Married to the Lord (The Wallflower Brides Book 2)

by Samantha Holt

  He rested an elbow on the bar, relieved that the barkeep was no one who would recognize him. Many of the faces here were different, though he spotted a few from his time here—Beth, a prostitute known for her flexibility who had aged dramatically in the past years, her once red hair washed out into a premature pinkish white. Fat Giles was here too, a man with an eye for cards who no one could ever beat. Miles had suspected he cheated but had never been able to prove it. He remained hunched over in his usual corner, chewing on the corner of his lip—a fake tell used to deceive others. His face had always been grisly, pockmarked from measles, and now red and creased from too much alcohol. The additional years had done little to improve his looks.

  The diminutive barkeep peered up at him, his expression bored. Wiry and a good five years younger than himself, the lad seemed too sober and clean to work at a place like this.

  “What can I get you?”

  “An ale.” Miles slid a coin over the counter. “And information.”

  The lad folded his arms and stared at Miles. Miles chuckled. The barkeep might not seem at home but he certainly already knew how things worked around here. Miles added two more coins.

  “An ale it is.” The lad poured the drink into a battered tankard that had likely been smashed around someone’s head at some point. He pushed it across the bar toward Miles and waited for him to take a sip.

  “What do you need?”

  “A man called Jenkins. Rich chap, well-dressed, with fair hair. Have you seen him?”

  “We get plenty of rich chaps here, believe it or not.”

  “I believe it.”

  The barkeep leaned back against the bar behind him. “What’s his poison?”

  “Probably the women, though I think he’d be free with his money. He’ll bring a crowd with him. Had a penchant for...group activities.”

  “Oh, that pervert. I know him.” He unfolded his arms and straightened. “I ain’t seen him today but he was here yesterday and will probably be here on Saturday. He favors Sweet Lilly and she’ll be visiting that night.”

  Miles nodded. Four days’ time. In the meantime, he would have to keep an eye out for Jenkins. If the man attended anymore local events, he’d use it as a good opportunity to do some more damage to Augusta’s reputation. He did not much want to throw about any threats at a garden party or dinner event but he’d do what he must.

  However, come Saturday and he’d have Jenkins precisely where he wanted him. For once, Miles’s rough past might prove useful. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to scare a man half to death. Jenkins would sorely regret ever harming Augusta’s reputation.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Gus Gus!”

  Augusta grimaced. She was in no mood for talk of weddings or Henry’s return.

  She stilled her grooming of Bella, a beautiful sable mare who had only been with them for a few months but already had the markings of a loyal and sweet horse. Oh Lord, what if her mother had heard of these rumors?

  No, she sounded far too cheery for that and there would be no use of ‘Gus Gus’ if that were the case. It was more likely to be Augusta Elizabeth Charlotte Snow if she were in trouble.

  She resumed her grooming of Bella, cooing to her while she ran the brush over her coat. “It’s so much nicer to be here with you, Bella,” she murmured. “Why did I ever think it would be wise to try to become adored?”

  Her plans to show Henry just what he was missing had been a complete failure. She had opened herself up to derision from people she did not even like...not to mention what had happened between her and Miles. She could not help but think if she had just remained a wallflower, none of this would have occurred. Miles would not have kissed her and she would not feel as though she were tangled in a web of her own making, powerless to escape, powerless to make a change.

  Powerless to avoid the agony of knowing she had kissed Lord Miles Ashwick and would never be able to forget it—even if he could.

  “Gus, Gus, there you are! I should have known.”

  Twisting to view her mother in the door of the stables, Augusta winced at the bright daylight that streamed in around her, highlighting her petite figure. Her mother stepped into the gloom of the stables and wrinkled her nose. “Miles is here to see you.” Mama pressed her hands together. “No doubt to discuss Henry’s return. You had better hurry. It would not do to keep him waiting.” She glanced over her with a sigh. “At least Henry will not see you like this.”

  Augusta grimaced. She was dirty and likely a little smelly too. “Perhaps I should change...”

  “No, no, no.” Her mother waved her hands at her. “He has been waiting for you long enough.”

  Sighing, Augusta nodded and lowered the brush. She swept her hands over her straw laden skirts and tucked a few loose strands of hair back into their pins as they walked back to the house. Her mother indicated into the parlor room and murmured, “I will be in the breakfast room,” before backing away.

  Why her mother thought she needed privacy with Miles, she did not know, but she could not decide whether to be grateful or not. At least then if Miles had something to say about these rumors, her mother would be unaware, but it would be much easier to remain proper with her mother present. Perhaps she might even forget that she kissed him and could not help but relive the moment over and over whenever she was alone. Alas, she could hardly ask her mother to remain for such reasons.

  Drawing her shoulders straight, she entered the drawing room. Miles struck a masculine feature against the pale blues and silvers of the room. Hands clasped behind his back, he stood straight, eyeing a painting of a battle at sea. He turned when one of the floorboards creaked beneath her feet and his lips curved.

