A Well-Trained Lady (Seasons of Change Book 4)

by Jess Heileman

  “Yes, miss.”

  “Are you from London?”

  “No, Somerset.” Leah did not offer more.

  “Somerset? Of course, you would be from near Bath. I spent my childhood there. Oh, how I miss it. Though I must say, you will probably love Dorset just as much if you allow yourself. It is beautiful beyond description. And there are some great footpaths near Fairhaven you must take, for there is no better way to see the surrounding area than exploring. Do you not agree?”

  Leah gave a slow nod and looked to me, her expression clearly entreating me to intervene. It was one thing to be made to ride inside a carriage with your mistress and her friends, but it was quite another to be treated as though you were one of them. Poor thing.

  “How tired you look, Leah,” I said, eager to make amends for snipping at her on the way out. I tilted my head to the side and examined her. “You must be exhausted from all your labors to have me readied so early. Do you care to rest a while?”

  It took only a moment for Leah to realize the liberation I’d granted her. “Thank you, miss. I believe I may just sleep all day.” Leaning against the side of the carriage, she closed her eyes.

  Augustus’s gaze flicked to me, but I pretended to not notice.

  “The houses in this part of Mayfair are quite large.” Ruth looked out the window again, her hands resting on the shallow sill, taking in the passing scene.

  “Is your Town house nearby?” I tried not to feel self-conscious with Augustus listening.

  Ruth shifted in her seat to more fully face me. “Oh, but we do not have a Town house. We’ve been staying with the Whitmores just a few streets over. Mrs. Whitmore has a daughter—Candace—who is about to turn one and twenty. Only a year older than me.” She brightened. “And only a few months younger than you. Do you recall me mentioning them at the ball?”

  “I recall you mentioning the name Whitmore.” I paused, attempting to keep the jealousy from altering my voice. “Though I did not realize they had a daughter about our age.”

  “Oh yes. And she is the loveliest person in all the world. Is she not, Augustus?” I refused to look at him, but Ruth’s eyes danced as they returned to me, evidence that Augustus had not refuted her claim. “You shall love her as readily as I do. I am certain of it.”

  “Then I shall look forward to our introduction.”

  “I am surprised you do not yet know one another, being that this was her second Season.”

  I clasped my hands in my lap, uncertain how to explain, particularly under Augustus’s watchful eye, that I would have known Miss Whitmore had we moved in the same social circles. We did not. True, we both attended Lord and Lady Brimhall’s ball, but that was likely an anomaly, considering the Whitmores had not been invited based off their own merits but as relations. Yet I could not say as much without giving airs to my higher status, and I had no desire to make Ruth, or even Augustus, feel lesser. “Likely the sheer number of young ladies during the Season prevented our meeting.”

  “Are there so very many?”

  “Oh, yes. Hundreds just among the ton.”

  Ruth quirked her brow. “I imagined far less, but I suppose I would not know as I’ve not had a Season.”

  I tilted my head. “Is that not why you were in Town?”

  “No. Well, obviously we were for a small part of it, but that was not our purpose for coming to London. Augustus had business to attend to, so he brought me along knowing how I longed to visit Candace. And we saw much of Owen in the evenings. You remember Augustus’s brother?”

  “Of course,” I said, though most of what I recalled about him came from stories Augustus had told me. “Does he reside in London now?”

  “Currently.” Augustus offered a tight-lipped grin in lieu of more information, so I returned my attention to Ruth.

  “So how long was your stay?”

  “In the end it was just over a fortnight.” She looked at Augustus. “And aren’t you glad we stayed those extra few days, cousin? For had we not, I never would have encountered Bella at the ball.”

  Unable to refuse my curiosity, I glanced at Augustus. His expression was steeled, but the uncertainty in his eyes was still distinguishable. “To be sure,” he said, his dull tone contradicting his affirmation.

  After a brief pause, I covered my hurt with a forced laugh. “Your cousin does seem most overjoyed by our reacquaintance, does he not?” I sent him a wry smile, knowing full well how to pull him from his melancholy, though I wasn’t certain I wished to. “I hardly believed Ruth when she made mention of it, but you have become somber.”

