Page 12 of Married to the Lord

Chapter Five

Augusta blinked, the hazy light of dusk casting an eerie gray hush over the estate land—an unwelcome change from the warm lamplight from inside Charlecote House to her tired eyes. Her father handed her up into the open carriage and she greedily snatched the woolen blanket there, tucking it around her body and allowing her head to loll back against the soft leather interior. Smothering a yawn with the back of her hand, she lifted her head up long enough to look at the house then to Lady Ashwick.

Her parents offered theirthank yousfor her so there was no need for anything more than a polite smile, but she should not have been hungrily hunting the windows for any sign of Miles.

She let her head drop back again and hitched the blankets up around her neck to keep out the morning chill. Was it her imagination or did her lips still feel hot? She resisted the urge to touch them for the hundredth time that night. She had done it so many times that her mother had asked her if there was something wrong. No, she had said, shaking her head vigorously and adopting a careful smile while lacing her fingers firmly together, ensuring that they remained prisoner and could not betray her again.

It was a lie, of course. There was most certainly something wrong. That sense of it fluttered there, like a trapped bird in her breast, thudding hard in her ears and against her rib cage. Wrong, wrong, wrong. She should never have responded to Miles’s kiss. Should not have even stayed out there unaccompanied with him. It would be slightly less than scandalous that she was alone with her fiancé’s brother but there would be no saving her from ruin if anyone had spotted them.

Oh Lord. She pressed both hands to her stomach but the tension would not be suppressed. They really could have been caught too. While they were surrounded by friends and family who cared for them, there had been enough people in attendance who would probably enjoy the scandal that followed from such a moment. They would pretend that they were shocked and terribly sorry for her parents that she had been caught acting so wantonly but they would be quick to ensure everyone—especially Henry—knew of the act.

Her mother slid into the carriage beside her, offering a warm body to lean against. Wrapping an arm about her, her Mama added another blanket and brushed a soft kiss against her head. Augusta’s heart panged and she guiltily snuggled into the offered embrace. Her parents would be utterly appalled if they knew what she had done. Why, oh why had she not turned away? Why had she kissed him back? Miles was a gentleman and would never have forced a kiss upon her. All it would have taken was one word, one small action. All these years of waiting and she had nearly ruined everything with her fiancé’s brother!

The carriage rocked and creaked on its suspension as her father climbed into the barouche. Through half-lowered lids, she watched him wave vigorously while the vehicle jolted forward and crunched its way down the road out of the estate. Augusta eyed the sky lazily, watching it give way to morning. She would retreat to bed for a few hours once she was home though she was not certain she would be able to sleep. Not while her lips still tingled and certain little spots on her body were hot with remembrance.

Trees came into view and the crunching beneath the wheels gave way to the smooth sound of metal gliding over dry mud. Birds chittered in the trees above, excited to start a new day. She wished she could feel the same. Sheshouldfeel excited—after all Miles had said nothing of the engagement being called off. She was not ruined and left on the wayside.

She must have dozed as they reached home far quicker than she had anticipated. Rubbing her eyes then stretching, she reluctantly gave up the blankets in exchange for her father’s hand. She yawned and yawned again as she clumsily climbed down from the vehicle. Her mother gave her a quick squeeze. “Go and rest a while but do not forget we have a few people coming over for an ‘at home’ today.”

Augusta peered at her mother. “How is it you look as though you have rested a good twelve hours, Mama?”

“Because I have much more practice at dinner parties than you do, my dear, and I know when to conserve my energy.” She smiled. “But that does not mean I will not take to my bed immediately, and no doubt your Papa shall be snoring to the high heavens in his study chair before long.”

Too tired to summon a response, Augusta nodded and took the few steps up to the house, grateful for the warmth that wrapped about her as she stepped into the long entranceway. Built in the Elizabethan era, the walls were lined with dark wood paneling and each door was fashioned out of the same dark-stained oak. It was no dramatic Georgian entranceway like that of Charlecote House but she appreciated the comfort the smaller room brought. When she stepped into the main room, light spilled through the one huge window, casting colored patterns on the stairway as it simmered through the stained glass that edged the top of the glass. She grumbled her discontent at the invasion of daytime. “Can you not stay away a little longer?” she muttered as she made her way upstairs and ducked through the low doorway into her room. At least then she would not have to face what she had done.

