Believe in Me Read online

  “He does not need them,” Dorchester said drily. “They are only to make him appear more serious.”

  Augusta gave a soft thrill of laughter. “Well, they work. You appeared extremely serious.”

  “That is not the only reason.” Phinn scowled at his brother. “They are helpful if one must change one’s appearance slightly.”

  “I am quite sure I do not wish to hear about that.” Dorchester bowed. “I shall bid you adieu. Lady Augusta, I wish you a safe journey to the Continent.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” She curtseyed.

  Phinn took her arm. “I’m glad he came. It had not occurred to me that you should have had a maid or someone with you.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it either.” She grimaced. “But his lordship was good company, after he figured out he did not need to explain anything to me.”

  “That must have surprised him.” He chuckled.

  “I rather think it did.” She sucked in a breath when he lifted her to the carriage bench.

  Once they arrived in France, he’d have to think of similar ways to make her aware of the effect he had on her. That they had on each other.

  Much too soon they arrived at Dorchester House and Augusta brought the horses to a halt. “This is good-bye, I suppose.”

  “Not good-bye.” He wanted to gaze into her eyes again, but she would not meet his look. Taking her hand, he kissed her gloved fingers before climbing down. “I shall see you again.”

  “Someday perhaps.”

  She started the carriage, but he remained on the pavement until he could no longer see her. The next two weeks were going to be the longest of his life.

  “He’s still watching you, my lady.” Jones’s unnecessary comment was not helpful to Augusta’s peace of mind.

  “I do not wish to know.” Neither did she wish to feel sad about not seeing him again. Yet, even if he loved her, he could not wait to marry until she finished university.

  Once they arrived home, she went directly to her bedchamber, changed into a day dress, and donned her smock. A professor of ancient history she had met in London, who was now in Edinburgh, had sent her a puzzle. She solved it, then crafted one for him, and readied it to be mailed.

  Augusta was about to continue reading a guide book on France she’d purchased, when Gobert rushed into the room. “My lady. I think your cousin has arrived.”

  Augusta stood at the front door as Cousin Prue gazed out of an old-fashioned traveling coach. The lady herself was anything but old-fashioned. Her sable brown Vivers’s hair was still unmarred by gray. Small laugh lines fanned out from her blue eyes.

  She waited for a footman to hand her down, shook out her skirt, glanced up at the open door, and smiled. “You must be Augusta.”

  “I am indeed.” Holding out her hand, she laughed. Cousin Prue was perfect. She was of average height, and reminded Augusta of her sisters and every other Vivers lady she had ever met. Cousin Prue also appeared much younger than her thirty years. Although that might be due to the energy that seemed to surround her. “I thought you were coming by hired coach. Surely this is not it?”

  “Dreadful, isn’t it?” She took Augusta’s hand, then drew her in for a hug. “But at least it was comfortable, which is more than the post chaises are. I don’t feel as if my teeth have been rattled from my head.”

  A tall, angular woman alighted from the carriage. “This is my maid, Button,” Prue said. “She has been with me since before my marriage.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Augusta said. “I’ll ask our housekeeper, Mrs. Thorton, to make up a room for you and introduce you to my maid, Gobert.” They waited until a footman took a satchel from her cousin’s maid before starting up the short walk to the hall where the children and Walter—she really couldn’t call him a child any longer—awaited. “How was your journey here?”

  “I shall tell you about it if you give me some tea,” Cousin Prue replied.

  “First you must be introduced to my younger brothers and sisters and Matt and Grace. Oh, and do not trip over the dogs.” It never ceased to amaze Augusta how easy it was to literally trip over a Great Dane.

  She laughed again when Cousin Prue entered the hall and her jaw dropped. “I’d been told there were a lot of children. But I didn’t expect this many.” Cousin Prue’s eyes narrowed. “You are not all Vivers.”

  “No.” Augusta grinned, thinking about the contrast they made. The Vivers with their dark brown hair and eyes that had been compared to lapis, and the Carpenters, who had golden blond hair and eyes the color of a clear summer sky.

