Josephine (Lady Archer's Creed Book 4)

by Amanda Mariel

  “Two lumps, please,” Georgie said.

  Josie dropped the sugar into Georgie’s teacup and stirred before handing it to Theo and lifting two more into her own hands. She returned to the settee, handed Adeline her cup, then settling back into place. “In two short days you will be the Countess of Ailesbury. It is rather exciting indeed.”

  Adeline beamed. “Lady Ailsebury, it sounds wonderful does it not?”

  “Splendid, indeed.” Theo sipped from her china teacup.

  “And for the first time you will have lady in front of your name. Not that I would ever expect you to act like one.” Georgina winked, her eyes lit with mischief.

  Adeline smirked, a small laugh escaping as she turned her attention on Josie. “Now we need only find a husband for you.”

  “I am in no hurry, though my Mama would disagree.” Josie had promised Mama before departing for Faversham Abbey that she would actively seek a husband upon her return. Their finances had reached an all time low. Mama told her if she failed to wed soon, and to a man of means, they would be completely destitute.

  Josie knew it to be selfish, all the same, she could not sell herself to the highest bidder. A destitute life was preferable to a loveless marriage. Still, she had not lied to Mama, merely bluffed. She had every intention of seeking a love match, and as such would open herself to being courted. She simply would not accept an offer unless deeply felt emotions were involved.

  “Perhaps you will meet someone while you are here.” Adeline set her cup on the mahogany side table.

  “Enough about me. Tell us, is there anything we can do for you? Is your gown ready? Do you require help planning the seating or menu?” Josie studied Adeline.

  “Not a thing. All of the arraignments have been made.” Adeline said. “I even took the liberty of scheduling activities just for us.”

  Josie could not help but feel a sense of loss. All of her friends were abandoning her for wedded life. Not truly, but all the same she could not help feeling left behind. What would happen to her with all three of them married? Would she return to the terrified girl she was when she arrived at school all those years ago? She got her strength from them. One thing was certain; nothing would ever be the same again.

  “Such as?” Georgie asked, one eyebrow arched.

  “Turkey hunting on the morrow. I cannot wait to show you my skill and see if any of you can hunt as well.” She angled her head at Theo. “I fear you will not return from Miss Emmeline’s in time to join us.”

  “Do not concern yourself with me. I am looking forward to some private time with Alistair.” Theo stood, setting her teacup aside then smoothing her skirts. “He wishes to depart at dawn. I had better see myself off to bed.”

  “Indeed, you will need your energy. Be sure to save some for once you’ve retrieved Ainsley and Arabella.” Adeline laughed before adding, “I do miss my troublesome sisters.”

  “You will see them soon enough,” Theo said.

  “I do hope they like the new gowns we commissioned,” Adeline added.

  “I’m certain they will.” Theo strolled to the door then turned back. “Sleep well, ladies.”

  “And you as well,” Josie said.

  “Speaking of gowns, did you receive the ones I had sent to your room?” Georgie asked.

  Josie’s face warmed. She loathed having to accept hand outs from her friends. One would think she’d have become accustomed to it after all these years, but she still experienced embarrassment every time they came to her rescue. She nodded. “Thank you, they are lovely.”

  “I am thinking the pink frock will do well for the ceremony,” Georgie softy replied.

  Adeline stood, stifling a yawn. “I am going to retire. I will see you both on the morrow.”

  “Yes, the hour grows late. I am for bed as well,” Georgie said.

  “I won’t be far behind you.” Josie was tired too, but not yet ready to retire to her room. She wished to finish her tea and enjoy a few minutes of silence first.

  “Very well,” Adeline said.

  Georgie nodded before both ladies strolled from the room.

  Josie moved to stand near the open window, where sipping the remainder of her tea, she soaked up the warm night breeze. The sky was aburst with stars, twinkling and a full moon lit the grounds. Part of her envied her friends for they not only found love, but security as well.

