Peter Sheldrake swore calmly and stepped out of the bushes, his arm still wrapped firmly around a furiously blushing Claudia. Claudia was frantically struggling to push the tiny sleeve of her blue gown back up onto her shoulder.
"I do believe that is my glove you have found, Graystone." Sheldrake held out his hand with a rueful Smile.
"I rather thought so." Harry handed over the glove.
"You may as well be the first to know," Sheldrake said easily, his eyes on Claudia's embarrassed face as he put on his glove. "Miss Ballinger has just consented to become engaged to me. I shall be speaking to her father before we leave for London in the morning."
Augusta shrieked with delight and threw her arms around her cousin. "Oh, Claudia, how wonderful."
"Thank you," Claudia managed, still struggling to straighten her sleeve. "I only hope Papa will approve."
"Of course he will." Augusta stepped back, smiling with supreme satisfaction. "I know Mr. Sheldrake will be perfect for you. I have been certain of it all along."
Harry stared at her and suddenly remembered something she had said earlier during the waltz. "Was this the second project you mentioned, my dear?"
"Yes, of course. I knew Mr. Sheldrake and Claudia would do famously together. And only think how practical the marriage is from my cousin's point of view, sir."
"Practical?" Harry's brow rose inquiringly.
"Certainly." Augusta smiled a bit too sweetly. "Claudia will be gaining not only an extremely handsome and gallant husband, but a highly trained butler, too."
There was a frozen instant of silence and then Harry heard Sheldrake groan as realization sunk in. Harry shook his head in rueful acknowledgment of his wife's perceptive qualities.
"I congratulate you, my dear," he said dryly. "Sheldrake, here, has fooled a great many observant people with that butler role."
Claudia's eyes widened. "Scruggs." She whirled around and confronted her intended. "You are Scruggs at Pompeia's. I knew I recognized you from somewhere. How dare you fool me like that, Peter Sheldrake! Of all the conniving, underhanded tricks. You should be ashamed of yourself, sir."
Peter winced and shot Augusta a sour look. "Now, Claudia, my dear, I was only playing the part of Scruggs in order to help out an old friend."
"You could have told me who you were. Why, when I think of all the times you were rude to me as Scruggs, I could throttle you." Claudia drew herself up proudly. "Let me tell you, sir, I am not at all certain I wish to remain engaged to such an ill-mannered gentleman."
"Claudia, be reasonable. It was just a little game I was playing."
"You owe me an abject apology, Mr. Sheldrake," Claudia snapped fiercely. "I will expect you to get down on your knees for that apology. On your knees, do you hear me?"
Claudia picked up her skirts and fled back toward the lights of the great house.
Peter turned on Augusta, who was choking on her laughter. "Well, madam, I trust you are satisfied with this night's mischief. You seem to have put an end to my engagement before it was even begun."
"Not at all, Mr. Sheldrake. You shall just have to work a bit harder at the task of wooing my cousin. She deserves that apology, by the way. I am not particularly pleased with you, either, I might add. When I think of how sympathetic I was toward you whenever you complained of your rheumatism, I get vastly annoyed."
Peter bit back another oath. "Well, you have certainly had your revenge."
Harry folded his arms across his chest, amused by the wrangling.
"May I ask when you first realized I was playing the role of Scruggs?" Peter growled.
Augusta smiled wickedly. "Why, 'twas that night when you drove Graystone and me about London for an hour or so before taking us back to Lady Arbuthnott's. I recognized your real voice when you tried to tell Harry that the drive might not be such an excellent notion."
"As you are happily married now, madam, it seems to me you should be thanking me for playing the role of coachman that night," Sheldrake retorted. "You should be feeling gratitude, not a desire for a paltry vengeance."
"That," Augusta said, "is a matter of opinion."
"Is that so? Well, allow me to point out—"
"Enough." Harry hastily interrupted as he realized he did not care for the direction in which the sparring was headed. The last thing he wanted tonight was for Augusta to recall how she had been coerced into a hasty marriage because of what had occurred in Sally's darkened carriage that night. He had enough problems on his hands without dredging up that bit of ammunition for her to use against him. "The two of you are beginning to remind me of a pair of small children and we do have guests to see to."
Peter muttered grimly under his breath. "I suppose I had better see about making that apology. Do you really think Claudia meant that part about me getting down on my knees?"
"Yes, I do," Augusta assured him.
Peter grinned suddenly. "I always knew she had spirit beneath that prim, angelic facade."
"Naturally," Augusta said. "Claudia may be not a Northumberland Ballinger, but she is still a Ballinger."
A long while later, when the great house was dark and silent at last, Harry sprawled in a chair in his bedchamber and considered the real reason he did not want to take Augusta to London.
He was afraid.
Afraid that in London she would once again find friends of a kindred spirit who would encourage her in her inclination toward recklessness.
Afraid that even though The Season was over she would still find ways to plunge herself into the whirl of activities and pleasures that she had enjoyed so much before her marriage.
Afraid that in Town she might just possibly encounter the kind of man who would appear to be a far more appropriate mate for a passionate female of the dashing Northumberland Ballinger clan than the man she had married.
Afraid that in London she might encounter the man to whom she could truly give her heart.
And yet he knew that even if that should occur, Augusta would honor her wedding vows, come what may. She was a woman of honor.
It struck Harry that he had everything that he thought he had wanted from the start. He had a woman who would be faithful as a matter of honor, even though her heart might be given to another.
Yes, he possessed her loyalty and her sweetly responsive body and they were no longer enough.
No longer enough.
Harry looked out into the night while he carefully opened the locked door deep inside himself. For an instant he peered very briefly into that hungry, desperate, smoldering darkness. He slammed the door shut at once but not before he had understood something he had not wanted to face until now.
For the first time he admitted that he longed to have Augusta's wild, passionate Northumberland Ballinger heart as well as her vow of faithfulness.
"Harry?"
He turned his head as the connecting door between Augusta's bedchamber and his own opened. Augusta stood there, soft and sweet and alluring in her white muslin nightdress.
"What is it, Augusta?"
"I am sorry I made such a fuss earlier tonight when you told me you must go to London." She trailed slowly into the room, the white muslin floating around her. "I understand that you fear Meredith and I will tie you down in Town. Perhaps you are right. If we would be a constant source of concern for you, then we would hamper your efficiency. I would not want that. I know finding the Spider is very important to you."
He smiled slowly and held out his hand. "Not as important as one or two other things in my life. Come here, Augusta."