Josette (2 page)

After many hours of trembling in the dark, she carried the shock and misery, along with the scent of him, back to her own silent quarters.

Hannah was waiting with the straw bonnet that had been lost when Josette collided with the horse and rider. She tearfully explained that the Captain had returned it and asked as to whether it should be replaced. Josette crumpled it and threw it in a corner. It was an old thing, anyway.

Although she would not face her family at dinner, Josette agreed to take some cold chicken. She did not feel like eating, but the pallor on Hannah’s face tugged at her conscience.

The rain spattered the windows in a monotonous stream that was impossible to ignore. She knew she should check to make sure the canvas sheets were secure over the hole in George’s room, but could not make herself return. She had left it cold, leaky, and eternally empty. As if in answer to her dilemma, there was a soft knock at the door and Lady Price slipped inside.

Josette’s mother was a tall, thin woman who had given Amy her flaxen hair. She wore it wound tightly on the top of her head, which showed off a fair complexion and handsome neck. In a swish of silk skirts she dropped onto the bed. Their foreheads touched and Josette’s face screwed up at the pain in her mother’s eyes. Lady Price hugged her tightly and cried into her neck for some time. Her daughter could only pat and squeeze her.

“He would not have wanted this.” Lady Price laughed into the empty air as she wiped her raw face. “Oh, darling,” she whimpered and the tears broke free again.

“Mama,” whispered Josette, taking her mother in her arms once more. “He knew the danger. He wrote to me of them in every letter.”

“And he thought it all grand, didn’t he?
The sea and adventure.”
Her mother laughed bitterly. “There was no reason for him to be an officer. He had everything here, the park,
his
title.” She righted herself and smoothed her gown. “Your father is overcome. We must be strong, you and I.” She pressed her lips together in a forced smile. “I’ve invited Captain Carter to stay. We can not send him out into this.” She waved toward the darkened windows, which were still taking a beating.

“Captain Carter?” asked Josette. The familiar name muddled her already liquid thoughts. “Not the
Persephone’s
captain?”

“It’s an honor he’s paid us a call in person.”

Josette sat up with a jerk. “George’s captain? Come all this way?”

Her mother nodded. “They just sailed in Portsmouth this Monday past. He came straight away.”

“But why should he?” Anger flooded over Josette, and she welcomed it. “Why didn’t he send word?”

“He did,” her mother said quickly to calm her daughter's rising temper. “He did not know the news had not reached us. His aunt lives at
Ashfield
Hall, and he’s expected.”

“I’ve never known a captain to do such a thing.”

“Many captains call when they’re able, but only to the families of those they hold in the highest regard.”

Lady Price said this with pride as if it should make the anguish easier to bear, but if the truth was that Carter had relatives in the country, his respects had been a mere convenience.

Josette would not set the bearer of Beddingfield Park’s tragic news free of condemnation. “If he thought so highly of George, he would not have let him die.” Her chin quivered, but she would not cry. “Oh, Mama, I’ve no true friend left in the world.”

CHAPTER TWO

Josette woke to a blinding sun that should have been veiled by curtains, but no one had drawn them. She shivered in the stale clothing she had neglected to remove the night before. The horrible memory of what had befallen Beddingfield Park washed over her before her feet touched the floor. With great difficulty, she changed by her own accord into a dull black sack of a gown and tipped-toed down into the heart of the quiet house.

Noises were coming from the back, but not the cheerful songs that carried up on most mornings. Josette had never in her memory beat Hannah or the housemaids up and about. The house seemed to sigh, and she felt the emptiness of it keenly. Once it had lived on dreams of her young master’s return, but now he was dead. Josette and Amy had no other brothers. When her father was gone...

As this apprehension infiltrated her mind, Josette slipped into the breakfast parlor. To her surprise, sitting in his smart blue coat was George’s Captain Carter, with a cup of coffee halfway up to his lips. He seemed to start when he saw her and jumped to his feet. “Madam,” he said.

Josette could find nothing to answer, so she took a chair opposite him and stared instead until something came to her mind. “You are Captain Carter?” she finally asked. She pressed her lips together and gave him an inspection.

He inclined his head and waited for an invitation to sit, which she offered with a jerk of her head.

“I knew your brother well.”

“So you’ve said,” replied Josette. “And I know of you.”

For some reason, this came out sounding like a threat, and she watched his brows rise slightly over shadowed, deep-set eyes. They were green and very clear.

“And he spoke of you often, Miss Price.” His tone hinted at something questionable.

Josette frowned. Her brother had been completely wrong about this man. George thought Rose Sparrow had been in love with him when he was fourteen. He’d been wrong about that, too. He was not always a very good judge of character, Josette reminded herself. “My brother said you were the finest captain he ever served under.”

“I believe I was but one of two.”

“He also said you liked to give chase.”

“Indeed?”

“At all costs.”

“I only follow orders, Miss Price.”

“Not instincts?”

