Married to the Lord (The Wallflower Brides Book 2)

by Samantha Holt

  Not to mention she had waited this long.

  “I see those gentlemen appear interested in you, Augusta. I think it is the new hairstyle. It is quite becoming against your features.”

  Augusta could not deny that the softer look that her maid had created for her today brought out her lips and accentuated her long neck. She had almost felt like her hair no longer swallowed her whole once she was dressed and made up for the day. It was a lot of work, however, and she was not at all certain she could keep up these habits forever.

  She glanced over at the men in question who were gathered near the empty fireplace. She recalled two of them from the garden party but could not for the life of her remember their names. Unfortunately, seeing Miles had just about erased any useful information all together from that day.

  Swallowing, she nodded. “I suppose we should appear interested.”

  “Yes, let’s. The taller one is quite handsome.” Joanna looked at them boldly, her smile inviting. Augusta attempted to do the same.

  Joanna glanced at her. “Perhaps I should do the inviting. You just look out of the window and appear disinterested.”

  “I thought I was meant to look interested.”

  “Well, some men like disinterest. It presents a challenge.”

  With a shrug, Augusta turned her head and peered out of the window to look at the rear gardens. They were likely glorious but she was too aware of the men approaching from the periphery of her vision. Joanna was right—the men liked her appearance of disinterest. Lord, would she ever understand the opposite sex? At least with Henry it had been simple. She adored him and he claimed to like her very much. She was not so certain now. It had been at a strange time in Henry’s life that he had proposed and looking back, she rather suspected he had done it to assuage some of his grief over his father’s death. Still, they knew each other well and there had been no need for flirting or pretending interest or disinterest.

  Joanna gave her a nudge with an elbow and Augusta scowled before realizing the men were upon them. Augusta hastened to rise from her seat and greet the men. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brook watching them carefully—taking his role as chaperone seriously indeed.

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Snow,” said the taller man.

  Augusta murmured something vague in response while frantically hunting her mind for the names of the gentlemen. The information had vanished, though, and she did not think anything could summon it back. The men did not seem to mind and engaged her and Joanna in conversation of hunts and riding—the men doing the majority of the conversing. After a while, Augusta’s mouth hurt from smiling and her feet were beginning to throb in her attractive but too tight shoes. She looked about the room and realized the party was dissolving into something more, with cards being played for what looked to be large sums of money and the volume of the laughter and chatter increasing with the consumption of vast amounts of alcohol. She caught Chloe’s eye as she stood rigidly next to Brook, neither of them appearing happy about where this party may lead.

  “Joanna,” Augusta said quietly, “I think Mr. Waverly may be ready to leave.”

  Joanna shared a look with Augusta and nodded. “I think you might be right. Forgive us, gentlemen, but our escort has another engagement.”

  A few protests went up but Joanna successfully disengaged them from the men. Before they reached Brook, Mr. Jenkins stepped in front of them both. “Not leaving already?” His words were slurred and his skin shone with sweat. His jacket had also vanished along with his cravat. Any pretense of being a gentleman had appeared to have vanished.

  “Yes, we must be going.” Joanna smiled politely but made to move past him, taking Augusta with her. “Thank you so much for—”

  Mr. Jenkins put his hands to Augusta’s waist, twirling her away from Joanna into some sort of waltz-like dance. She gasped and tried to push his hands from her waist but he kept a firm grip on her, twirling her and twirling her until she grew dizzied. “I must show you the house,” he said when he finally stopped.

  “Mr. Jenkins...”

  “A private tour. What do you say?”

  “Mr. Jenkins, I really—”

  “I suggest you release Miss. Snow,” came a deep voice. She looked to see Brook glowering down at Mr. Jenkins.

  “We are just having a little dance, Waverly,” Mr. Jenkins said dismissively.

  “Unhand her or I shall be forced to make you,” Brook said between clenched teeth.

  The golden-haired man glanced Brook up and down and she felt his hold ease enough for her to slip away.

  “You shall just have to come back for a tour another day,” Mr. Jenkins said brightly. “Without your ogre here keeping guard hopefully.”

  Brook curled a fist and Augusta whirled away, not bothering to respond to their host. Chloe tugged on her fiancé’s arm and they left the building swiftly before a fight could break out.

  “I should not have agreed to bring you here,” Brook muttered. “I could see where this damned party was heading an hour ago. I should have forced you all to leave.”

  “You know very well you could not force us to do anything we do not wish to do,” Joanna pointed out. “Besides, we did what we needed to do. Augusta attended another party where she garnered quite a lot of attention. There were plenty of people there who know Henry. Word of her success will spread, I am certain.”

  Augusta shuddered. She was not certain she wanted news of her attendance to such an event to be talked of.

  “Do not be disheartened, Augusta,” Joanna said. “We shall make your Henry return, I promise.”

  Augusta nodded slowly but she could not help wonder if she really wanted him back.

  Chapter Eight

  He knew very well what he was doing when he came here but Miles still felt a fool when he spotted Augusta riding back toward her house. When he’d spoken to her father with regards to the Henry matter and promised to try harder to bring Henry home, he’d half-hoped she would be at home.