  The first one to greet Cousin Prue was Mary. “Good day. I am Lady Mary Carpenter. You must be our Cousin Prudence.” Mary took Cousin Prue’s hand. “I shall introduce you, then we will have tea in the morning room, and you can meet Grace and Matt.”

  Once everyone had been made known to their cousin she begged them to call her Prue instead of Prudence. “For I assure you, I am not well named.”

  The twins and Madeline carried Cousin Prue off, leaving Augusta to walk with Mary. “That was very well done.”

  Mary smiled broadly. “I have been practicing, so Grace said I could be the one to introduce Prue. She is very nice.”

  “Yes, I think we will get on well. Where are Grace and Matt?” It was odd they were not here to greet Prue. Come to think of it, neither were the dogs. Daisy had been in the hall when Augusta went out to meet Prue.

  “Matt is in the nursery, and Grace went to get him.” As if Mary knew what Augusta’s next question was, she added, “Duke is with him and Daisy went up when a footman was sent to fetch them.”

  As if they had been summoned, Grace and Matt, followed by the Great Danes, came down the stairs. “I take it Cousin Prudence is in the morning room?”

  Mary glanced down the now-empty corridor. “Yes. She wants to be called Prue.”

  “Augusta, what do you think of her?” Grace asked.

  “I like her a great deal. I think you will as well.” At least Augusta hoped her sister and brother would feel the same way she did about Prue.

  “She looks like a Vivers,” Mary added knowingly.

  They entered the morning room to find the rest of the family crowded around Prue. The boys peppered her with questions about the war in Spain.

  She was in the middle of answering when the dogs made themselves known by putting their heads under her hands. “Aren’t you beautiful?”

  Mary introduced Matt and Grace.

  “I hope your trip was not too tedious,” Grace said as she sank onto one of the two sofas.

  “Not at all.” Prue’s eyes sparkled with good humor. “I love to travel and have been feeling . . . oh, as if I needed to be moving again.” She glanced at Grace. “My parents were wonderful after Jonathan died. I do not know what I would have done without them, but it is time for me to make a new life for myself. Augusta’s request that I act as her companion came at the perfect time.” Prue smiled again. “I may not travel by myself any more than she may.”

  “Very true.” Grace returned Prue’s smile.

  Less than ten minutes later, tea had been poured, and everyone had plates of Cook’s tarts and biscuits. Augusta remembered her cousin hadn’t answered her question about the coach. “Prue, how did you come to have the traveling carriage?”

  She smiled wickedly. “As you know, I have been with my mother and father, helping them at the rectory. Much to his mother’s dismay, the squire’s son had decided I would do very well as his wife. Nothing I have been able to say to him would convince him that I am not interested in the position.” She chuckled lightly. “Once his mother discovered I intended to leave, she offered me her traveling coach.”

  “Oh, dear.” Grace laughed. “Does he expect you to return?”

  “I am quite sure he does.” Prue pulled a face. “He is very worthy and could not conceive of a lady wanting to journey abroad or indeed anywhere at all without benefit of a husband. I will tell you he has berated my father for allowing me
to follow the drum.” Prue grinned again. “Poor Papa, there was really nothing he could have done to stop me. And I am very glad he did not. For the most part, I had an excellent time.”

  “I never thought about my sisters’ willfulness being a family trait.” Matt closed his eyes for a second. “Yet I see that it must be.” He finished his tea and set the cup down. “I feel for your father.”

  “I would not be too sorry for him.” She laughed. “If it was not for my mother declaring she would wed him and no other, they wouldn’t be married.” She held her cup out for more tea. “Now, when do I meet Mr. and Mrs. Addison, who Augusta has told me are also cousins but on the Carpenter side?”

  “If you are not too tired, we will have a meeting after dinner with Jane and her husband, Hector, who, as you know, is in charge of the trip.”

  “I am not tired at all.” Prue stroked Daisy, who had leaned against her. “I feel as if I haven’t had so much energy in a very long time.”

