Page 16 of The Vagabond Viscount
The duchess was not going to let the matter rest, which meant that Augusta had to find a way to confide in her mother without telling the truth or, worse—lying. Lady Anne was an intelligent woman, and she could spot a mistruth some way off.
Augusta took in a deep breath. Perhaps her mother was right. A problem shared could be a problem halved. Or at least it might be good to get some of her troubles off her chest.
“It’s a matter of the heart. There was a particular gentleman who held my attention for quite some time. I have recently decided to end our connection. The problem being that whenever I thought he was about to do something regarding a possible future together, he took a step back.”
It made Flynn sound so heartless and cruel.
He is not a bad man. Maybe I was just pinning my hopes to him when there was never any hope in the first place.
“I see. And this gentleman is not a rake nor one with a reputation for dallying with young women’s affections?”
Augusta shook her head. “No, he is not.” That wasn’t the Flynn Cadnam, who Augusta knew. He had always been polite and considerate around women. If he was a rake of the highest order, then he was also a masterful magician who kept it well hidden.
“This man is, as far as I know, both honorable and a respecter of the female sex. If there is an issue in his life, it lies with his family. Or, in this case, their opinion as to my lack of suitability,” replied Augusta.
The duchess’s lips pursed, and a scowl appeared on her brow. “What do you mean your lack of suitability? You are the daughter of a duke. I couldn’t think of a more suitable young lady in the entire city of London. Or, if I am being completely honest, the whole blessed country. Is that what the young man in question has told you?”
There was a definite chill in her mother’s voice. The duchess was clearly ready to go into battle with this unknown family who had dared to cast aspersions on her eldest daughter. Any moment now she would rise from her chair and be demanding that Augusta gave her a name.
But she couldn’t do that, even if it meant defying her mother. Flynn had enough to contend with in his life without having the Duchess of Mowbray setting her vengeful sights on him.
“I don’t think it is his entire family, just his sire who seems to have an issue with me. Truth be told, I have only ever met this young man’s father once or twice, but he has apparently made his opinion of me clear. I am not good enough.”
Her mother sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “You may not wish to give me names, but I can guess at several families who might hold this foolish view. Rest assured, Augusta, it has absolutely nothing to do with you, but everything to do with how your father has structured your dowry.”
The mention of her dowry suddenly made horrible sense to Augusta. Her bridal settlement was carefully worded. If any family sought to gain access to it through marriage, they would be in for a large dose of disappointment. And if Flynn’s father was as hungry for wealth as Augusta suspected, then the reasons for him deeming her unsuitable could well be down to her marriage settlement. To his inability to touch it.
Oh God, is that why he won’t offer for me? Because of money.
If that was the case, then the notion of throwing other men in Flynn’s face wouldn’t do anything—it would only serve to cause him undeserved pain.
She met her mother’s gaze, and the duchess slowly nodded. “Your dowry is watertight. It is designed to protect you and your children in the event of something happening to your husband. No one can kick or kiss it out of you. Which means, if you are foolish enough to give your heart to a man who is unable to access his own money, then you, my dear, are signing up for a life of poverty. Your annual pin money allowance is generous but not enough for a couple or a young family to live on.”
Lady Anne rose slowly from her chair and straightened her skirts. “And, of course, your father would never agree to such a union. Neither would I. You must have heard of the phrase,marry in haste, and repent at leisure. It exists to warn lovestruck people not to throw their lives away in the hope that the person or circumstances into which they marry will change. People don’t. And aside from sudden tragic events, nor does life.”
The duchess made it most of the way to the door before she stopped. She returned to the table, and it was then that Augusta caught the worried expression on her mother’s face.
“We are still not naming names but let me say this, and I want you to take careful note. If you changed your mind and did decide to marry this mystery man, things could be difficult for the two of you for a very long time. And I mean years. If, for instance, he happens to be the heir to a title and he has a terrible, awful father, nothing will change until either his sire dies, or the young man in question grows a spine.”
Augusta nodded. “So, what you are saying is that it might be best for all concerned for me to look elsewhere for a future life partner?”
Her mother softly sighed. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. But there is nothing romantic about being trapped in a marriage which you quickly come to regret. Being near penniless while trying to survive in London society would be one of the worst fates, I could ever imagine for any of my children. The likes of you and I have not been bred for that kind of existence. Has it occurred to you, Augusta, my dear, that this man might be holding back in order to protect you? If that is the case, then he truly does love you. And his love is strong enough that in accepting his inability to ensure your financial security, he is prepared to let you go and find it elsewhere.”
The duchess’s words of warning were still ringing loudly in Augusta’s ears long after her mother had left the room.
ChapterNine
Flynn watched Augusta from his vantage place a few yards across the other side of the ballroom. Dressed in a pale lemon creation which draped perfectly from her bustline all the way to the top of her matching silk slippers, she looked as she always did to him—positively radiant. On any other night, he would have found his way to her side, bowing low as he told her just how lovely she was in his eyes. Then they would steal away and find a secret place to share kisses and tender embraces.
But not tonight.
This was the closest he dared get. Her note thanking him for the evening at the theatre had been both polite and brief. The sort of thing one sent to a casual social contact, not a longtime friend. And most certainly not a man who had known her as intimately as he had. The true intent of her short missive had been received and understood. She was angry with him, and as punishment, he had been placed firmly into the brother’s best friend box, and there he would stay.
The thought that she had indeed put an end to their love affair burned like acid inside him, eating away at his soul. He wanted Augusta. Craved her touch. She was the perfect woman for his wife. For his viscountess and future countess. He had spent years thinking of her and imagining what she would look like when heavy with his child. A baby they would have created in a moment of passion and love.
And now she barely speaks to me. This is beyond awful.
He glanced at the left sleeve of his suit jacket, but instead of congratulating himself on the excellent handiwork of repairing the hole which one of his father’s greyhounds had put in the cuff, he inwardly groaned.
