Page 55 of Married to the Lord

Chapter Twenty-One

Skirts in hand, Augusta stumbled along the groove worn into the grass by the passage of many hundreds of feet. Overhead, the sun shone intermittently through clouds as they moved swiftly across the sky. A breeze rippled the lengths of grass that spread out in front of her but she welcomed the slight chill it brought to her heated cheeks. If she thought too hard on this, she would turn around and return home and wait.

But no more.

No more waiting for life to happen to her. No more passively letting others make her decisions.

It had been two days since Miles had confessed his love for her and after a day's bed rest, she was itching to see him again. She was not certain why he had not visited since but she was simply done waiting.

The estate office was set on a winding farm track, a lone farm building with one cart parked outside. Her heart picked up its pace and she moved quicker. He had to be there. And with any luck, he might be alone.

Augusta approached the building slowly. Even if Miles's estate manager was there, she doubted he would have much to say about her being here alone—the man was hardly the sort for gossip—but she'd still rather avoid any scandal until she had spoken with Henry. Naturally, there would be talk that could not be avoided, and while the idea of being gossiped about once more made her toes curl into her boots, she knew it would be worth it. For the first time in her life, she was ready to take control of the direction in which she was headed.

She only hoped Miles still felt the same.

Stopping outside the red brick building, she peered in through the window. She ducked back swiftly when she saw Mr. Thomas, the estate manager, deep in conversation with Miles. At least she knew he was here, though. She had anticipated having to come up with an excuse to go to the house with her mother or perhaps asking Joanna to accompany her. How easy it would have been to talk to Miles alone there, she did not know, but she would do whatever it takes.

Augusta slunk around the side of the building and waited, her back pressed against the rough brick. She squinted up at the sun as it touched her skin through a break in the clouds. With any luck, she would not have to wait long before catching Miles alone. He would have to leave eventually after all and she would probably dash after him and...

A door slammed shut and Augusta dashed around the corner, paused, and quickly retreated, ducking back behind the wall as Mr. Thomas left the building. She pressed a hand to her thudding chest and stole a glimpse around the building. If he had seen her, he showed no sign of it, continuing at a quick pace away from the office. She waited until he was some distance away before pressing open the front door and slipping inside the gloomy confines of the building.

Broken into several rooms, she could hear papers being shuffled to the right, where she had seen Miles. Swallowing the tight knot of half-excitement, half-nerves tightening her throat, she straightened her shoulders and stepped through the doorway into the main office. Miles was standing over a table, his brow creased in concentration while he riffled through paperwork. She took a moment to admire his bare hands, his fingers leafing through the sheets of paper confidently. She opened her mouth then shut it. It would be so easy to turn around, to wait and hope he would come and visit her. Surely he would? Her toes twitched with the desire to turn around and flee.

No more.

“Miles,” she forced herself to say, his name rasping from her throat.

He turned swiftly, muttering a surprised curse under his breath. “Gus?”

She offered a shaky smile.

He glanced out of the window and moved past her to close the door and lock it. “What are you doing here?” He glanced her over. “You should still be resting. You should—”

She held up a hand. “I am perfectly fine.”

Miles pushed a hand through his hair. “I was going to come and visit you but I thought—”

She could bear it no longer—looking at him and not being able to touch. The way he looked at her with such dark intensity, the heat that seemed to sizzle from his broad shoulders. It was too much. Taking two steps forward, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly, passionately.

A surprised sound rumbled up from him but it was only moments before his arms were wrapping around her waist, drawing her hard into him. He returned the kiss with what felt like as much built-up frustration as she had suffered. She savored the touch of his firm chest, molding against hers with a sigh. His fingers dug into her waist, just so, providing her all the support her now weak legs needed. She funneled her fingers through his hair, drinking in the freedom to touch him, to feel him, to take everything he had to offer.

When he broke away, every inch of her body felt heated and she gulped down a few breaths.

He kept her close, pressing his forehead briefly to hers before landing a chaste peck on her nose. “You should not be here,” he murmured.

“I did not want to wait.” She gave a light laugh. “I am very done with waiting.”

“I know, forgive me.” He eased back enough to view her properly. “I wanted to give you time to rest and...well, I was trying to figure out what to tell Henry.”

“I think I should tell him. That is if...”

“I want you, Gus. More than anything.” He lifted a shoulder. “Whatever happens, so long as I have you, I am not concerned.”

She smiled, relieved. “I will speak with Henry as soon as I can.”

“We shall do it together.” He grimaced. “I hope he is not too upset.”

Augusta gave a wry smile. “Somehow I think he will not be upset at all.”

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