Authors: Danielle Thorne
Tags: #Romance, #Regency, #General, #Historical, #Fiction
“Yes, Lady Berclair, I understand,” Josette answered, with all of the warmth that she could express. She comprehended that the lady had been her champion all along and wondered if she knew how much she deeply loved her nephew.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The coach rattled along pitching up dust. The covered windows made the ride stifling. Josette thought she should melt in all of her layers of clothes. Her traveling gown felt like a blanket. She wished that silk was more durable. She had grown very fond of her silk under things that Lady Berclair had insisted she would need.
They rocked along talking quietly for a time, but eventually Amy tired and let her head droop against the nearest corner.
Millerd, stiff and upright, did not seem to relax until she drifted away and Josette pitied him.
“You look as uncomfortable as I,” she said softly.
He wiped his forehead and tugged at his cravat. “It is unpleasant warm.”
Josette rolled up the coverlet over the window for air, dusty though it was. “We should have left earlier in the morning. I'm sorry I held us up.”
Millerd smiled. “Has the Season left you habitually late?”
“I don't seem to be in so much of a hurry anymore, do I?” she mused. “I do not sleep so well at inns.”
“But you're happy to be going home?”
“There's no reason to stay the entire Season. Papa has promised us a trip to Brighton, and I think we should rest up for it should he decide to indulge us.”
“Brighton, ah,” said Millerd and a frown appeared briefly before his good nature swept it away. “You have spent much time there?”
“On occasion.”
He glanced at Amy's sleeping form. “Besides the sea, there is not that much in Brighton than there is anywhere else.”
“I'm happy to think we miss nothing by roaming the grounds of Beddingfield Park.”
“I am thinking,” Millerd said, “of having a picnic. You have never visited my home.”
“You've never invited us,” Josette teased.
“A bachelor’s clumsy mistake.
But see now, I have. You and Amy must come. It's much more recent than Beddingfield Park to be sure, but I don't think I'd be too proud to call it a suitable situation.”
“I'm sure it is,” Josette soothed. “I’ve heard your tenants have the tidiest cottages of anywhere in the county, and I would love to see your trout stream.”
He nodded, and they rode awhile more in companionable silence.
Josette felt, more than heard, the familiar sounds of pasturing animals so close to the road that it had to be the fork that led to her father’s acreage. She rolled up the window cover and peeked out. Trees yawned over the highway creating a cool canopy.
“Amy.” She roused her sister and Millerd jerked to alertness. “We're almost home.” She took out a handkerchief, and Amy did the same. They were content that they were presentable by the time the horses ambled up the long drive to the house. How wonderful to find Hannah and her Mama waiting.
“Girls!
Girls!”
They stepped lively from the coach into their mother’s arms with Millerd fidgeting around them.
“Mr. Millerd,” Lady Price said, and he bowed low. She took his hands and gave them both a squeeze. “You have brought my darlings home.”
“Mama, come let us tell you all about the city.”
Lady Price ignored Josette's attempt to steer her thoughts from Amy.
“Amy,” she cried and hugged her youngest child as if they had been apart for years. They clung to one another, and Josette looked helplessly up to the roofline. There was a bit of sagging that needed repair, and the ivy had taken free reign on the eastern water spouts. After a few moments of whispering and kisses, Lady Price straightened.
“Come in, please.” She led the party indoors where a heaping table waited to be devoured.
Millerd did it justice and to Josette's surprise, so did Amy.
“You said you could not wait for strawberries,” Amy said with a grin avoiding Josette's looks.
“Evidently you missed them as much as I.”
Josette picked at her plate after eating all of the cucumbers she could hold. Perhaps there would be no discussions of the disastrous occasion until
Millerd's
departure.
Her father arrived from his matters of business after a late morning.
Millerd greeted him anxiously, but Sir Robert waved off the formalities and invited him into his study. They disappeared after her father took a plate of fruit fresh from their own orchard.
“I imagine they have much to discuss,” Lady Price said in the silence that followed. She looked pensively at Amy.
“Where has he been?”
“To Bedfield.”
“The Egglestone’s?”
“
Mmmm
,” their mother replied. She studied Amy closely.
“I am well, Mama.”
“She is,” Josette agreed. “The physician cleared her and she has had rest.”
“And have you, Josette?” her mother asked, turning the attention her way. “You look as wan as your sister.”
“I'm sure the sun will soon take care of that.”
“Josette has missed her walks,” Amy tattled.
“Did you not go walking in the parks?”
