Josette (22 page)

She burst into the hall to dart up the stairs for her apartment, but stopped so suddenly that she almost took a spill.

Below on the ground floor, Lady
Berclair’s
butler was helping Captain Carter with his hat. A loud bump rattled the doorframe as his trunk was brought in. He did not reprimand the footman for dropping his things, for his eyes were glued on Josette, but not with surprise. No, for certain he had known that she was there. As always, he was in uniform, his stockings pristine.

Josette caught herself eyeing his calves waiting for something, anything to come out of his mouth. Her chest was pulsing with a treacherously pounding heart. What a state!

“Phillip!” squawked Lady Berclair, rattling down the marble stairs in her heavy layers. “You've come at last. Have your things sent to your room. You're just in time for a ride to the park.”

Captain Carter’s upward glance went from his aunt to Josette.

“Miss Price,” cried the woman, “you still in half-dress! I can't take you into the park in such a state. Hurry, gel! We don't have all morning.” The woman pounded her cane on the marble floor, though with a queer smile on her face.
 

Josette felt
herself
blush from the roots of her hair to her toenails and smarted because of it. It would not do to let the Captain see her discomfited. He had not said hello, and she had acted like Amy, all a-blush and tongue-tied. She nodded and fled past Lady Berclair up the stairs.

The letter shot to the forefront of her mind, and her knees almost went out from under her. Oh la! The letter! Why had she sent it at all? It was no wonder he had not spoken. What was there to say after such a passionate confession? And did he find it passionate? Spirited?

She found herself twirling this way and that in front of the looking glass while Molly squeezed her hands together. “You look lovely,” the maid assured her for the second time.

Josette studied the smart gown. It was white but of a durable fabric, the sleeves long but puffed on the shoulders. Not that it would show, she decided as she picked up a puce Spencer and matching bonnet. Her parasol was not new, but the sky blue looked pretty with her other things. None of it would match her bothersome brown eyes.

She breathed deeply, pushed a curl out of her face and departed. At least she would not be alone. Lady Berclair would keep up the chatter on the carriage ride and perhaps Amy would come out of her stupor.

She was the last to be helped into the carriage. It was only the three young women and their chaperone. Josette looked warily about but did not see the captain or a mount.

As if knowing her mind Caroline said, “My cousin is not accompanying us to the park. He has business to see to.”

“Oh,” said Josette, trying to appear surprised. “He is here.”

“He said he met you on the landing when he arrived.”

Lady Berclair tipped her nose up and looked down it at Josette. “Your mind is soft. Mind your parasol, Miss Price.”

Josette glanced at Amy who stared out into the street lost in her thoughts. “Did you see Captain Carter?”

“He helped me out.”

“Are you very happy to see him again?”

“Yes.” Amy shifted in her seat.

“And he was pleased to remember you I imagine.”

“Yes, so he was,” Amy said with sharpness.

Josette raised her brows and made a face at Caroline across the way. “I'm sorry he couldn't accompany us,” she said generously. All the while her nerves screamed for mercy.

As if hearing them, Caroline replied, “I’m sure you that are.”

At this, Lady Berclair began howling about gentlemen and their clubs and war. She only ceased when they made their calls,
then
continued again until reaching the park. They were so happy to escape her lamentations they nearly scrambled over one another to get out of the carriage.

It was no surprise to find Millerd there with two mates from his time at Oxford. He introduced them, and Josette watched them rove their eyes over her sister. The examination made her feel sour, and she found she could not be charming. After a long walk admiring the flowers and pretty waters, they went their way at last, returning in time to rest before dinner.

Josette hurried to her room as soon as they arrived. She had never felt so ill at ease. It had taken all of her reserve not to run up the stairs, not to look into the drawing room or toward the library. Perhaps he was hiding, too. Why had he come if he knew that she was there?

Her hopes for a distracting word from home were dashed as soon as she saw the empty desk beside the window. There was no letter waiting for her, and it was where Molly always left missives when she was away. With no news from home to take her mind off her quandary, she paced the floor until dinner. Her stomach churned, and her palms perspired unpleasantly.

Blast it all, she swore to herself, she had never been so distraught over a simple man. She looked heavenward to George. “I hear you.
Laughing.
Whatever has become of Lieutenant Josette? She has lost Beddingfield Park and now her nerve.”

She stopped and studied herself in the reflection of the window. But that wasn't the most important thing in the world, even Papa had said so. What mattered was the pursuit of happiness.
Of finding someone to love.
To share life with.
He had given up any possibility of advancement by marrying her mother, and together they had sacrificed to keep Beddingfield Park afloat and respectable. It seemed a comfortable life. She wanted a comfortable, happy life, too. But there would be none of that, if she did not listen to her heart and gather her courage.

