Josette (11 page)

Her sister looked at her gratefully and brightened when Edward added, “I'm sure I could not do without her.”

At this Sir Robert frowned, as did the vicar, but Lady Price said in a quick breath that Amy had many talents and only engaged in helping her cousin to write to please him. An awkward hesitation fell over the table as the Egglestone's waiting for Amy's demurral, so Josette without thinking further, volunteered.

“Amy is prone to a cold,” she excused, “but I am not. The walks in the park with only my pelisse have only made me as vigorous as any seaman. I would be happy to help you with your nieces and nephews, Mrs. Egglestone.”

The woman, if not astounded Josette would pass up time to spend with her inheriting cousin, happily accepted. She waited until the other ladies made their excuses to the drawing room, before scooting close to Josette to plan their future adventure.

CHAPTER EIGHT

A week after Twelfth Night and more cake than was good for her figure, Josette hurried into the drawing room with the latest ship-news. Her own room was in an uproar. She was to depart for the Egglestone’s soon, leaving Amy and Edward to their own devices.

Seated beside the
firescreen
, Josette scanned the announcements. There was no mention of the
Persephone
and she told herself that it was good. No news meant
no
disasters. Lost in thought, her gaze turned toward the window, which had frosted over like lace. She imagined Captain Carter in a tar coat shuddering in the cold.

Edward burst into the room and interrupted her sympathetic reflection. “It's snowing again. We'll be house bound until the Season.” He threw himself messily onto the settle.
 

“I leave for the Egglestone’s in a
se’night
,
” Josette answered. She put the paper down in her lap. You will put off your play until I return?”

“Of course we will. I can't do without the Wicked Duchess.”

“You did without her in your skits on Twelfth Night. How does Amy come along?”

“It's a pity she's young. I’d take her to London with me in the spring.”

“You most certainly would not.”

Edward grinned back, his recent reserve forgotten. “You don't think she'd follow me if I pleaded?”

“Papa would never allow it, nor would I. Besides,” Josette tried to wipe the prudish look from her face, “we will probably go on at least one occasion to see your mother.”

“You won't set up house?”

“Mama doesn't feel it would be proper for her to be seen yet.”

Edward leaned up on one elbow. “You won't deny poor Amy a Season?”

“I'm sure some arrangement will be made.”

“And you have no desire to go?”

Josette shrugged. She was almost past the age of throwing herself into the festivities of the Season in hopes of a stupendous match. And she'd been with her cousin for months now it seemed. His attentions did not interest her, and truth be told, the writing and acting were far beneath him.

“I've spoken with Uncle about the Berclair ladies. With all of this weather, I thought we should have a night of cards.”

“You want to entertain at a time the roads are icy sheets?”

“It melts off in the afternoons. Will be gone by Thursday,” he predicted.

“I doubt Papa will give you permission to have a party with Mama still in black and the weather just as bleak.”

“He already has,” Edward said with a wicked grin.

“You're joking!”

“I'm not. As soon as the weather clears I'm sending invitations out. So better you polish up your
vingt
-un.”

Josette made a noise of dissatisfaction.

“You must play with us before you leave, Jo.” Edward eyed her with affection. “I'll long for you madly.”

Since their discovery in the library, Josette had treated Edward coolly. The affectionate nature of their sibling-like connection had become more proper. Conversation did not move beyond compliments or the weather. This renewed warmth in his eyes made her uncomfortable, and she returned to her ship-news to ignore him.

Finally he sighed with boredom and went away.

To think he would blatantly admit he would tempt Amy to follow him to town! What would George say if he knew his favorite cousin was pulling his baby sister’s strings? Probably have a good laugh, if not a row behind the garden first.

Josette wondered at her father. Was he blind to Edward's games? He had never been so free with his consents. Just that afternoon, she had wandered into his office and begged the news from him. He had handed it to her with a quiet smile then turned her around to retie the loose ribbon at her back. The recollection of this tender moment brought tears to her eyes and she blinked. What puddings the old house was to make of them this winter.

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Edward invited three guests from the village, including the Widow Mulgrave, to join Lady Berclair and her daughter for cards. He cleaned out the library and set up their tables and even moved in the chair from the drawing room that Lady Price fancied. They assembled around the tables after hot drinks of chocolate with Sir Robert staring into a book, and his lady watching cheerfully from her seat.

Lady Berclair demanded Josette join her, so she found herself surrounded by a crowd of women older than herself, while Edward entertained his younger companions and Mrs.
Mulgrave's
nephew. It was a dull game, and Josette couldn't have been happier when an opportunity to stretch presented itself. She hurried over to watch the other table.

Upon seeing her, Caroline begged of her, “Miss Price, tell your cousin that the ostrich feather is no longer in fashion.”

Josette winced as she had two in her armoire.

“Not everyone in town has given them up,” Edward disagreed. “You fancy them, don't you, cousin?”

