by Ella Quinn
“Excellent.” He smiled to himself. By this time next year, with any luck at all, his brother would have his heir, and he wouldn’t have to marry.
“How long do we remain in England?” Boman had lowered his voice.
“Six weeks at the most. I think a month should suffice.” That would give Phinn enough time to inspect all the ladies and reject them. There could not possibly be a young lady who was interested in anything but fashion and her own come out. Or who was knowledgeable beyond anything she had been told to learn.
Chapter Three
By the time Augusta arrived home late that afternoon, several packages from Madame Lisette’s were waiting for her.
“I’ve rarely seen such beautiful gowns, my lady.” Gobert held up a muslin gown the color of blue ice with embroidery on the hem and sleeves. “They arrived just in time for your first event.”
Gobert, an experienced lady’s maid about five years older than Augusta, had been recommended by Bolton, Grace’s lady’s maid, last year before they left Town to return to the country. Over the course of Gobert’s employment, she had made it clear that she would be happy to accompany Augusta wherever she wished to take her.
“Madame Lisette is said to be an artist,” Augusta said as Gobert held up another gown that reminded Augusta of the sun when it was covered by clouds. She liked her garments even better than the ones her sisters wore a few Seasons ago. “To create these without even having set eyes on me, I think she must be.”
“They certainly suit you.” Gobert unwrapped an evening gown in pink with a band of pearls on the sleeves and scattered over the bodice. “Would you like the pink for this evening?”
“Yes, please.” Augusta had received word that Dotty’s sister, Henrietta Stern, had arrived in Town that day and wondered if she would be present this evening. Not that Augusta knew Henrietta well, but at least she’d know someone. And they had got on well the few times they had met. “With the silver spangled shawl?”
“That will do nicely, my lady.”
* * *
Later that evening she entered Lady Bellamny’s house escorted by her mother and sister Louisa.
“Your grace, Patience.” Her ladyship squeezed Louisa’s hand and bussed Mama’s cheek. “Lady Augusta. How are you?” Lady Bellamny’s shrewd gaze made Augusta feel as if she was once again being inspected.
“I am well, ma’am.” Augusta curtseyed. “It is nice to see you again.”
“And you.” Without another word, her ladyship greeted the next pair of women.
“My dears,” Mama said, “I see some ladies with whom I wish to speak. I shall see you later in the evening.”
She was soon swallowed by a mix of brightly colored and pale gowns.
“I don’t know how you got away without her making some comment,” Louisa said with feeling. “Charlotte and I did not.”
“I’ve met her several times before when I visited Mama.” Augusta grinned at her sister. “I think she has already said everything she had to say.” She scanned the drawing room for anyone she knew. “Look, there are Dotty and Henrietta.”
“I didn’t know her sister had arrived.” Louisa took Augusta’s arm and headed toward their friends.
“Yes, late this afternoon. I wrote, hoping she would attend this evening.” Their friends were standing with four other women. “Who are the other ladies?”
“Viscountess Featherton; her daughter Meg, in the red gown, is the Marchioness of Hawksworth. The younger lady must be Georgiana Featherton, who is just out. The lady with the very pale blond hair is Caro, Countess of Huntley, and the one next to her with the mahogany hair is Lady Dorie Calthorp, Huntley’s sister. This is her second Season.”
So that was the former Lady Caro. She was extremely beautiful. She also appeared to be very happy. “Dorie is an unusual name.”
Louisa stopped to introduce her to another lady. “Eugénie, I’d like to introduce my sister, Lady Augusta Vivers. Augusta, this is Viscountess Wivenly.”
The woman had dark brown hair and a creamy complexion. Much like Madame Lisette. “Enchantée.” Viscountess Wivenly’s brown eyes sparkled with welcome. “It appears we are all escorting our sisters.” She drew a young woman forward with lighter brown hair and eyes that reminded Augusta of sapphires. “I would like to introduce my sister by marriage, Lady Adeline Wivenly. Adeline, please meet the Duchess of Rothwell and her sister, Lady Augusta Vivers.”