  Perhaps Adeline was correct and Josie would someday meet the perfect man for her. One who would love her, cherish her, and provide for her. She sighed, strolling to the sideboard to set her teacup down. The one thing she knew for certain was that she’d not met him yet.

  She’d had both the pleasure and displeasure of meeting many gentlemen at balls, musicals, and such. Once she had even fancied herself attracted to a dashingly handsome merchant. Unfortunately, she soon discovered he had the manners of a boar.

  Ready for bed, she left the parlor and began down the corridor. She glanced at the portraits hanging in gilded frames as she made her way toward the stairs. Most likely the earl’s relatives. One in particular caught her eye and she drew closer. An elegantly turned out woman with captivating violet eyes.

  She wondered what stories the lady in the portrait would tell if she retained the ability to speak. She would have to inquire about the woman when she had the earl’s ear. After taking a moment to soak in the details of the painting she turned, propelling herself back down the hall.

  “Ooh,” she said, her body bumping into another’s.

  Strong hands took hold of her shoulders, steadying her. “Are you alright.”

  Cheeks burning, Josie looked up, her gaze aimed directly at a man.

  He stared back at her, concern filling his green eyes. “Have I hurt you?”

  “N-no. The fault is mine. I was not paying attention to where I was going.” Josie stepped backwards, out of his reach. “My apologies.”

  She did not wait for him to speak again before hastening down the corridor, up the stairs, and into the safety of her room. She’d not even been in residence one day and she’d already made a cake of herself. What would people think if word of the incident got around to the other guests? She shuddered to think of it.

  CHAPTER 2

  Devon Mowbray, The Duke of Constantan, rarely left his estate. However, when he received the invitation to Lord Ailesbury’s nuptials he could scarcely resist the lure. Glancing around the drawing room, he stretched out his legs and waited for the man to appear. His thoughts drifted to the dark haired beauty he’d bumped into the night before but he forced his mind back to why he’d came.

  For years he’d heard tell of the Beast of Faversham. An earl with a badly scarred face and neck from a long ago fire. It was said the man never left Faversham and spent most of his time concealed at his estate. Something Devon could relate too, though his reasons were far more troublesome than a deformed appearance.

  Odder still, were the tales about the earl’s involvement in factory work and how his own people, despite his care for them, feared him. Some rubbish about his beastly demeanor matching that of his looks. It was hard to believe such inflated tales but impossible to deny how intriguing they were.

  He drummed his fingers on the arm of the settee. Even though Devon found it hard to relax when he was away from home for an extended period of time, he simply had to meet the mysterious fellow and see for himself.

  He prayed nothing went terribly wrong in his absence. His staff was superb and he’d seen to it that every precaution was in place. He had to trust that all would be well.

  A man strode into the room and Devon stood to greet him. “Lord Ailesbury, I presume.” He could be no other judging by the scar marking one side of his face. Nothing more than a trifle truly. Devon had expected much worse.

  “Indeed, and you must be The Duke of Constantan.” Ailesbury gave a warm smile.

  Devon nodded, it seemed all the gossips had painted the wrong picture of Ailesbury. Not only were his scares far from beastly, he also seemed to be
well mannered with a pleasant disposition. Devon offered a friendly smile. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.”

  “Thank you. I dare say, I am a lucky man.” Ailesbury chuckled. “Do have a seat, Your Grace.”

  “There is no need for such formality. Please call me Devon or Constantan if you prefer.” Devon relaxed against a plush sofa. Though he’d come planning to meet a beast, he could not be disappointed in the man before him. In fact, he suspected they could become friends. An unexpected but welcome thought.

  “Very well, and you shall call me Jasper.” Ailesbury turned to a nearby servant and ordered refreshments brought, then took a seat across from Devon. “How was your ride to Faversham?”

  “Rather uneventful. Our estates are less than a day’s ride from each other and the roads are smooth.” Devon crossed one leg over his knee. “A pity we did not meet sooner.”

  “Indeed,” Jasper said. “Before I met Miss Adeline, my soon to be countess, I never left Faversham lands.”

