Married to the Lord (The Wallflower Brides Book 2)

by Samantha Holt

  He ground his teeth together and weighed his options. One of the men was Edward Jenkins, heir to a shipping fortune and new money. It didn’t matter much to Miles where his damned money came from, but it did matter that the man had a reputation for ruining young ladies like it was a sport. Even if Augusta was not engaged to his brother, Miles still would not want her getting involved with someone like Jenkins.

  There was no missing the scowls of the other men as he entered the group. Augusta’s gaze flew to his face, her eyes widening. “Miles,” she said breathlessly.

  “It is nice to see you, Augusta,” he said, dipping his head and inserting himself bodily between Augusta and Jenkins.

  “You...you too.”

  He almost regretted coming closer. She wore a little makeup that emphasized her dark eyes and full lips. Clearly, he had not learned his lesson as he found himself wanting to drag her away to another balcony and kiss her all over again. If they were not standing in Sir Clifton’s garden, surrounded by likely one hundred people, he was fairly certain he might try to take her in his arms again. What sort of an ass of a man had such thoughts about his brother’s fiancée? Sometimes, he suspected he had not changed so much from his younger years as he liked to think.

  “Anyway,” Jenkins said boldly, “you should most certainly come. Invite your friends. Mrs. Lockhart can act as chaperone, can she not?”

  “Chaperone?” Miles asked.

  “Oh, just a little soiree,” Jenkins said, waving a hand. “We have just opened up Carlton Manor for the summer. You must know it, Ashwick. It has quite the reputation.”

  Miles clenched his jaw at the title-less use of his name. He rarely cared for formalities but he and Jenkins were not well-acquainted enough for speaking as though they were friends. And he did know of the house, which had been let out to the Jenkins’ family for quite the price. It was over the border in Surrey and too far for Augusta to travel with just her friends as far as he was concerned.

  “I do know of it, Mr. Jenkins,” he said with emphasis. “I used to spend time there in the summers when the Ferriers owned it. A fine house indeed, if in need of modernization.”

  Augusta issued a tiny gasp and Miles regretted the petty jab.

  “I am certain Miss Snow here would appreciate the gardens and the house.” Jenkins kept his gaze fixed firmly on Augusta and Miles could not help glower down at him.

  The man was average height and attractive in a polished manner with fair hair and even features. The smile he offered Augusta left Miles in no doubt as to why innocent women fell for him. Miles could not claim to understand the techniques these men used to charm women but it clearly worked. A slight blush had worked its way into Augusta’s cheeks.

  “They do sound wonderful,” she admitted. “I have always had a hankering to visit Carlton Manor.”

  “Well, then it is decided.” Jenkins shot Miles a smug look. “I shall send an official invite soon.”

  Miles cleared his throat and Augusta reluctantly looked his way. “I wonder if I might have a word,” he asked.

  She opened her mouth and he knew she intended to make an excuse.

  “It is about Henry. Your fiancé,” he added with a look toward Jenkins.

  The man did not seem abashed but Augusta’s cheeks reddened and she nodded, following him away from the crowd of men who appeared sorely disappointed at losing Augusta. Damn them all. They had no right to even look at her like they did. No right to talk to her, to invite her to soirees.

  Christ, not that he was any better. He was probably looking at her exactly the same way.

  “Do you have news of Henry?” she asked once they reached a rose bush, budding with pale pink flowers. She touched one of the petals with gloved hands, avoiding his gaze, and his whole body ached with the need to rip off those white gloves and feel her bare fingers against him rather than a damned flower.

  “I needed to speak with you.”

  “So this is not about Henry?”

  “Gus, look at me.”

  Her gaze eased reluctantly over to him.

  “I...” He groaned inwardly. “Let us walk a little,” he offered, indicating down a path that led between more rose bushes. He was a coward, but the problem was, he did not feel one jot sorry for the kiss. Sorry that he had betrayed his brother to be sure, and sorry that he could have damaged her reputation. Not sorry for the actual kiss. If things were different...