  Ruth’s expression filled with contrition. “I … well, I did mention it, Augi, but—”

  I gave a dismissive wave of my hand. “Oh, Ruth, do not fret. It was imperative that your cousin should grow up at some point, and I fear such a thing requires a less mischievous temperament.”

  Augustus appraised my features before his mouth curved upward on one side. “Mischievous? I believe your memory escapes you.”

  My heart lifted as it always had when we used to tease one another, and I looked to Ruth. “Did he not taunt me mercilessly with his boyish tactics during his visits to Blacksley?”

  Ruth tightened her lips together, her eyes now alight with glee, and she nodded.

  Augustus shifted in his seat to face me more fully, resting his arm on the back of the bench. “What boyish tactics are you referring to exactly?”

  I lifted a brow at him, ignoring the accelerated pounding of my heart and the warmth of his hand so near my bare neck. “You rubbed mud in my hair, put frogs down my frock, and hung my favorite doll from a tree.”

  “That was before our truce.”

  “And what of the time you took me fishing?”

  He gave a half-hearted shrug. “What of it?”

  My mouth opened in disbelief at his blatant oversight. “The way you bashed that fish with a rock is still seared into my memory.”

  He began to shake with laughter, and I resisted the strangely familiar urge to join him. “The blame there should not fall entirely on me. You had to have realized that fish must first die if they are to be eaten?”

  I pierced him with my most unamused stare, waiting for him to appear sufficiently contrite.

  After a moment he filled his cheeks with air and released it slowly through his mouth, resuming a more appropriate demeanor. “Forgive me. I never meant to distress you.”

  “Not even the time you nearly shot me with an arrow?”

  He removed his arm from the back of the bench and pointed a lighthearted finger at me. “That was an accident, and I apologized.”

  “Or the time you carried on as though William Morris, the pig man’s son, was fond of me—writing me those horrendous love letters?”

  His lips squeezed shut, and he placed his clenched hand atop them to conceal his growing amusement. “Not an accident, I admit, but they were not horrendous. I heard you telling Ruth how well-written you thought them.”

  My mouth parted. “You spied on us?”

  He paused, then dipped his chin in mock contrition. “I now see that admitting it does not help my plight.”

  I took in Ruth’s contented expression, unable to conceal my pleasure. “After everything I suffered at your cousin’s hands, I’m beginning to wonder at my decision to come along.” My intention was to tease, but the smile melted from Augustus’s lips. Time seemed to stop at seeing him so altered in countenance. Yet why should I be bothered that his conscience was pricked by my words? The guilt was not mine but his own. “Luckily for him,” I said, unable to prevent myself from righting the situation, “I have always been willing to overlook his troublesome ways.”

  The corners of his lips curved upward again, though the smile lacked its previous radiance.

  Unsure how to proceed in the ensuing silence, I focused on Ruth. “Tell me of Fairhaven. I long to know everything about it.”

  She beamed back at me, needing no further insistence to fill the quiet. “Fairhaven m
ust be one of the finest houses in all of England.” Ruth paused. “Well, to be completely honest, I don’t believe that would be a fair assessment, as I have not visited many houses outside of Dorset.” Her brows pulled low. “In truth, I haven’t visited many houses within Dorset either. Yet I have seen a great many from the outside, and Fairhaven, though not as large as some, is equally beautiful. Not to mention that the countryside gets more mesmerizing the closer you get to the coast. Do you not agree, Augi?”

  Augustus nodded in my periphery.

  Ruth leaned forward. “Do you think we could take Bella to the seaside?”

  “If she desires it.”

  Ruth reached out and touched my knee. “Would you like that?”

  “Very much. I have never been to the sea.”

  Ruth sighed. “There is nothing like it in this world. The waves crashing against the beach. Oh, and the smell. Cousin, tell Bella of the way the air smells. It is almost as though you can taste the salt in the air. And the way the water covers your feet … it feels as though you are being pulled out to sea, like the ocean is yearning to keep you if you’d only let it.”

