Believe in Me Page 4

  It was, indeed. Jones had trained as a jockey until he grew too large. She walked around the equipage. “I think we need to go for a ride.” Augusta glanced at her brother. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “Don’t I just!” Walter almost did a jig.

  “Durant, please walk them while I change.” She strode to the house as quickly as she could, just stopping herself from running up the stairs.

  “Gobert,” Augusta called as she entered her bedchamber. “I need a carriage gown.”

  “It’s out, my lady. Durant told me your mother and stepfather bought you a carriage.”

  Her new blue carriage gown with darker blue piping lay upon the bed. In no time at all she was dressed and donning her bonnet.

  “Have a good time, my lady.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Less than two minutes later, she was seated, threading the ribbons through her fingers.

  Walter pointed to the top of the town house. “All the children are looking. You’ll have to give them rides later.”

  Augusta waved at her younger brothers and sisters. “Yes, after their lessons.” She would make them draw numbers from a bowl. It was not fair to go by age. The youngest was always last. “Let’s go around the Park, then we can drive to Grosvenor Square and show our sisters and Dotty my new carriage.”

  They entered through Grosvenor Gate near a row of chestnut trees that were just furling their leaves. Large trees also lined the Circle and Rotten Row. It was not long before Augusta saw Lady Dorie, one of the ladies she had met last evening, riding a bay gelding and followed by her groom.

  She saw Augusta immediately and trotted over. “Good morning. It is good to see I am not the only lady who enjoys early outings. I find it settles me for the rest of the day.”

  “In my house it is not unusual.” Her sister used to ride just after dawn. “I’d like to introduce my brother by marriage: Mr. Carpenter. Walter, Lady Dorie Calthorp.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Carpenter.” Suddenly a look of recognition appeared on Dorie’s face. “I believe you have met my youngest brother, Harold.”

  “I have.” Walter nodded. “I should have made the connection right away. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” She turned to Augusta. “He helped poor Harold out of a fix. I will be forever grateful.” Dorie’s gaze shifted to the phaeton. “That is a beautiful carriage. Do you know who made it?”

  “I have not the slightest idea. If you wish to know I could ask my stepfather.” Augusta grinned. “It was waiting for me after breakfast. Walter tells me that it is not as high as the usual high-perched phaeton. I suspect my mother had something to do with the change in design.”

  “But, what a lovely surprise.” Dorie walked her horse around the carriage. “Your stepfather has excellent taste in cattle.”

  “Oh, I am extremely pleased with them.” Even though Augusta had a strong suspicion the rig and horses were meant to make her wish to remain in England, she could still enjoy them while she was here.

  They moved along the carriage path together, but before long, Dorie said, “I’ll leave you to it. I still have some fidgets I need to run out. If you would like, I shall contact the others, and we can join the Promenade this afternoon.” She pulled a face. “We will most likely have to walk.”

  “I think that is probable.” Augusta laughed. “Although, my sister-in-law has a huge landau we could take. She had it built so it was large enough for all the children.”

  “Very well.” Dorie shuddered. “You have convinced me that strolling is not so bad. I shall see you later today.”

  Once she’d ridden off, Augusta glanced at Walter. She had missed him terribly when he’d gone off to school. “Why did I not know you had met her brother? I’ve never heard you mention a Harold.”

  “But you have heard Phillip mention Harry. He is actually more of his friend than mine, but I look out for them both.”

  Phillip Carpenter was their youngest brother who had started at Eton last year. “Speaking of that, what did you do?”

  “Some of the older boys were picking on Phillip and Harry.” Walter shrugged. “It’s a rite of passage of sorts. I was with two chums and happened to see what was going on. We interceded. It did not occur again.”

  Interceded. A word used around ladies for the pummeling the miscreants had received. Grace had been none too happy when Matt had given the boys boxing lessons. Apparently, he had known what he was about. “I’m glad you were there to help.”

  “It’s what one does.” Walter shrugged again. He seemed uncomfortable speaking about the incident. “Charlie did the same for me.”