  “In that, we share a commonality, as I rarely leave my own lands.”

  A servant entered caring a silver tray laden with sweet cakes, biscuits, a pitcher, and glasses.

  Jasper’s eyes filled with curiosity though to the man’s credit he did not question Devon’s reason for being reclusive.

  Devon accepted a glass of lemonade, then continued. “Too many responsibilities make it hard for me to venture away.”

  “I certainly understand how busy an estate can keep a man,” Jasper said. “Here at Faversham there is always something or someone in need of my attention.”

  “I have heard tell that your house was once a monastery. It is impressive as are the lands.” Devon had heard almost as many tales about the property and surrounding village as he had about the man. Now he wondered if they too were misguided.

  “Indeed, it was. Perhaps you would like to join me and the Honorable Felton Crawford for a ride around the estate.” Jasper bit into his biscuit.

  “It would be my honor.” Devon surprised himself with the sincerity in his tone. He’d come here out of curiosity and expecting to return home with conformation of all the gossips had told. Instead he found himself genuinely enjoying Faversham as well as the man who controlled it. Perhaps this trip would prove to be a boon.

  Devon settled in determined to enjoy his time at Faversham Abbey and the easy conversation he’d fallen into with Jasper.

  Some hours later Devon found himself mounted on his stallion riding neck or nothing across Faversham’s fields with Jasper and Felton flanking him. Felton, he was told, had wed Miss Adeline’s old school friend. The girls were really more like kin according to Jasper.

  Devon discovered that he rather liked Felton. He got on well with both men and found himself enjoying his time away from home far more than he’d expected he would.

  Approaching a thicket of trees, Devon slowed his mount and followed Jasper. A narrow trail led through the bit of forest allowing only one horse at a time to pass. The trees branches stretched out above casting them in deep shadows and thick bushes and brush lined the sides of the path. Devon leaned to the side to keep from piercing his coat on a rogue branch as they made their way toward the sun filtering in at the far end of the trail.

  “Last one to the other side of the field has to brush the horses when we return,” Felton said, pushing his horse into a gallop.

  “I do hope you enjoy the task,” Jasper called back.

  Devon focused on the opening at the trails end. “That is what grooms are for.”

  “Tell me you are not above getting your hands dirty,” Felton said from behind.

  “I cannot abide it,” Devon said, as the men burst from the trail into the open field. He urged his stallion into full speed, riding neck or nothing across the land, determined to come out the victor.

  White hot pain tore into his shoulder. A moment later he thumped against the warm, tall grass of the field. What the devil had happened? He struggled to pull air into his lungs as he turned his head to investigate the searing pain. An arrow protruded from him, his shirt shredded around the spot where the arrow head had entered his flesh. He reached out a shaking hand to take hold of the arrows shaft.

  “No,” a female called out from somewhere to his left.

  Startled, he dropped his hand to his side and glanced around. His gaze lit on a group of ladies running toward him. Before he could process anything, one of them dropped onto her knees beside him.

  “You must not remove it. You will only cause more harm,” she said, her tone soothing.

  He stared at her. The dark haired beauty from last night. Or was she an angel come to see him off. The colors around him began to fade, lights bursting behind his eyes and dizziness consuming him. He fought to remain conscious, focusing on the woman now hovering over him.

  “My god Josie, you shot him!” Another woman leaned over his wound.

  “Not intentionally.” She glanced at the blond. “We must get him inside and call for the doctor at once.”

  If they touched him, he would not be able to fight the pain consuming him. Devon would black out and have no control over what happened to him. He attempted to shake his head but the slight motion only made him dizzier.

  “Grab his feet and I will grab his arms,” Jasper said, coming around him.

  “You can’t carry him. You would not be able to avoid jostling his shoulder and doing so would only cause more harm.”

  Devon’s dark haired angel lifted his head and settled it on her lap. “I am sorry. I never meant to shoot you,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

  Devon stared at her unable to speak through the pain. He should be furious, yet all he wished to do was comfort her.

