by Wilde, Tanya
Jo tried not to react to that news. He would not even give her the exact date. This was ridiculous. How could they go off on a dangerous mission, where they might die and not share anything with her?
“In the meantime, you must remain out of sight and not draw any attention to yourselves,” Derek warned.
“That will be easy enough.” Poppy muttered. “It’s not like we go about searching for trouble.”
“I do not believe that,” James interrupted, filling the doorway again. “You women cannot stay out of trouble any more than I can stay out of a—”
“James!” Derek gave him a warning stare.
James shrugged sheepishly. “I was going to say bottle of whisky.”
“We can manage to remain out of sight for few days,” Jo snapped. “You have this notion that we can’t help ourselves. It’s utter rot.”
Poppy grabbed Jo’s arm and pulled her to the door. “We must leave. We’ve been gone too long.” She shot Damien a scathing look and to James she said, “In fact, we will court no trouble if you stay out of our way.”
Confusion lit James’s brow. “Why?”
“Why do people do things they are told not to do?”
“They are children, no doubt.”
“No,” she said lightly. “They are grown men.”
Josephine did not wait for James’s reply and Poppy didn’t elaborate as she led them out of the library without so much as a backward glance. Eyes bored into their backs, in all likelihood contemplating whether or not they should trust them, or whether or not they were up to something again.
In the shadows, a figure moved, his footsteps quietly descending the stairs as he made his way into the darkness of the night. Mr. Cartwright would be so pleased once he delivered the good news. He may even give him a promotion, since he had been the one who’d uncovered who lay behind the disappearance of Lady Cartwright.
The shadow chuckled, a harsh grating sound made cruel by years of puffing cheap cigars. One could learn anything if you became invisible, and who was more invisible than a footman.
They considered themselves smart. Lady Josephine, she’d been the brains of Lady Cartwright’s grand escape. He was certain of it. And Cartwright did not care about the involvement of anyone else—he wanted the person responsible for the daring the plan. The person who dared to go against the most powerful man in Britain. And that person was a woman. Mr. Cartwright would be furious that a mere woman almost bested him. No wonder she didn’t know any better. Women had no sense and were only good for one thing.
Mr. Cartwright would enjoy Lady Josephine, break her spirit and maybe, just maybe, he would throw what’s left of her to him. His lips turned into a snarl. He would enjoy snapping her neck when he was through with her. Footsteps quickened as he hurried to get the news to his employer. The sooner Mr. Cartwright knew about her, the faster he would receive his prize.
Willow stared at Jo in shock. “Cartwright knows?”
Jo nodded, glancing at the rest of the girls. They all sat on Belle’s bed in her bedroom, well everyone except Willow. She paced the floor, wearing the carpet thin. Holly’s head followed the movements of her sister while the rest of them sat in unmoving. Of course the Middletons hadn’t known the true purpose of their distraction and had taken the news well enough. Jo hadn’t wanted to inform them but Belle insisted. After all, they did have a right to be informed.
Jo would never admit it, but she was terrified of Damien going off on some mission to deal with Cartwright. What if he got himself killed? Would she be able to live with herself, knowing she was the cause? She could not sit back and watch him put his life in danger. But did she have a choice? The men would never divulge the details of their plan.
“Are you ok?” Belle asked with a slight touch to her hand.
With an absent nod she replied, “I have an awful feeling about this.”
“They are strong men who can take care of themselves,” Belle supplied in a soft voice.
Her friend only wished to help, and she was indeed correct. Jo needn’t worry about the Damien. The thought of him as a pampered aristocrat, lazily wading through life, had never sat true with Jo. Who was she to judge? Guilt plagued her for her lack of confidence in him.
“What are we going to do?” Holly asked, her eyes wide with... excitement?
Jo stared pointedly at Holly, giving her a stern look. “Nothing. The men will deal with Cartwright while we stay out of their way.”
Willow nodded her agreement.
Holly bestowed upon them a miserable look. “You propose we sit idly by while the men have all the fun?”
“Fun? This is not a circus fair,” Willow reprimanded her sister. “If what is said about this man is to be believed then we are in pressing need of help.”
“That is why we should be included,” Poppy cut in. “You are asking us to entrust our lives in the hands of men we do not know.”
“We know them,” Belle told her cousin. “And may I remind you that Mr. Shaw saved your life.”
Jo caught Poppy’s shudder, but the girl did not let it go. “So we are to let them put their lives in danger because of our reckless actions?”
“I do not like it any more than you do,” Jo muttered.
“I say we put it to a vote,” Holly insisted.
“What would be the point?” Jo said with the shake of her head. “We do not even know what the men are planning. If we interfere we may cause more damage than good.”
“Jo is right, cousins,” Belle said with a nod. “We must trust that in a few days’ time, the men will have taken care of it.”
“I agree,” Willow murmured.
“I feel so useless,” Poppy admitted.
“Me too,” Holly said.
“Has Evelyn been informed yet?” Belle asked.
“No, but for now, it’s for the best. That neither she nor Grey noticed anything is amiss is telling enough of their one-track minds.”
“She will not be happy when she learns you’ve kept this secret from her,” Willow observed.
