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

by Jess Heileman

  Sarah nodded, and though her face was nearly as ashen as her cousin’s, she assisted Ruth back to the settee.

  I glanced down at the ground to make certain I had managed to contain the blood thus far. Though it was not Axminster carpet beneath my feet, even a Wilton should not have its repeated pattern soiled by red droplets, especially one of this lighter blue shade. When my eyes lifted, their terrified expressions were still on me. I offered one last smile of appeasement. “I shall dress this and be back shortly.”

  Hurrying into the entry hall, I began up the stairs when heavy footsteps echoed behind me.

  “Bella.”

  I paused, concealing my hand behind my skirts. I had no desire for Augustus to catch sight of my folly. “Yes?”

  “I was wondering if I might have a word?”

  I glanced down at my finger, the pain increasing a touch more with each beat of my heart. “Can it wait? I was just headed to my room. I should not be long.”

  Augustus started up the stairs, a grin on his face. “What are you hiding?”

  I angled my body away from him as he neared. “Nothing.”

  “Shall I guess?”

  Well aware he would not soon relent, I brandished my hand.

  His eyes moved from the small amount of blood now accumulating in my cupped hand to my face. “What the deuce happened?”

  I started up the stairs again. “Just a slight clip with some sewing shears. I didn’t have anything to wrap about it, so it looks worse than it is.”

  He caught up with me and reached for my hand. “Let me see it.”

  “I’m quite capable of dressing something as minor as this.”

  He laughed and shook his head, bounding ahead of me before turning to barricade my way up. “It is not you I’m concerned for, but the preservation of our carpets along the corridor.” He winked and reached out his hand. “Now, let me see the damage.”

  I gave an audible huff to make certain he knew of my vexation, then held out my injured finger. He descended a step and took hold of my hand, cradling it in his. The tenderness of his touch and the warmth of his skin on mine sent my heart racing, my finger throbbing with each pulsation. “See, it is nothing.”

  “Though I believe there won’t be a need to call upon the surgeon, this is hardly nothing.” He tilted my hand from one side to the other to get a closer look. “You must be a very aggressive seamstress.”

  I lifted an unimpressed brow. “Do let me know when you are finished insulting me so I can take care of the problem at hand.”

  Augustus laughed, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. “Problem at hand,” he repeated, shaking his head and pressing the linen into my palm to absorb the blood. “How do you manage to be witty even in distress?”

  “Because I am not in distress.”

  He lifted the now red-stained handkerchief and began wiping at the remaining blood along my finger with the clean portion. “Then why do you breathe like you are?”

  It was only then that I noticed how quickly my chest was rising and falling, and the realization of my foolish reaction sent my cheeks ablaze. I closed my hand around the handkerchief and freed my hand from his. “Thank you. I believe I can manage from here.”

  A side of Augustus’s mouth lifted. “But you have grown flush.” He descended a stair, so that we now stood next to one another, and placed a hand on my back, gesturing me forward. His closeness did nothing to calm me. “I had best see you to your room to make certain you don’t faint along the way. I know how ladies cannot abide the sight of blood.”

  The sight of my blood had nothing to do with my current state, and I thought to say as much, but I was certain that was precisely what he wished me to do—thereby acknowledging that it was, in reality, him who had affected me so. Well, I would not. With new determination, I lifted my chin and began up the stairs again. “What was it you wished to speak to me about?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder in an attempt to appear unruffled.

  He started up after me. “I believe I may possibly owe you an apology.”

  I sent him a skeptical glance as he came to my side at the top. “You sound so certain of it.”

  “Well, the truth is, I’m not entirely sure how I offended you. That is why I need you to clarify, so that I might beg your forgiveness.”

  I scoffed. “I shall need more specifics than that, or you may find yourself apologizing for a myriad of things you had no intention of seeking my forgiveness for.” I shot him a playful smile, but he was not looking at me.

  “Last night. What did I do to upset you? You hardly spoke to me after our conversation.”

  I pursed my lips, pretending ignorance. “I can’t think of anything.”

  “Was it my comment about your affections being placed elsewhere?”

