Page 64 of A Well-Trained Lady

Sarah giggled. “That does sound like something Augustus would do.”

“Yes, well, it worked—at least somewhat. I did not fancy myself in love with William, but I admit the thought of being in love intrigued me greatly at the time. And William was quite handsome, was he not, Ruth?”

Ruth bobbed her head up and down in agreement.

“So, what happened?” Sarah asked.

“Well, during this particular afternoon together, he would not stop bombarding me about my feelings for William. Asking me what I thought of his letters, and if I would ever consider marrying a pig man’s son.” A smile crept onto my lips at the memory. “His persistence drove me to near madness, and I finally marched right up to him and told him that the only reason he cared was because he was jealous of William. That he was obviously besotted with me but was too much of a coward to tell me so.”

Ruth covered her mouth. “That was exceptionally bold of you.”

“I don’t know what it is about Augustus, but he is the only one who can provoke me in such a way—get me to behave so out of character.” I paused, recalling the scene in my memory as I had done so many times. “But once it was said, he did not deny it. We just stood there staring at one another, uncertain what to do next.” I shook my head, amused at our clumsy attempt at first love. “Then, without warning, he pulled me in and kissed me.” Warmth settled in my cheeks. “It was perfect. Full of light and hope.”

Ruth evaluated me with a creased brow. “And that was the only time?”

“Yes.” I lowered my gaze. “The next time Augustus came to Blacksley …” The words caught in my throat. “Well, that was the day your parents died.”

“Well, perhaps it may not be your last.”

I dropped my shoulders, looking between Ruth and Sarah’s hopeful glances. “I fear with him it must be. But I shall always think fondly of our time in the woods. And his kiss.”

Both ladies released an audible sigh, and I couldn’t be certain that I did not join them without meaning to.

* * *

The days crawled by as we awaited Augustus’s return, and though I refused to admit to myself how desperately I missed him, my lessons were growing lackluster and laborious as a consequence of his continued absence. The most promising part of our week was visiting the modiste and having two gowns commissioned for Ruth—one in ivory silk and the other of gold colored tulle over white satin.

In a desperate attempt to keep my thoughts from dwelling on Augustus, I encouraged Mrs. Brundage to extend an invitation for the Whitmores to join us for the evening despite the improperly late notice. Yet dinner, with its false smiles and polite chatter, was hardly the relief I had hoped for, and when we entered the drawing room, I was exhausted.

Mr. Treynor stepped in behind me, and I smiled at him. “I do hope you are not put out by being the only gentleman among us this evening. I fear I had not thought of the consequence of our offer when I encouraged Mrs. Brundage to extend the invitation.”

“I consider myself fortunate to represent my sex amongst such a charming group of women.”

“Speaking of charming women,” I said, lifting my chin in Ruth’s direction. “Does Ruth not look stunning in that color? Lilac is most becoming on her.”

Mr. Treynor followed my line of sight. “I daresay you are right. Lilac suits her perfectly.”

“She mentioned that she was eager to speak with you. Something about Arabian horses.”

His face colored to its familiar shade of red. “Is that so?”

“It seems you have inspired her. She has spent countless hours reading about thoroughbreds these past few days, and I’m certain she has many questions.” I refrained from mentioning it was at my recommendation that she did so.

His regard moved to Ruth again, a look of determination on his face. “If you would excuse me then, Miss Godwin.”

“Of course.” I watched Ruth’s face brighten as Mr. Treynor approached her.

“They would make a lovely match.” Miss Whitmore stepped to my side, her consideration on the delighted couple.

I nodded in agreement. “But whatever the outcome, it is good to see Ruth gain confidence in her abilities. She has so very much to offer, but unlike most ladies I’m acquainted with, she does not realize it.” I kept my gaze on Ruth. “I believe it’s part of her charm. What say you?”

Miss Whitmore paused and tilted her head to the side. “I find her modesty most endearing, and it is quite apparent my cousin believes it to be as well.”

We both laughed, and, in that moment, I wondered if Miss Whitmore and I could be friends—real, authentic friends—unlike the friends I kept in Town.

“I heard what you are doing for Ruth and Sarah,” Miss Whitmore said with a kind smile. “It is good of you.”

Not trusting myself to ask how she had known of it, I simply gave a nod of acceptance.