"I wondered when you would show up tonight, my lord," Augusta said. "Have you made the acquaintance of Lord Lovejoy?"
"We've met." Harry nodded brusquely at the other man. He did not like the slyly amused expression in Lovejoy's race. Nor did he care for the way the man was standing so close to Augusta.
"Yes, of course. Belong to some of the same clubs, don't we, Graystone?" Lovejoy turned to Augusta and caught her gloved hand in a gallant gesture. "I suppose I must relinquish you to your future lord and master, my dear," he said as he brought her fingers to his lips. "I realize now that all is lost as far as I am concerned. I can only hope that you will feel some pity in your heart for the devastating blow you have delivered to me by getting yourself engaged to Graystone, here."
"I am sure you will recover quickly, sir." Augusta retrieved her fingers and dismissed Lovejoy with a smile. She turned to Harry as the baron disappeared into the crowd.
Her eyes held a certain challenging glitter and she looked flushed. It struck Harry that Augusta had had that oddly heightened color in her face on each of the two short occasions he had seen her since the engagement had been announced.
He thought he knew the reason for the blush. Every time Augusta looked at him she was obviously remembering their midnight rendezvous when she had wound up lying in his arms on the floor of his library. It was clear that Miss Ballinger, in spite of being descended of the Northumberland branch of the family, was horribly embarrassed by the memory. It was a good sign, Harry decided. It indicated the lady had some notion of propriety, after all.
"Are you too warm, Augusta?" Harry asked with polite concern.
She shook her head quickly. "No, no, I am fine, my lord. Now, then, have you come over here to ask me to dance, sir? Or to lecture me on some fine point of behavior?"
"The latter." Harry took her hand and led her out through the open windows into the garden.
"I was afraid of that." Augusta toyed with her fan as they crossed the terrace. Then she snapped it closed. "I have been doing a great deal of thinking, my lord."
"So have I." Harry drew her to a halt near a stone bench. "Sit down, my dear. I believe we should talk."
"Oh, dear. I knew it would be like this. I just knew it." She scowled up at him as she sank gracefully down onto the bench. "My lord, this is never going to work out. We may as well face it and be done with it."
"What is never going to work out?" Harry put one booted foot on the end of the bench and rested an elbow on his knee. He studied Augusta's earnest face as she confronted him in the shadows. "Are you referring to our engagement, by any chance?"
"I most certainly am. I have been going over this matter again and again and I cannot help but believe you truly are making a grave mistake. I want you to know that I am extremely honored by your offer, but I really feel that for both our sakes it would be best if I cried off."
"I would rather you did not do that, Augusta," Harry said.
"But, my lord, surely now that you have had time to consider the matter you see that an alliance between us simply will not work."
"I think it can be made to work."
Augusta 's mouth tightened. She leaped to her feet. "What you mean, sir, is that you think you can force me to conform to your notions of proper female behavior."
"Do not put words in my mouth, Augusta." Harry took her arm and forced her gently back down onto the bench. "What I meant was that I think that, with a little adjustment here and there, we shall deal very well together."
"And which one of us do you envision making the adjustments, my lord?"
Harry sighed and directed his gaze thoughtfully toward the massive hedge behind Augusta. "Both of us will no doubt make the slight changes that are required by marriage."
"I see. Let us try being more specific here. Just what particular modifications do you see me having to make, sir?"
"To begin with, I think it would be best if you did not dance the waltz with Lovejoy again. There is something I do not quite like about that man. And I noticed tonight that he has begun paying you a great deal of attention."
"How dare you, sir." Augusta shot to her feet again, incensed. "I shall dance the waltz with whomever I wish and you may as well know right now that I would never allow my husband or any other man to dictate my choice of dancing partners. I am sorry if that sort of behavior is too unrefined for your taste, sir, but I vow it is only a hint of the sort of impropriety of which I am capable."
"I see. I am, of course, deeply alarmed to hear this."
"Are you laughing at me, Graystone?" Augusta's eyes blazed with fury.
"No, my dear, I am not. Sit down, if you please."
"It does not please me in the least. I have no intention of sitting down. I am going straight back into that ballroom, find my cousin, and go home. And when I get there, I intend to tell my uncle that I am ending the engagement immediately."
"You cannot do that, Augusta."
"Why not, pray tell?"
Harry took her arm again and once more gently but firmly urged her down onto the stone bench. "Because I believe you to be an honorable young woman, in spite of your hotheaded nature. A woman who would not, under any circumstances, bestow certain favors upon a man and then jilt him."
"Certain favors?" Augusta's eyes widened in shock. "What are you talking about?"
It was time, Harry decided, for a few gentle threats, perhaps even a spot of blackmail. Augusta needed to be prodded in the appropriate direction. She was obviously resisting the notion of marriage. "I think you know the answer to that. Or have you conveniently forgotten what transpired on the floor of my library two nights ago?"
"The floor of your library. Good grief." Augusta sat frozen on the bench, staring at him. "My lord, you cannot possibly mean that simply because I allowed you to kiss me that I am therefore honor bound to remain engaged to you."
"We enjoyed considerably more than a kiss, Augusta, and I think you are well aware of that."
"Yes, well, I admit things went a trifle too far." She began to look desperate.
"A trifle? You were half undressed before it was over," Harry reminded her with calculated ruthlessness. "And if the clock had not struck when it did, I fear we would have gone very far indeed. I know you pride yourself on your modern ways, Augusta, but surely you are not cruel."
"Cruel? There was nothing cruel about it," she snapped. "Not on my part, at any rate. You took advantage of me, sir."
Harry shrugged. "I believed us to be engaged. Your uncle had accepted my offer and you were paying me a visit in the middle of the night. What was I to think? Some would say you invited my attentions and were more than generous with your favors."
"I don't believe this. The entire sequence of events is getting muddled. Once and for all, I did not bestow any favors on you, Graystone."
"You underestimate yourself, my dear." He smiled whimsically. "I considered them very great favors indeed. I shall never forget the feel of your lovely breast cupped in my hand. Soft and firm and full. And it was crowned with a perfect rosebud that flowered beneath my fingers."
Augusta gave a horrified squeak of dismay. "My lord."
"Do you really believe I could forget the elegant form of your thighs?" Harry continued, well aware of what this intimate recitation was doing to Augusta's composure. He told himself it was past time the lady received a sharp lesson. "Round and finely shaped like those on a Grecian statue. I will treasure forever the great privilege you allowed me when you let me touch your beautiful thighs, my sweet."
"But I did not allow you to touch them," Augusta protested. "You just went ahead and did it."