Seated next to Augusta, with her brandy glass resting on a voluminous book of curry recipes, Victoria gave a resigned sigh. “What are you going to do about Flynn? You can’t keep waiting and hoping that he is going to suddenly offer for you.”
There were times when Augusta felt she was stuck on a miller’s wheel, going round and round, never getting off nor making progress. How many nights had the two of them sat here and discussed her continued heartache over Viscount Cadnam?
She would dearly love to know the answer to that question. Nothing she had done so far seemed to move him an inch. Her greatest fear was that he was guilty of simply toying with her, and no matter what she did, nothing would ever come of their relationship.
He wouldn’t ever use me so wickedly. I know he loves me.
The alternative was too awful to even contemplate. She had to hold fast to her hopes and dreams.
Augusta had already attended the weddings of several of her close female friends, girls who were her own age. She could name another dozen young women of her acquaintance who were betrothed. And the rest—well, they were actively on the hunt for a husband, for their forever mate.
Her problem wasn’t so much in finding the right man. She was convinced she had already found him. Her problem lay in the deep-seated worry that he might not view her as being the one for him. That Flynn might well be hedging his bets.
Love was a two-way street, and she wouldn’t ever settle for anything less than a full commitment from the man she married. As she gave over her heart to her husband, she would expect him to reciprocate and offer his own in return. For her to have and to hold.
I am not convinced that he is prepared to stand up to his father and fight for us.
And if Flynn wasn’t going to go into battle with his ogre of a father and win his approval for his son to offer her marriage, then they were as good as finished. Her heart might well make its protests, but her pride wouldn’t let her sit idly by while she wasted the best years of her life on a man who didn’t have it in him to take that final step.
Her chest tightened painfully as that horrid notion settled in her mind. She had always thought a life without Flynn wasn’t one worth living. That she must surely die if he up and married someone else. Now it seemed that she might just have to accept that as her fate.
And if it is, what can I do to avoid spending my life in silent regret?
As the future earl, Flynn had to marry. It was expected of him. No matter the strained relationship he had with his father, Viscount Cadnam would have to produce an heir. Earl Bramshaw might, by reputation, be a horrid man, but Augusta doubted he was a fool. Because only the most recklessly vindictive of men would allow his bloodline to die out just in order to spite his son.
“What am I going to do about the dear viscount? That is a very good question.” Augusta fell silent for a moment as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. “I am thinking that perhaps it is time I took a different path in life. Flynn won’t confront his father about us, which means the earl won’t ever approve our marriage. The way things currently stand, we are both condemned to purgatory.”
Just saying the words brought hot stinging tears to her eyes. She blinked hard, hoping they would go away, but more followed. Her free hand wiped at her face as Augusta tried to stop the quiver in her lip and her jagged inhale of breath, but it was no use. She covered her face and sobbed. Her heart was breaking.
“Oh, G, I am so sorry,” said Victoria, resting her fingers gently on Augusta’s shoulder and giving her a comforting pat.
She would surely fall to pieces if her sister offered her a hug.
“You might be right in looking elsewhere for happiness. I know that sounds cold, but it may just be what you have to do. You can’t waste your life pining over someone who shows no sign of ever making you an offer of marriage. You love him, but I fear it is not enough.”
There was a hard reality in the situation between her and the viscount. Flynn may, as he had so often claimed, truly want her, but at the same time, he wasn’t prepared to make a major sacrifice and go against his father. And while Augusta was more than prepared to elope to Scotland and marry Flynn at Gretna Green, he wouldn’t ever do such a thing.
He hadn’t even bothered to seek her out after their disagreement in the orangery tonight. Instead, she had seen him head toward the front door, collect his coat, and disappear into the night.
I am finished with waiting for him to grow a spine.
“It does sound cold, but I fear that my looking elsewhere for a husband is the inevitable direction in which my connection with Flynn is headed. Only a deluded fool would continue to cling to hope when there isn’t any. If I don’t do something, I run the very real risk of waking up one day old and alone.”
Not even for Flynn and the love she held for him would Augusta do that, nor would her parents let her.
Continually dashing herself against the granite obstinance of Earl Bramshaw was a fool’s endeavor. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense for her to let Flynn go.
“My head says one thing, but my heart cries another,” added Augusta.
She reached for a handkerchief. It was late, and she was heartsore.
I don’t want to talk about Flynn anymore tonight. I can’t handle the agony.
Augusta pointed at the cookbook in her sister’s lap. “That looks interesting. Are you going to ask cook to try something new?”
Victoria softly smiled. They both knew what the Mowbray House head cook would say if she was asked to attempt a curry. Good old English roasts and plain meals were her forte, and she didn’t hold a favorable view of other cuisines.
“Well, I am game to try this new Indian curry. Apparently, it is all the rage. But, no, I wouldn’t be so stupid as to ask cook to make any of it,” announced Victoria.