Only bothering to remove her gloves and fling aside a few pins from her hair, she tumbled into bed and wrapped a sheet around her body, cocooning herself as though that would somehow prevent her from thinking of Miles. But, of course, nothing could cease her rambling, slightly crazed thoughts of that kiss.

Sweet Mary, even thinking of that word...kiss...it was too much. It made heat flow to her cheeks and her limbs turn to liquid. She had never received anything more than a chaste peck from Henry as he bid her farewell before his travels. It had been a wonderful moment, she had thought, and had kept that memory close for some time. Now she felt silly for thinking of it as anything other than a little dull. Miles’s lips upon hers had banished all thoughts of Henry’s.

She tossed onto her front and buried her face into the welcome feathery softness of the pillow. It did little to comfort her. Every slide of cotton against her skin, every touch of fabric, and she was reliving how Miles held her face, recalling the taste of his lips, remembering how hard his body had felt against hers. How hard and yet...how wonderful. How protected and cherished she had felt. How out of control and wild it had been and yet whenever she felt she could lose her footing, she would find his arms there, holding her just so and ensuring nothing happened to her, preventing her from being carried away.

Though so much of her had wanted to be carried away.

This was so, so terribly wrong.

As she closed her eyes, she could not help revel in it and take herself through every moment all over again. She let herself be back on that balcony, feeling the thrill of their fingers entwined together, seeing the intensity in his eyes and not knowing quite why it was there but wanting to know what was behind it anyway. She let his fingers slide over her face again, allowed him to hold her so that she could not get away. Augusta watched him lower his mouth to hers and did nothing to escape it.

She knew, without doubt, that if he tried to kiss her again, she might very well allow it.

Sleeping fitfully, she arose with a dry mouth and gritty eyes. She looked at the clock on her mantelpiece, blinking several times to clear the fatigue from her eyes before she could make out the time. She only had an hour to prepare for visitors and Joanna would be there so she wanted to be punctual. A far too talkative maid aided her in dressing and doing her hair but Augusta welcomed the brutal tug of a brush through her hair, making her scalp tingle and rousing her to her senses a little more. She grimaced when she spotted the dark shadows under her eyes, made all the more stark by her dark hair. Still, at least she was not seeing anyone who would care if she looked a little worse for wear.

At least she was not seeing Miles.

Goodness gracious, why did his name have to be summoned into her mind at every interval? He had not even bid her farewell. Clearly he knew it had been a huge mistake too. She was not even certain why he had kissed her. He was far too interesting and experienced to want to kiss her, surely?

Precisely. So that was another excellent reason to put it out of her mind. Why he had kissed her, she did not know, but there was no doubting it was a mistake on both of their ends. Better to forget it and think on how exciting it would be for Henry to come home. With any luck, the renewed pressure from his brother would ensure his return by winter and they could set a date. How very, very exciting.

She forced a wide smile once the maid left her bedroom and gave a little curtsey to herself in the mirror. “Mrs. Henry Stanton,” she murmured experimentally. “Mrs. Henry Stanton.” She made a face at her reflection. It did not seem nearly so wonderful as it once had. “Mrs. M—”

No! That was not acceptable.

Spinning away from the mirror, she left her room and headed downstairs to the parlor room. Two of her mother’s friends had arrived early but there was no sign of Joanna yet. She joined the ladies and listened in silence as they discussed the gossip that was surrounding a particular young woman who was rumored to be having a dalliance with a stable hand. Augusta had little interest in such gossip so she contented herself with drinking as much tea as possible to quench her tired and dry mouth until Joanna arrived.

Though she should not be envious of her friend, it was hard not to. No signs of the late night marred Joanna and her perfect skin practically glowed as though she had slept beautifully for a whole night. Augusta rose to greet her and they seated themselves away from the growing crowd of older ladies.

“How is it you never look tired?” Augusta asked, picking at a slice of fruit cake and discarding the sultanas on the plate.

“I am exhausted,” Joanna groaned. “Utterly, bonelessly tired.” She grimaced. “In fact, I genuinely cannot tell you the last time I felt this tired. Once I returned home, I fell into such a deep sleep that I forgot what day it was.”

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