  He’d also hoped she would not be.

  Either way, it left him in a tangled mess.

  Blowing out a breath, he redirected his horse and headed toward the stables so he could speak with her. She deserved to know that he had discussed this Henry situation with her father. He also wanted to find out what had happened at Jenkins’ party. He’d already heard from Brook Waverly that her afternoon at Jenkins’ had been disastrous. Waverly also mentioned that Augusta was quite popular with several gentlemen there. He tightened his grip on the reins and his horse gave an uncertain couple of steps to the side. He forced himself to relax. At least Waverly had been there to ensure nothing untoward had happened. But, damn it, Henry needed to return home—fast—before something else happened.

  He dismounted when he reached the stables. Augusta must have already taken her horse into the stables. The long brick building was modest compared to his own stables but still housed several horses, such was the family’s passion for them. He paused at the open doorway, hearing voices coming from the stall at the right. It only took him a moment to realize Augusta was not conversing with a groom but that bloody Jenkins. The man had some gall to be sure.

  Miles eased around the doorway and waited for his eyes to adjust to the shadows. Three stalls down, he spotted Augusta, who faced him and Jenkins. Augusta tried to move past the man but he stepped in front of her.

  “I thought you would be happy to see me,” Miles heard him say. “I was saddened you could not stay at my party.” He laughed. “It turned into quite the event.”

  From what Miles had heard, half of the guests ended up retreating to rooms for less than proper reasons. He was only grateful Brook had the sense to see what was about to happen and ensured they left safely.

  “Mr. Jenkins, if you do not mind—”

  Augusta didn’t see Miles but made another attempt to move past Jenkins. He grabbed her arms and crushed her against him. Miles waited no longer. In a few short paces, he had Jenkins by the back
of his neck, hauling him away from Augusta. The man spluttered and protested but Miles didn’t hear a word. He’d seen the grip he’d had on Augusta, the desire in his eyes, the determination to have her no matter what. Every inch of him was hot with anger. He balled a fist and struck him hard across the jaw. The sound of the contact echoed off the bricks. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Augusta let out a cry.

  Sprawled on the ground, Jenkins lay there for a few moments, dazed. Slowly, he eased himself up onto his elbows. “Damn you, Ashwick, that hurt. Can’t a man have a little fun with a beautiful woman?”

  “Not that sort of fun.” Miles ground his teeth together. Were it not for Augusta in the periphery of his vision, he’d likely lay the man out with another punch. He flexed a fist then thrust a finger in Jenkins’ direction. “Come here again and I will call you out. And I warn you, I am known for being an excellent shot.”

  Jenkins looked Miles up and down then glanced at Augusta. Cradling his jaw, he climbed to his feet. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it, shaking his head and walking out of the stables. Miles waited until he was certain Jenkins was gone before turning to Augusta. She rubbed her arms where Jenkins had held her.

  “Did he hurt you?” Miles glanced down at his own knuckles that were red and throbbing. Not painfully enough for him to feel satisfied though. The bastard deserved more than a punch for his behavior. Augusta might not have understood how close she was to being ravished but Miles recognized Jenkins’ determination too well—he’d spent time with men like that in his past and he regretted ever breaking bread with them.

  “Just a little pinch.”

  He pushed up her sleeve to see the red marks that would likely turn into fingerprints. “Bastard,” he muttered, regretting the word when Augusta jolted. “Forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. Thank you,” she whispered.

  “He has no standards, that man.”

  “I realized that. Unfortunately not quickly enough. You were right to say I should stay away from him,” she admitted.

  “If it helps, I take no pleasure in being right.”

  She looked up at him with a little smile and tugged down her sleeve. “I am not certain I believe you.”

  “Very well.” He motioned with his fingers, indicating a small amount. “I take a tiny bit of pleasure in it but it is most minuscule I promise.”

  “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “A pleasure to see you too,” he said, his lips tilted.

  She gave a reluctant smile. “Forgive me. I just did not expect to see you.”

  “I was here to speak with your father about Henry.”

  “Oh.”

  There it was again. That lovely ‘o’ shape that made him want to press her against the bricks and capture her mouth with his.

  “I have promised him that I will do my best to ensure Henry returns.” His throat tightened. “To you,” he added, his voice gruff.

  “Oh,” she repeated.

  “I would have thought you would be glad.”

  “No, I am. Of course. It’s just...” She sighed. “Do you, perchance, have time for a quick stroll? I doubt my parents will notice my slightly longer absence.”

  He should say no, of course. It was too dangerous for him to be alone with her, as he had so proved.

  “Yes,” he said, his own voice betraying him. Damn it.

  They headed toward a coppice, set away from the house, in silence. The shadowy entrance beckoned them inside, offering privacy and a little shade from what was proving to be a warm day. Miles said nothing, too aware of his own heartbeat and her proximity for his liking. As soon as they entered the meandering path that sliced through the modest gathering of trees, his awareness of her heightened tenfold. Perhaps because they were alone. Hidden. Out of view. If he so wanted, he could kiss her again and no one would ever know.

