Josette (25 page)

“I'm on my way to the stables now. I have a horse.”

Josette released the poor man who despite the moment seemed to have enjoyed her aggression.

He patted his coat down and smoothed his hair. “I will send word to Caroline as soon as I find her, but if you wait beyond an hour, I suggest you inform your Captain Carter.”

Josette nodded, left him there, and ran for the ballroom. Poor Amy! What was she thinking? A girl like her could not run blindly through the streets of London. Panic-stricken, Josette wove in and around the silk-clad bodies pirouetting around the ballroom. Her eyes searched every corner as she checked behind the columns and plants. Hurrying to the tea room, she found Caroline waiting with
a sheen
of perspiration across her upper lip.

“What kept you so long? I've told Mama everything. She is calling for our carriage after she has a faint.”

“We've no time for fainting!” whispered Josette in a desperate hiss.

“We've no room for scandal.” Caroline glanced around the room, smirked at a young woman sprawled out on a settee and lowered her voice even further. “Mama will send for the carriage, then for us, and we will return home.”

“Not without Amy.” Josette's heart began to hammer so fervently in her chest she was sure her legs would buckle. “I'll go out. I can look for her, too.”

“Don't be a fool. We'll wait up to an hour then we must depart for home.
Don’t worry
, Wilkins will find her.”

“And if he doesn't?”

“Then we'll have to tell my cousin.”

“Carter?” Josette grabbed Caroline by the arm. “We must tell him now.”

“Are you mad? He'll call him out. He'll make everything known to Mr. Sparrow, and his daughter will be ruined.”

“I can’t save her at Amy's expense.”

“Give Wilkins a chance,” Caroline insisted.

Josette exhaled sharply with impatience.

Caroline handed her a damp handkerchief, and they went through the motions of refreshing themselves. Loitering as long as they dared, they moved toward the ballroom with every nerve on the alert.

Josette expected Amy to come darting out of a room at any moment in a fit of tears, but she did not appear.

“I can not imagine what your mother will do with us now,” she said sorrowfully.

Caroline pushed her forward through the ballroom doors. “You can't be serious, Josette Price. She lives for such stuff!”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Beside the table spread with petite fours and biscuits, Josette watched a towering clock nestled against the wall until it finally settled on the hour. Almost simultaneously like a well-rehearsed play, she saw Lady Berclair collapse in a near faint, and Caroline rush from the crowd to be at her side. The carriage was called and Josette swept into the small party of those concerned. She searched for Carter and did not spy him and wondered if he had returned to Whitehall. Perhaps he would take a room elsewhere and refuse to ever see her again.

Waiting for their wraps and for her chaperone to sufficiently recover, she noticed a cloud of smoke at the far end of the hall. A door opened and shut. There were gentlemen, she realized, still at cards. But this was not the main card room, for it was set far back and away from the festivities.

She hurried down the long hall toward the door, her feet gliding over the floor. It was quieter at the back of the house and the smell of cigars and strong drinks unmistakable. Raising her hand to knock, she froze when someone swung open the door.

“My dear,” a stranger cried, bowing so that his shirt opened shockingly at the neck fell open, “Come right in!” he chortled, and a chorus of men behind him joined in.

They were seated at a round table with stacks of coins and cards.

Josette waved the smoky air around and coughed. She blinked thorough the blue haze and found who she was looking for—Carter, standing at the far end of the room with one arm on the mantle staring into the fire. He had a drink in one hand and while she watched he tossed it back in one
swallow
.

The drunken gentleman, if one could address him as such, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into the room.

“Our company has come,” he announced and there was a smattering of applause at the table.

Josette looked about the sea of glazed faces in horror. “Carter,” she called instinctively, and he spun about in surprise.

“Oh ho!” cried her captor, and he tried to wrap his flaccid old arms around her waist. “There are no favorites tonight, Carter.”

Carter was across the room in three long strides. He snatched Josette from the man's grasp with one hand and shoved him back so hard with the other the sot almost fell down.

Instead, he laughed, and everyone joined in.

“What are you doing in here?” Carter snapped. His eyes blazed in emerald menace. She thought he might turn her over his knee at any moment.

“It's Amy,” she said. She tried not to cry, but her voice broke with fear.

He took a breath to calm himself. “Out!” he ordered, and she followed him into the hall with bellows of dissent following them from behind.

“Don't you ever step in to a gentlemen's room again,” he reproved angrily.
“And at this hour.
What would your father do but have to marry you off or call someone out?” He grabbed her by the shoulders as if to shake her.

Josette momentarily forgot about Amy. “You leave my father out of this! I came for your help. Caroline was right. I should have left it to Wilkins.”

“Where is she?” His tone no softer, boiled over with irritation.