“Fortunately, I find them to be frequent companions.”

Someone interrupted them from the kitchen with fresh coffee. Josette stared past Carter’s head to the sunny grounds that contradicted her every emotion. “You’ve given us a terrible shock,” she continued once they were alone. “George was my only brother.”

Josette’s voice quavered at the mention of George’s name, and she had to swallow a sip of steaming black liquid to keep from bursting into tears. She felt the captain examining her and when she met his eye, saw pity mixed with something she could not make out.

“We trusted you,” she managed at last, and the blame she’d felt since the moment he uttered his cruel words stirred in her belly. “We entrusted him into your care, and in the King’s, and now he is dead.”

Captain’s Carter face went white, then it colored, and Josette saw that it was not with shame but something dark and angry. She realized with a pinch of remorse that she had offended their guest just as the door opened and Amy joined them. Captain Carter stood again, abruptly, and bowed.

“We’ve not had formal introductions,” Amy said in a thin voice. She looked sad and watery, but all together beautiful.

“Miss Amy Price,” Josette said for her. She noticed her sister’s state of dress and felt her jaw slacken. She glanced down at her own dyed gown. For her sister not to don mourning clothes was inexcusable. She’d had energy enough put off her dressing robes.

Amy did not seem to feel the daggers Josette sent her way. She chatted quietly with Captain Carter, as if George had never existed at all. The captain’s answers were clipped and unaffected.

Josette rose stiffly from her chair. The eggs that had been quietly placed before her were still on her plate. Her coffee was cold. “Again, please do excuse my parents this morning, Mr. Carter,” she said with an emphasis on
Mr.
She knew from George how offended an officer would be not to hear his title. “We are all in an upset.”

Captain Carter rose a third time with displeasure chalked upon his countenance. “Again, for your loss,” he said, but Josette guessed from his unfathomable eyes that he wanted to say more.

Bernard interrupted the ungracious exit with a grave announcement: “Mr. Egglestone,” he said, meaning their clergy friend and his wife. Josette hurried out to greet them as she resolutely pushed the grief down where it belonged.

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Mr. Egglestone met with her father while his wife visited with the Ladies Price and Captain Carter. Carter stood once more facing an open window as if deaf to the conversation in the room. He had a seaman’s posture--upright with legs slightly parted and hands clasped behind his back.

Josette studied the hem of his unlined coat and found upon close inspection that it was slightly worn, despite the new crepe armband. His white breeches did not hide that his legs were long and sturdy, so Josette peeked at his ankles to see if they were weak. She was disappointed she could not see through his polished boots.

He inclined his head toward her slightly, and she shifted her gaze. Of course his great
instincts
would have warned him he was under examination. Josette bit her lip. As her inclination to be fair nudged her conscience, she reminded herself he was all but responsible for her brother’s death. If he were as great a captain as it was reported, he would have saved her brother’s life instead of taking leave to come and destroy theirs. She was determined not to like him no matter how striking his person. He had ruined their lives forever.

Mrs. Egglestone did her best to bring comfort to them in the family’s well-used drawing room. It was a common room with cream walls and pink and red prints on the upholstery, an all together pleasant place, except for this day, there were people dressed in black. Josette glanced toward the window and noted the one exception, a hulking boar of a man ogling her grounds.

The conversation, after proper expressions of comfort on Mrs. Egglestone’s part, Amy deftly turned toward her own tragedy.

“I must miss the harvest dinner at the Benton’s,” she said sadly. She smoothed down the black taffeta gown she had changed into. “That wouldn’t be proper, and no one expects me.” She hung her head.

“There will always be the next season, my dear,” crooned Mrs. Egglestone, and Amy’s head shot up.

“Mama, you do not expect me to stay home the entire winter?”

Lady Price said nothing, but her daughter’s petulance lit a spark in her eye. She gave a small, amused smile. “I’m sure George would not have wanted such a thing.”

Josette snorted in disgust. She glared at her selfish sibling. “But then again you always do what’s proper.”

Amy ignored Josette’s sarcasm by reaching for a glossy curl to twist around her finger. “What do you think, Captain Carter? What do you think my brother would have wanted for his little sister?”

His little sister that never wrote
, thought Josette angrily.

“Your brother was very fond of a party.” Carter faced the ladies to make his pretty speech, and Josette caught herself holding her breath when he turned his attention to her.

“I understand you play the piano-forte, Miss Price.”

“And net and draw and ride well, too,” Josette said in annoyance.

Carter searched her face, and she wondered at what he was thinking.

“Side-saddle, of course.”
She was not as prim as Amy, but she didn’t want him to think she was a wild thing. That would not do for the reputation of Beddingfield Park. She only wished she could ride astride like some ladies did when no one was about. George had known those
kind
of women.
And admired them.
He had told her so.

“Perhaps I will have the honor.” Carter motioned toward the window as if two mounts were waiting outside, but his tone held no sincerity.