  He blew out a heated breath through his nostrils. And, damn, did he want to.

  Sneaking a sideways glance at her, he forced his expression to remain neutral. She had already suffered enough with that bastard Jenkins today. The last thing she needed was her fiancé’s brother muddying the waters yet again. Apparently he was not nearly sorry enough about kissing her because all he could think of was pushing her up against a tree and tasting that sweet, sweet mouth once more.

  Augusta slowed her pace and finally came to a stop when they came to an almost circular barren path in amongst the trees. She sank onto a fallen tree with a sigh and peered at the canopy above. Afternoon sunlight dripped through the leaves, speckling her in golden dapples. Miles’s mouth dried. Fire raced through his veins. Now he had enjoyed a taste of her, all he wanted was more. The mere thought of never touching her again, never feeling her body against him....not to mention watching her as his brother’s wife made his insides feel as though they were being scavenged by wolves. Each moment with her was like another swipe of claws. Slowly, he was unravelling.

  He straightened his shoulders. Which was why he needed to bring Henry home and put an end to this. Once they were married, he could make himself scarce. Spend some time in the house on the coast perhaps. Wherever they were, he would ensure he was not.

  Augusta picked a dandelion and blew at the seeds. A few fluttered to the ground and she began to pluck them off in little bunches, dropping them by her feet.

  “Augusta,” Miles prompted. As much as he could spend all day watching her doing the most mundane of things, he did have business to attend and the less time they were alone together, the better.

  She stopped and dropped the plant, offering him a meek smile. “Forgive me.” She swiped her hands down her skirt and stood, closing the gap between them once more. “You said you were here to speak to my father about Henry?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I—”

  “I was hoping I might get the chance to speak with you about him.”

  “Well, you can speak with him yourself.”

  Augusta blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I finally have word that he is returning home.”

  She drew in a long breath. “He is returning home?”

  “Indeed,” he said tightly, searching for the excitement in her gaze. It was there, was it not?

  “Home?” she repeated.

  “Yes?”

  “To here? From where he was?”

  “Henry is returning to Hampshire,” Miles confirmed.

  Augusta put fingers to her mouth. “Why?”

  “I am assuming to fulfill his obligation to you.” His jaw hurt as he forced the words out.

  “Well, I suppose…” She glanced at the floor. “I suppose that is good news.”

  “Yes, yes it is.”

  For her and Henry at least. Not for him, though.

  Chapter Nine

  “Is it true?” Chloe demanded.

  “Is what true?” Augusta asked.

  “That you have a…” She glanced around the busy tearoom. “Attachment to a certain viscount,” she hissed.

  Augusta clapped hands to her cheeks. “Pardon?” Surely she must have heard wrong.

  “Chloe!” Joanna scolded.

  Chloe shrugged. “Far better for her to hear it from us than someone else.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Augusta demanded, peering between her two friends who appeared decidedly uncomfortable. A rare thing indeed for Joanna.

  Chloe waited until an old couple passed by their table and leaned in across the embroidered tablecloth. “Brook said there was talk of you getting, um, close to...Lord Ashwick.” She mouthed the last part.

  A chill ran through Augusta, spreading down to her toes and making her release a little shudder. Her vision felt fuzzy for several moments while her heart picked up its pace. Surely no one had seen them kiss? And the only person she had told about it was Joanna. She trusted her friend implicitly.

  “Where did Brook hear this?” Augusta asked, her voice husky.

  “From a friend of his—Lord Benedict?”

/>   Joanna grimaced. “Lord Benedict could have heard it from anywhere. He is quite the sociable character.”

  Augusta resisted the urge to drop her forehead to the table and instead pinched the bridge of her nose. She could not fathom how Lord Benedict might have heard of such a rumor as he had not been in attendance at the party that night. Which meant it had to come from yet another source. And the more people who had heard such a thing, the worse it would be. It only took the faintest whisper of scandal to ruin a lady and an assignation with the brother of a fiancé was certain to ruin her, whether it be true or not.

  Unfortunately, it was true. At least as far as the kiss was concerned. They might have vowed to put it behind them and pursue a completely innocent relationship as brother and sister-in-law but it would not matter if word continued to spread.

  “Do you know what was said?” Augusta asked, her chin wobbling slightly. She clamped her teeth together to prevent it from happening again.

  “There were no details but Lord Benedict came to Brook out of kindness, knowing of our friendship.” Chloe reached across the table and rested a hand over Augusta’s. “Lord Benedict hardly knows you but you can be assured if he believes you above reproach, then so will everyone else.” Chloe laughed. “How could anyone believe such a rumor?”

  The chill vanished and was replaced with a swift heat, spreading its way rapidly through her body and up into her face.

  Chloe narrowed her gaze. “Augusta?”

  Joanna gave a subtle lift of her shoulders when August glanced at her for support.

  Augusta removed her hand from under Chloe’s and reached for the delicate china cup in front of her. She drained the last drops of tea before placing it unsteadily back onto its saucer. She took a breath, checked that no one was within earshot, and leaned in. “I kissed Miles,” she admitted. “Or he kissed me. Or we kissed each other.”