  I attempted to hide my dismay at such a notion. “I am certain I shall not be brave enough to venture in.”

  Ruth blinked rapidly. “But to go all the way to the ocean—and for the first time—to not go in?”

  I sensed Augustus watching me again, and I tilted my head, allowing a kind smile to touch my lips. “Observing your enjoyment will be quite enough to satisfy me.” I glanced at Augustus. “And do you enjoy the ocean as much as your cousin, Mr. Brundage?” I asked, hoping to make him aware of his unpleasant habit of staring.

  He did not look away but offered a thoughtful grin. “I’m not certain anyone can enjoy the ocean as much as Ruth, but I certainly try.”

  I gave a nod and looked back to his cousin.

  Taking it as permission to continue, we listened as Ruth described the shells, the sea birds, the quality of sand and on and on with whatever came into her mind. By the time we reached our first stop, I felt desperate for some quiet.

  Augustus saw to acquiring the next team of horses while we took our midday meal inside the posting-house. Ruth was thrilled with the food and spoke of her love of all types of pies, from minced meat to fresh blackberry. At the second stop she recounted the first time she had tasted ice cream and by the next we had discussed her favorite teas to alarming detail.

  By the time we reached the coaching inn that night, I felt strangely exhausted. I hardly received as much interaction in a day with my parents as I did in five minutes with Ruth. Now, after ten hours of her endless chatter, I realized that the constant pace had worn me down more than I cared to admit.

  Eager to sleep, I went directly to my room. But the lumpy bed and the rancid smell of the place made sleep hard to come by. I tossed and turned with dreams of Papa and Mother quarrelling with the Setons. Then came my repeated nightmare, one I thought I had finally quelled.

  In the dream, I stood at a window staring out at countless people passing by, none of whom I recognized. Each movement, each sound, disquieted me, but I waited. And waited.

  Augustus never came.

  Chapter Four

  I squinted into the morning light, the throbbing in my head too insufferable to take in much else besides Augustus awaiting us near the carriage. “I trust you ladies slept well?”

  I wasn’t certain any person could sleep well in such a place, let alone with the torrent of nightmares I’d endured, but I forced a smile. “Perfectly. And might I inquire about the length of today’s journey?”

  Augustus held out a hand to assist Leah into the cab then offered the support to me. “Not half a day’s travel from here. If we encounter no complications, we shall arrive with ample time to rest before dressing for dinner.”

  My head throbbed, and the thought of another moment bouncing about in a carriage was unbearable. “Superb.” I accepted his offered hand and ascended the steps, my aching body protesting each movement. I settled myself across from Leah into the same seat as yesterday. Ruth soon followed, resuming her rear-facing position before Augustus again moved onto the bench next to me.

  When the carriage lurched forward, I looked to Ruth. “I still desire to know more of Fairhaven before our arrival. You had begun yesterday, but we changed topics before you were able to relay much of it.”

  Ruth clasped her hands at her chest. “I could talk of such things for hours.”

  “By all means, please do,” I said, relieved I would not need to offer much in the way of conversation once Ruth began.

  Augustus’s gaze was once again on me, but I did not meet it as Ruth began her explanation of Fairhaven’s scarcely noteworthy history. With a few nods and well-placed smiles, Ruth continued on with little need of encouragement.

  By the first stop to change horses, she had finished detailing the rose garden—apparently Fairhaven’s most mentionable feature—and moved on to describe the orchard. As Ruth launched into the different varieties of fruit grown, my eyelids grew insufferably heavy.

  I stifled a yawn and glanced at Leah enviously, her head resting against the window, and her eyes closed. How fortunate she had no one to make a good impression on. Refocusing on Ruth, I forced myself to remain attentive. The rhythmic movement of the carriage lulled me deeper into exhaustion, but I would not succumb. It would be completely improper for me to fall asleep while Ruth spoke, especially sitting next to Augustus.

  “Miss Godwin.”

  A light tapping on my arm followed the voice.