“It's nothing I did,” Josette snapped. She looked toward the front of the house and worried that the carriage would leave without her. “Amy has run away,” she said quickly. Her voice caught in her throat but she blinked back tears and forced herself to remain calm.

Carter’s look instantly changed to one of concern. “What happened?” His mind seemed to race.

“It was Edward.”

“Of course.”

“No, not like that.”
She almost divulged Edward's kisses in the library but now was not the time. “Amy crossed his path in the garden and discovered him…” She struggled to be modest, though with George it had never been necessary. “Oh bother!” she snapped. “She saw him taking advantage of Rose Sparrow.
Or her of him.
Or they of one another.”

Carter looked heavenward in disgust. He exhaled slowly as if to calm himself. “Where has she gone?”

“We don't know.”

“How long ago.”

“Caroline told me to wait one hour.”

“For what reason,” he demanded angrily.

“To give Wilkins a chance,” Josette explained with some sheepishness.

Carter blanched at the insult. His eyes went so dark they were almost brown.

"We did not want you to…” She had no time to finish her sentence for Carter was running down the hall. To where he would go, she did not take the time to ponder but hurried herself for the waiting carriage. “Oh bother, indeed. There goes an angry man,” Josette whispered fearfully. She remembered Caroline's words.

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The carriage ride home was frantic. Lady Berclair happily speared the ceiling with her cane, Caroline snapped at every bone jarring rattle, and Josette put her head into her hands to stop the madness. They hurried inside where Josette was ordered to her room like an invalid.

“I'll wait in the drawing room,” she insisted but Lady Berclair swelled up like a goose and pointed up the stairs.

The woman had not said one cross word about Amy, though she had painted Edward black as pitch. She had used the word “Hell” four times. Josette counted.

To wait in her room was torture for a girl used to doing instead of enduring. She let down her short hair. Molly brought her tea and brushed her curls out. Josette soon sent her to bed. She preferred to pace the floors alone, and besides she needed the quiet to listen to the murmurs of the household below. If Caroline and her mother were to meet together, she would join them. There would be no strategies discussed without her involvement.

Josette tried not to think about the dangers lurking in the streets. Fear convulsed her heart and tried to squeeze out her faith in painful spurts. She sat and tried to begin a letter to her father but could not even form a credible opening line. Why alarm him until they knew everything? She thought of his face the day Captain Carter had brought the news about George.

After some time, she tiptoed down the stairs and found Lady Berclair in the drawing room, still dressed but snoring in her chair.

The butler was in a chair beside the front door. He raised his head when she reached the bottom stair but let it drop down sleepily with a sympathetic look.

“Amy, where have you gone?” her mind whimpered. She returned quietly to her room after checking on Caroline’s sleeping form. There was nothing to do but sit beside the black window and wait. She laid her head on the desk and watched the coals below her mantel fade to a glimmer. The season was a pleasant time but by the night air chilled, and should it rain… Josette tried not to think about that.

Light seeped through her heavy eyes and awoke her just before dawn. With a groan, she sat up from the desk. Her neck was stiff, her arm asleep. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes and wished for a glass of something wet before realizing no one had roused her. Stumbling to her feet, she ran to Amy's apartment. It was empty. The covers were pulled up on the bed. Her nightclothes lay out untouched.

Josette dashed down the stairs. The hall was quiet although she thought that she could hear the faint rattle of pots. She called for the footman and the exhausted old fellow stumbled up the stairs from the kitchen with a weary look.

“Any news?
Where is Lady Berclair?”

“My lady is gone to her bed,” he answered hoarsely.

“But my sister?
Has no one sent word?”

“We did not want to wake you.” He took her hand and patted it.

Panic overcame her. Not caring if every servant in the house knew every particular detail, Josette begged of him, “Have they found her?”

“Now, now, Miss Price,” he said, and he tried to lead her to the breakfast room. “Come sit and have your tea.”

Josette could not stop babbling. “Has Captain Carter returned? Captain Wilkins?”

Molly appeared out of nowhere, her hair messy under her cap. The old servant welcomed her with audible relief. “Miss Josette has not heard the news,” he said and hurried away.

Josette grabbed Molly's hands. “Tell me.
Everything.”
Her throat gnarled itself into tangles of agony, expecting the worst.

Molly took a deep breath and tried to soothe her with a weak smile. “Miss Price threw herself into the river.”

Josette cried out as the room began to spin. She did not feel her knees hit the floor.

“But Miss Price,” cried Molly, wrapping her arms around her tight, “Captain Wilkins saw her go in, and Captain Carter fished her out.”

“Amy’s not drowned?” Josette bawled.

As if to herself, Molly muttered regretfully, “And now he shall catch a chill, poor… Oh no, she's not killed. They took her to Captain Wilkins' place,” she added in a loud, scandalized whisper. “And Captain Carter is going to bring her home this morning.”