“Mama,” she whispered.
As Gideon and Serafina took up a spot on the deck, the gangplank was lifted. The duchess came to stand on the other side of her son. Augusta sucked in a deep breath and moved to her mother’s side. She brushed her fingers against Lady Anne’s in a silent gesture of gratitude and support. The duchess turned and gave her a hopeful smile.
Maybe there still is a chance for our family to be together again. Thank heavens Mama is coming home with us.
The boat gave a lurch as it drew away from the dockside, and Augusta clenched her left hand into a fist. Her right hand was raised. She waved in the direction of Rome. Six weeks from now, her husband was due to make the same journey and sail for home.
“I am holding you to every single one of your promises, Flynn Cadnam. Don’t let me down,” she whispered into the wind.
The duchess had already moved away, and Augusta went to follow. This final moment of farewell was for Gideon and Serafina to share in private.
Serafina reached out once more to Augusta. “He will come; I know he will. Flynn loves you,” she said.
A weeping Augusta nodded, then walked away.
Hopefully, her sister-in-law would forgive her when she finally learned the truth of what had happened between Flynn and herself in Rome.
ChapterForty-Five
The Morning Herald
Wednesday, June 17, 1818
Seen disembarking from a ship which arrived in London early yesterday morning were the following persons of note. The Duchess of Mowbray, her daughter Lady Augusta Kembal, and most surprisingly, the Marquis of Holwell, along with an Italian lady. It would appear that London society had been tricked into thinking that Lord Gideon Kembal had retired to the Mowbray ducal estate, when in fact, he had slipped out of England and sailed to Rome. Word has it that the young lady who accompanied the marquis is his new wife.
Dear reader, your correspondent is eagerly anticipating what London society will make of these latest developments in the ongoing Mowbray Scandal.
Augusta lay in her bed listening while Victoria read out loud from the gossip column of the newspaper. Gideon’s hopeful plans for the Kembals to slip quietly into London unnoticed had all come to naught.
Not that she particularly cared either way. She was far more interested in the fact that their father had not only raced with great haste downstairs the moment he heard his wife was waiting in the travel coach in the mews, but that he had apparently thrown her over his shoulder and carried her up to their private apartment. No one had seen either of them since.
The case containing the duke’s love letters had clearly done the trick.
Augusta and her mother had taken the opportunity to talk during the long sea voyage home, but things between them were still strained. She hadn’t told the duchess about the wedding, nor that she and Flynn had become lovers. Until her husband returned, Augusta was determined to keep those things secret.
Late last evening, Gideon had received a private note from their father, the details of which had been shared with the rest of the family and servants. It stated simply that the duchess was home and resting from her long sea voyage. This was the official line that the Kembal family was to go with if anyone asked.
Unofficially, the Kembal siblings had been informed that their parents were going to be spending much of the rest of the week in the ducal suite, discussing matters. As a married woman, Augusta now had a pretty good idea what those discussions would involve.
“Are you coming down for breakfast? You didn’t eat much at supper last night?” asked Victoria.
Food. Urgh.
The mere thought of it turned Augusta’s stomach.
On the voyage home, Gideon had suffered terribly from seasickness whenever they left port. The poor boy. Serafina had spent many nights nursing her husband through bouts of extreme nausea.
In the privacy of her cabin, Augusta had endured her own delicate stomach. Coupled with sensitive nipples, and two missed monthly courses, she suspected her reasons for having been under the weather were not due to any tempest of the sea.
If she was pregnant, how long could she keep it a secret?
No one knew she and Flynn were married. And until he arrived, she didn’t want to say anything to anyone.
Except perhaps his uncle. Charles Cadnam.
“I have somewhere I need to be this morning, so breakfast will have to, unfortunately, wait. Perhaps you, Coco, and I could go and find a nice cake shop later in the day,” offered Augusta.
She wanted to be with her sisters. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed them until a tearful Victoria had embraced her yesterday morning. And when Augusta had sought out Coco, her younger sister had been an uncharacteristic sobbing mess.
