Page 18 of The Vagabond Viscount
You knew damn well I was watching.
She was lying. And she most certainly would have known he would follow her when the waltz was over, and her dance partner had taken his leave.
Look at me now, G. Tell me the truth of your heart.
“Is this your way of punishing me? You ask me not to be cruel, and yet you throw another man in my face at the first opportunity you get.”
She finally met his gaze. Her light brown eyes were cold and hard. Their usual warmth was sadly lacking. Her protective armor was firmly in place, set up to shield herself from him.
Augusta held the untouched glass of champagne out to Flynn, thrusting it toward him. “Take it or wear the contents. Your choice, Lord Cadnam. I don’t care either way.”
He reluctantly took the drink. “We have to talk, Augusta. I won’t have you throwing yourself at the first eligible bachelor just in order to vex me. We are not done.”
She let out a tortured gasp and quickly turned her head away. Flynn’s heart sank at her obvious distress. “Augusta, my love,” he murmured.
“Don’t,” she choked out.
What he would give to be able to take her in his arms and hold her right now. To let her know that he hadn’t given up on them. To tell her he loved her, and always would.
Flynn was about to throw all caution aside when out of the corner of his eye, he spied Gideon making his way toward them. He offered Augusta the champagne once more. “Your brother is about to descend upon us, and I, for one, don’t want to have to explain to him as to why I am holding your drink, and you are on the verge of tears.”
To his relief, she took back the glass and made a hurried effort to compose herself.
“Good evening. I was wondering when I would catch up with the two of you,” said Gideon.
The two of us. If only you knew the truth, Gideon.
Augusta offered up a tight smile to her brother, and if the Marquis of Holwell noticed the tears which glistened in his sister’s eyes, he thankfully made an effort not to mention them.
“I was busy dancing the waltz while Flynn here was kindly minding my drink. How has your evening gone so far, Gideon?” replied Augusta.
His friend let out a huff. “Boring. I am so utterly over these parties. I have no idea how I am going to survive the coming social season. There had better be some fresh faces arriving in London, because I am tired of seeing the same people at the same parties, night after night.”
If that were the extent of his own problems, Flynn would be more than happy. But Gideon did have a point. London society had a certain sameness to it, especially at this time of the year. People were slowly making their way back to town, but the wet and cold winter weather kept most social activities confined to indoors. There was a finite amount of dancing and making of small talk that a person could undertake before it all blended into one.
The only point of interest in all of this was Augusta. And now he was in grave danger of having to watch while she not only danced with someone else but went off and married them.
Ten years he had spent living with regret. First with the loss of his beloved mother, and then with the misery of life with his father. There wasn’t a day that Flynn didn’t wish he was back living at Bramshaw Park, far away from London and his hated sire. He couldn’t ever find it in his heart to regret loving Augusta.
I am going to go and speak to my father, damn it. He has to see reason.
He wasn’t going to let Augusta out of his life. She was his, and it was high time he took control. Claimed what they both wanted. Gave her the future she deserved. A future with him.
“I’m sorry, but I am going to have to take my leave of you. I need to go home and speak to my father,” he announced.
A frown appeared on Gideon’s face. His friend knew the truth of Flynn’s home life. Of the terrible beatings he had endured at the hands of the earl. That only the gravest of occurrences would see Flynn making the effort to voluntarily speak to his sire.
“Would you like me to come with you?” offered Gideon, his voice edged with concern.
His friend’s timely presence had saved Flynn from the violent hands of his father more times than he could remember, but this was one occasion where he couldn’t help.
Flynn did his best to ignore the look of worried interest on Augusta’s face, silently praying she wouldn’t ask as to why her brother was offering to accompany him home. He was a grown man; he shouldn’t need anyone to protect him.
One day you might know the truth. I just don’t know how I could face you afterward.
“Thank you, no. Though I do appreciate the offer. There is an important matter I need to discuss with my father tonight.” He turned and bowed to Augusta. “My apologies, Lady Augusta, I was hoping to share a dance with you later, but this pressing issue cannot wait.”
He left the Kembal siblings and made for the door, stopping on his way out to grab a generous glass of whisky, which he downed in quick time. A stiff drink always came in handy for a shot of warmth before facing the bitter winds of a January night. A half-mile walk lay ahead of him from the party to his family home.