  My heart skipped a beat, and I rebuked it for its nonsensical reaction. It did not matter that he acknowledged his comment had been about me, nor that he cared where I should place my affections, for it would not change my course. Augustus could not offer me what Lord Thorton could—not a title, nor great wealth, nor status. And even if I could convince myself that those things did not matter, they certainly mattered to my parents. Mother would not tolerate my passing on Lord Thorton for the son of an obscure gentleman, let alone when she discovered that gentleman was Augustus. A chill ran down my spine.

  “I cannot think that was it, as I did not suspect you were speaking of me in particular.” I smiled through my lie, relieved to have arrived at my door. In haste, I grabbed the knob. “I thank you for your assistance and your haphazard apology. But as you can see, I am quite well and am capable of carrying on myself.”

  I opened the door and stepped through, but Augustus did not leave. Instead he paused at the threshold and leaned against the frame.

  “What are you doing?”

  He only smiled. “You were truly unaware I spoke of you?”

  I turned my back on him, thankful I had the excuse of retrieving my sewing basket. “Perhaps I questioned it for the briefest of moments.” I opened the top of the basket and rummaged through the contents for a spare piece of linen. There were too many ribbons and strings to sift through with one hand and, in my agitation, I overturned the contents onto the desk. “But then I also wondered if you spoke of Miss Whitmore, or perhaps another lady.”

  “I spoke of you, Bella, and you alone.”

  I froze, my mind completely going blank. The throbbing in my finger forced me to my senses, and I snatched up a partially completed sampler and awkwardly took my extra pair of shears to cut a strip off the end. Relinquishing the bloody handkerchief on top of the contents of my sewing box, I lifted the linen to begin wrapping.

  “You must wash it first.” Augustus gestured toward the water basin placed on a small table near the door where he stood.

  I drew in a steadying breath and moved toward him, dipping my hand in the clear water and scrubbing at the dried blood until the water was tinted pink. When I finally submerged the tip of my finger, I winced at the stinging sensation, and a pitiful whimper escaped.

  Augustus took a small step toward me, a look of concern in his features. “May I assist you?”

  I shook my head, well aware that his touch could be my undoing. I already felt weak. I had no intention of compromising my resolve further. After drying my hands, I wrapped the linen around my finger, pulling it taut with each rotation. I could feel Augustus watching me, and after a few failed attempts to secure the end with only one hand, I held out my finger to him in surrender. “Perhaps you could tie it off for me?”

  With an all-too-amused expression, he took hold of my hand a second time.

  I looked toward the window, refusing to take notice of anything besides the afternoon light filtering through the panes of glass.

  “There you go.” His hands lingered on mine.

  I swiftly lifted the bulky dressing to show off our success, hoping to keep the mood light. “Hardly noticeable, I think.”

  He smiled but didn’t r
espond as he studied me.

  “Well, shall we go down?” I asked a touch too cheerily, so that it sounded false even to my own ears. “I believe I left Ruth and Sarah in quite the state of distress. They shall be eager to know how I fared.”

  Augustus crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe again.

  I gave another small huff and tilted my head to the side. “What is it now?”

  “You seem eager to avoid my declaration.”

  I gave a small shrug, as though my entire body was not trembling on the inside. “In all honesty, I am not avoiding it, I simply believed it to be hardly worth mentioning, considering we are friends, and friends should clearly be concerned with the other’s welfare.”

  His gaze lowered momentarily before lifting again to mine. “As enjoyable as these games we play are, Bella, I am growing weary of concealing my true feelings.”

  The familiar look in his eyes made my heart start into a frenzy. It was a look I knew well, and I could not bear to see Augustus hurt in the same way I had hurt so many gentlemen before him. Nor could I bear the risk of seeing that same look fade over time. It would be detrimental to us both for him to declare himself. “Really, Augustus, we should go back down.”

  “Not until I tell you that—”

  “Please stop.” My voice caught, and I released a shaky exhale. “You must not say it.”