  As Augusta poured Prue another cup, Grace explained that when Jane and Hector were young, Jane’s father had refused to allow her to marry Hector. She refused to wed the man her father had chosen. Actually stating her objection at the altar, since her father had refused to listen to her earlier. Later she had acted as a companion to Grace’s mother after her father died. When they had all come to Town for Charlotte’s come out, Jane and Hector met again and married not long afterward. “She also wished to travel, and he promised to show her Europe.”

  “I see willfulness is not confined to Vivers ladies,” Prue said, giving Matt an arch look.

  He ran a hand down his face as the rest of them went into whoops.

  Augusta’s throat tightened. How she would miss all her brothers and sisters and the dogs. Still, she’d have parts of her family with her, and she would not be gone forever.

  It was a shame she could not ask Phinn to wait for her. On the other hand, he needed to find a lady he could love. Obviously, that was not her.

  “Well, now.” Prue stood. “If someone will show me to my room, I shall wash off the dust and change my gown.”

  “We’ll show you,” the twins and Madeline said in chorus.

  The rest of the children excused themselves as well and the parlor was suddenly very empty.

  Augusta picked up the last ginger biscuit, took a bite, and swallowed. “How do you like her?”

  “I agree with you.” Grace tugged the bellpull. “She’ll make an excellent companion.”

  After finishing her biscuit, Augusta rose. “I’ll go change for dinner.”

  Saying good-bye to Phinn had been difficult, because no matter what he said, it was good-bye, but with Prue’s arrival Augusta felt as if her world had started to right itself again. She’d have so much to occupy her time she wouldn’t miss him at all.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The first rays of the sun streaked the antelucan sky in shades of pink, purple, and gray. Boman had been successful in hiring the coachmen and grooms. Although, he’d had to interview several of them before he found men who didn’t mind leaving England immediately and for an indefinite period of time. One of the grooms had left yesterday with their hacks so that they’d be in Dover when Phinn and the rest of his small group arrived.

  The luggage was loaded on the roof and boot, and Musson had placed a large basket of food items in the coach.

  “Just where do you think you are going?” Helen’s angry voice pierced the morning stillness. She stood in the door still dressed in her nightclothes, her hands on her hips, looking more like a fisherman’s wife than a marchioness.

  Her bedchamber was in the back of the house. How the devil had she known what they were doing?

  “I knew I should have left from the mews,” Phinn murmured to his brother. They had been in the process of saying farewell when they’d heard her.

  “I’ll take care of this. You prepare to leave on my signal.” Dorchester walked back up the shallow steps to the house. “My love, what are you doing up so early?”

  “I was sick.” She waved her hand at Phinn. “What is he doing?”

  “Going to Lincolnshire for a few days.” Dorchester’s tone was as even as if he’d told the truth. “There is a problem there he must resolve.” He drew her into his arms. “You’ve never been sick before.”

  Before what? What had Dorchester not told me?

  “In the middle of the Season?” Helen glared at Phinn.

  He debated lying to her and decided he was better off remaining silent.

  “I will see you later.” Dorchester made a shooing motion, and Phinn signaled the coachman to start as he climbed into the carriage. His brother looked back at Helen. “Come inside. You do not need to be here if you are feeling poorly.”

  The coach rumbled down the streets and out of the square.

  Phinn placed his hat on the rack above him. “That was a narrow escape.”

  Boman gazed out the window. “When do you think he’ll tell her that you’re not, in fact, going to Lincolnshire?”

  “Not for a few days, I hope. It is doubtful she’d keep the news to herself. And I don’t want Lady Augusta to get wind of it.” Dorchester’s last words to Helen niggled. “What do you think it meant when my brother said she wasn’t usually ill?”

  “Her ladyship might be breeding,” Musson said as he leaned over and moved the basket farther under the seat.

  “Pregnant?” Phinn sat up straighter. “And neither of them mentioned a word.” He caught Boman’s eye. “Do you think the charms might be working?”

  “Could be.” He shrugged. “I don’t know much about ladies who are in a delicate condition.”