The dinner bell rang and Josette heard voices moving toward the stairs. She turned and examined herself once more; large eyes, flushed cheeks. “Oh pity the vain and their mirrors!” she cried.

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Dinner was a miserable affair. Josette could not look the man in the eye, who had saved her illegitimate nephew, the man who had led her brother, comforted her family, and sought her companionship. She could not bear to feel even his passing glance, and could not force herself to forget the lamentable letter.

Lady Berclair drilled her nephew with queries that he answered in a cool, confident tone. He admired Caroline’s necklace that had been their grand-mama's and while his aunt was
resupplying
her ammunition with gulps of wine, confided in Amy that her hair seemed longer and a little more bright than when he saw her last.

Caroline would not stop passing Josette looks and just as the last course was served, launched into one of her games. “You will be escorting us to the private ball on Saturday?” she asked Carter.

Her cousin looked back placidly.

“Mother will be our chaperone, but won't it be pretty for you to accompany us?”

Carter dipped his chin in agreement then chose to look down at his plate.

“The countess will be delighted to see you,” Lady Berclair agreed. “She presses me for details about the blockade every time we meet. As if I study the naval news,” she added in distain.

Carter’s eyes flitted to Josette.

Caroline waved her hand toward her, though she might as well have stood and pointed. “Miss Price indulges in the war papers. Knows every ship and who commissions her.”

Lady Berclair, whose mouth was full of food, stopped chewing as if she'd come across a lump of gristle.

“Quiz her, Carter,” Caroline said with a nod. “Ask her, let us see, who commandeers the
Sprite
?”

Josette's face reddened.

“I’m sure she would not know,” Carter insisted.

Caroline beamed at her with a teasing stare.

“Wilkins,” muttered Josette, half-ashamed.

“Roger Wilkins?” repeated Lady Berclair with a sneer. “He's not a Navy man.”

“A privateer, anyway,” said Caroline.

“Pirate,” declared her mother.

Josette stared back down at her plate.

“I'm surprised she would be acquainted with Captain Wilkins,” said Carter.

Josette did not miss the disdain in his voice.

“Oh, she is,” said Caroline innocently. She grinned at Josette who rubbed her thumb over the tines of her fork and thought how relieving it would be to skewer her. “Ask her another.”

Carter cleared his throat, clearly unhappy at Caroline's demand. With a quick turn, he asked his aunt instead, “How is the Countess' dog?” And the woman nearly sputtered so great was her excitement to lecture them all on the pug’s state of health since being bitten by a rat.

Josette turned the food on her plate and glanced up occasionally at her sister to see if she shared her misery.

Amy's expression was far away. She did not seem to mind the droll discourse, though Carter's presence seemed to have brought her some measure of comfort.

They finished their meal and agreed to sit in the drawing room and listen to Caroline and her harp. After two well played pieces, Carter asked Amy to sing
acappella
,
and she acquiesced, though quietly.

Josette stared into the fire. The room was not brightly lit and the meal had made her sleepy, but the presence of the man would not let her relax. Every nerve seemed to be on guard for his voice to query her, to criticize, to insult her in some way. She could feel the unhappiness emanating from his tall, dark form that he had come to town to share quarters with her under the same roof. She was so relieved when Lady Berclair insisted they retire she nearly ran from the room.

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The next morning Josette tarried as long as she dared. She asked for breakfast in her apartment and made excuses that she had not slept well.

Amy crept in and warned her that Lady Berclair had plans for them to visit the milliner for new bonnets.

Josette was quite happy with the one she had chosen at Howden’s and did not see why she would need another, but the outing would be an escape, she decided, and she presumed that Carter would not accompany them. She was right in that regard, but surprised when Molly interrupted her soon after to inform her that Millerd was waiting in the drawing room.

Dash it all, Millerd had come to call again?

“Miss Berclair says she is indisposed,” Molly informed unhelpfully. “But he did ask about your sister as well.”

Josette heaved a sigh and hoped it was only to see his friend Captain Carter and not herself.

He was waiting for her when she came down the stairs in the gown with jonquil blossoms and a green ribbon in her hair.

Amy was seated before him listening to him go on.

Captain Carter sat at a table in the corner turning a quill over in his hand.

Josette curtseyed, and Millerd almost fell over in his clumsy attempt to attend her.

Carter stood unnecessarily. It was practically his home after all.

“Mr. Millerd you've caught us ready to go out,” she said with a smile she conjured up from she knew not where. Her eyes darted to Carter who was neither in uniform nor a state of dress. Instead, he wore tanned breeches and a white tunic top open at the neck. She caught her breath and looked away. He was practically disheveled.
And watching her.

“I came to make certain you and your sister would not miss the revelry to be put on by the Countess
DeGrassy
.