“Not often we see a lady run away from you, Ashwick. It was quite a sight.”
Miles glanced up at Walsingham and offered him a cold look.
Roberts chuckled. “I cannot deny it was not ever something I thought I would see.”
Blowing out a breath, Miles finished off the glass of port in front of him. “I do not blame Augusta one jot for not wishing to speak with me. It seems the sins of my brother have been cast upon me. And Lord knows, she probably blames me for not ensuring that he has returned home to fulfill his duty to her.”
Walsingham shrugged. “Henry has always been a free spirit. We were all surprised when he proposed to Miss Snow so quickly.”
Miles clasped the empty glass, squeezing the delicate stem between several fingers. He had been surprised too. They had known Miss Snow and her family for decades and Henry had never shown any interest in her until her debut. One season later, and they were engaged. Miles could still remember his brother coming to him and telling him of his intention to wed her. His gut clenched even now.
He released the stem of the glass and forced his hands to relax. “Whether he offered for her hand too quickly or not, he made a commitment. I intend to ensure he sees it through. Somehow.”
“Where is he at the moment anyway?” Roberts asked.
Miles shook his head. “By the time I receive his letters, he has moved on. Last I heard, he was in the Baltics.”
“You could cut him off,” Walsingham suggested. “He won’t get very far without funds.”
“I promised my father I would never do such a thing. Unfortunately, I think he was all too aware of Henry’s nature before his death. Besides which, my mother would never let it happen. She would probably disown me first.”
“She’s a pretty girl, you ought to ensure he returns home with haste. She will not wait around forever.” Roberts refilled all their glasses from the bottle.
If only that was true. He suspected the devoted Augusta would wait forever for Henry. If only she would break off their engagement it would solve all their problems, but she would never do such a thing. And he could not ask it of his brother or else he would scandalize her for life.
Even if it did free of her of Henry. This foolish brother did not deserve the sweet Miss Snow one bit.
Miles watched the dancers in front of them, twirling gleefully with a joy he could not feel. He seldom attended events like this but he had known Brook Waverley since he was a boy and could hardly turn down an invite to his engagement ball.
Walsingham leaned back in his chair. “You know, I thought you might offer for her once upon a time. You seemed rather sweet on her.”
Miles was about to take a sip of his port. Thankfully he didn’t or else he might have choked on it. “Offer for her?”
Walsingham lifted his shoulders. “Did you not have that history together? Spending time together as children etcetera?”
“It is hardly history. We did spend some time together as children but I’m four years her senior and could hardly count myself as interested.” The lie felt true enough seeing as he had told it to himself many a time over the years.
Roberts wagged a finger at him. “Now that’s not true.”
“I was never interested,” Miles insisted.
“No, what I mean is that you do share history. You saved her life once, is that not right?” Roberts pressed.
Walsingham nodded. “Oh yes, I recall the story. She nearly drowned, did she not? I remember some piece about it in the papers years later—regaling you as some kind of hero.”
Miles tried not think of that day. He had been convinced that Augusta was dead when he hauled her from the lake at his father’s estate. She had been thirteen and he almost an adult and she had seemed so fragile in his arms. Thankfully he had managed to get her to cough up any water she swallowed and she recovered quite rapidly. But he did not consider that history as such. No, she and Henry had shared many more memories.
Perhaps, if he had not been so busy with taking up his position as viscount when their father had passed, he would have been able to step in and talk to his brother—ensure that the match never happened. Alas, he had been dealing with the grief of his mother, himself, and all that came with taking over his father’s role—not to mention the mess he’d created by living a less than angelic lifestyle previous to his sudden elevation to lordship. He regretted deeply he had not been more involved in his brother’s affairs.
Walsingham took a long draw of port. “Well, history or not, I would not be letting that woman out of my sight. Some scoundrel will swoop in and take her from your brother.” Walsingham grinned. “If she were not your brother’s, I could not claim that I might not be that scoundrel.”
Miles narrowed his gaze at his friend. As much as they got along, Miles could not always agree with Walsingham’s moral path. Miles might have lived less than salubrious lifestyle in his early twenties but he’d never seduced women at the rate that Walsingham did—if at all. However, his friend was right. He had returned home specifically to find Augusta after hearing some murmurings that she was tiring of waiting for his brother. Regardless of how he felt about anything, he could not see her harm her reputation because his brother was a fool.
He finished the second glass of port and stood. “As much as I hate to admit it, you are right, Walsingham. I shall go have a word with her friends over there. Perhaps they can apprise me as to her current state of mind. And I can find out if there are any other potential suitors waiting in the wings.”
Roberts chuckled and lifted a glass in salute. “Good luck.”
Miles cut a path across the dancefloor toward the two women. Waverley’s fiancé looked extremely bored, while the other seemed uncomfortable. He knew of Mrs. Joanna Lockhart but did not know Miss Larkin all that well. Even as he approached, she did not seem to notice his presence. Mrs. Lockhart straightened her shoulders and offered a polite smile.
“My Lord, we do not see you in Hampshire much. It is a surprise to see you here tonight.”
