Married to the Lord (The Wallflower Brides Book 2)

by Samantha Holt

  Several heartbeats of silence passed over the table, punctuated by the clatter of teacups and the chatter of gossiping ladies. It still seemed deafening in its absence of sound.

  “Goodness,” Chloe breathed.

  “I know.” Augusta closed her eyes briefly and willed away any tears. What sort of a person was she, kissing her fiancé’s brother? Or letting herself be kissed? Or...whatever it was.

  What was even worse was when she had been alone with him yesterday, she had wanted him to kiss her again. She had been about to tell him that she was ready to end things with Henry. That, regardless of what he felt, she could not do it, especially not after falling so easily into Miles’ arms. But then he had announced Henry’s return and she could only thank God she had not said a thing and appeared an utter fool.

  “Was it...nice?” Chloe asked.

  Augusta blinked. “I...well, yes.”

  “Better than Henry?”

  “Henry never really kissed me before he left,” she admitted.

  “Henry is a fool,” Chloe muttered.

  “He is n—” Augusta stopped herself. She was done dashing to his defense.

  Chloe topped up their cups from the teapot in the center of the table. “Does anyone else know of this kiss?”

  Augusta looked to Joanna.

  “She knew before me?” Chloe shook her head and pouted. “How unfair.”

  “Chloe—”

  “I am jesting.” Chloe gave Augusta a little nudge with her elbow. “Though I hope you planned to tell me eventually.”

  Augusta dropped two sugars into her tea and added milk, stirring it for far too long and watching the tawny liquid swirl about the cup. “I am deeply ashamed.”

  Chloe arched a red eyebrow. “Henry should be deeply ashamed for neglecting you for so long.”

  “I know you think I am silly for waiting for so long. But none of this matters anymore. Not Miles, not these rumors, not the...kiss. Henry is returning home soon.”

  “I do not think you are silly.” Chloe shook her head vigorously. “You are just a more patient and dutiful woman than I am. Those are not bad traits.”

  “Precisely,” Joanna agreed.

  “But you do not think I should marry him?”

  “I did not say that. Did I say that, Joanna?” Chloe asked.

  “I know that is what you are thinking. I know it is what a lot of people are thinking.” She turned her attention back to her untouched cup of tea.

  “We will always support your decisions, Augusta,” Joanna assured her. “You know that. If marrying Henry upon his return makes you happy, then you should do that.”

  “That is if he still wants to marry me,” Augusta muttered.

  “He would not break off the engagement and ruin you, I am sure. His brother would not allow it for one,” Joanna stated firmly.

  Augusta suspected Joanna was right. Miles would never let anything bad happen to her. Why could she not have turned Henry down and...well...nothing, she supposed. Miles was determined Henry should return and marry her. That had to mean any feelings for her had long passed—if there were any feelings at all.

  “With any luck, once you marry Henry, these rumors shall fade,” Joanna said. “Though I would be careful not to be seen alone with Miles again.”

  Chloe grinned. “And no more kissing.”

  Augusta tried to smile at the teasing but it felt forced. Especially when all she could think of was kissing Miles again.

  “Let us talk on more pleasant things,” Augusta suggested. “How are your wedding plans coming along?”

  Chloe made a face. “Mama is trying to make it the biggest event in all of Christendom, I think.” She smiled. “Though, Brook is rather excellent at managing her I’ve found. I trust he will keep it the small affair we have hoped for.”

  “Soon, you shall be planning yours, Augusta,” Joanna said. “Perhaps Chloe will be able to help.”

  “I hardly know what I am doing with my own. I’m leaving it entirely in the hands of others. I fear I would be useless!”

  Augusta gave a weak smile but struggled to pay attention to the rest of the conversation. It could very well not be long until she was planning her own wedding. But did she even want to? It would solve many problems—both families would be happy about the connection and she would be looked after with no concerns for her lack of inheritance. Even Miles seemed pleased his brother was returning.

