Josette (15 page)

“I must, my dear.”

“For your play?”
Lady Price asked.

Edward gave a negative shake of his head. “The Season is upon us, and I have commitments to keep.”

Josette said, “Edward, that's disappointing news.” She would not confess that she was weary of her cousin's boundless energy and craving for achievement.

Tears pooled in Amy's eyes, for once she was shocked into silence.

When Sir Robert gave his congratulations, Edward said, "I'll be in good company. Lady Berclair leaves in a fortnight.”

“With her daughter?”
Josette asked.

He cleared his throat.
“Of course.
One knows Miss Caroline Berclair would not be late for the Season.”

At this declaration, Amy gurgled like a stream as tears overflowed her eyes.

“There now,” Josette said in alarm, giving her handkerchief to her sister and patting her gently.

“But you'll go, too?” asked the Widow Mulgrave.

“Mama must not,” Josette explained. “It’s too soon.”

Her father, put out with drama of every kind, stood and hastily bowed before disappearing to his study.

“There now, kitten,” said Edward, “we'll be together soon. Here.” He generously handed Amy his volume of Shakespeare, which did not satisfy her.

Lady Price frowned. “You're exhausted, Amy. I'll call Hannah to put you to bed.” The women departed in a wave of feminine sympathy leaving Edward alone.

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Edward did leave the next morning, for once consistent in keeping with his schedule. The walls seemed to sigh after his departure. Indeed, the entire estate seemed to relax as if in need of a long meditative nap.

Josette took her old straw bonnet and walked the park’s eastern boundary, enjoying the scenes of rebirth. The entire world was green. Flowers dotted her little grove and her favorite bench waited to cradle her in its spindly arms. The smell of warm dirt and the perfume of young blossoms permeated her senses. She breathed deeply and sighed. It almost made winter worth bearing.

Captain Carter crept into her thoughts as he persistently did when she let down her guard. He was not a man of many words, but when he did speak it was always with purpose and forethought. Truth be told, he was not unlike her father in that way. Once offended by said nature, she now knew to respect it. It was no wonder George esteemed him so.

Sadness tugged at her heart. She had always loved everything her brother admired. His affection for anything was a contagion to his younger sister. What would he have thought of her refusing his favorite naval officer?

When the sun felt too warm through her Spencer, she roused herself and walked toward the house. Drifting through the vestibule, she saw the door to her father’s study ajar and him at his desk.
“Papa?”

He glanced up from his reading and gave her a pleasant look. “I've been waiting for you.”

Her stomach flipped in surprise.

He’d made no mention of Carter’s visit, unlike her mama. Josette had hoped they would all quietly ignore the affair.

She walked slowly across the room and took a seat.

“You may take off your bonnet,” he said in an amused voice.

“Oh,” she stuttered, and then fumbled with the ribbons at her chin.

Sir Robert made a steeple with his fingers and rested his whiskered chin upon it. “Your mother has told me Captain Carter visited you in Bedfield.”

Josette found to breathe was an effort.

“He's a good sort, Captain Carter.”

“He's well enough,” she replied.

Sir Robert smiled. “Your brother thought so. And so do
I
.”

Josette twisted her bonnet into an irregular shape and studied it closely.

“Any father would be pleased to have such a man’s attentions directed at one of his daughters.”

“You're flattered?” Josette asked, trying to sound amused. She eyed him steadily and concentrated so that she did not to blush.

“He is of good family and excellent reputation.”

“He's second born.”

“I wasn't aware of your ambitions, my dear. And the man has made a fortune in prize money to be sure.”

At this conjecture, Josette did blush. “I'm not Amy, Papa,” she said, a bit ashamed to call her own sister out.

“Of that I am certain. It's not difficult to tell two gels apart.
Though if we had more, the task would have been more so.”

“Only if we were of similar looks, and we are not. But I do remember you have called me George in moments of exasperation.”

A genuine laugh emitted from Sir Robert, and his eyes sparkled. “You were easier to confuse with your brother when you were small, truth be told.”

“I'd be flattered, Papa,” Josette said seriously, “to be oft confused with him now. I have no intention of leaving Beddingfield Park. Or you or Mama.”

Her father smiled again. “You have a profound sense of loyalty, but please remember it is not this park that makes you who you are. Don’t be afraid to step outside its palings.”

“Oh, no,” Josette breathed. She flashed on the day of her brother’s departure so many years ago, when he had left to accept his first post as midshipman and left her in command.

