Josette (26 page)

Josette put a hand to her heart and held it. What she would do to that stupid girl when she arrived.

There were only a few sips of tea and a
half
 
piece
of toasted bread eaten when Josette heard the carriage arrive with her sister. She ran out, tripping over the hem of her rumpled gown and threw herself over Amy's still form in Carter's arms as he came through the door.

Amy was wrapped in a wool blanket, her hair a tangled mess. Her face looked so white it could have been blue.

“Amy,” Josette whispered.

Her sister silently gazed up at the ceiling.

“Let me pass,” Carter said brusquely.

A footman helped him carry her up the stairs, and they were followed by two older gentlemen carrying small bags and looking pensive.

Josette followed the parade up into Amy's chambers.

A rather noble looking physician had already examined Amy but he evidently wanted to see her settled in and give the servants their orders.

Josette tried to dodge the throng around the bed and take Amy's hand. “Are you well?”

Amy's eyes were empty, but she reached out for an embrace.

Josette hugged her and put a kiss on her cheek. “I will write Papa at once. We will return to Beddingfield Park as soon as you are able.” She waited for Amy to revolt and
beg
that she should stay, but the girl did not.

The physician reached for Amy's hand and looked over his spectacles at Josette. “She needs rest now. You may go.”

Josette opened her mouth to refuse, but Carter stopped her.
“Outside, Miss Price.
Leave them to their duty.”

She looked up angrily.

He merely stood stone-faced with hands behind his back.

She hadn't noticed he'd changed.

His clothes were different than what he'd worn to the ball--a pair of worn trousers, a cotton shift, and a faded coat too short in the arms. His hair looked damp and hastily combed. Lines of fatigue accentuated the shadows under his eyes. “I'll see you out,” he said curtly. His face, and something in the way he had looked at her the night before, had changed, too.

Amy stared blankly at the bed's foot and did not protest when Josette embraced her once more.

 
“I'll be right outside,” she promised. With her chin up and back stiff, she strode out of the room and waited for Carter. “I have every right to sit with my sister,” she whispered sharply as soon as he closed the door behind them.

“She doesn't need you right now.”

“She most certainly does!”

“Have your breakfast and see to yourself. She only needs to rest.”

“I should be at her side.”

“She is well enough. Only time will determine if she is to be ill.”

“I will send word to Papa then.”

Carter grabbed her wrist before she could dart off. “You haven't changed, or slept, by the look of it. I will send the message to your family.”

“I'm perfectly capable, Carter!” Josette snapped, ignoring the jolt of energy she felt when his fingers closed around her arm. Instead, tears welled up as exhaustion overcame her.

“You've carried on enough.”

“She's my sister,” she said. Despair rose in her chest. “I should have watched her more closely.”

“Perhaps chained her to your side? Your sister has a mind of her own, as did your brother. You do them no service by taking responsibility for their actions.”

Josette's face fell, confused by his line of reasoning.

The green eyes penetrated hers. “Save yourself, Josette, before you try to live everyone else's life. God knows you are not in line for Beddingfield Park.”

Josette's mouth made a small 'o' at the man's audacity.

“It was never to be, nor was it ever your responsibility. Your brother,” he continued in a rushing blast, “chose his career, chose to give up the inheritance should he die, knowing full well the repercussions. And your father allowed it.”

His hand fell away from her, and he clenched and unclenched his fists. “There is no need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Or your sister.”
He motioned toward the closed doors. “The doctors will see to her now, and she will be well. I have no doubt of it. Go to your room and lie down.”

He all but commanded it with a look, leaving Josette speechless.

Carter hurried down the stairs calling for his hat as Josette silently watched him go. Is that what he thought? That she was a busybody trying to live everyone else's lives? He should be one to talk. He'd been prying into her family matters since George's death, and who knew how long before that.
Not that she wasn't grateful,
but the harsh snapping cadences of his lecture peppered her heart.

Tears came unbidden, and she ran to her room. Grief such as she had never known exploded out of her chest. George, oh George!
And Amy, too.
Now Edward would be called out and probably killed. And the park would go on without any Price. One season would fade into the next, and what would become of her?

Sobbing, sniffling, and furious at her sister for such a foolish act, she beat her pillow with her fists. She gasped with sobs that folded her in half, but even as she cried, she knew by some mysterious gift of clarity that she had not truly cried like this in many years. Her pain at the loss of her brother had been stowed away like cargo. Her anxiety over her future and her feelings for Captain Carter had been withheld like food.
Why did she have to love that cold, hard Captain Carter?
she
wondered miserably. Why did she admire him so?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Caroline and Josette took turns with Lady Berclair sitting beside Amy's bed and reading aloud.