  But they were not. Despite Augusta’s sudden interest in the opposite sex and willingness to kiss him, deep down, she loved Henry. And why should she not? He might be a little wayward but he was handsome, charming, and a good man. Miles owed him a hell of a lot. Without Henry, Miles might very well have been dead in a gutter a few years ago. Really, it was right that Augusta and Henry were together. They deserved each other very much. If only he could persuade Henry to actually come home and claim her.

  All his problems would be solved then and he wouldn’t have to think on the kiss ever again.

  They strolled in silence for a while. A gentle breeze brushed the ribbons of her bonnet, sending them curling around her face. She swept them aside with a little annoyed grunt and Miles tucked his hands behind his back to resist the temptation of sorting them out for her. When they came to where the path branched off and too far away from the party for their time together to be proper, Miles stopped. Augusta looked at him expectantly with dark eyes that made him wonder if she could see inside his soul—see quite how dirty and black it was. Though, she should have figured that out by now. There were few good men who would kiss their brother’s fiancée.

  “I must apologize for that night...”

  She blinked at him. “What night?”

  The words hurt, jabbing straight into his heart like a pointed spear. Surely she remembered?

  He cleared his throat. “The night where I...uh...kissed you.”

  “Oh.”

  Her lips formed a lovely ‘o’ shape that made him want to take her face in his hands again and kiss her until he had her knees trembling and her body capitulated to him. Damn it. He shouldn’t have walked this far or taken this long to gather his courage. It would be far too easy to slip off somewhere without anyone noticing. He could dirty her skirts and muss her hair to his heart’s content.

  God, he really was a cad.

  “Anyway, I wanted you to know that I regret that action. Deeply. You...you are my brother’s fiancée.” His throat tightened over those last words. “Even if you were not, to kiss you like that, in public...it was utterly unacceptable.”

  “I see.”

  “You do not forgive me?” He shook his head and smiled. “Of course you do not. And I have no right to expect it.” He eyed her. “Gus, how is it you can make a man feel even more heartily ashamed of himself with but two words?”

  “I do not mean to make you feel ashamed, I swear it.” She plucked a leaf from a nearby tree and twined it between her fingers, keeping her gaze lowered.

  “I think perhaps you take a little pleasure in it.”

  She lifted her head. “You tease me!” She flung aside the leaf. “You know I would never take pleasure in such a thing.”

  “Perhaps.” He gave a half-smile. “But at least then I get a response from you.”

  “I...” Her chest rose as she took a breath and he could not help but watch the enticing movement. “I accept your apology.”

  “Good.”

  “And I think it best we forget the whole matter. Call it a moment of madness, if you will.”

  “Madness? Yes, I suppose it was something like that.”

  Augusta certainly seemed to bring him to the edge of insanity but he doubted she understood quite how or why.

  She smiled but it did not reach her eyes. “I do not think it serves either of us to dwell on it.”

  “So you shall put it from your mind then?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “What a fine thing it is to know one can be put from Augusta Snow’s mind with such ease,” he dr
awled, unable to help himself.

  “If you are trying to imply I have any ability of wounding your ego, Miles, I would call you a liar.” She lifted her chin and eyed him head-on. “You are a titled gentleman with above average looks and a fine way about him. I am certain there are many kisses in your past and in your future, and you shall forget me quite readily.”

  “I am glad to know I have above average looks.”

  “Oh.” She lifted her hands and threw them down. “You are determined to be obtuse today.”

  “Forgive me. I am done being obtuse.” He lifted a hand. “I swear it.”

  She pursed her lips. “Very well.”

  “We had better head back to the party before you are missed.” He glanced sideways at her while they followed the rose-scented path back to the main gardens. “Mr. Jenkins is likely missing you a great deal.”

  “I doubt he is that bothered by me. There was plenty of pretty young women in attendance.”

  “Still, I think you should be wary. Jenkins has quite the reputation.”

  “I know many men with reputations.” She arched a brow.

