“I had some time on my hands and thought I’d pay you a visit… and infringe upon your privacy hoping you’ll take pity on me and offer to give me a guest room.” Augustus fell into a leather-bound winged back chair. “In reality, I needed a break from my father.”
“Ah, I see.” His friend and the marquess often butted heads, for they were on opposites sides of almost everything in life mostly because Augustus wished to antagonize the man at every turn for the amusement of it.
“Of course you can stay here. There’s plenty of room.” Though his presence at Worthington Hall would suddenly complicate things. “I also have a guest staying in the dower house. Lady Anne Lewis is here for a bit.”
“Doverton’s daughter?” Augustus laughed. He raked a hand through his hair and then slapped it on his thigh. “The odd duck who thinks she can fly?”
“Yes, her, but she’s not odd. Her mind merely doesn’t think on the same plain as the rest of us.” Benedict narrowed his eyes. “She’s quite intelligent.”
“Why is she here? I wasn’t aware you and she knew each other.”
“She’s experiencing problems with her parents.” He wouldn’t reveal any more than that, for it wasn’t anyone’s business.
“Ah, I see.” His friend grinned. “She’s the one who has enough curves to make a monk sin, yes? Have you sampled her goods yet?”
“No, I have not.” As annoyance filled his chest, Benedict launched from his chair. When his spectacles slid down his nose, he shoved them back into place. “She’s in the dower house for that exact reason. I won’t have our names linked in scandal.” He ignored the heat creeping up the back of his neck due to the kiss he’d given her yesterday. Augustus didn’t need to know about that either.
“The woman is well-acquainted with scandal though.”
“It matters not. Plus, my mother is here, so that dampens wandering hands… if such nonsense were to occur. But I promised sanctuary so she could concentrate on ballooning, and that’s what I’ll do.”
“Interesting.” For long moments, his friend leveled an assessing look on him that fairly brimmed with speculation. “By the by, there’s a traveling fair starting by week’s end, near Cranleigh.”
“Yes, I know. I let them camp on my lands every summer. Why do you mention it?”
“Well, it’s quite fortuitous, this discovering that Lady Anne has been thrown into the mix, for there’s talk in London over some reporter—Mr. Davies, one of Baron Emsworth’s sons—wanting to do a manned hot-air balloon flight across the entirety of London.”
“In one go?” He didn’t know much about stretching the length of a balloon flight, but that seemed a large area to cover.
“I suppose.”
When Benedict groaned, he nodded. “He’s bragging that he’s got the best skill of any balloonist in England currently, that he’s sailed higher than anyone else.”
“The man is insufferable. He’s already written a scathing article about Anne once this week.” He rubbed a hand along the side of his face. “Actually, I’d argue one of the most skilled balloonists is the woman currently occupying my dower house.”
Damn, why did I admit that?
Augustus’s eyebrows soared. “She’s gotten that far beneath your skin already?”
Another swath of heat sailed up the back of his neck. “Of course not, but I’ve seen her in action, even went up in her balloon on a tether yesterday. She’s the most intelligent woman I’ve ever known.” He couldn’t keep the admiration from his voice.
“You think she could take Mr. Davies in a contest?”
Did he? “May I calculate the risks first?”
“No. None of that. Go with your gut.” Augustus leaned forward, rested his arms on his thighs and let his hands dangle between his knees. “Do you think Lady Anne is the better balloonist? Could she show that cocky bastard up so he’ll be ridiculed in the paper instead of her?”
With her penchant for inventions and her knowledge of piloting a hot-air balloon coupled with her fearless pursuit of everything that would change her world, there was no doubt in his mind she could do anything. Finally, Benedict nodded. “I honestly do. But I’m not sure she’s gone such a distance before nor as high as Mr. Davies is proposing.”
Augustus shrugged. “Then convince her she needs to practice. Mr. Davies will make his London flight on September first. He wants all the publicity, so if Lady Anne can prove her mettle, she can share in that momentum, which will bring attention to her as well.”
Excitement buzzed at the base of his spine. “Why mention this to me?”
His friend grinned. “I don’t fully believe she’s as odd as the papers or rumors make her out to be. A woman of her looks simply can’t be.”
Twin threads of annoyance and jealousy twisted through his gut. “Would you like to meet her?”
“Of course.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Perhaps I can charm her.”