Page 114 of A Well-Trained Lady

“When I first arrived, I saw you out the window, embracing. And I overheard Ruth mention the wedding.”

Augustus nodded, denying nothing.

“So that is why I cannot stay. It seems the only thing I’m really good for is causing damage in my wake.”

“You do excel at it.” A smile warmed his face, and my heart sank further. It would not be for much longer that he could offer me such smiles. “May I show you something before you go?”

I glanced out at the late afternoon light, certain I should be on my way now that I would be required to seek lodging. But I did not wish to disappoint him again. A brief observation of whatever it was he wished to show me was the least I could do. “I suppose, if we are quick about it.”

He extended his arm to me and, with a shaky hand, I took hold of it.

“Are you two finished?” Ruth asked, as we stepped into the entry hall.

“Not quite.” Augustus led me forward, opening the front door. “We will be back shortly.”

All three women were smiling, and Augustus closed the door behind us.

We made our way to the back of the house and started toward the rose garden. Augustus walked so swiftly, I was barely managing to keep up with his long strides. “Forgive my haste. Are you managing well?” He led us through the back of the garden onto the small walking path we’d taken to the holloway.

“Yes. But could I ask where we are going?”

“Only a little further, I’m nearly certain of it.”

I tightened my grip on his arm. “You don’t know where we are going?”

“Not precisely.” He stopped at a crossing footpath and glanced side to side, then stilled.

“What—”

He placed a finger to his lips and listened, a smile lighting his handsome features that nearly drove me to madness. “This way.” He led me forward again, until the sound of voices could be heard somewhere in front of us.

“Candace,” Augustus called, and the voices stopped.

“Augustus?” Miss Whitmore’s voice sent a wave of shock through me, and I planted my feet, releasing Augustus’s arm.

Augustus reached a hand toward me. “Come, Bella.”

I recognized that mischievous glint in Augustus’s eyes instantly, the one that had always come before we got into trouble, and I shook my head.

“Augustus? What are you doing?” Miss Whitmore rounded the path and stopped mid-step when her gaze fell on me. Her lips parted. “Miss Godwin?”

I forced out a smile. “Miss Whitmore. I hope you are well?”

Her eyes flicked back to Augustus and his tiresome grin. “Very well. And you?”

I lifted my shoulders, powerless to explain how utterly out of sorts I was.

“Candace, what is it?” Another man’s voice immobilized me, and when he stepped into view, my jaw dropped. I glanced between Augustus and this man who looked bafflingly similar—the same sandy-colored hair, the build, even an equivalent amused smile on his lips.

He glanced from Miss Whitmore to Augustus before he took notice of me standing there gaping at him.

Augustus gestured toward me. “Owen, you remember Bella?”

Owen’s face lit with recognition. “Of course. How could I forget her with the way you babbled on about her for years?”

“Owen?” I whispered, still attempting to make sense of all this in my head. I looked back at Augustus. “This is your brother, Owen?”

Augustus took a step closer to me. “Yes. And Miss Whitmore’s fiancé.”