  “Yes, yes, I am a fine one to talk but please, Gus, be careful of him. I should hate to see something happen to you.”

  “What? Like be kissed by him perhaps?” she asked archly.

  Miles almost smiled at the barb. It was rare the prickly side of Augusta made an appearance but he had rattled her quite hard, it seems.

  “Just be careful,” he urged.

  “You are not my keeper, Miles.”

  No, he wasn’t, and she should be grateful, because if he was, he’d keep her damn well locked away from every man and have her for himself. He sighed inwardly. This talk had done nothing apart from make her mildly annoyed with him and demonstrate one thing—he was as obsessed with Augusta as ever.

  Chapter Seven

  “I am not certain I can do this.” Augusta stilled at the bottom of the steps that led up to Carlton Manor.

  Dressed in sandy bricks, tall columns, and high pediments that jutted out with all the dominance of the bow of a ship bearing down upon them, she could well understand why the house had such a reputation.

  “Maybe Miles was right,” she murmured to herself upon hearing the chatter and laughter emanating from one of the open windows. It was still early—only three o’clock in the afternoon—but it sounded as though some guests had been drinking for a while already.

  “Come on, Augusta,” Joanna urged, taking her arm. “There is no chance I am travelling all that way back home without at least a peek inside Carlton Manor.”

  “You’ll be fine,” said Chloe, who was accompanied by her fiancé Brook. “After all, we are here with you.”

  “I promised your parents I would look after you all,” agreed Brook. “Jenkins is known for some rather...boisterous events but I vow I shall not let anything untoward happen.”

  “Why else do you think Brook came?” Chloe said, her brow arched. “He does not trust us alone.”

  “Was it not you who complained of being invited, Chlo?” Brook’s lips curved. “Something to do with preferring to stay home and read?”

  Chloe tapped her fiancé’s arm with a gloved palm. “We are here to support Augusta.”

  “And support her we will.” Brook shot a dashing smile her way and Augusta could well understand why Chloe had fallen for him. Dark-haired, handsome, and with a charming—if flirtatious—manner about him, he seemed to bring out the best in Chloe.

  Well, they seemed to bring the best out in each other. Augusta imagined that was rather the perfect concoction for a marriage.

  It did warm her cheeks, however, to know that Brook understood the reasonings behind her sudden interest in parties and gatherings. It was a little embarrassing that one had to practically change oneself to get a fiancé’s attention. Not that it was working. There was still no word from Henry and only Miles seemed to be paying any heed. That was certainly not what she wanted.

  Was it?

  No, absolutely not. Straightening her shoulders, she walked up the steps with Joanna. They entered into a grand marbled hallway, large enough to fit a small house in. Nude statues in various poses of pleasure were tucked into corners and Augusta looked away. Her mother would think such a thing was in terrible taste and Augusta could not help agree. She appreciated fine artistry as much as anyone but there were some things that should not be used to greet one’s guests.

  A butler took their coats and ushered them into the drawing room. Augusta’s mouth dried. When Mr. Jenkins had said a little soiree, she had foolishly believed him. Instead there were at least forty people spread between two drawing rooms. The doors at the end of the first room were pushed wide open, allowing her to see almost all of the guests. As they walked in, heads turned in their direction and she wished she could shrink until she was a mere few inches high then scurry away like a mouse.

  “Goodness, this is quite the gathering,” Joanna murmured.

  Augusta blew out a breath. Had she not vowed to cease being the shy, quiet mouse who would rather scurry away and be unnoticed? If she left now, she’d prove Miles right—that she did not belong amongst these people. Even though there was the tiniest part of her that had been glad he cared where she went, she could not let him dictate her every move. Especially if she was ever going to get Henry home.

  Mr. Jenkins approached, revealing a flash of white, even teeth. He was attractive in a carefully polished manner. She suspected he took a great deal of time over his appearance, which she supposed was better than taking none at all but it led her to believe he could be quite vain.

  Unlike Miles.

