Page 77 of A Well-Trained Lady

“Augustus.” The firmness in Mrs. Brundage’s voice forced his attention from me, and when his gaze settled on my mother’s hateful scowl, his body went rigid. “You recall Lady Godwin?” Mrs. Brundage said, her voice entreating him to collect himself.

He blinked. “Yes, of course.” He lowered his arms to offer a tight bow.

“How much you’ve grown,” Mother said, and I wondered if everyone could perceive the hint of abhorrence in her tone as well as I could. “May I present The Dowager Countess of Thorton, and her son, The Earl of Thorton.” She gestured with a rigid arm toward Augustus. “This is Mr. Brundage. An old friend of our family.”

Lady Thorton and her son offered a partial nod, and Augustus gave another taut bow in return. “Pleasure. I hope you were not waiting on us long.”

“Nearly an hour,” Lady Thorton said, evidently unamused, unlike her son.

“Oh, Mother.” Lord Thorton offered one of his contagious grins. “You act as though keeping my company is an intolerable affair, indeed.” He looked at me. “I have not been home three days, and she has already grown weary of my company.”

I forced my lips into some sort of smile, but Lady Thorton seemed to find little humor in his words. “It is not you I have grown weary of, dear, but this hunt we have endured to locate Miss Godwin.” As Lady Thorton released an agitated breath, I felt Augustus’s gaze upon me, but I could not meet it. “With guests set to arrive in the next few days, I hardly had time for such an undertaking.”

My lips parted to offer some sort of an explanation, but I could not coax out a sound.

“Well, we shall not delay our removal a moment longer than is necessary.” Mother started toward me with purpose. She stepped between Augustus and me, her hand coming to my back, pushing me toward the stairs. “Let us go see if your trunks are readied, Arabella.”

With no other choice, I climbed the stairs at her side.

Mother’s glare burned into my profile, and I knew she was waiting until we were out of earshot to attack. “You foolish girl,” she whispered when we started our way down the corridor. “You very well may have ruined any hope of a match between you and Lord Thorton. I don’t know how we shall ever right this wrong.”

“Then let us not attempt it.” I did not have the courage to look at her. “I want to remain here at Fairhaven … with Augustus.”

Mother’s sharp fingers clasped my arm, spinning me toward her. “You fancy yourself in love with Augustus, do you?”

I met her stare, attempting not to cower under the force of it. “I do not fancy myself in love. I am in love, and he loves me, also.”

Mother’s eyes moved between mine before her grip on my arm suddenly lessened. “Oh, Arabella.” She shook her head. “Which you is he in love with?”

I swallowed, knowing too well her meaning.

Mother’s gaze flitted to my unruly hair. “You have allowed Mr. Brundage to think you are still the girl he once knew so long ago, haven’t you?”

Despite the quivering, I lifted my chin.

“No. You are even more foolish than that. You have come to believe your own deceit.” Mother leaned in close, the sweet scent of rose water overpowering my senses. “Have you forgotten what it has taken to become a diamond of society? What aspects of your prior self you were forced to sacrifice?” Her head shifted to one side as she appraised me. “I wonder what Mr. Brundage would think of you after witnessing your talent for bringing a lady to tears with one well-placed comment. Or the tactics you have implemented to get men to fall madly in love with you, to offer you everything—including their hearts—before you decide you don’t want them?”

I stilled, imagining Augustus’s expression when he discovered who I really was. The admiration he thought he had for me would turn to disappointment … to embitterment. It was as if he was standing next to me, so real it felt, and I watched as the love faded from his eyes. My head spun, and I felt I might be sick. He could not love me once he knew the truth. He had only continued loving me because he was unaware of the woman I’d become. The woman who had manipulated him with each interaction. With each smile. And with each touch. I nearly crumpled under the weight of the guilt.

“Ah.” A knowing smirk grew on Mother’s lips. “Mr. Brundage has been a recipient of those perfected techniques, it appears. No wonder he has been led to believe he feels more for you than he truly does.”

A tear escaped down my cheek, and I swiped at it.

Mother lowered her hand until it settled over mine. “Someone like Augustus Brundage deserves a woman who is genuine and sincere, who is capable of loving him without deception. One who is capable of obtaining his love without counterfeit.”

A woman who would willingly give anything to see him happy.

My thoughts went to Miss Whitmore and her goodness. Augustus did deserve a lady like her. One who was selfless, and kind, and authentic. One who did not lie to him because the truth was too difficult to speak. My heart broke when I finally embraced the truth I’d been ignoring all along. Augustus should not love someone like me. More tears rolled down my cheeks.

Mother lifted both hands to my face, her thumbs dispersing the evidence of my wrongdoing. “And you, Arabella, deserve a man who can give you the life you are accustomed to. A life of privilege and respect. You are set to be a lady of distinction, not a lady forced from Society because of an ill-suited marriage.” She paused. “Do not throw away everything you have worked so hard to achieve for someone who is ignorant to who you truly are. Someone who would be heartbroken to discover the truth. For there is no undoing what you have done.”

She was right. After too long allowing my heart to lead me amiss, I compelled my mind to resume its rightful place. A shaky breath escaped me. “I was a fool, Mother. But I will right this.”

“Of course you will.” Mother’s posture relaxed a touch, but then she lifted a finger to point at me. “And do not think you have freed yourself from explaining how this whole debacle occurred. If we had more time and my nerves were not already spent, I’d pull it from you now. As it stands, I will first write to your father for his account. I’m certain he had something to do with this. Cursed man.”

“It was—”

“And do not take the blame for him. You are crafty, but not so much so that you could accomplish this without your father’s knowledge.” Mother placed an arm behind me, pushing me forward again.