  He took a step closer, and the movement nearly toppled the poorly-constructed wall around my heart. “I cannot bear to know I did not take hold of the opportunity when it was given me—before it was too late.”

  I shook my head, frantically searching the ground at my side as though it held the inconceivable answer of how to proceed. “It could never work between us. My parents would not allow for it, and I … well, I have plans, Augustus. You cannot simply stroll back into my life and disrupt everything I have worked for.”

  With one final step, he closed the space between us, and my whole being went into turmoil—my heart and my head both battling for control. His fingertips brushed down my arms, and I shut my eyes in an attempt to close myself off from the pleasurable sensation, but instead it was only magnified. Then one of his hands moved to my neck. His thumb stroked my cheek, and I opened my eyes to find his face only a breath from mine. Instinctively I tilted my chin upward. I needed to pull away, and yet I longed to draw closer, to again feel his lips on mine. I leaned in.

  “Oh, heavens! Forgive me.” Mrs. Brundage’s quiet exclamation pierced through the silence around us, and I shoved myself out of Augustus’s embrace. The shocked expression of Mrs. Brundage gaped at us from the doorway—her arm lifted as though preventing someone at her side from seeing what she had.

  “What is it?” Ruth asked, peeking around her aunt’s outstretched arm. Her eyes fell on Augustus then moved to me and my horrifyingly red face. “What were the two of you doing in Bella’s bedroom alone? Was this another one of your assessments?”

  Mrs. Brundage’s confused expression lingered on Ruth then moved back to us.

  “No,” Augustus said, appearing utterly unaffected. “I was simply aiding Bella with her injured finger, and she wished to thank me.”

  I looked at Augustus in disbelief, giving a swift shake of my head. “That is not true. I would not kiss him for such a trivial thing as that.”

  Ruth’s mouth gaped open, and she tugged Sarah into view, apparently feeling it necessary for all parties present to witness the mortifying scene. “The two of you were kissing just now?” Ruth asked, delighted.

  “No.” I directed my imploring gaze to Augustus, but the smirk that dominated his lips made it apparent he would be of no help to me. “We had not actually kissed … yet. Nor would we have … most likely.” I cringed at my own blabbering explanation, realizing it was doing little to improve upon the situation.

  Mrs. Brundage held a hand over her mouth, and my stomach clenched, waiting to see if she would break down in tears or scold us for our scandalous act. But, instead, laughter sounded through her fingers. “It seems I must keep a better watch on the two of you. If I had known I was supposed to be playing chaperone, I would have done a more thorough job of it from the start.”

  Augustus smiled. “Oh, do not be hard on yourself, Mother. We did not mind your negligence in the least.” He looked toward me. “Did we, Bella?”

  All eyes settled on me, and a second wave of heat moved through my face. “I believe the answer is quite obvious at this moment.”

  Mrs. Brundage pursed her lips, making Ruth and Sarah giggle.

  “Well”—Augustus gave a loud clap of his hands and rubbed them together—“was your impeccable timing no more than cruel fate or was there a particular reason for it?”

  Mrs. Brundage glanced toward my hand. “The girls told me of Miss Godwin’s embroidery incident. We were simply coming to check that all was well.”

  I lifted my bandaged finger. The only evidence of any bleeding was a small spot of red that had seeped through the linen. “Good as new.”

  Ruth slipped through the doorway to take a place at my side. “I am so relieved. I could not believe how much blood there was. I’m not certain I shall ever be able to embroider again, knowing what the consequence could be.”

  I dipped my chin. “I assure you, in all my years of needlework, I have never done such a careless thing before.”

  Ruth nodded, hardly looking reassured.

  “Oh, that is the other thing,” Mrs. Brundage said, holding out a missive for Augustus. “Owen has written to you.”

  Augustus took hold of the letter and broke the seal. As he unfolded it, a smaller missive dropped to the floor, and he quickly retrieved it, tucking it into his waistcoat pocket. He scanned the contents of the letter, his brow furrowing as he continued.

  “What is it?” Mrs. Brundage asked, equally aware of the change in Augustus’s countenance.