  Lord, where did that come from? She had told him she would forget anything ever happened and yet here she was, comparing other men to him. What folly.

  Mr. Jenkins greeted them all then fixed his attention on Augusta. His blue gaze made her feel a little breathless but not quite in the way he likely hoped. Although she was certainly getting better at engaging with men, it still left her feeling all hot and flustered, and her hands shook a little, making it hard to take the offered glass of sherry when a servant came around.

  “So, do you like the house?” he asked.

  “It is certainly beautiful.”

  “It was built for royalty originally but it seems old George tired of it too quickly.”

  Augusta nodded. “Yes, I had heard.”

  “I should like to take you on a tour of it later,” Mr. Jenkins said, leaning in a little too close.

  “I am sure we would be delighted,” Joanna replied for her, keeping Augusta’s arm tightly linked with hers.

  Mr. Jenkins smiled again but the smile did not reach his eyes. “Well, do enjoy yourselves. We have plenty to eat and drink and, as you can see, some of the finest company in the country.”

  Augusta glanced around at the men and women gathered. Indeed, there were some well-known faces in the room. Most were younger and highly fashionable. Many of them could be found in the gossip columns too. As much as Augusta wanted to show Henry she would not wait around for him, she was not certain she wished to end up as a line of text.

  She and Joanna strolled around the room while Chloe accompanied Brook, who had met some old friends. Joanna laid a hand on Augusta’s arms. “I knew of Mr. Jenkins reputation but this crowd is quite the insalubrious one.”

  “I fear you are right.”

  “Well, at least we can say we have seen the house and attended the party. Surely Henry will hear of this and you can consider it another success in your plan to show him what he is missing.”

  Augusta grimaced. “It sounds so frivolous and silly when you say it like that.”

  “Not silly,” said Joanna, sinking onto a spare chaise longue that sat beneath one of the open windows. A fresh breeze washed over Augusta’s bare neck and shoulders as she sank next to her friend onto the plush velvet. It made her itch to be outside, riding horses, and/or walking. Anything other than being here.

  She glanced aro
und at the guests. All were dressed fashionably and appeared to be having a riot of a time. This was not her. Oh Lord, this was really not her. What had she been thinking?

  “Augusta, as a woman, one must do whatever she can to secure her future. You should have no shame in wishing to prove to Henry that he cannot just leave you here all alone. Any man should be lucky to have you.” Joanna’s lips tilted. “You have already proven yourself attractive to other men.”

  “Do not say it.”

  “Miles could not resist you, could he, after all.” Joanna’s smile turned mischievous. “Imagine what Henry would think if he knew.”

  “If he knew, he would never return and I would be ruined forever,” Augusta said glumly.

  “All I am saying is that you are an excellent catch and I am glad Miles recognized it, even if he is not the man for you.”

  “I’m not sure what Miles recognized.” Augusta tweaked the seams of her gloves until they were perfectly straight.

  Joanna gave her a little nudge. “That he cannot resist you.”

  “I doubt it was that. Miles is far too....well…far too something for me. And we both vowed to put that moment from our mind so I would be grateful if you do not bring it up again.”

  Joanna sighed dramatically. “A widow has to find entertainment somewhere. Is it wrong for me to enjoy that my friend is finally getting the attention she deserves?”

  “I am beginning to feel utterly foolish about the whole matter. Especially now M—”

  “Especially now Miles is paying you attention.”

  “Well, I certainly did not expect anything so...so messy to happen.”

  “Let us forget the matter, as you said, and concentrate on our plans to ensure you have some fun while waiting for the useless Henry.”

  “He is not useless, he is just...” Augusta let her shoulders droop. “He is just busy, that is all,” she said softly.

  Of course, the words sounded ridiculous. For so long she had been defending Henry, pretending there was good reason for him being gone for so long. After all, he was a good man. Everyone who met Henry said as much. He was about the nicest man she had ever known and she had known him all his life and it made sense that they should be together and…well there were so many reasons, it was hard to name them all.