  “It seems those horses warrant more attention than I do.”

  “I came as soon as my mother informed me you were here.” She pressed clammy hands down her skirts, wishing she’d changed. “Thank you for ensuring I’m thoroughly aware of my unkempt state.”

  His smile broadened. “If it helps, I rather like you in this state. Straw suits you better than flowers or feathers.” He closed the gap between them, so swiftly that her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. He reached for her and she froze. Was he going to kiss her? Embrace her? When her mother was in the next room and the doors were wide open?

  He tugged something from her hair and brandished it in front of her. She let herself sag a little. Hay. A mere strand of hay.

  He twisted it in his fingers, eyeing it. “A rare thing that a woman can look more beautiful coming straight from the stables,” he mused.

  Augusta felt the blush in her cheeks. “Why do you have to say such things?” she murmured.

  “I thought all women liked to be called beautiful.”

  “When you say things like that it makes it hard to...” Oh Lord, what was she admitting? She stepped away and went to the window, letting the slight breeze that stole through the open window cool her heated face. “What was it you wished to speak of?” She kept her gaze on the gardens but hardly saw a thing, too aware of his large presence growing near.

  He had to be a few feet from her—enough to be perfectly proper—but the hairs on the back of her neck tingled. Miles remained silent long enough for her to be forced to turn around.

  “Miles?”

  For the briefest of moments, there was something soft in his intense gaze. It vanished quickly behind that constant quizzical look, as though he was forever trying to hide some part of him. Sometimes she wondered if that was why he teased her so—because he feared her seeing whatever was underneath.

  “Jenkins was behind the rumors.”

  Augusta pressed a hand to her stomach. “For certain?”

  “I have yet to...speak with the man but I am certain enough.”

  “Oh Lord.” She sank onto the nearest chair and placed her head in her hands. “This is all my fault.”

  “Gus...”

  “It is.” She lifted her head. “You warned me but I was determined. I thou
ght I could prove something to Henry…to myself. What a fool I was.”

  “You wanted to prove something to Henry?”

  Pressing fingers to her temples, she nodded grimly. Now Miles would think her even more silly.

  “I was tired of waiting. I thought if I showed that I was not just a meek wallflower, then...” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Then maybe he would hear and return for me, and maybe I would not feel so boring and dull and like I was cast aside.”

  Miles chuckled.

  She pursed her lips. “This amuses you?”

  “Only that you could think yourself boring and dull.”

  “I am certain that is almost the definition of a wallflower and you cannot deny that I have become one.”

  “Gus, you are far from dull, believe me. And I have seen and met many unusual people in my life. In our circles, there are plenty of the same people. They talk the same, behave the same, repeat the same amusements over and over. You are absolutely nothing like them.”

  Augusta blinked at him. His words were so impassioned that she almost believed him. “If I am so fascinating, why did Henry leave me?”

  “That will be for him to explain but I can only say this, my brother was a fool not to marry you as soon as he had proposed. If it had been me—” He stilled and snapped his mouth shut.

  His gaze darkened and a rush of excitement swelled in her chest. She slowly rose and took two steps toward him. He remained frozen, creases between his brows forming as though he was in pain. She was terrified, every limb feeling weak, her heart thudding in her ears like a war drum, yet she could not help herself from saying it. “If it had been you...?”

  His expression grew more pained. No hint of that sardonic smile or the creases around his eyes remained. “Gus...” His voice was husky.

  She should say it. Just admit it all and throw caution to the wind. Tell him she did not wish to marry Henry and that she...she...well, she wanted more from him. But the words remained trapped. Apparently her courage would only take her so far.

  “Gus,” he repeated, reaching for her.

  She glanced only briefly at the open doorway but she could not say with honesty whether she could have cared if they were in full view of everyone. Rising onto tiptoes, she flung her arms around his neck and flattened her lips to his. A groan rumbled up from within him and he held her close, tightly, as though he was fearful she might pull away.

  As if she could.

  His mouth upon hers, his firm, warm lips—they kept her captive. This was even better than that night at his house. There was no shock or surprise...just pleasure. She angled her head and gave him access, allowing his tongue to sweep over hers. The world around her blurred and he bundled her closer, lifting her from the ground. He kissed her again and again, taking more and more from her but giving back so much. She could have sworn she could kiss this man for eternity. Pleasure swept through her at the feeling of his firm body against hers, his strong arms enveloping her.

  He lowered her back to the ground, easing his hold but moving his mouth across her face and down her neck. She arched into the ecstasy, tingles racing from every spot of skin that he kissed.

  “Gus,” he murmured, running his hands up and down her back.

  A delicate cough from the other room splintered the moment. Augusta froze in his arms and he straightened. They didn’t break apart, and for that, she was grateful as she was not certain she would remain standing. Drawing in a long breath, she turned her head toward the doorway then let her head sag against his chest. Her mother remained in the breakfast room and remained oblivious.

  Miles moved his hands to her shoulders and eased her back. “That was rather reckless.”