“Yes,” said Josette, “but Lady
Beclair
is for both bonnets and parasols.”
“And how she scolds,” added Amy.
“You have given her much to fuss about,” Lady Price said with a frown. “Come along, child,” she said to her younger daughter. “Go see to your room, Josette, and rest a spell. I will come wake you, and you can tell me all about the city.”
“And Captain Carter,” Amy urged with a sad look.
Josette narrowed her eyes at her, but too late, for their mother saw it all.
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≈
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Josette did nap but only for a short time. Her mother slipped in and sat beside her, and when she was roused enough to speak, Josette told her everything, beginning with Amy's anxiety for their cousin wherever they met to the last ball that found Edward sporting with another miss.
Lady Price pursed her mouth from time to time but did not interrupt. When Josette finished, her mother embraced her warmly. “We must watch Amy closely now,” she said and Josette saw she was burdened by guilt for having indulged her daughter’s fancies. “When you are feeling better, your father wishes to see you in his study.”
And so that evening before supper, Josette again rehearsed all that occurred to her father, who listened carefully with thoughtful eyes now clearly creased at the corners from time and tragedy.
“I must thank Captain Carter again and do so immediately,” he said. He gazed through her toward the uncovered windows. The lawn glowed vibrant and green, the park hummed. “Once again, he has intervened and saved us from calamity.”
Josette sighed heavily. “I am
want
to think that Amy has learned her lesson. True her heart has been broken, but she has realized that living with heartache is preferable to abandoning us all to grief.”
“Let us hope.”
“She did not mean to cause us any pain.”
“Merely inconvenience,” her father said with a rare spark in his eye.
“I’m afraid she has inconvenienced Captain Carter all the worst. I’m sure he does not have time for such mischief.”
“When does his commission take him back to sea?”
“He did not say.” Josette bit her lip. She could not add that he had said very little at all. He had in fact, had very little to say to her at all since their walk in the garden was interrupted by Captain Wilkins. “I really don’t see how he manages to tolerate us at all,” she said with a sad laugh.
“He is a decent gentleman.” Sir Robert darted at a glanced at her, searching for something he would not inquire of.
Thinking to change the course of the conversation, Josette said, “And how did you find Mrs. Egglestone? Does she miss me very much?”
“Indeed.” Her father began to watch her closely. “I understand you went calling with her during your stay there.”
“Yes.”
Her father stared for a moment as if to speak, and Josette suddenly understood. That he should know about George’s son took her by surprise. Bravely she inquired, “Have you been to that farmer’s cottage outside of the parish?”
Once more he appraised her with a serious eye before remitting. “Yes, my dear, I did call on Mr. Lovejoy and his family.”
“And how did you find them?”
“Well.”
The two exchanged glances but no more was said of it other than, “I have a whole new respect for Captain Carter. One I never thought I would own to before.”
“And that you should. We all should.”
“Papa,” she began but he cut her off sternly.
“It is time to see to
yourself
, Josette. Amy will recover. You need not squander your life away tending to us invalids.”
“Invalids my foot,” Josette returned with a smile.
“I would encourage you to think of Bath and joining Lady Berclair.”
“She was intent on coming home.”
“She had a change of heart.”
Or so her daughter did. Josette wondered what she would write in her first missive to Caroline. Where would she begin to scold her for running off to find more reasons to laugh?
She realized she had not answered her father but shook her head. “I prefer promenading through the elms. I have no desire to run to Bath.”
Josette did take an afternoon stroll and at a leisurely pace. Millerd declined to join her with thin though polite excuses. She imagined him rambling happily away at Amy’s side while her sister stared on in bemusement. “You could do much worse,” she said aloud but no one heard her but the trees.
It was a moment to be savored, alone at last, wandering in and out of her favorite spots. She found her bench, no worse for wear, though there was a strange twine of greenery creeping up along one back leg. She only waited until she knew it close to supper before sneaking back up to her room and changing. How happy she was to be home she decided as she checked her complexion for sunspots in the looking glass.
And how miserable.
Something seemed to be missing from Beddingfield Park. It wasn’t
George,
he would always be at Beddingfield Park. His portrait was hanging beside their grandfather’s. No, George may not be coming home, but he would never be apart. Everything was happy and bright once more, but something inexplicable made Josette’s heart feel as heavy as a millstone.
She drifted down to dinner and tried to coax her best smile. The food had very little taste and the cheerful banter at
Millerd’s
expense afforded no amusement. “What a simpleton I am,” she said when she had fled her family’s company to her own room once more.
“Only feeling and smiling on the outside.”