Page 50 of Married to the Lord

Chapter Nineteen

“At least your trousseau is ready,” her mother murmured.

Augusta nodded vaguely, keeping her attention fixed on the book in her hands.

“Now that Henry has set a date, we have an awful lot to do.”

Augusta nodded again and raised the book higher in front of her face to hide her grimace. Henry had indeed set a date and appeared to be sticking to his promise of being more reliable. That did not, however, stop the sinking feeling in her stomach that she was about to embark on the biggest mistake of her life.

“What a beautiful bride you shall make,” her mother enthused from her position at the drawing table. Stacks of paper were laid out in front of her and Augusta did not need to steal a look to know that Mama was writing to just about the whole country to let them know a date had been set. She grimaced again and forced her attention onto the words in front of her. Unfortunately, her attention would not commit itself and the letters seemed to jumble in front of her eyes.

“Naturally—”

Standing abruptly, Augusta dropped the book on the side table with a thud. Her mother blinked at her. “Gus?”

“Forgive me, Mama, I appear to have a sudden headache. I think I shall retreat to my room for a while.”

“Oh, of course, you go rest.” She waved a hand. “These preparations can be so taxing on a young woman.”

She gave her mother a weak smile and hastened out of the room and upstairs, lifting her skirts so she could take them two at a time. She tugged open the door and shut it swiftly behind her, staring at it for a moment as though someone might follow her. Not that anyone would.

A rustle and the creak of a window made her spin on her heel. “You...” The word came out a startled, harsh whisper. She staggered a couple of steps in retreat until her back met the wood of the door.

Mr. Jenkins turned from the slightly open window, a sheepish smile on his face. “I thought you would be in the drawing room for a little longer.”

The confused haze cleared swiftly. Her heart slammed hard in her chest, sending her pulse fluttering through her limbs and making them feel like liquid. “You...you were watching me...”

His smile curved and the heat in her body turned to pure ice. He took several steps toward her and she fumbled for the doorknob but her hands shook. She should scream but everything seemed to remain trapped in her throat, tangled in a web of horror. What was he doing here? In her room? How long had he been watching her?

“You are very intriguing.” He moved closer and she ducked past him as a squeak of fear escaped her throat. She ended up by the fireplace, backed up against the decorative wood surround. As he neared, she pressed herself into it, the hard edge of the wood digging deep into her back. She felt no pain from it.

Out of the periphery of her vision, she spotted the fireplace tools. She stretched her fingers but they were too far away now that he had edged closer.

“I think you should leave,” she said in a dry whisper.

“I can get many women, you know.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“But you...you flourish all of a sudden then have the gall to turn me down.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “I cannot help but find you fascinating.”

“I am terribly dull, I assure you.”

He flicked a speck of dust from his sleeve. “You have two brothers who find you just as intriguing as I do. I think you are wrong, dear Miss Snow.”

She opened her mouth to refute that fact but it seemed pointless. For some reason, Mr. Jenkins had recognized from early on her feelings for Miles.

“If you leave now, I shall not tell anyone you were here.”

“Or I could stay and teach you what to expect from your husband.”

Her heart jammed up in her throat again, sending a fresh flood of panic through her. “Leave. Please,” she begged softly.

He continued to come close and she glanced at the iron poker, standing a few feet from her. If she could just make her useless body move... But he was upon her, pressing his body into hers. He ran a finger down her face then fingered a curl not far from her collarbone. Bile burned at the back of her throat.

When she glanced into his eyes, there was no madness like she expected but a sort of cool, calmness. Mr. Jenkins thought that she owed him this, she could see that now. Her foolish flirtations had reached a man so entitled, that he thought she was his due.

Good Lord, what a silly fool she had been.

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