After three days, when no fever manifested
itself
, Amy climbed out from under the blankets and asked that she be allowed to dress and sit by her window. It was made so.

Josette made sure that her sister ate all of her breakfast and dressed her, perhaps too warmly, before setting her up in a comfortable chair with a high, padded back. “Do you want a book?”

“No.”

“Some ink?”

“No.” Amy looked over her shoulder and with some of her old peevishness said, “Let me be. I can hardly breathe from all the scrutiny.”

Josette smarted but held her tongue. If Amy needed time alone she was welcome to it. She, herself, was exhausted.

Captain Carter had not returned since he had left the house in his great hurry. Everyone walked and talked quietly as if the floors were made of eggs.

She sighed. Word from her father had arrived that morning. He had given permission for Carter to arrange for the sisters to come home and filled an entire page with gratitude for Amy's safe return and good health. Whatever the letter directed into Amy's hands contained, Josette did not know, but she wondered that it was not a good scolding. She was sure her parents would have come.

Captain Carter must have watered down the gravity of the situation during the long midnight hours. How much he had revealed about Edward she could only speculate.

She was relieved she hadn’t divulged his shocking behavior in the library and rooms of Beddingfield Park. To think of herself or her sister chained to him for life now made her ill. She drifted down the stairs for the drawing room.

Caroline was at her harp strumming languidly and smiled at her.

The sound of horses outside drew her to the window before she could sit down. “It's Millerd,” Josette said with some surprise.

“I'm astonished we have not had him call sooner.”

“Perhaps he was not made aware.”

“For certain he knows now.”

Through the glass, Josette watched him have a serious word with his footman. “He knows,” she guessed. The bell rang and she took a seat on the settee, picked up yesterday's news and waited.

He came through the door hardly waiting to be announced. “Miss Price,” he said. He reached for her hands. “Is she well?”

“She's fine.”

“Truly?”
Worried lines etched his forehead.

“I'm sure she would be happy to see you.”

From her corner, Caroline said, “She's bored.”

“Miss Berclair. I did not see you there.” Millerd took a handkerchief and wiped his temples. “I interrupted your practice.”

“I was finished. Josette was going to thrill me with the on
dits
column.”

“Oh,” Millerd said with a frown, “that.” He glanced upward as if he could see through the plaster. “Would you announce me? Will she see me?”

“Of course.”
Josette took him by the arm and gave it a little shake. “But how did you know?”

“Goodness, don't say it made the columns!” said Caroline before he could respond.

“I don't think you would quite mind the scandal,” Josette accused.

“Not scandal, no, but to be discovered.”
She pursed her red mouth at them both. “There's nothing wrong with a little scandal as long as it's a private matter.”

“Really!”
Josette turned to Millerd. “It's in the papers?”

“No, dear, no.”
He motioned toward Caroline but said to Josette, “Carter, you know. We had to see the matter settled for everyone involved.”

“Please do not say he called out my cousin.”

Millerd swallowed and looked grim. “I'm afraid there were other reputations to consider.”

“Poor Rose Sparrow,” Caroline said with a snicker.

“Good Lord, did he shoot him?”

Millerd seemed to almost smile but caught himself. “No, Miss Price, now you must not concern yourself with it.”

“Tell me at once! I demand it.”

“And so do
I
.” Caroline rose and swished across the room. “Tell us Millerd,” she bullied, “or I shall call Mama.”

Millerd wiped non-existent perspiration from his brow then crumpled the cloth in his hand. “He got a good beating was
all.
”

Caroline grinned.
“At the hands of my cousin or Miss Sparrow's father?”

“Carter of course.”

Josette felt her eyes widen. “He battered my cousin?”

“Like a ship in a storm, I'd wager.”

Josette frowned at Caroline. “And what will I tell my father? There was a tavern brawl?”

“That Cousin Edward got his pay. Really, Josette, doesn’t that please you at all?”

Josette could not confess that maybe a little beating would please her, but Caroline, knowing it, laughed at her unspoken reflections.

“It's a good thing it was Amy he cuckolded. Were it you, I'm sure Carter would have hanged him from the mast.”

Josette snorted. “Come along,” she said, taking Millerd by the arm and saving them both from any more of Caroline's merriment.