Lady Adeline sank into a graceful curtsey. “Your grace.” She rose and took the hand Augusta held out. “I’m very glad to meet you, my lady.”
Louisa and Lady Wivenly had begun talking. “I am glad to meet you as well, Lady Adeline. Is your sister-in-law French?”
“Yes.” Glancing at the lady, she smiled fondly. “She is a cousin by marriage as well. My uncle married her mother when Eugénie was young. She was raised in Saint Thomas in the Danish West Indies.”
“She is very striking.” And elegant. She made almost every woman here look slightly dowdy somehow.
Lady Adeline chuckled lightly. “She is all that and charming, but she has a wicked temper when it comes to any kind of injustice. And she keeps my brother in line. Something not even my parents have been able to do.” She linked her arm with Augusta’s. “I’ll introduce you to some other ladies making their come out.”
“And I shall introduce you to my friend, Miss Stern.” Augusta guided Lady Adeline to where Henrietta stood and performed the introductions.
A few moments later, they were introduced to Dorie, who detested her real name Dorcas—that answered that question—and the others Louisa had pointed out earlier.
Augusta was glad when Lady Dorie suggested they address each other by first names in private. It appeared as if their sisters were doing the same thing.
“What are you hoping to find in a husband?” Dorie asked each of them.
Adeline shrugged one shoulder. “A gentleman who is not like my brother was before he married.”
“I do not understand,” Augusta said.
Adeline’s lips formed a thin line. “He was a rake.”
“In that case, I completely agree.” Augusta wondered what Lady Wivenly did to keep him in line.
“My gentleman must be able to make me want to laugh and kiss him at the same time,” Georgiana said. “I would not mind if he were a bit like my brother. Featherton. Kit is the epitome of a gentleman.”
“A man who is kind to me and others, and that I love,” Henrietta said.
“What about you, Dorie?” Augusta asked.
“I only know that I’ll recognize him when I see him.” Dorie heaved a sigh. “It must run in the family. Neither my mother or sister married in their first or second Seasons. What about you, Augusta?”
She bit down on her bottom lip. Should she tell them she was not looking for a husband? They might be as shocked as her mother had been. If that was the case, she would have no friends. Yet, she was fairly positive that Henrietta might be surprised, but not disapproving. After all, she knew how much Augusta loved to learn new things, and she had mentioned the idea once. Then again, it might be best if she wanted their help in avoiding any traps. She took a breath. They would either like her or not. “I have decided to attend university before searching for a husband.”
“University?” Adeline said in a hushed tone. “But where?”
The other two ladies’ eyes had widened. Henrietta just arched a brow. “So, you are going through with it?”
“Yes.” Augusta nodded. “In Padua, Italy. If I am allowed to attend.” She told them about the plans she had made thus far. “Baron Philipp von Neumann, who works for Prince Esterházy, has been communicating with Professor Giuseppe Angeloni in Padua. I have also been exchanging letters with the professor. He is convinced that I will be admitted.” The other ladies, who had leaned toward her so that she would not have to raise her voice, nodded. “One of the problems is my mother. She would dearly like to see me wed or at least attracted enough to a gentleman that I
will not wish to leave England.”
Dorie’s eyes widened even further. “Is she your guardian?”
“No. My brother, the Earl of Worthington, is my guardian.”
Before they could continue their conversation, Mama came up with another lady. “Lady Dorchester, I would like you to meet my second eldest daughter, Lady Augusta.” Mama smiled in a way Augusta did not quite trust. “Augusta, this is the Marchioness of Dorchester.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” Augusta curtseyed. The woman could not possibly be old enough to have a daughter her age. “Do you have a sister out as well?”
“I am delighted to meet you as well.” Her ladyship turned to Mama. “She is just as lovely as you said.” Lady Dorchester glanced at Augusta. “No, my sisters are all married and my daughters are still much too young. Is it true that you are knowledgeable in languages and geography?”