  That was not surprising. Charlie took care of everyone. She was glad Matt and Charlie, and now Walter, were there as examples of how a gentleman should act.

  Augusta turned back to the horses. Although they were so perfectly behaved, they practically needed no direction at all. Once they reached the gate, she drove to Grosvenor’s Square, pulling up in front of Rothwell House.

  Two footmen ran out. One went to the horses’ heads and the other came to help her down. “My lady, her Grace is in the square.”

  “Thank you. We shall find her.”

  “Just look for—”

  “Yes, I know. A huge group of people.”

  “Just so, my lady.”

  Walter came around and held out his arm. “It will be fun to see how much our nieces and nephews have grown.”

  “In less than a week?” The moment each of her sisters and Dotty had arrived in Town they’d come to Worthington House with the children.

  It did not take long at all to spot them. Louisa, Charlotte, and Dotty were sitting on a blanket with the children—four in total—and were surrounded by nursery maids, footmen, three Great Danes, Abby, Althea, and Millie and three Chartreux cats, Chloe, Collette and Cyril. The dogs were following the children as they toddled around. Charlotte’s son, little Hugo, Earl of Reith, had apparently gone too far from the group and was being herded back by Charlotte’s Great Dane, Abby. A nursemaid had picked up Constance, Hugo’s twin sister. The other two dogs were performing similar guard duties for Dotty’s and Louisa’s children.

  “Goodness, what a menagerie.” Augusta laughed as her sisters and Dotty rose to greet her. “The Great Danes I expected to see, but the cats are a surprise.”

  “What are you doing out in the middle of the square?” Walter asked, as he stroked one of the cats. “I expected to find you walking.”

  “It was not planned.” Louisa bounced her daughter Alexandria. “I came out with Alexandria. Naturally, Millie could not be separated from her. Then Chloe decided she wanted to be with me. Charlotte was already here, then Dotty joined us.”

  Not far away, a familiar-looking lady was accompanied by four children; one of them looked to be about the same age as Augusta’s two-year-old nieces and nephew. “Is that Lady Dorchester?”

  Charlotte glanced in the direction Augusta was looking. “Yes, but who is the gentleman with her?”

  A few moments later, Lady Dorchester presented her brother-in-law, Lord Phineas Carter-Woods, and four little girls. His lordship gave Augusta a sharp gray-eyed look when they were introduced, but said only what was proper, and exhibited no notice in her at all after that.

  His build—tall, with broad shoulders—reminded her of Matt and her sisters’ husbands. His hair was much shorter than the current fashion. If Lady Dorchester was trying to marry him off—after all, she had not yet had a son—she would probably not have too much trouble. He was very handsome, in a rugged sort of way. Still, she would have to send him to a tailor. The shabby clothing he wore was not a good recommendation.

  “My uncle just came back from Mexico,” Emma, the oldest one offered.

  Anne held up a brightly clothed cloth doll. “He brought us dolls.”

  Mexico? Augusta glanced at Lord Phineas again. He was browner than anyone else. His color must have been caused by the sun while on bo
ard the ship. Well, of course it was. Weeks exposed to the elements would roughen anyone’s skin.

  Not for the first time, Augusta wished she could travel. Yet, she’d be lucky to be able to attend university in Italy. Still, this was an opportunity to discover more about the Aztecs and their language. If his lordship had been interested enough to learn any of it. “Did you happen to learn Nahuatl while you were there?”

  Chapter Five

  That was the last question Phinn expected to receive from a young lady. His jaw began to drop and he clamped it shut.

  Nahuatl?

  What business did a gently bred English female have knowing anything about Aztec language? This must be the well-read young female he’d heard Helen talking about.

  “I did. It was necessary to speak the language in order to discover the information I wished to know about their buildings.” The young lady’s—what the devil was her name?—eyes shone like the sun behind stained glass windows. What an amazing color they were. Just like lapis. “Did you know that some of the Aztec language has seeped into English?”