“You may be like your mother in many ways, but you have the Price spirit. If you had been born a boy, I’ve no doubt you would have joined your brother at sea.”

“George asked me to stay and watch over Beddingfield Park,” she confessed.

“You did not really want to join the Navy,” her father teased.

“I wanted to see dolphins and wild monkeys and the breadfruit tree.”

“A wild monkey?” her father repeated with distain, though it was evident he tried not to laugh.

“I love this park, Papa. I just dreamed someday I would get to see what lies beyond it. But it was not meant to be, and I accept it. I would have never made Lieutenant,” she joked with a toss of her chin.

Sir Robert chuckled. “You would have been a prized second son, but you are an irreplaceable first daughter.” His eyes glimmered. “Your brother would have never forgiven me if I bound you here.”

“I suppose that is in Edward's hands now.”

“That is entirely my meaning. You are not in so desperate a position that you must marry by arrangement. Follow your heart.” He motioned toward his study doors, and Josette took it to mean her mother.

“Was Mama your only ambition, Papa?”

“From the first moment I saw her,” he said with a faint smile. “I have reached my aspirations. True, they changed along the way, but I have pursued what has been reasonable and made do where I could not.”

“You are a good sort of man, Papa,” Josette declared. She hopped up from her chair and gave her father a rare hug.

“As is Captain Carter,” he said in a voice muffled through her sleeve.

Josette pitied his discomfort at her affectionate outburst and released him.

“But if you do not fancy the man, then by all means,” Sir Robert motioned toward the bright window, “see to your park while you can until someone changes your mind.”

Josette smiled at him, thanking him with her eyes, for she could not speak.

“Now,” he said after an interlude of silence and with his voice returned to its usual severity, “hurry along, I have my accounts to see to. And close the door on your way out.”

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Josette had only one week to relish the spring warmth and the settling of Beddingfield Park into its former routine.

The very day after attending services, Amy flew into her room and woke her with a voice shrill enough to dance the glasses from their window panes. “A letter's come!” she cried.

Josette put a pillow over her poor ears.

“From Lady Berclair.”

Josette, struggling for tolerance said, “And for this you wake me?”

Amy shook her again,
then
jerked the pillow from her sister's face. “We've been invited to London.”

This roused Josette enough to examine Amy's flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

“We?”

“You and I have been invited to accompany Lady Berclair to London.”

“With Miss Berclair?”

“Aye, Jo! Won't we have a time of it? Parties and balls, and carriage rides in the park.”

“With Lady Berclair,” Josette reminded her. She couldn't think of a more off-putting chaperone, but perhaps it would be a perfect solution for her sister's flightiness. “Mama couldn't bear to do without us,” Josette said decidedly. She did not want to go to the big city. Not with Lady Berclair or her daughter.

“But Edward's there!” Amy cried. She eyed her sister meaningfully.

“You go.”

“Not without you.”

“You don't need me.”

“I need your advisement.”

“You'll have Miss Caroline Berclair for that.”

“Yes,” Amy said, agreeing somewhat too hastily for Josette's feelings, “but you're my sister.”

Josette sighed. “Papa must agree, Amy. I would reign in your expectations if I were you.”

Her sister frowned then lit up once more. “Mama will convince him. She will if I beg for her to.” She gave a spoiled, clever look and glanced toward the door as if their parents were listening on the other side of it.

Josette stared back in wonder. “You are shameless, Amy Price.” And indeed she was, for their father allowed that evening that they should make haste less the Season begin without them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lady
Berclair’s
barouche arrived for Josette and her sister the following week. The four women together had many things, but their belongings left well before them so they were free to enjoy the journey. Amy rattled along with excitement, just like the grinding wheels, and Lady Berclair would interject now and then, “Hold your tongue, girl!”

This would make Caroline smile demurely and Josette inwardly grin. Her sister, she'd learned, had no fear of conversing with anyone in close quarters, but in a room full of people she became as quiet as a mouse.

“I have a wonderful room for you,” Lady Berclair announced to Josette, who tried to look charmed. “It was my sister's apartment once upon a time.”

“I do not mind sharing with my sister.”

“Nonsense,” said the old dragon. We have enough space for a dozen Price girls.”

“But there's only two of us,” Amy interjected. Her mouth had been still for too many moments.

“It looks out over the street,” Caroline boasted. “You'll have a view of everyone coming and going from Berkeley Square, and the sun shines just so in the morning.”