“Neither will her husband,” Holly volunteered.
Belle and Jo both shrugged. “They will get over it. No use putting them in danger as well.”
“Or ruin their obvious wedded bliss,” Belle put in, her smile sly.
Holly turned to Jo, her eyes alight with mischief. “Speaking of wedded bliss, I cannot help notice that you and the Marquis of St. Aldwyn are spending more time together.”
Jo choked on air, her eyes wide. “I beg your pardon? We have not.”
Holly’s lips twitched in a knowing smile. “I must have imagined it then.”
“Yes, you must have.”
Poppy shook her head. “No, I’ve noticed it as well. The marquis seems utterly taken with you.”
Jo snorted. “He enjoys pestering me and would like nothing more than to ruin any plans that revolve around my charities.”
“You mean your dangerous projects that entail kidnapping every abused person in Britain,” Willow supplied in a dry voice.
Jo cast her a look of disgust.
“I daresay the marquis is quite fond of you, and that may explain his determination to protect you from what he believes to be yourself,” Willow continued unperturbed by Jo’s annoyance.
“The marquis and I have come to some sort of understanding, working together if you will. But it will never be more than that, I can assure you. Neither of us desires to marry.”
The girls’ expressions remained skeptical, all except for Belle, who regarded Jo with a soft smile. A wealth of meaning lay behind her twitched lips.
“That still does not change the fact the marquis is in love with you,” Holly insisted.
“In love with me? Saints no!” The smile tugging at her lips broke into a grin, then peals of laughter burst from within her, a loud silvery sound. The thought was too ridiculous to contemplate. St. Aldwyn, a notorious rake, in love.
“What is so funny about that?” Willow asked.
“Have you met
St. Aldwyn? Callous and hardened scoundrel?”
“Not so callous, I would imagine,” Belle murmured in thought. “Reformed rakes make for the best husbands.”
“And how would you know?” Jo shot back.
Her friend shrugged, unfazed. “I observe people, you learn a lot about your peers if you pay a little attention.” Belle regarded Jo through eyes far too wise. “But what I have observed is irrelevant. You’ve already made your decision.”
She had?
“But before you do make the final one, think of what you may miss out on,” Willow interjected. “A forever kind of love. The kind that lights up an entire sky, the kind that no matter how hard the storm gets, it could never wipe out the rays of sunshine you hold in your heart for one another.”
Eyes wide and unblinking, Jo regarded Willow in fascination and shock.
“Well, I’ll say,” Holly said, breaking the silence.
“I did not know you were such a romantic,” Poppy chirped.
“She does have a point, however,” Belle murmured.
Love. Marriage. Family? That may be very well, but where did her projects fit in? She could not give up on her accomplishments. But, if she did consider something more with Damien, it would require deep examination of her life and ultimately she would need to dig into her soul to pull out the courage she needed to take the chance.
Jo shook her head at their expectant looks. “Fine, I will consider it.”
“Good, now back to the matters at hand. Cousin, we will need your observant skills if we are to observe the men and the apparent danger,” Poppy said.
“I thought we decided not to get involved,” Willow muttered.
“We aren’t. We’ll just observe. Be prepared for when danger strikes, we could jump in and help.”
“And get ourselves killed,” Willow muttered.
Holly smiled. “We can only hope for such excitement.”
Willow glared at Holly while the rest of them chuckled.
“What?” Holly asked innocently.
Willow threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “Nothing! Nothing I say will change your mind once you’ve decided a course to embark on.”
“Oh stop being so dramatic, Willow,” Poppy said. “No one is going to die. This is one of those stories that end well.”
Willow looked aghast. “You would believe this to be a story? This is not a novel, it’s reality.”
“If you can tell it, it’s a story.” Poppy said, looking at Willow as if she sprouted horns.
Willow turned to Belle and Jo, a look of horror in her eyes. “You would let someone with that mental reasoning continue on this course?”
Belle and Jo turned to one another and burst out in laughter. Of course they would allow someone with Poppy’s mental reasoning to continue on her misguided path, but best not tell Willow that. Someone with her mental reasoning would never understand the reasoning behind it.
Chapter 18
Jo dragged her feet to her brother’s study, her stomach clenching with anxiety. Something had happened. Something awful. Her brother had been enlightened to her recent indiscretion, she was sure of it. How he learned the truth or what it meant for her, she could only guess at, but without a doubt, this confrontation would end in war.
It wasn’t in her brother’s nature to hold back and it wasn’t in hers to remain docile. He would try to intimidate her into submission and she would not allow him. Why must the truth always find a way to step into the light?
Her steps slowed as she neared the slightly ajar door, which would lead to her ruin. Any other time she would march up and burst through with fluid movements, ready for battle. But tonight, something warned to her to take her time, warned her not to not push, and to pick her battle wisely.
To be wise, on the other hand, had never been something she excelled at, especially in a fight with her brother. All rational thoughts flew out the door the moment he raised his voice. Almost like in the presence of Damien, only he never raised his voice. The memory of him gave her hope. No matter how bad this confrontation may get, all of it would be erased when he embraced her in his arms again.