  Had this news come even a mere six months ago, she might have been delirious but things had changed. She had changed. The time passed and her small increase in confidence—and the kiss from Miles—made her feel like she was almost an entirely different person.

  They finished their tea and headed out toward the carriage, which was waiting by the fountain on the outskirts of town.

  “Are you worried?” Joanna asked, as they walked along the cobbled road toward the waiting vehicle.

  “About the wedding?”

  “No, the rumors.”

  “Oh.” Augusta pressed her lips together. “I suppose so.” Though, honestly, as awful as they were and how much they could impact her, she had buried that concern under her thoughts of Henry returning.

  “Perhaps you should speak with Miles,” Joanna suggested. “He may have confided in someone and that is where the rumor came from.”

  It was hard to imagine strong, stoic Miles confiding in anyone, but she had told Joanna so why would she presume he might not do the same?

  “I suppose I ought to.”

  Joanna grinned. “Here’s your chance.”

  Augusta stilled. She had not noticed Miles on horseback, riding from the direction of town.

  “I am not sure I should,” Augusta whispered. “If we are seen together...”

  “Lord Ashwick,” Joanna greeted brightly.

  “Mrs. Lockhart.” He tugged on the brim of his hat. “Miss Larkin.” His gaze landed upon Augusta and a tremor ran down her spine, making her feel as though she had turned to liquid. “Miss Snow.”

  Was it her imagination or did his voice deepen at the mention of her name?

  “We were just about to take a little stroll and stretch our legs before returning home,” Joanna announced.

  Chloe scowled. “We were?”

  Joanna ignored Chloe and Augusta’s imploring look. “Perhaps you might accompany us?”

  He glanced at Augusta, who could not decide whether to look away or meet his intense dark gaze. She did the latter, though hardly of her own will. His gaze sucked her in, leaving her powerless in his presence.

  “I think perhaps I should—” Miles indicated down one of the country roads leading away from town.

  “Nonsense.” Joanna indicated for him to dismount. “I insist you join us. After all, who knows what ruffians we might meet along the way? Your company will surely offer protection.”

  Augusta winced. Their small town was known to be extremely safe and it was a rare occurrence that any ruffians stepped foot in it. Miles would know that. But, she supposed Joanna was doing her a favor. She did need to speak with Miles about these rumors, no matter how embarrassing it might be to discuss that night. If he could find the source of them, he could put a stop to them before it did any damage to either of them.

  Miles gave a tilted smile. “If you insist.” He dismounted and led his mount by the reins. “I would never forgive myself if you were hurt by ruffians because of your lack of company,” he said dryly.

  They strolled along the country road that would eventually lead to Chloe’s house. Joanna controlled much of the conversation, giving Augusta little time to speak with Miles. It gave her too much time to sneak sideways looks at him, though. His broad shoulders and strong profile kept sending little shivers down to her stomach that blossomed into something sweet and hot at the same time. He glanced her way and she cast her gaze to the ground.

  Once they were farther away from town, Joanna and Chloe dropped back a little, leaving Miles walking at her side. She gulped down a breath and willed
her heavily beating heart to slow. “I-I have heard a rumor,” she announced.

  “Oh yes,” he said. “Was it a good one?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, that’s a mighty shame. Whoever cast it about must be a useless gossip.”

  “No, that’s not what I—” She peered at his amused expression and rolled her eyes. “Miles, the rumor is about us.”

  “Us?” A dark brow lifted.

  “Yes.”

  “What about?”

  Oh Lord, he was going to make her say it. Her face heated. “About...us spending time together.”

  “Time together?” he repeated.

  She threw her hands up in the air. “I have said it before and I’ll say it again, why do you enjoy being so obtuse?”

  “Perhaps I simply cannot help myself and do not do it out of pleasure. Perhaps your company ties me in knots and all I can do is speak obtusely, Gus.”

  She groaned aloud. “I do not know why you cannot resist teasing me even on the most serious of matters.”

  “Very well.” He adopted a stern expression. “I am all seriousness now. Explain to me what is happening.”