Miles dipped his head to both women. Miss Larkin peered up at him and brushed a red curl from her face. “You scared away our friend, Sir.”
“Forgive me. It was unintended.” He bowed. “May I offer my congratulations on your engagement, Miss Larkin. I am certain you shall be very happy.”
A genuine smile lit across the woman’s face as both women rose from their seats. “I think we shall.”
“Viscount Ashwick is a friend to Miss Snow, I believe.” Mrs. Lockhart eyed him. “Is that not true?”
“They did not seem much like friends,” muttered Miss Larkin.
“It is true,” Miles agreed. “I had hoped to speak with her.”
“Do you have news of your brother? You know, she is quite fed up with waiting. You really ought to have better control of your sibling.” A slight smile curved the Miss Larkin’s lips as though she had enjoyed scolding him.
“Chloe,” muttered Mrs. Lockhart. “I am certain Lord Ashwick is doing his best to ensure his brother fulfils his duties.” Though Mrs. Lockhart’s tones were dulcet, he suspected there was an edge to her words.
Not that he blamed either woman. It seemed Augusta had been explicit in her annoyance at being made to wait for Henry. It was a fine thing that he had come to Hampshire after all. He really did need to speak to Augusta and persuade her to wait for Henry. For all his brother’s faults, Miles owed it to him to protect his interests.
“I have no news, I’m afraid. But I do wish to speak with Augusta on the matter. Let me assure you that I do not find it any more acceptable than she does.”
“Well, I think you have scared her off for the night. You may have to find her another time.” Miss Larkin waved a dismissive hand.
“I really would like to speak to her,” he implored the two women, feeling as though he was addressing the gatekeepers.
“I’m quite sure you can call upon her.” Mrs. Lockhart frowned.
He could. But then he would have an audience. I
f these mutterings of her discontent were true, he did not wish to reveal such things in front of her family. It was better that they spoke alone. Although they were in a room with a hundred people, there was enough noise to ensure that they could have a private conversation. Far easier than sitting in her drawing room with the door wide open to her parents.
“I am certain you understand that this is a delicate matter. There are things that Augusta might not wish to be shared. I was hoping I might snatch a little time alone with her. Do you perhaps know when she might be attending another party?”
Miss Larkin and Mrs. Lockhart shared a look. Miss Larkin gave a sigh. “Your best chance is to catch her riding close to home.”
Miles nodded. Of course, it should have been obvious. Augusta had always adored horses. He would have to make a visit to her family’s stables, perhaps even discuss the purchase of an animal with her father to give him a good reason to go there. It would give him a chance to keep an eye on her and have a private word or two.
After all, it was perfectly natural to wish to keep an eye on his brother’s interests. This was nothing at all about wanting to see her. Even if he could not get that first glimpse of her after over two years out of his mind. He simply felt terrible for her. As Viscount Ashwick, he had a duty. A duty to this woman and a duty to his brother.
That was all this was about. Duty. And nothing else at all.
Chapter Three
Arms propped upon the fence, Augusta tilted her head and rested it against her forearm. From here, she watched the farrier lead the new horse around the paddock. Though the air was becoming tinged with the light chill of the approaching Autumn on some days, a shudder ran down her spine for which she could not blame the weather as it was quite temperate today. She squinted up at the sun, half covered by a delicate wisp of a cloud that did little to dampen its power. Certainly not the weather’s fault.
No, the tremors attacked every time she recalled her behavior last night. She should never have run away from Miles. But how could she face him? It was all too embarrassing. He knew better than anyone that his brother had no interest in returning to her. At least in the ballrooms, the gossips did not know the truth. Certainly she overheard them pondering her fate. Will he ever return? they asked. Why does he not set a date? Perhaps he has changed his mind? But to all of those people, it was still questions.
To Miles, it was fact.
And if there was anyone she did not want to look a fool in front of, it was him.
She snorted to herself and lowered her head to press it against her arm. What a fine job she’d done of that!
If only she had never accepted Henry. She should have known it was too good to be true. Henry was charming, attractive, and though he was the second son, she was no lady. Her family had enough wealth and stature to hold their own, but she could never have expected to marry into nobility. She was beginning to suspect Henry had only offered for her out of grief or perhaps some sense of duty. His father had been sickening and passed away just prior to him asking her to marry him. If she looked back, his proposal was surely due to how muddled his mind had been. Augusta had been there, as a family friend, to offer a shoulder to cry on.
Apparently, that shoulder was no longer of interest to him.
She raised her head to see her father in the distance, riding his favorite horse around the fields that surrounded their home. Most of the land was either for farming or pasture and they owned a fair amount but nothing like the acres that Miles and his family owned.
“Are you not riding today, Gus Gus?”
Augusta twisted and smiled at her mother. “Not today, Mama. I think I am a little tired from the ball.”
Her mother tilted her head. “You did not dance at all. How can you be tired?”
Augusta peered at her mother, who looked as fresh-faced as ever despite their arrival home in the early hours of the morning. None of them could have had more than five hours of sleep and were it not for the temptation to see the new horse, Augusta might have remained in bed past lunchtime.
