Page 27

Chapter Ten

“I suspect I know why I am here.”

Miles watched Brook Waverly set down his hat as he joined Miles in the drawing room. The more masculine of the rooms, this had been Miles’s father’s preferred room, decorated in dark-stained walnut, red, and gold.

Miles waited until Waverly was seated then joined him while a footman poured them a dash of whisky each.

“I thought you might.”

“Miss Snow,” Waverly said simply.

Miles nodded and took a sip of whisky, savoring how it warmed his insides. He tried not to touch alcohol much these days but at the moment, he needed the comforting warmth. He’d tried to make light of these rumors and he was fairly certain no one really knew he and Augusta had kissed but he could see she was fearful of the damage they might do. He’d promised her he’d do what he could to protect her reputation and he meant it.

He knew without doubt he would do anything for her.

And there was his problem. It meant he could never tell her of his feelings for her. Never hope that there was some slim chance she might really want him instead of Henry. She and his brother were meant to be together, of that he was certain. They matched well and despite Henry’s failings as a fiancé, he was certain he would make a good husband. Augusta would no doubt be sublimely happy once married to him.

What more could Miles ask for?

He blew out a breath and forced aside any thoughts of having her for himself.

“I’ll be frank, Waverly, you said there were rumors about us?”

“Benedict came to me. Thought it was best that Miss Snow hear it from one of her friends. I know little save from the fact there was talk at one of Benedict’s dinner parties of your closeness and that perhaps Henry had waited too long and she was growing close to you.”

Miles grimaced. It was speculation on the behalf of whoever had put the rumor about as they had hardly been seen together at all but Augusta’s recent increased popularity with the opposite sex may have sparked notice.

“Did Benedict say where it came from?”

“He could not.” Brook took a sip of whiskey. “His wife overheard it but could not name the source.”

“So there are plenty of people who have already heard of the rumor.” Miles pressed fingers to his forehead. This was not good news. For women, sometimes it only took a whiff of a scandal to ruin them. He’d been foolish in even going near Augusta. What if someone had seen how he looked at her and made the assumption? What if he was not nearly as good at hiding his feelings as he thought?

“Unfortunately so,” Waverly concurred.

“My brother is returning soon,” Miles said. “His ship should be docking in Southampton any day now.”

Waverly nodded. “I had heard.” He leaned back against the red velvet chair. “I would think that a wedding would put to bed any rumors. If Henry sets a date quickly, surely everyone will forget such gossip?”

“I can only hope.” Even if the idea of them hastening down the aisle made his heart feel as though it was splintering in two. “I would hope they do not start their married life off on a sour note.”

“If I were you, I’d find the source of the talk.” Brook finished his drink and set the glass down on a gilded serving tray, set in the center of the coffee table. “If you can get them to admit they were lying, it would go a long way to protecting Miss Snow.”

“You must have read my mind. Do you perchance know who was in attendance at Benedict’s party?”

“The Livelys, I believe. And a few of the new crowd. You should ask Benedict but he is in Bath for the next few days.”

Miles sighed. He doubted the Livelys, who were decent and fairly quiet folk, would have anything to say. Thenoveaurich, however... “Was Jenkins there?”

“Jenkins? Probably.”

Miles shook his head. He knew precisely where the rumors had come from. No doubt it was revenge for Miles punching him the other day. He should have known someone like Jenkins would stoop so low as to try to damage a good lady’s reputation. The chances were, if he did not put a stop to it, Jenkins might even do worse.

“It sounds as though you need to pay someone a visit,” Waverly commented, rising to his feet.

Miles stood too. “My thanks, Waverly.”

“Try not to kill the man,” Waverly said with a grin. “Just a few bruises should do it.”