  Too aware of her ragged breaths and heated cheeks, she kept her head lowered as she nodded.

  “I did not come here to do that,” he said.

  She lifted her head, spotting that sardonic smile back in place. “I did not think you did.”

  “You’re a secret temptress, Gus.”

  “I am not,” she protested in a harsh whisper.

  “I know.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “It is my fault as usual. I forget how to behave as a gentleman around you it seems. I shall have to beg forgiveness once more.”

  “But...” What if she did not wish to give it? What if she knew she was as much to blame as he was? The first kiss, perhaps, could have been entirely on him, but this one...this one was not.

  Her courage was gone, though. Swept away by the madness of the moment. If there was ever a time to tell him how she felt, it was now, but she could hardly comprehend it herself yet. A few months ago, she had been pining for Henry. Now she could think of nothing else other than kissing Miles.

  “I shall have to work hard for that forgiveness, I see.”

  “No,” she blurted out. “No, that is not what.—”

  “I think it best I leave you now.” He retrieved his hat from a nearby table and put it on. “And while I might not be the best of gentlemen, I shall see to it that Jenkins ceases his gossip, I promise that much.”

  Twining her hands in front of her, she nodded. He dipped his head then left the room. She heard murmurs of him conversing with her mother but could not make out the words. At least her mother would have little idea what had just occurred.

  She almost envied her mother. If only she could be in ignorance too. Expunge what had happened from her mind and move on with her life. Miles appeared to have no difficulties in doing so. She sank back onto the chair and touched her still tingling lips. If only she was still that naive, excited girl who could not wait to marry Henry.

  But she had changed. Time had changed her. Miles had changed her.

  So what was she going to do about it?

  Chapter Twelve

  Miles released the tension from the bow and dropped the arrow to the ground when he recognized the man approaching. It had taken a moment as his usual chestnut hair had lightened, flashes of gold streaked through it, and his skin was darker than usual. Henry’s broad smile appeared whiter against the tan of his skin. Miles curled his fingers around the bow. He was happy his brother was home—really he was.

  But there was no running from it now.

  Henry was here to marry Augusta.

  His heart gave a sickly thud against his chest and he drew in a long breath through his nostrils in an attempt to govern it. He would not allow his foolish emotions to govern him any longer. He’d already proved himself entirely incapable of managing them yet again.

  Henry strode rapidly over to where Miles had been practicing and jerked his head toward the target. “Still room for improvement I see.”

  Miles lifted a brow. “Almost all of them at dead center.”

  “I could still best you,” his brother challenged.

  “We shall see.”

  Henry’s grin widened and he embraced Miles before stepping back. “It is good to see you, Brother. It appears the years have done you no favors.”

  “Whereas they have done you plenty. I imagine all the woman will enjoy your new exotic look.”

  “With the unpredictable summers we enjoy here in England, I suspect I shall be back to pale and uninteresting before long.”

  Miles shook his head. Henry had always been known as the more dashing one. Up until deserting them all in favor of travelling, he’d been an exemplary man. Charming, a gentleman to the core, traditionally attractive, and with the sort of personality that drew people to him, Miles could not deny envying his brother many a time. Though, none more so than now. Henry would finally claim Augusta as his.

  “You must be tired,” Miles said, propping the bow against the target and loosening the arm guard from his wrist before tucking it in his pocket.

  “I have enjoyed better journeys, but I have also endured worse.”

  “I can imagine.” Miles nodded. “You shall have to avail me of your adventures.”

  “I will indeed. Though, first, if we may, refreshments. I am parched and the journey from Sout
hampton in the mail coach was longer than anticipated. The bloody thing threw a wheel.”

  “Of course.” Miles motioned toward the house. “Let us get you inside.”

  Henry peered up at the house from their position on the flat grass that spanned one side of the lake. “It is good to be home.”

  Miles peered at him. “Is it?”

  “Absolutely. Why would it not be?”

  “Because, dear Brother, mother and I have been writing to you for quite some time in attempts to persuade you home.”

  Henry grimaced. “I know.”

  They began their walk back toward the house, climbing up the gentle slope that led into the formal gardens. Once between the lines of planted flowers and carefully trimmed, waist-height trees, Henry paused and glanced around. “It really is good to be home. I missed the green of England. There is none quite like it.”

  “I would not know,” Miles murmured. He had travelled somewhat in his younger years but only to the nearest reaches of Europe. His younger brother was no doubt far more experienced than him at this point. Travel did not appeal greatly to Miles but he could not help experience another pang of envy. Sometimes, he wished he didn’t love Henry so damned much. It would make life a lot easier.

  “I understand why you would not be happy with me, Miles,” Henry announced as they followed the path that led around the house to the rear doors.

  “I never said that.”

  Henry lifted a shoulder. “You did not need to. I would not be happy with me. I abandoned you to deal with all that you had inherited, I abandoned mother in her time of grief and...well...” Henry glanced down. “I abandoned my commitments.”