  His eyes were full of disappointment when they met mine. “It seems I must leave without delay.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Leave?” Mrs. Brundage asked. “For what purpose?”

  I watched intently as Augustus released a heavy breath, his gaze returning to the letter in hand. “Owen has uncovered evidence that could potentially affect the Setons’ case.”

  “What evidence?” Ruth’s voice was subdued.

  Augustus tilted his head to one side, hesitation evident in his features. “If I discover there is something to tell you, I will.”

  Ruth bit at her lip. “But only if it is good news.”

  “Of course.”

  She gave a small nod, appearing relieved by Augustus’s agreement.

  “When do you leave?” I asked, attempting to conceal the disappointment in my voice.

  “I’m afraid I cannot delay. Owen expects the hearing will take place within the next fortnight, and all evidence must be compiled before it begins.”

  Now it was my turn to offer a timid nod in lieu of a response, trying to convince myself it was for the good of both of us that he was leaving. I needed to fortify my defenses in his absence.

  Augustus glanced around at our solemn expressions. “Come now, it should only take a matter of days.”

  I forced out a smile for his sake. “We ladies have much to occupy our time, don’t we?” Ruth and Sarah nodded in unison, and I looked back to Augustus. “Though I may need Mr. Treynor to assist me with a lesson or two in your absence.”

  Augustus’s lips lifted into a glorious smile, just as I’d hoped. “I must insist you hold off on those lessons requiring the aid of a gentleman until my return.”

  Ruth and Sarah laughed, but I gave a small lift of my chin. “Then you’d best be on your way so that you may return before I am forced to press on without you.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  I lifted a brow.

  “Very well.” Augustus stepped in front of me and took hold of my unbandaged hand. He paused. “Do wait for me, Bella.” I was certain he spoke of more than the lessons.

  My heart patte
red about recklessly, and though I tried to keep myself from agreeing, my attempt was halfhearted at best. “I will.”

  He lifted my hand and placed his lips to my knuckles. So tender was the gesture, I dropped my gaze for fear he, or one of our onlookers, would glimpse the undeniable pleasure that coursed through me because of it. When he released my hand, I clasped it in my other, waiting for my self-control to return. When I finally looked up, he had just kissed his mother’s cheek.

  He offered me one last adoring smile. “Take care, all of you.”

  “You also,” I said, and he disappeared through the open door.

  The room fell silent, and we listened to his muffled footsteps retreat down the carpeted corridor. A strange desire to go after him flooded over me, but I disregarded it. What good would it do either of us?

  “I still cannot believe you and Augustus nearly kissed,” Ruth chirped, acknowledging the very topic I most wished to avoid in his absence.

  Mrs. Brundage pressed her lips together. I wondered if she meant to say something, but then she took a step backward. “I will go see about Cook packing a little something for Augustus to take with him. Do excuse me.”

  Relief flooded over me. The moment she left, I pulled Sarah inside with me and Ruth and closed the door.

  “Ruth, you must not speak of it.” I released a breath. “It was a moment of weakness, that is all.”

  “So you do not love him?” Ruth asked, sincere disappointment in her features.

  I walked to the writing desk, righted the sewing basket, and began filling it with the spilled contents. “It would not matter if I did. A union between us is impossible.”

  “But why?” Ruth moved to my side to aid me in my cleanup.

  Uncertain how I could even explain the situation without revealing too much, I shrugged. “It’s complicated, Ruth.”

  “But if you love each other—”

  “No,” I said, a tad too forcefully out of frustration. “Forgive me. It’s just that love is not an option I can consider. I am expected to marry someone of equal rank, if not higher. Someone with connections and a fortune—a gentleman like Lord Thorton.” I paused, wishing I could explain that love was not enduring. That I’d witnessed its brittleness too many times. But Ruth would only assure me that Augustus would always love me. I knew better. Love always faded. Besides, Augustus had once chosen Ruth’s happiness over mine, and though I could not blame him for it, it would be naïve to think it could not happen again with someone else. No, it was safer to marry for convenience. “I am told a mutual fondness often grows in such arrangements. And that is enough for me.” It had to be.