The distinct chime of bells resounded in her head as she neared the door, warning her of danger, and she suppressed the instinct to flee. The only thing that allowed her feet to move forward was the fact she never ran from anything. Sneaked about yes, but run away? Never.
Her hand reached out to push the door open, but paused in the act when she overheard another voice.
“I don’t like you any more than you like me.”
Jo stilled. Damien. What was he doing here? Her mind raced over the possibilities of his presence. Brahm wasn’t shouting, so it gave her a dash of hope, until her brother’s next words turned her blood to ice.
“Welcome to the family.”
The sarcasm in his voice unmistakable, Jo heard a slight shuffle and the distinct sound of two men who shook hands. Bile rose in her throat and tiny prickles of unease rippled down her frame. With shaky fingers she pushed open the door, her eyes landing on her brother with apprehension, before they flicked to Damien, the accusation reflected in there as cold as the blood in her veins. Josephine made no move to enter the room.
Both men stared back at her, both with implacable masks. Yet one did not need to see the tension to know it filled the room. Their blank expression belied their stiff postures, the slight clench of the jaw, white knuckles fisted at their side. The very air felt murky and thick with emotion.
Her eyes roamed every feature, every curve for even the slightest of hints of what had happened. What had led to his?
Damien, ever the enthusiast, took a step toward her, but something in her expression must have made him change his mind for he stopped, took a step back and regarded her coolly.
“So glad you found the time to join us, Josephine,” her brother said.
Ah, there it was. The tell-tale sign of his frayed temper. With only the slight hitch of his voice, one could barely tell, but Josephine (having spent her entire life learning the labyrinth of her brother’s mind) heard the whisper of distaste in her name.
If there existed any doubt that her brother had learned of her indiscretion, it was washed away with those words. To anyone else he may appear to have received the news of his sister’s ruination in a calm and composed manner, which was why Josephine’s lips twitched. It was only the barest of twitches, but he caught it nonetheless.
The strain around his eyes increased as his face reddened to the familiar shade of purple and his shoulders bunched into knots of tension, sending a vein ticking in his neck. Ah, her dear brother, always a slave to his emotions. Even Damien took note of the not so subtle change in her brother’s demeanor and had to look twice, blinking at the sudden change.
“So it’s true then?” her brother asked in a thin voice.
“For the sake of clarity, is what true?” Jo felt the need to ask. She could not bring herself to believe Damien had informed her brother of their affair. To what purpose? Neither of them wished to marry.
“Did you jump into bed with this bastard?”
Betrayal stung, swift and painful, but with remarkable control Josephine managed to hold onto her emotions. “No brother, I did not jump into bed with him. He climbed up my balcony to seduce me and I, being but a woman with a weak soul, had no defense against such an artful rogue and succumbed.”
“Josephine!” Brahm exploded.
She stomped into the room she slammed the door shut. “Do not Josephine me! Am I not old enough to decide my own course of life?”
“How old are you?” Damien cut in, as if her age never occurred to him before now.
She shot him a heated look. “Two and twenty.” To her brother, “How did you find out anyway?”
“I received an unsigned note. Which I might add, I did not believe until you confirmed it moments ago. What in the blazes compelled you to give this libertine your virtue?”
So Damien had not betrayed her. Relief made her w
eak in the knees. “Well, for one, I assumed it my life to do with as I chose.”
Her brother’s glare turned even more heated. “You are correct in that assertion sis, it is your life. But I am your guardian. I own every right over you. And it is my decision that you will be married.”
“What? Marry him?” She pointed to Damien. “He will never marry anyone, let alone me. Besides, as I told you before, I do not wish to be bound to any man.”
“I will marry you,” Damien bit out and Jo gaped at him. Which served only to annoy him more for he snapped, “I will do what’s right by you.”
“You cannot be serious?” Jo choked out, her gaze reflecting the horror she felt. “Now you develop scruples?”
His jaw clenched.
To her brother she said, “I will not marry that scoundrel!” gesturing to Damien.
“I resent that,” Damien bit out, “I know for a fact you prefer me to be a scoundrel.”
Jo gasped at his outrageous statement, and then laughed in an odd, mirthless sound, not sounding like herself at all. “Oh I beg your pardon, you are not just a scoundrel. You’re rotten to the core.”
“Josephine!”
She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring her brother. “I would imagine anyone who ever crossed paths with him would agree.”
“I scarcely think—”
“Yes, your thoughts are scarce and few,” she snapped at Damien. Jo knew she acted unforgivably rude, but how could he do this to her? He’d known her reluctance to marry. When his face reddened at her rebuke she continued. “I hope my candor and view of your character has not upset your delicate sensibilities?”
Eyes filled with fire met hers. “This from a woman so free with her attentions.”
Jo gasped and traitorous tears welled. Desperate to retaliate, she managed to resist the urge and searched deep within for calm. “You would take my life from me.”
His hands fisted at his sides and from the corner of her eye she glimpsed her brother angle his face away. In his own way, offering privacy.
“Have you considered our indiscretions may ruin you?”
“You know very well the notion occurred to me. But then, did it occur to you when you so happily climbed through by bedroom window? Were you not the one who said we should live for the moment?”