Something was definitely going on. But what? Her ladyship did not look old enough to have a grown son either. “Yes. They are my passion.” Augusta debated mentioning her plan to attend university, but decided not to say anything with her mother present. “I wish to travel someday.”
Her ladyship’s green eyes brightened as if a candle had been lit behind them. “If you marry the right gentleman, I am sure he will take you to Europe.”
Unlikely at best. Augusta hurriedly introduced the rest of the young ladies. There was a scheme afoot and she did not want to be caught in it.
* * *
When Dorchester entered the parlor, Phinn put down the newssheet he’d been reading and waited.
A piece of paper was all but hidden in his brother’s fist. “Would you like to go with me to fetch Helen from the soirée?”
Why in the name of all things holy would Dorchester think Phinn would want to do that? It took a few moments for him to formulate a response. “I thought she took the town coach.”
“Er, she did. But she sent it back because . . . because she knew what time the event ended.” His brother’s fingers tightened around the paper. “I thought it would be nice to fetch her myself. I’ve heard many gentlemen do.”
Many men were also looking for wives, and almost every young lady on the Marriage Mart would be present. Fortunately, he’d already untied his cravat. Phinn pretended he was stifling a yawn. “I’d have to change, and I really need to find my bed. It’s been a long couple of days, and an even longer sea passage.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, then.” Poor Chess looked as if he’d failed at the only task he’d been given.
“Until morning.” Phinn stood, stretched, and rubbed his face. “Good night.”
He walked with slow steps to the stairs and climbed them heavily. He’d already convinced his brother he could leave, but Helen was a different matter. He had absolutely no doubt at all that she had found at least one lady she wanted him to meet. Not being delusional, Phinn knew the introduction would take place, yet the longer he put it off the better. Still, he damn sure wasn’t going to be trapped in a house with all the eligible young ladies in Town. He might never get out!
Phinn entered his room, pulling off his cravat as he did.
“Good evening.” Boman put down a book and stood.
“What the devil are you doing here? I thought you’d be sleeping by now.” Phinn threw his cravat over a chair and started on his waistcoat.
“Your brother’s valet tracked me down and insisted I go over a list of valets. I assume, since he was more than a little put out, you rejected his advice.”
“I rejected his absolute decision over a servant who would be working for me. You know what I want. It was your idea for the valet to travel with us. Ergo, you get to hire him.” He shrugged off his jacket. “Where is your room? It had damn well better not be where the servants are housed.”
“I’m in the room next to his lordship’s secretary. It’s not large, but it’s bigger than what I’ve been used to lately.”
That was as good as could be expected. Boman was gentry, after all. At least as far as Phinn was concerned. His mother had been a vicar’s daughter who married a wealthy merchant. Phinn had met Boman when they’d attended Eton. After that, they’d gone to Oxford together. It was only because his father had refused to finance Boman’s travel that he was working for Phinn. Although, Boman no longer needed the position. Before they’d left Mexico, he’d received a letter informing him that one of his mother’s great-uncles had been so pleased he was behaving like a gentleman and not a merchant, he’d left him a comfortable independence. “As long as you are satisfied . . .”
“I am.” His secretary gave a rueful grin. “One can’t fool an English servant when it comes to where one’s place in life is. As far as they are concerned, my father’s status is all that matters.”
“They’d better treat you as a gentleman or Dorchester will hear about it.” Phinn removed his breeches. Required attire for dinner with his sister-in-law. “Is there anything else? If not, I’m going to bed.”
“Not a thing.” His secretary yawned. “His lordship’s valet will be in to help you dress in the morning.”
He hadn’t liked the servant when the man was his father’s valet. It was a good thing Phinn didn’t have a weapon on him. He picked up a small, and completely useless, pillow. “Go before I throw this at you.”
Boman laughed as he ducked through the door. “Good night, my lord.”
“Cawker.” Phinn heard his secretary’s chuckle from down the corridor.
Having had no trouble at all falling asleep, he woke when the bed curtains were drawn vigorously back, flooding the bed with light.