  “Miss Godwin,” the deep voice was familiar and exceptionally close.

  Despite the heaviness of my eyelids, I forced them open. The vibrant colors of a summer afternoon were framed by a tilted window contrasting the interior of the swaying, more dimly lit—coach? I lifted my head and a strong hand helped me upright.

  “Don’t let her miss it, Augi!”

  Augi? My faculties returned in near unison with the mortification that consumed me. I glanced sideways with dread as Augustus returned my look of embarrassment with one of utter amusement.

  “I …” I didn’t know what to say as I ensured my hair had not dislodged from the pins. My training had entailed memorizing appropriate excuses for any foreseeable misstep; unfortunately, falling asleep on a gentleman had not been among the list. “I must have fallen asleep.” My deficient excuse sent the rising warmth to my cheeks.

  Augustus’s smile grew. “I did not mind in the least.”

  Ruth watched the exchange with nearly as much enjoyment on her face as her cousin.

  “I’m sorry if I drifted off while you spoke, Ruth. I was very much enjoying your explanation of Fairhaven and”—I searched my mind—“the orchard.”

  She smiled. “It was not the first time someone has fallen asleep while I prattled on and it certainly shan’t be the last.”

  I gave a timid nod, hoping my acknowledgment would not be taken offensively.

  Ruth’s unaffected expression moved to her cousin. “Tell Bella where we are.”

  “Branbury Court is about to come into view.” Augustus’s intent stare only deepened the awful shade of red I could feel settling into my cheeks and neck. “I hated to wake you, but we figured you’d be disappointed if you missed it.”

  I swallowed. “Who told you of Branbury?”

  Augustus did not look away. “Your father wrote of it in the missive he sent—both the upcoming house party as well as the anticipated engagement between yourself and Lord Thorton.”

  My fickle heart lurched, quickly followed by a wave of guilt surging through me. But why should I feel guilty about such a thing being withheld? It wasn’t as though I’d hidden the truth, we simply hadn’t ventured on the taboo topic yet. And there certainly had never been an opportune time to mention my forthcoming offer. Not with Augustus here. Eager to be free of their expectant gazes, I looked out the window nearest me. “I had not realized we passed by Lord Thorton’s estate on our journey, tho
ugh I admit I am eager to catch a glimpse of the place.”

  “It will be on my side.” He pointed out his window ahead of us. “At the edge of this clearing of hedges—just there.”

  I moved slightly toward him, but could only see the darkened wall of endless foliage from where I sat. Augustus pressed himself against the bench, allowing me more room for viewing. I leaned a little farther, ensuring I did not touch him, only to find my attempts were in vain.

  “I shall wait.” Gesturing for him to return to his place, I corrected my posture.

  “But you shall miss it.” Ruth’s voice was frantic. “You can only see it for a few moments before the hedges will again block it from view.”

  I glanced back at Leah who was awake but seemed to have little interest in the happenings inside the carriage. Reassured by her unwavering view out the opposite window, I inhaled and leaned even farther over, craning my neck. It was hopeless. I still could see nothing.

  A warm hand settled on my waist, and the touch of Augustus’s other arm wrapping around my back forced the air from my lungs. Slowly he pulled me toward him until my face nearly touched his window. His strong grasp held my weight effortlessly. “Is that better?” I felt his voice vibrating in his chest which did little more to ease my racing heart than his warm breath on my neck.

  “Yes,” I whispered just as a large estate came into view. My ears rang and my neck tingled, but I attempted to focus on what I saw and not the sense of yearning that Augustus’s touch evoked. Branbury was tucked significantly back from the road, a long private drive leading toward the house. The gray stones reflected the sun and, though I could not see it exceptionally well due to the distance, I could tell it was enormous in size and sufficiently grand. “Branbury Court,” I said to myself. “How ideal.”

  I watched my future home until it was once again hidden from view. Before I considered how my proximity to Augustus was no longer necessary, he slipped his hand from my waist.

  The heavy folds of my traveling dress repositioned under my forceful hands. “Thank you, Mr. Brundage.”