  She pursed her lips and eyed him, seeing that flicker of a curve to his lips. “Apparently there has been talk that we might be forming an...attachment.”

  He chuckled. “Is that it?”

  “Says a man who will never know the fear of being ruined,” she muttered.

  “Forgive me, Gus, that was wrong of me.” He paused, and when Augusta glanced back, she realized they were unaccompanied on the road. She had seen Joanna do the same with Chloe and arrange time alone with Brook but this was different. She did not need or want to be alone with Miles.

  Not one jot.

  Especially when she found herself looking at his mouth and remembering how it felt upon hers.

  “Where exactly did you hear this rumor?”

  “Chloe told me of it. Apparently, Mr. Samuel Benedict came to her fiancé with word of it.”

  Miles nodded. “I see.”

  “Miles, you did not tell anyone of…well…”

  “The kiss?”

  She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded.

  “I told no one.”

  She blew out a breath. There was no chance Joanna would have said a word to anyone so the rumor had to be speculation and completely baseless. But why would someone wish to spread rumors about her?

  “I will speak with Benedict. See if I can discover the source of this gossip and put a stop to it.”

  “Thank you, Miles. I would appreciate that.”

  “Anything for you, Gus, you know that.”

  His jaunty smile made her want to cry for some reason.

  Chapter Ten

  “I suspect I know why I am here.”

  Miles watched Brook Waverly set down his hat as he joined Miles in the drawing room. The more masculine of the rooms, this had been Miles’s father’s preferred room, decorated in dark-stained walnut, red, and gold.

  Miles waited until Waverly was seated then joined him while a footman poured them a dash of whisky each.

  “I thought you might.”

  “Miss Snow,” Waverly said simply.

  Miles nodded and took a sip of whisky, savoring how it warmed his insides. He tried not to touch alcohol much these days but at the moment, he needed the comforting warmth. He’d tried to make light of these rumors and he was fairly certain no one really knew he and Augusta had kissed but he could see she was fearful of the damage they might do. He’d promised her he’d do what he could to protect her reputation and he meant it.

  He knew without doubt he would do anything for her.

  And there was his problem. It meant he could never tell her of his feelings for her. Never hope that there was some slim chance she might really want him instead of Henry. She and his brother were meant to be together, of that he was certain. They matched well and despite Henry’s failings as a fiancé, he was certain he would make a good husband. Augusta would no doubt be sublimely happy once married to him.

  What more could Miles ask for?

  He blew out a breath and forced aside any thoughts of having her for himself.

  “I’ll be frank, Waverly, you said there were rumors about us?”

  “Benedict came to me. Thought it was best that Miss Snow hear it from one of her friends. I know little save from the fact there was talk at one of Benedict’s dinner parties of your closeness and that perhaps Henry had waited too long and she was growing close to you.”

  Miles grimaced. It was speculation on the behalf of whoever had put the rumor about as they had hardly been seen together at all but Augusta’s recent increased popularity with the opposite sex may have sparked notice.

  “Did Benedict say where it came from?”

  “He could not.” Brook took a sip of whiskey. “His wife overheard it but could not name the source.”

  “So there are plenty of people who have already heard of the rumor.” Miles pressed fingers to his forehead. This was not good news. For women, sometimes it only took a whiff of a scandal to ruin them. He’d been foolish in even going near Augusta. What if someone had seen how he looked at her and made the assumption? What if he was not nearly as good at hiding his feelings as he thought?

  “Unfortunately so,” Waverly concurred.

  “My brother is returning soon,” Miles said. “His ship should be docking in Southampton any day now.”

  Waverly nodded. “I had heard.” He leaned back against the red velvet chair. “I would think that a wedding would put to bed any rumors. If Henry sets a date quickly, surely everyone will forget such gossip?”

  “I can only hope.” Even if the idea of them hastening down the aisle made his heart feel as though it was splintering in two. “I would hope they do not start their married life off on a sour note.”

