought about ordering coffee, but decided ale might be a better choice. “An ale, please.”

  “Be right up.” She bustled toward the bar.

  Just about the time she brought his ale, Boman entered the tavern. “Make it two.”

  “Yes, sir.” The woman placed a mug on the table and hurried off again.

  Boman slid onto the bench across from Phinn, who pushed his tankard of ale toward his secretary. “What have you discovered?”

  “For the most part, Mr. Addison makes his own arrangements. He was with the East India Company for many years and has a lot of friends around the docks.” Boman took a draw of ale. “He and his party will make the crossing on a private yacht.”

  Perdition! There was no hope of getting on the same ship as Augusta. “Where does that leave us?”

  “It just so happens”—his secretary grinned—“there is another ship accompanying the Sarah Elizabeth. I have booked us on that vessel. The Catherine.” Boman pulled out a pocketbook, placing it on the table. “Although Mr. Addision makes his own passage arrangements, he has an Indian fellow who does the rest. I approached him about joining his group when we arrive in Calais. The basis being that it is better to travel together. He will ask Mr. Addison. I only gave him my name.”

  That was better than nothing. “Good work. What else do we need?”

  “Horses and a traveling carriage. I’ll leave you to find the animals. I have a recommendation as to where to find a carriage. We’ll also need linens. Ours are no better than rags.”

  “Carriage horses and hacks?” Phinn made a mental list.

  Boman nodded. “From what I understand, Addison’s cattle will depart tomorrow. He had coaches built in France.”

  “Should we do the same?” Phinn could get his brother to accompany him to Tattersalls for the horses. There was an argument to be made for hiring a team in France, but one never knew what condition the horses would be in.

  “It’s unnecessary. He has more equipage than we require.” His secretary slid the pocketbook across the table. “Here is the rest of what we need.”

  Phinn read the neat handwriting. Provisions until they were able to find a market in France. The
trunks he’d already arranged. Musson could take care of most of the rest of the list. “Waterproof coats? What happened to ours?”

  Raising one brow, Boman said, “Do you want to look like a pauper or a wealthy gentleman? I guarantee you we shall prosper better on the Continent if we don’t look like we can’t afford our lodgings or meals.”

  And that was the reason Phinn trusted his secretary to plan the journey. He hoped his valet could find some coats already made. “You have a point. Other than Paris, do we know where we are traveling?”

  “Not until Addison approves our attaching ourselves to his party.” Boman twisted his mug around on the table. “You do realize that he is likely to tell Lady Augusta we are joining them?”

  No. Phinn hadn’t considered that at all. When had his mind stopped working? He’d been so focused on Augusta and following her, he hadn’t thought of how she would react. She’d comprehend in a moment what he was about, and she wouldn’t like it at all. He would have to be much more subtle than to expect to be able to join her group when they first arrived in France. He had to come up with a way to make her want him there, which would require a change of tactics.

  Taking out his pocket watch, he looked at it and hoped his brother was still at the house. “It’s five days from Calais to Paris.”

  Boman nodded. “Naturally, if you want to stop along the way it will be longer.”

  “You’re right. I don’t want Lady Augusta knowing that I wish to join her party. It might be better if we are already in Paris when she arrives.” Yet, there were a few towns he wished to visit, but that wouldn’t put him behind schedule. It would surprise him if her group rushed straight to Paris.

  “That will shorten our time to prepare. I’ll have to speak with Musson.”

  “Will it be possible to depart in two or three days?” Phinn took a drink of ale. It was actually quite good.

  “I’ll speak to the agent representing the ship.” His secretary paused while he made notes in his pocketbook. “I should have an answer for you by late this afternoon.”