  “Ladybug, go get help. Ride straight for the stable and have men sent.” Felton slid his hands under Devon. “Tell them to bring a wagon.”

  Devon glanced between the dark haired angel and Felton, an unpleasant jilt piercing him. He had no right, but could not deny his dislike of hearing another man call her by a pet name.

  * * * *

  Josie’s heart raced as she followed the men to the duke’s room. Good God, she’d well and truly shot him. And not just any man. No she could not have sunk her arrow into a servant or commoner. Not that she wished to harm anyone, she’d feel just as bad. But, a duke. She had to make amends for what she’d done.

  The men laid the duke on the bed and Josie moved to his side. “The doctor will require clean linens and hot water. Quite possibly whisky to sterilize the wound, and if nothing else to make His Grace more comfortable. Do you have whisky nearby?”

  “Yes.” Jasper retrieved a decanter and brought it to Josie.

  She accepted it. “Help me lift his head.” She held the decanter to his lips, tipping the bottle enough for him to take a hearty drink. “There, that should help until the doctor arrives.”

  Adeline wrapped her hand around Jasper’s arm. “We will see the supplies gathered and sent up at once.”

  Josie nodded.

  Georgie grabbed Felton’s coat sleeve. “And we will go wait for the doctor.”

  “Bring him up the moment he arrives,” Josie said. She watched as her friends fled the room, leaving her alone with her victim. How could she have done such a thing? Fired on a man when she’d been aiming for a turkey. She shook her head, her face warming. This was not the time for self loathing.

  She sat on a high-back chair beside the bed and began stroking her fingers through the duke’s thick, black hair. She needed to focus on seeing him well again. Rely on all she knew about medicine and wound care. She met his green gaze. “I promise not to leave your side. Whatever you require, I will do. I will not abandon you, not after what I’ve done. You have my word, Your Grace.”

  He reached up capturing one of her curls between his fingers. “Devon.”

  “W-what?” She narrowed her eyes in confusion.

  “My name,” he dropped his hand back to the bed, his ey
es drifting closed, “is Devon.”

  Josie’s heart skipped a beat as she reached for his wrist. She breathed a sigh of relief when she detected the strong thumping of his pulse. He had merely drifted off. “Sleep well, Devon.”

  She should release his wrist, leave his room and wait in the hall as was proper. Yet she found herself powerless to do either. He was her responsibility now. She would stay vigilant, ever present, until he was well.

  A bustling in the hall drew Josie’s attention. She glanced at the door as servants came in carrying supplies.

  “Set them there, beside the table.” Josie stood, watching as the servants sat piles of clean linen rags and strips along with a pitcher of steaming water and scissors on the bedside table.

  “Do you require anything further, milady?”

  Josie took inventory of the supplies, searching her mind. Where the devil was the doctor? The man was taking an exceedingly long time. She glanced back at the duke. The longer the arrow stayed lodged in him, the more likely infection was to set in. “Send Jasper and Felton along with a needle and thread.”

  The maid gave a quick curtsey, then left.

  Josie returned to the duke’s side. He remained unconscious. With any luck, he would stay asleep through the process. She paced at the foot of the bed until Felton and Jasper arrived along with the rest of the supplies. Stilling she meet their gazes. “The doctor is taking too long.”

  “It seems he is otherwise engaged. Word was sent that he will come as soon as he can. In the meantime we are to keep His Grace comfortable,” Jasper said.

  “Nonsense. If we leave him as he is infection will ravish him.” Josie returned to the bed and began cutting Devon’s shirt.

  “What are you doing?” Jasper stared at her, his jaw slackened.

  “I will need your help in case he should wake while I am tending the wound.” She peeled the white shirt from him, revealing his shoulder.

  “Are you certain you are qualified to tend him?” Jasper asked, still staring at her incredulously.

  “I assure you I am. Now come help.” Josie said, her tone allowing no argument.