  “If I were you, I’d find the source of the talk.” Brook finished his drink and set the glass down on a gilded serving tray, set in the center of the coffee table. “If you can get them to admit they were lying, it would go a long way to protecting Miss Snow.”

  “You must have read my mind. Do you perchance know who was in attendance at Benedict’s party?”

  “The Livelys, I believe. And a few of the new crowd. You should ask Benedict but he is in Bath for the next few days.”

  Miles sighed. He doubted the Livelys, who were decent and fairly quiet folk, would have anything to say. The noveau rich, however... “Was Jenkins there?”

  “Jenkins? Probably.”

  Miles shook his head. He knew precisely where the rumors had come from. No doubt it was revenge for Miles punching him the other day. He should have known someone like Jenkins would stoop so low as to try to damage a good lady’s reputation. The chances were, if he did not put a stop to it, Jenkins might even do worse.

  “It sounds as though you need to pay someone a visit,” Waverly commented, rising to his feet.

  Miles stood too. “My thanks, Waverly.”

  “Try not to kill the man,” Waverly said with a grin. “Just a few bruises should do it.”

  “I won’t kill him and I have my doubts he’d even consider a duel.”

  “I’ll be your reluctant second if needs be.”

  Miles shook his head. “I have a suspicion your wife-to-be would not be impressed.”

  “You’re probably right, but the offer stands.”

  Miles saw Waverly out then ordered his horse saddled. He could ride out to Carlton Manor swiftly enough, though it would be an easier journey in the carriage. But he suspected Jenkins was more likely to be staying close by, particularly if the man was intent on doing damage to Augusta.

  There were few places for men like Jenkins to enjoy themselves in Hampshire—for the most part it was a quiet, country life and their town had a reputation of being rather sleepy. However, there were inns on the road that catered to those who preferred a certain lifestyle, and he knew just the one. Miles rubbed a hand across his face. It had been
some time since he’d set foot in such places and he had rather hoped he would never have to again.

  “For Augusta,” he murmured to himself.

  Once his horse was saddled, he rode out into the next county, crossing the border between Hampshire and West Sussex. A mile down the road, he came across the traveler’s inn. He sucked in a breath and led his horse through the carriage entrance and into the stables. For an inn frequented by those on the road to the coast, the stables could always be relied upon to have fresh water and feed for the horses as well as hardworking groomsmen. It was not to cater to travelers, however. No, the Bell Inn preferred richer clientele who had plenty of cash to lose—be it to gambling or to whores.

  It had been years since he’d been to the place. Miles could safely say this place had been the start of his downfall into a life far from that of a gentleman. He could blame the pressure from his parents or how dull he found London society or even his privileged upbringing for protecting him from such places but the fact was, he’d been a fool. Worse than that, he’d been thoughtless and selfish, not caring how his behavior might impact others. Places like the Bell Inn had become home and he’d wasted plenty of money and time drinking and gaming.

  Tugging at his cravat as it seemed to tighten around his throat, he ducked into the rear entranceway of the whitewashed building. Mud and boot prints marred the lower halves of the interior walls. Evidence of fights revealed itself in fist-sized holes in some of the wooden paneling that lined the wall to the right—a brief reminder of the inn’s ancient history. The light was low, lanterns and candles lit few and far between while the shutters on the windows were half-closed—deliberately so unsuspecting patrons would be more vulnerable to pickpockets or someone cheating at cards. The inn employed several people to help with such matters, ensuring they received a cut of any ill-gotten gains.

  Smoke lingered around the rafters. Miles ducked under several of the uneven beams as he made his way to the bar. Ancient buildings like this were never designed to accommodate someone of his size and stature. He allowed himself a grim smile.

  He recalled the first time he’d entered this building as a young man. His size and strength had always made him feel invulnerable and he felt like he owned the world when he came across this place. Men from all walks of life wished to come to know him. Of course, a lot of that was to do with how useful his fists could be and the fact he was heir to his father’s fortune and title. He hadn’t much cared at the time. These people were far more interesting than anybody could find a White’s or Almack’s.