Unfortunately, the idea of riding did not appeal today. Nothing seemed to appeal. She was feeling supremely sorry for herself, and she loathed herself for it. Had she not said yesterday to her friends that she would do better? That she would show Henry what he was missing?
She blew out a breath. The problem was, she did not quite know how to start. She had been quiet her entire life. Were it not for Henry offering for her hand, she could not have imagined how she might meet a husband. She had always rather hoped some bookish, equally quiet man might find her appealing and then they could live a quiet life together.
“Gus Gus?”
Augusta resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the nickname. Everyone had been calling her that since she was a girl and could not pronounce her own name. Though it did not usually bother her, she wished her mother would not call her it in public.
“I am well enough, Mama. I just do not feel like riding today.”
Her mother shifted a little closer and pushed a strand of gray hair from her face. “Did someone…”
“Yes?”
She cleared her throat. “Someone say something?”
“Well, I imagine lots of people said lots of things. Conversation does tend to happen at a ball.”
Her mother tutted. “You know that is not what I mean.”
“I am afraid I am at a loss as to what you are saying.”
“I saw that Lord Ashwick was in attendance last night. Did you speak with him?”
What she meant was, had there been any news of Henry? Oh how she hated to disappoint her family like this. They were almost more eager than her to have a date set.
Augusta shook her head. “I did not.”
“It is unusual for him to bother with such events.” Her mother leaned on the fence and Augusta joined her as they watched their father ride past elegantly. “Though he really ought to attend more. He is quite the catch and could do with a wife to help him with his duties.”
Augusta scowled to herself. Miles had shown little interest in marrying, even though he would be a fool not to understand it was part of his duty. She was secretly glad in a way. Somehow, she could not bear to see him marry. It was most likely because if he married it would remind her of her still unmarried state.
Yes, that had to be the reason for the churning in her stomach when she considered him gaining a wife.
“Well,” Mama said, “perhaps he shall attend the next event. You can speak to him then.”
Augusta said nothing. If she could avoid him again, she would. Growing up, there had been few people she had admired more than Miles. He had always seemed so dashing and grown-up. How embarrassing it was for him to know Henry had no interest in her.
“Augusta?”
Augusta and her mother turned to find Joanna and Chloe approaching. Augusta allowed herself a little smile. Though her friends had expressed an interest in coming to view the new horse, she had not really expected them to come. Especially so soon.
Mama pressed a hand to Augusta’s arm. “I shall leave you ladies to it.”
Smiling her thanks, Augusta nodded to her mother. They had a close enough relationship that her mother understood how lonely and frustrated she was becoming, especially with all her friends marrying. Her fairly new friendship with Joanna and Chloe had made the Season in London all the more tolerable.
“I did not expect you to come so soon.” Augusta joined the two ladies, dipping in greeting.
Joanna unlinked her arm from Chloe’s. “It was my idea. I ran into Chloe at the tearoom and we decided we should make a day of it.”
“And because Joanna is here, we need no escort.” Chloe wagged her eyebrows.
“Can you show us the new horse?” Joanna asked.
“Of course.” Augusta glanced at the paddock. “I think Mr. Jones has taken the horse back to the stables.”
“I’m afraid I know next to nothing about horses,” confessed Chloe. “My mother always despair
ed that I showed no interest in them as a child.”
“Well you do not need to know anything about them to appreciate them.” Augusta led them toward the stables. “Our horses are extremely friendly. I am sure you shall like them.”
They finished a tour around the stables and strolled out toward the thin stream that cut across much of the estates in the area and would eventually lead to the River Wey. After a fall into a lake years ago, it was about the only body of water she minded being near.
The three of them sank onto the grass and Chloe fished a pebble out of the stream and flung it back into the water. “The Lord Ashwick asked after you last night,” she said.
“And Chloe scolded him heartily for scaring you away,” Joanna added with a smile.
Augusta pressed her lips together. “I must have looked a fool.”
“Not at all,” Joanna assured her.
Augusta was not so sure. Scurrying away from her fiancé’s brother had not been her cleverest of moves and was entirely unnecessary. She swallowed. “I suspect that he wishes to tell me that Henry has broken off the engagement.”
Chloe gasped. “No!” “
“He’s a damned scoundrel if he does.” Joanna shook her head. “He shall ruin you.”
Augusta bit down on her bottom lip, it was true. None would want to touch her after a broken engagement. She would most certainly be a spinster for the rest of her days. And yet, a vague sense of relief washed over her when she thought of the agony of waiting would be put to an end.
“There is little I can do about what Henry decides,” she said more calmly than she felt. “But I can assure that I will come out of this with my head held high.”
“You have nothing of which to be ashamed,” Joanna said determinedly.
“I know. But…” Augusta twined her fingers together in her lap.
“But?” Chloe pressed.
“But there is this part of me, this part very deep down I suppose. That thinks I should come away from this…I do not know…somehow different.” She untangled her fingers. “You know how we spoke of showing Henry what he was missing. Well, perhaps I can still show him. He might not just change his mind but I would rather show the world that I am not shamed by his actions.” She blew out a breath. “I’m so very tired of their pity.”
Married to the Lord (The Wallflower Brides Book 2) Page 2