  “Charms?” Musson glanced between Phinn and his secretary.

  “On the way back from Mexico, I bought charms from a woman in Haiti that are supposed to . . . ah . . . encourage the birth of a boy.”

  “If you do not mind, my lord,” Musson said gravely, “I shall add my prayers to your charms.”

  Boman’s shoulders shook, and Phinn grinned. “Not at all. We need all the help we can get.”

  With each mile they put between themselves and London, the mood in the coach seemed to lighten. Phinn hadn’t realized how constrained he’d felt attending ton entertainments and being trotted out for inspection. He now had a much better understanding of how the young ladies must feel. In fact, the only times he’d actually been able to be himself were around Augusta. With her he could discuss the things that he liked and not have a lady’s eyes widen in ignorance or panic. He wasn’t puffed up enough to think it was awe. He wasn’t a peer and prayed he never would be. As far as anyone outside of the family knew—and Helen had been told in no uncertain terms never to mention it—he only had a younger son’s meager independence. Ergo, the only reason a lady would find him desirable was to produce the next heir of Dorchester.

  He was much better off leaving Town . . . and following Augusta no matter where she traveled. Not only didn’t she care if she gave birth to the next Marquis of Dorchester, she did not want children right away. Although, if Helen didn’t have a son, that could prove to be a problem. Phinn wondered if he would have to wait either until Augusta had achieved her aspirations, or his sister-in-law had given birth to an heir, before she would agree to marry him.

  The carriage slowed to nurse the team. As Phinn would be unable to change horses in France, his brother had insisted he purchase six heavy coach horses, making it easier on the beasts as well as him.

  The grooms and coachmen were all former Light Dragoons who thought going back to France without being shot at would be just the thing they were looking for. Dorchester had been quick to donate the extra weapons Phinn needed for the new servants. Now that he thought about it, ever since he’d confessed to his lust for Augusta, his brother had done a great deal to help him make his escape from Town.

  Twelve hours after they left Grosvenor Square they arrived at the Ship in Dover. “I hope they have rooms for us,” Phinn said as he jumped down from the coach. He a
nd his secretary had stayed there when they’d first returned from Mexico. “I could use a soft bed and a good meal.”

  “I sent an express to them yesterday.” Boman was next out of the coach. “While you’re seeing to the rooms, I’ll find the captain, and the Catherine.”

  “My lord.” Musson exited the carriage more nimbly than Phinn had expected him to. “I shall accompany you and ensure the rooms are satisfactory.”

  “As you will, Musson.” Phinn and Boman exchanged a smile. “My consequence will be much higher with you in charge.”

  “Indeed, my lord.” Phinn’s valet entered the inn.

  Fortunately, the clerk had received the letter, and had their chambers available. Musson busied himself putting the rooms in order, while Phinn wandered into the bar and ordered an ale.

  He had just drained his mug when Boman returned with a gentleman around the same age as he and Phinn. “My lord, this is Captain Rodgers, late of His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Captain.” Phinn held out his hand. “When do we sail?”

  A grin cracked the captain’s weather-beaten face. “Either within the next two hours or at four in the morning.”

  The promise of a comfortable bed and a good meal warred with his wish to arrive in France as soon as possible. They were all tired from the long drive, and he didn’t know if any of his servants suffered from mal de mer. “Let’s make it in the morning. I take it you will want to load the horses and coach this evening?”

  “Yes, my lord. We can’t do that in the dark.”

  Poor beasts. Phinn hoped they’d be able to rest on the ship. He glanced at his secretary. “We need to find the hacks.”

  “They’re at the inn’s stables,” Boman said. “I’ll get everyone together and meet you at the ship.”

  As it turned out, only one of their party suffered from seasickness. John Coachman, as he asked to be called, pointed to the groom, Freeman. “Sick on every passage we ever took. No need to worry about ’im, me lord. He just takes to ’is bunk and he’s fine.” The coachman puckered his brow. “Only problem is, ’e can’t get up without casting up his accounts. Least not for a few days. Fair useless, ’e is.”