  “Yes, tomato and chocolate are examples.” She looked at him as though he was an idiot. “I am able to keep up with the language by reading the Aztec poetry, but I have not had an opportunity to speak it lately. I believe it is important to continue to practice a language in order not to lose it.”

  Well-read she might be, but there was no way she could have learned Nahuatl. It was time to give her a bit of a set-down for exaggerating her skills. Speaking in Nahuatl he said, “God give me strength.”

  “Only you have the power to change,” she shot back in the same language.

  Good God! She really did speak it. “How did you learn Nahuatl?”

  A smug smile hovered for a moment on her lips. “Mr. John Marsden taught me.” Her words were clipped and cool. “He was visiting our local vicar last year.”

  “In that case, you know as much of the Aztec language as anyone in the country and most of Europe know.”

  She inclined her head graciously, and murmured in Nahuatl, “You are not a navel after all.”

  Phinn couldn’t help but to laugh at her reference. Nahuatl was nothing if not descriptive.“I do try not to be a waste of space.” Lady Augusta. That’s what her name was! “I would be happy to speak with you at your convenience.”

  Again she gazed at him, but this time it was clear she was wondering if he was serious. He’d probably sounded like a condescending coxcomb before. “Thank you. I shall hold you to your offer.”

  Someone heaved a sigh, and he noticed the young man introduced as Walter Carpenter. “You should know, sir, that my sister speaks and reads at least seven modern languages, some ancient languages, and reads a few others.” He gave Phinn a steady look. “I wouldn’t underestimate her if I were you.”

  “Indeed.” Phinn gave a short nod. “I believe she has already taught me that lesson.” Wishing to resume his conversation with her, he glanced at Lady Augusta, but she was speaking with the duchess, who looked very much like her, and pointing to Rothwell House. In front of the house stood a high-perched phaeton and two of the sweetest goers he’d ever seen.

  “It’s beautiful, Augusta!” the duchess exclaimed. The rest of the ladies rose and allowed the nursemaids to take charge of the toddlers.

  “You will look like a fairy-tale princess when you drive them,” Emma opined.

  Phinn trailed after the ladies and small children—who were clearly intent on inspecting the pair and attached equipage.

  Helen placed her hand on his arm, holding him back. “What did you think of Lady Augusta?”

  “I found her frighteningly intelligent.” And beautiful. He’d like to see her dressed in the short piece of embroidered cloth most of the Aztec ladies wore. “Did you plan this rendezvous?”

  “Not really. I saw Lady Augusta drive by and stop at Rothwell House. I knew the duchess and other ladies were out here with their children, and decided it would be the perfect time for you to meet her.” They had almost joined the rest of the group. “Is she too intelligent for you?”

  “Not at all.” She was too bright for Polite Society, and it was a pity she would not have an outlet for her clever mind. “In fact, she is a possibility.” That ought to keep Helen from further matchmaking.

  He joined the others in admiring the carriage and horses. The phaeton was well made and as sturdy as one could make a sporting carriage. The horses must have set someone back several guineas. Listening to the conversation, he learned that the duchess and both her friends drove as well.

  Lady Augusta had just finished giving the pair carrots, when the duchess’s little one began to fuss. The large Great Dane who had accompanied the child licked her cheek, then glanced at the duchess reproachfully.

  “I must take Alexandria in. It is time for her nap.”

  Lady Augusta hugged her sister, then went around to the street side of the carriage, where her brother waited to help her up. If it had been a footman, Phinn might have assumed the duty. Still, he had to give Helen her due. Lady Augusta was turning out to be a fascinating female.

  He shook himself. The idea was not to be attracted to a lady. Not if he wanted to depart in a few weeks. Yet, he found himself watching as Lady Augusta expertly feathered the turn out of the square. What other talents did she have?

  His sister-in-law nudged him. “You should have asked for a dance at her come out ball.”

