"Slow-witted." Claudia was shocked. "Surely you cannot be talking about Graystone? He is very intelligent and very scholarly. Everyone knows that."
Augusta waved a hand with airy dismissal. "Most certainly he is intelligent enough when it comes to knowing the odd historical fact such as the date of the Battle of Actium. But I must tell you it is no great task to let a husband go on believing he is in command of the household whilst one goes about organizing things precisely as one wishes. Does that not imply they are a bit slow in some respects?"
"You may have a point. Now that I consider the matter, I must admit I have always known one could manage Father in that fashion. He is always so preoccupied with his studies, he pays no attention to household matters. Yet he believes himself to be in command."
"I rather think we can say the tendency is a common trait of men in general. And I have come to the conclusion that women do not disabuse their men of the notion because men appear to be more accommodating when they believe themselves to be in charge of even small matters."
"Quite a fascinating observation, Augusta."
"Yes, it is, is it not?" Augusta was warming to her topic now. "Another trait I have discovered in husbands is that they have a rather limited notion of what constitutes proper female behavior. They tend to worry excessively about the cut of a neckline or whether one has gone riding without a groom or how much one has spent on even bare essentials such as new bonnets."
"Augusta—"
"Furthermore, I would advise any female considering marriage to give careful thought to the matter of another common masculine characteristic I have discovered. That is their inclination to be astonishingly stubborn once they have formed an opinion. And that is another thing: Men are never loath to form opinions very quickly. Then one must—"
"Uh, Augusta—"
Augusta ignored the interruption. "Then one must set about the annoying business of getting them to see reason. Do you know, Claudia, were I to be in a position of advising a woman on what to look for in a husband, I would ask her to consider the qualities she would look for were she to be in the mood to purchase a horse, instead."
"Augusta."
Augusta held up her gloved hand and began to enumerate crisply. "Look for good blood, strong teeth, and sound limbs. Avoid the creature that shows any inclination to kick or bite. Pass up one which exhibits a tendency toward laziness. Avoid the beast which displays excessive stubbornness. Some thickheadedness is unavoidable and no doubt to be expected, but too much probably indicates genuine stupidity. In short, search out a willing specimen who is amenable to training."
Claudia clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes brimming with something that might have been either shock or laughter. "Augusta, for heaven's sake, look behind you."
An ominous sense of impending disaster settled on Augusta. She turned slowly around and saw Harry and Peter Sheldrake standing less than five feet away from her. Peter appeared to be having a great deal of difficulty swallowing his amusement.
Harry, one hand braced negligently against a tree limb, wore an expression of polite curiosity. There was, however, a suspicious glint in his eyes.
"Good evening, my dear," Harry said softly. "Please feel free to carry on. Do not let us interrupt your conversation with your cousin."
"Not at all," Augusta said with an aplomb she felt would have done credit to Cleopatra greeting Caesar. "We were just conversing about the qualities one looks for in a good horse, were we not, Claudia?"
"Yes," Claudia agreed quickly. "Horses. We were talking about horses. Augusta has become quite an authority on the subject. She was telling me the most fascinating details about managing them."
Harry nodded. "Augusta never ceases to amaze me with the breadth and scope of her knowledge about the most unusual subjects." He extended his arm to his wife. "I understand they are just about to play a waltz, madam. I trust you will honor me with a dance?"
It was a command, not a request, and Augusta had no difficulty recognizing it as such. Wordlessly she tucked her hand under Harry's arm and allowed him to lead her back into the house.
15
"Forgive me, my dear, but I had no idea you were such an expert on horses." Harry fitted his hand to the small of Augusta's back and swung her into the waltz.
It occurred to him in a flash of insight that she came to him here on the dance floor with the same sweet, willing sensuality that she displayed when she came to him in bed. She was light and graceful and enticingly feminine here, just as she was in the bedchamber. And he experienced a surge of desire that was very much akin to the feeling he got when he saw her lying against white pillows with her hair loose and her eyes full of womanly welcome.
Harry suddenly realized that until lately he had never particularly enjoyed dancing. It had simply been one more necessary accomplishment a man was obliged to learn in order to go about in society. But with Augusta, it was different.
So much was different with Augusta.
"Harry, you are a beast to tease me. How much did you overhear?" Augusta looked up at him through her lashes, a deep rosy blush staining her cheeks. The lights of the chandelier danced on her pretty paste necklace.
"A great deal, and all of it most interesting. Are you perhaps intending to write a book on the subject of managing a husband?" Harry inquired.
"I only wish I had a talent for writing," she grumbled. "Everyone else around me appears to be producing a manuscript of some sort. Only think of how practical a book on husband management would be, Harry."
"I do not doubt the practicality of your subject, madam, but I have serious reservations about your qualifications for writing about it."
The gleam of rebellion shone immediately in her lovely eyes. "I would have you know, sir, that I have learned a great deal in the course of the few weeks we have been married."
"Not nearly enough to write a book," Harry told her in his most pedantic tone. "No, not nearly enough. Judging from what I overheard, there are several glaring errors in your theories and vast confusion in your logic. But never fear, it will be my pleasure to continue your instruction until such time as you have got it right, even if it takes years and years of effort on my part."
She stared up at him, clearly uncertain how to take his outrageous comment. And then, to Harry's surprise, she tipped back her head and laughed with delight. "That is most gracious of you, my lord. I vow, few other teachers would have such patience with their students."
"Ah, my sweet, I am a very patient man. About most things." Pleasure shot through him and his hand tightened against the small of her back. He wished he could drag her upstairs to the bedchamber right now, this very minute. He longed to turn the laughter into passion and then change it back again.
"Speaking of educators," Augusta said, catching her breath as Harry drew her into a particularly daring whirl, "have you noticed how well your aunt is getting along with my uncle? They have been inseparable since they met."
Harry glanced across the room to where Clarissa, resplendent in a claret-red gown and a matching toque, was once more holding forth on the subject of teaching history to young ladies. Sir Thomas was listening intently and nodded appreciatively. Harry thought the gleam in the older man's eyes had a distinctly nonacademic sparkle.
"I do believe you have managed to unite two kindred spirits, my dear," Harry said, smiling down at Augusta.
"Yes, I rather thought they would suit each other. Now, if only my other little project will come to fruition, I shall be quite satisfied with this house party."
"Other little project? What else are you working on, madam?"