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“Oh.” She lifted her hands and threw them down. “You are determined to be obtuse today.”

“Forgive me. I am done being obtuse.” He lifted a hand. “I swear it.”

She pursed her lips. “Very well.”

“We had better head back to the party before you are missed.” He glanced sideways at her while they followed the rose-scented path back to the main gardens. “Mr. Jenkins is likely missing you a great deal.”

“I doubt he is that bothered by me. There was plenty of pretty young women in attendance.”

“Still, I think you should be wary. Jenkins has quite the reputation.”

“I know many men with reputations.” She arched a brow.

“Yes, yes, I am a fine one to talk but please, Gus, be careful of him. I should hate to see something happen to you.”

“What? Like be kissed by him perhaps?” she asked archly.

Miles almost smiled at the barb. It was rare the prickly side of Augusta made an appearance but he had rattled her quite hard, it seems.

“Just be careful,” he urged.

“You are not my keeper, Miles.”

No, he wasn’t, and she should be grateful, because if he was, he’d keep her damn well locked away from every man and have her for himself. He sighed inwardly. This talk had done nothing apart from make her mildly annoyed with him and demonstrate one thing—he was as obsessed with Augusta as ever.