  “I forgot all about it.” Although, he might have remembered if he’d had any intention of doing so.

  “Well”—Helen huffed—“there is always Almack’s on Wednesday. You can ask one of the patronesses to give you permission to waltz with her.” A small smile touched her lips. “That is a way to any young lady’s goodwill.” She glanced behind her to where the children were walking with their nursemaids. “Yet, first Dorchester must take you to Weston. It is a shame you are so much broader in the shoulders than he is. Otherwise you could wear one of his jackets.”

  If his brother had done half the exercise Phinn had over the past three years, they would wear the same size jackets. “He has made an appointment for me at eleven o’clock this morning.”

  “In that case we had better hurry. It cannot be much before the hour.”

  He murmured his assent. No wonder his brother simply agreed with her. It was easier than the alternative.

  Shortly after returning home, Phinn and Dorchester were on their way to Weston’s.

  “I understand your new valet was hired this morning,” his brother said as they crossed into Bond Street. “I assume he will go through your clothing and make a list of the items you’ll need. Pickerell will, of course, give the man any help he requires.”

  “And I assume my new valet”—whoever he was—“will be experienced enough that he will not be forced to rely on Pickle’s help.”

  A pained expression crossed his brother’s countenance. “You would get on much better with him if you would stop calling him Pickle.”

  “He doesn’t approve of me and never has. I do not know how you tolerate him.”

  “Well, for one thing, I don’t insult him every time I open my mouth,” his brother retorted. They walked for a few moments in silence. “It’s this marriage business that has you upset.”

  That wasn’t helping. “You may be right. I feel as if there are more things I have to do before I wear a Parson’s Noose.”

  “If it makes you feel any better”—Dorchester slid a glance at Phinn—“I did not think I was ready to wed either. Then I met Helen. Father was discussing arranging a marriage, and I told him if he was set on marrying me off, he could talk to her father.”

  “I didn’t realize you and Helen were a love match.” Where had he been when his brother had met her? Oxford. He’d had another year before he finished his studies when Dorchester and Helen had married.

  His brother gave a gruff laugh. “It was more of a lust match. At least on my part. Fortunately, it all worked out.”

  Lust
match? What a strange way to put it. Though, Phinn supposed if one could have a love match, one could have a lust match. Yet it seemed to him a marriage based on mutual respect, friendship, and interests would be more productive than pure lust. Then again, passion must play some part in the process.

  The thought of Lady Augusta in an embroidered cloth slipped across his mind again.

  Hell and damnation! He had to get out of England and soon.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Augusta met with Dorie, Henrietta, Georgiana, and Adeline at Merton House in Grosvenor Square. The five of them, accompanied by two footmen and three maids, set off to the Park.

  “I think we need a plan for the Season,” Georgiana said. “We do not want to be taken unawares. Nor do we wish to become involved with gentlemen who seem eligible but are not.” She gave the rest of them a knowing look. “That happened to my sister, Meg, before she met Hawksworth.”

  “I am sure my brother will know who is a good choice and who is not,” Augusta said. Of course, Worthington might not be as concerned this year. She had said she was not going to wed. Yet she was sure Merton had requested Matt’s help with Henrietta. “I can always ask him.”

  “My brother, Huntley, said he intended to keep an eye on the gentlemen as well,” Dorie added. “He should have done a better job with Littleton.”

  “Who is Littleton?” Augusta asked.

  “No one of importance.” Dorie changed her scowl into a gay smile. “My, it is a beautiful day.”

  “I am glad I can count on the help of your relatives.” Adeline blew out a breath. “I am not sure my brother, Wivenly, will be of any assistance at all. Although, he is much better than he was before he married. I wish my father wasn’t so busy with the Lords.”

  Augusta and her friends reached the Park and began strolling along the verge next to the carriage path. The day was pleasantly warm for late March. Snowdrops and purple crocus had begun to poke their heads up in the grass. Buds had appeared on the trees. In another week or so they would all be in leaf. She wondered what Padua was like this time of year.