“I find them gauche,” Caroline muttered.

“Me, too,” Amy insisted, ignoring the fact that Lady Berclair wore more feathers than a chicken.

“I suppose it's a matter of preference.”

Edward pounced on Josette’s defense. “Take this room for instance,” he declared. “It's a fine room though the window coverings are dated and the clock, well,” he laughed, “practically antique. But it is warm and comfortable.”

Caroline looked around, scowled at the clock as she wrapped her silk shawl a little tighter.

“It's in sad want of refurbishment if you'll beg a difference of opinion.”

Amy nodded.

Cousin Mulgrave held his tongue.

Josette would not. “It's a library. We don't hold balls or banquets in here. And that clock from Germany was a gift from my grandfather to my mother.”

“It's lovely,” Caroline said belatedly.

“Now the vestibule,” Edward said as if no one else had spoken, “and the drawing room and study, those will see complete reformations.”

A flash of irritation leapt up Josette's spine. She felt Caroline's eyes on her, and it helped her hold her tongue.

Then Caroline asked, “What will you do with the drawing room, Edward?”

“Paint it blue.”

“Blue?” cried Josette. “What lady would want to sit in a blue room on a rainy afternoon and do her needlework?”

“I like blue,” said Amy matter-of-factly.

Caroline smiled.
“A light blue.
The color of the sky.
Something beautiful and feminine.”

“Yes, that is just what I had in mind,” Edward agreed.

“Josette Price,” Lady Berclair squawked, and Josette hurried back to her table. She could not pay attention and did Widow Mulgrave a poor job of partnering her for whist.

Lady Berclair took to winning with great pleasure so much that she complimented Josette on her dress. “I believe it was my nephew who mentioned gray as being complimentary to your poor complexion.”

“My poor complexion?”

“Pity you are not as fair as your sister though your hair is a lovely walnut color.”

Mrs. Mulgrave said unhelpfully, “It will show the gray before you know it.”

“Your nephew found me of poor complexion?”

“My nephew, Carter,” Lady Berclair volunteered. “Captain, Corporal, Colonel, I cannot keep their ranks straight, the war-mongering fools.”

“You don't find a man in uniform handsome?” asked the widow in surprise. “I did in my time,” she chuckled.

Josette glanced at the woman and wondered if she had added something to her teacup.

To her surprise, Lady Berclair gave a quiet laugh, too. “Do you fancy a man in colors, Miss Price?”

Shocked, Josette immediately looked for her mother but Lady Price was listening intently to Edward's table and the giggles erupting from every other hand.

“Ah-hem?”

Josette turned back to the women and managed a perfunctory smile. “It depends, I suppose, upon the officer himself.”

“Huzzah!” cheered Mrs. Mulgrave aloud in agreement.

Lady Berclair needled Josette with piercing eyes. “And how do the colors of the Royal Navy suit your tastes?”

An understanding passed between them and before she could stop herself, Josette, feeling color high on her poor complexion, remarked, “I have no affinity for blue in any shade, your Ladyship.”

The old woman’s expression wavered momentarily before hardening back to its condescending veneer.

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Early the next morning the coach arrived to take her to Bedfield where the Egglestone's modest home awaited with several lively children. The coincidence that she would be playing governess to the Egglestone relations, as would Caroline to her nieces and nephews, did not escape her. Irritation over Caroline's teasing intrusions troubled her mind. She had slept poorly.

At the close of the prior afternoon, as Edward had assisted his uncle in escorting their guests to their carriages, Amy had trounced off to nap but Josette could not find it in herself to do the same. Captain Carter had found her in good looks in her gray gown at the Berclair concert, but of poor complexion? Were those Lady
Berclair's
words or his? She could not tear her mind away from the idea that he found her looks as wanting as her spirit.
The impudence of the man—to confide such unflattering opinions to his loquacious relative.

The carriage stumbled over a cache of rocks spread across the highway and shook Josette's bones. It rattled the complex accounts of Captain Phillip Carter.

The Navy deemed him accountable, yet he had limped into
Spithead
in a ship barely afloat. George believed him heroic beyond any fault, and it had cost him his life. The rest of the Price family found him gentlemanly and unselfish, yet the details Edward brought forth smacked of a self-serving, grandiose character. Was every naval captain cut from the same cloth? She could not imagine her brother taking on such airs.

As the carriage descended upon a long, smooth stretch of highway and gentle rolling hills, Josette laid her head against the window and pondered.
She thought of Edward and his plans to remodel Beddingfield Park once he took possession. Fate would require one of the Beddingfield girls to intervene. If Edward did not soon take a fancy to her younger sister, Josette would have to play the love-struck chit to save their home from a most beloved family member. After a pleasant hour, the coach circled into a small courtyard. “I
will dwell on this no more,” she told herself as she stepped into pastel sunlight. “It is fruitless diversion.”