Page 10 of Married to the Lord

Chapter Four

Miles’s gaze slid traitorously toward his guest for at least the hundredth time that night. He regretted he was not hosting a bigger dinner. At least if there were more guests, his attention would not be snared by her so frequently. There was something wildly different about her. He could simply put it down to the jewel-toned gown she wore, seeming to fit just so. But it was more than that.

Seated between Mr. Simpson and Sir Cadbury, both of whom were charming men with good countenances, Augusta offered sweet smiles and the occasional bashful look. While he suspected his mother had planned it deliberately knowing how shy Augusta could be, whether it was the company of the two men, or something else, she did not seem nearly so shy as he expected.

He curled his fingers around his fork, letting the metal dig into his palms. Her laughter drifted across the table. He could not help but look again, taking in the slight blush on her cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled. She did not look like a woman waiting.

Damn it. Henry was going to ruin this girl. He wished his brother would just return and get this blasted marriage over and done with.

He shifted his attention down the table, toward Augusta’s mother and father. They often dined with his mother but with how busy he was, he rarely attended dinner parties at the Hampshire estate. If her parents were as frustrated as Augusta was, they showed no sign of it. However, the families had been friends for many years and he suspected the Snows did not want to cause a rift between them.

Another peal of laughter snared his attention. He forced his gaze to the tablecloth, tracing the ornate pattern that was sewn into it with his gaze. He needed to get Augusta alone tonight. He had hoped it would be far easier to do so at a dinner party then at a ball, and her parents would be distracted so there would be no chance of them listening in.

Of course, he should have just spoken to her at the stables but she had seemed reluctant to stay and converse with him. He did not blame her. It had been at least two years since they had seen each other and, apparently, those years had changed her more than he had realized. This vibrant woman seemed nothing like the quiet girl he had known before his father’s death.

“So, Lady Ashwick, what news of Henry?” Lord Blyth asked. “I hear he is in the Baltics at present.”

“Oh yes.” His mother nodded eagerly.

Miles winced. He could not help but glance toward Augusta, whose gaze drifted to the cutlery upon the table. Of all the topics of conversation, why did Lord Blyth have to talk of his brother? Particularly with their current company. He suspected the elderly Lord was angling for some gossip and, unfortunately, his mother would fall straight for his trick. There was nothing she liked more than to speak of her beloved younger son.

“He has involved himself quite heavily in some of the charitable work there,” she continued. “He tells me he is finding it quite rewarding.”

Miles bit back a small snort. Henry was no cad but charitable work had never truly been of interest to him. He half-suspected a woman was the reason for his longer than necessary absence.

“We shall look forward to his return then he can regale us of his adventures.” Lord Blyth glanced around the table. “You have quite the son there, Lady Ashwick. We are all on edge, waiting for him to grace us with his most excellent presence.”

Miles ground his teeth together until his jaw hurt. He was well-used to Henry receiving praise—and if he was honest, sometimes Henry deserved it. After all, he had not involved himself in the deep belly of a dark underworld like Miles had in his early years. However, Augusta did not need to be hearing any praise of Henry right now.

When he looked up, he found Augusta’s gaze upon him. She did not appear any more thrilled by the topic of conversation. Thankfully the conversation turned to more mundane topics as the desserts were served—sugar cookies accompanied by orange cream, baked apple pudding for those who preferred warmer desserts. Rice pudding, ices, and syllabub also made an appearance upon the table. Miles tasted little of it.

After the cigars and brandy, they rejoined the women in the parlor room. Miles waited until a few more sherries and such had been consumed before approaching Augusta.

“Might I have a quiet word?” He leaned down, catching the sweet scent of a floral perfume. He straightened swiftly when his traitorous gaze fell upon her cleavage. Clearing his throat, he gestured toward the open doors of the terrace that had been left open to clear air that was thick with cigar smoke and the lingering heat from the day.

Biting down on her bottom lip, Augusta nodded and rose from her seat. Her parents were too involved in conversation to notice their departure and, if his mother saw, she would say nothing.

The moon was full and bright, reflecting off the lake and rendering the tips of the trees around the estate a milky white, as though they were covered in snow. He stole a look at Augusta. He could not help but wonder if she still recalled the day that she had nearly drowned at his country estate. Did her stomach still churn with dread whenever she saw a large expanse of water? They had never spoken of the moment but he knew his still did.

She took an audible breath and turned to face the gardens once they reached the balustrade that dissected the terraced area from the rest of the gardens. Her hand shook and she clasped them together in front of her. Miles found himself fighting the desire to take her hands and squeeze them tight, to remind her that she had no need to be nervous around him, that he knew her better than anyone.

But did he? He had neglected to spend any time with his brother’s fiancée since their engagement. Naturally, it was because he was far too busy.

Though the gnawing in his gut told him he was lying to himself. He loathed that Henry and Augusta were engaged. Deep down, he suspected he would also be frustrated even if they were happily married. As much as he would like to blame his brother’s behavior for his discontent, he could not ignore the quick flutter of his heart and heat flowing through his veins now that they were alone.

He could not deny that he stayed away from her for a reason either.

Damn it.

“Whatever it is you have to say, just say it.” Her voice trembled. “I do not mind.”

He drew in a long breath of cool air, savoring the sweet honeysuckled tinge to it. If he said what was truly on his mind, he would likely frighten her away. Lusting after one’s brother’s fiancée was more scandalous than her sitting around waiting for Henry to finally set a date.

Miles swallowed hard. He turned his attention to the moon, the bright glow less painful to look at than Augusta. “I have heard talk,” he began.

“Yes,” she said softly, as though not surprised.

He pressed his lips together then found the courage to face her. Her eyes were wide in the moonlight, her skin pale. She was a tall woman but slender—on the verge of skinny. It made him want to wrap his arms around her and protect her from anything that might do damage. But the fact was, he could not protect her from the damage that might occur should she attract the wrong attention thanks to her dissatisfaction with his brother. All he wanted for her was to be safe and happy, regardless of what he felt.

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