“Good morning, my lord.” Pickerell, Dorchester’s valet, sniffed.
“Good morning, Pickle.” Knowing it would irritate him, Phinn used the name he’d called the man as a child.
Alas, the old prig refused to be baited. “Would you like me to shave you, my lord?”
Pickle was the last person Phinn would allow to touch him with a sharp instrument. “No, I’m used to doing for myself. Thank you for asking.”
“Heathenish ways,” the servant muttered just loud enough for him to hear. “Very well. I shall return in a half hour to dress you.”
A half hour later, he was sitting in a chair, fully dressed, when Pickle entered the room. Phinn stood and pulled down his jacket. “I waited so that you would not wonder where I’d gone.”
Before the valet bowed, he could have sworn he’d seen a look of distaste on the man’s face. “Very good, my lord.”
His brother would probably hear about his lack of refinement, or clothing that a gentleman could don by himself.
Phinn could almost taste his morning cup of tea. As he approached the breakfast room, he heard Helen speaking. “I do not understand why you could not have brought Phineas last night.”
“You would not have wanted me to rouse him from his sleep, would you?”
He struggled not to laugh. Most of the time it appeared his brother was under the cat’s paw, but then there were times like this.
Several moments later she sighed. “No, I suppose not. I had so wished I could have introduced him to Lady Augusta, Lord Worthington’s sister. She is perfect for him. I know it.”
There was a clink of a cup being set down. “What makes you say that?”
“She is highly educated, and has an interest in languages and geography.” Other than the sound of tea being poured, the room fell silent for a moment. “Lady Wolverton, her mother, assures me she is not at all a bluestocking. She is extremely lovely and well mannered. She is also well versed on any subject mentioned.”
Languages and geography? Phinn scoffed to himself. She probably knew some French and Italian, and thought maps had pretty colors.
“She sounds exactly the type of lady Phinn would like,” his brother said in a noncommittal tone.
“Next week when the Season begins,” Helen continued, “her mother is giving Lady Augusta a ball at Rothwell House. Phineas will have evening clothes by th
en, and I shall introduce him to her.”
Phinn wanted to groan. Well, it had to happen sooner than later. And the sooner he met the lady, the sooner he could dismiss her. How many more females would his sister-in-law throw his way? Probably dozens. This was going to be a very long several weeks.
Chapter Four
Sunlight streamed through the windows as Augusta was leaving the breakfast room when Walter rushed up. He grabbed her hand and started pulling her along with him. “You have to come with me now.”
“I don’t understand.” He hadn’t acted like this for a few years now. “What is it?”
He gave her a sly grin. “You’ll see.”
Thorton opened the front door as she and Walter approached. “My lady, Mr. Carpenter.”
Not even the butler’s disapproval could dim Walter’s mood. They stepped out onto the stairs and Augusta stopped.
A robin’s egg blue, high-perched phaeton, trimmed in gold, with two gray horses harnessed to it, stood on the street in front of them. Jones, her groom, was grinning from ear to ear while Durant, her footman, stood next to the carriage.
“Is it mine?” She could barely believe it. Charlotte and Louisa had shared a phaeton during their Season. But Augusta had never dreamed she would have one.
“It’s not for me,” Walter scoffed. “Besides, who else in this family likes that color blue as much as you do?”
“Oh, my.” She walked slowly toward the vehicle, afraid it might disappear like Cinderella’s carriage. “It is beautiful.”
“It’s not as high as most of them,” he pointed out. “And it’s more stable.”
“Who bought it for me?” Not Matt. He would have mentioned it.
“Lord Wolverton’s groom brought it around, my lady,” Durant said.
The scent of new leather and horse wafted in the air as she paused beside the wheeler. Reaching out, she stroked her velvet nose. “They are lovely.”
“Prettiest mares I’ve ever seen.” Jones rubbed the other horse’s nose as it softly blew into his hand and snorted. “And that’s saying a lot.”
