Josette

by Danielle Thorne

  Amy did not seem to feel the daggers Josette sent her way. She chatted quietly with Captain Carter, as if George had never existed at all. The captain’s answers were clipped and unaffected.

  Josette rose stiffly from her chair. The eggs that had been quietly placed before her were still on her plate. Her coffee was cold. “Again, please do excuse my parents this morning, Mr. Carter,” she said with an emphasis on Mr. She knew from George how offended an officer would be not to hear his title. “We are all in an upset.”

  Captain Carter rose a third time with displeasure chalked upon his countenance. “Again, for your loss,” he said, but Josette guessed from his unfathomable eyes that he wanted to say more.

  Bernard interrupted the ungracious exit with a grave announcement: “Mr. Egglestone,” he said, meaning their clergy friend and his wife. Josette hurried out to greet them as she resolutely pushed the grief down where it belonged.

  ≈ ≈ ≈

  Mr. Egglestone met with her father while his wife visited with the Ladies Price and Captain Carter. Carter stood once more facing an open window as if deaf to the conversation in the room. He had a seaman’s posture--upright with legs slightly parted and hands clasped behind his back.

  Josette studied the hem of his unlined coat and found upon close inspection that it was slightly worn, despite the new crepe armband. His white breeches did not hide that his legs were long and sturdy, so Josette peeked at his ankles to see if they were weak. She was disappointed she could not see through his polished boots.

  He inclined his head toward her slightly, and she shifted her gaze. Of course his great instincts would have warned him he was under examination. Josette bit her lip. As her inclination to be fair nudged her conscience, she reminded herself he was all but responsible for her brother’s death. If he were as great a captain as it was reported, he would have saved her brother’s life instead of taking leave to come and destroy theirs. She was determined not to like him no matter how striking his person. He had ruined their lives forever.

  Mrs. Egglestone did her best to bring comfort to them in the family’s well-used drawing room. It was a common room with cream walls and pink and red prints on the upholstery, an all together pleasant place, except for this day, there were people dressed in black. Josette glanced toward the window and noted the one exception, a hulking boar of a man ogling her grounds.

  The conversation, after proper expressions of comfort on Mrs. Egglestone’s part, Amy deftly turned toward her own tragedy.

  “I must miss the harvest dinner at the Benton’s,” she said sadly. She smoothed down the black taffeta gown she had changed into. “That wouldn’t be proper, and no one expects me.” She hung her head.

  “There will always be the next season, my dear,” crooned Mrs. Egglestone, and Amy’s head shot up.

  “Mama, you do not expect me to stay home the entire winter?”

  Lady Price said nothing, but her daughter’s petulance lit a spark in her eye. She gave a small, amused smile. “I’m sure George would not have wanted such a thing.”

  Josette snorted in disgust. She glared at her selfish sibling. “But then again you always do what’s proper.”

  Amy ignored Josette’s sarcasm by reaching for a glossy curl to twist around her finger. “What do you think, Captain Carter? What do you think my brother would have wanted for his little sister?”

  His little sister that never wrote, thought Josette angrily.

  “Your brother was very fond of a party.” Carter faced the ladies to make his pretty speech, and Josette caught herself holding her breath when he turned his attention to her.

  “I understand you play the piano-forte, Miss Price.”

  “And net and draw and ride well, too,” Josette said in annoyance.

  Carter searched her face, and she wondered at what he was thinking.

  “Side-saddle, of course.” She was not as prim as Amy, but she didn’t want him to think she was a wild thing. That would not do for the reputation of Beddingfield Park. She only wished she could ride astride like some ladies did when no one was about. George had known those kind of women. And admired them. He had told her so.

  “Perhaps I will have the honor.” Carter motioned toward the window as if two mounts were waiting outside, but his tone held no sincerity.

  “I prefer my walks.”

  “I don’t ride well at all.” Amy smiled flirtatiously at Carter. “But I’m just seventeen.”

  “I’m sure you’re a very good pupil.”

  “And a quick study,” she added. “Did my old governess not once say it, Mama?”

  Lady Price smiled again but this time with pique. “You are indeed.”

  Josette saw the fatigue her mother had been hiding. “Come, Amy, let’s take a stroll while the weather’s fair.”

  Amy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t care for your walks, Josette. They muss my hair.”

  “A walk would do you both well,” Lady Price quietly agreed.

  Amy looked desperately to Carter. “Won’t you join us Captain Carter? We can show you the grounds.”

  Carter bowed, begged the pardon of Mrs. Egglestone, and with a nod at the girls’ mother, escorted them out of doors with their bonnets.

  Beddingfield Park had not set out originally to be an enclosure. The home, almost ancient, had housed many families of the peerage but the rise in gentleman farming had allowed the gentry to inherit, thus the Price family had dwelled for two generations within the thousand or so acres of its comfortable confines.

  The trio strolled down the drive and then toward a small grove of trees that attended an open lea and stream where the Price children once played.

  “Is she a very large ship, Persephone?” queried Amy, after peppering Carter about his family home. They walked three abreast beside the trickling water and tall grasses.

  “She’s a two-masted vessel, clinker-built.”

  “Lovely,” Amy breathed.

  “She doesn’t know what clinker-built means,” said Josette, and Amy blushed.

  “I do so, I’m sure George told it to me.”

  “Clinker-built means the planks overlap each other,” said Josette.

  Amy looked at Carter for his affirmation. He glanced at Josette with curious eyes and answered, “Your sister is correct and very knowledgeable about her brigantines.”

  Josette bristled and took it to mean she knew little of anything else.

  “She wanted to join the Navy, too,” Amy giggled. “With George.” She flicked a curl back over her shoulder and straightened so that the cut of her dress was more pronounced.

  “Lud,” blurted Josette in shame and disgust. Her companions eyed her suspiciously as she picked up the pace toward a path of primrose that led into the trees. To her dismay Carter kept up, and Amy fell behind.

  “The both of you,” Amy complained, breathing heavily. “I can’t hurry along dressed as I am.”

  “Then go back,” ordered Josette, now furious her sister had given away her dressing habits. She’d stopped under a tall oak tree whose branches draped overhead like sturdy arms. “You’re free to accompany her, Carter. You looked just as fagged yourself.”

  “Refreshed, Miss Price,” he said with coldness.

  Amy looked hopefully at Carter then back at the house. “Perhaps I should have something put out for us to eat. You look hungry.”

  Carter blanched, and Josette nearly laughed out loud. “I’m sure you’ll find plenty to offer him.”

  Amy sallied off unaware the captain had not moved to follow her. Josette gave him a hard stare. “I don’t need a chaperone. You’re welcome to go.”

  “On the contrary, Miss Price. I’ve come across you unchaperoned before.”

  “On horseback, Captain Carter, riding reckless across my property.” She jumped in startled surprise when the oak’s trunk bumped her backside. She hadn’t been aware she’d been shying away from the man.

  “I cannot tell you enough how deeply it pains me to have lost your broth
er.”

  “You did not lose a brother,” retorted Josette. “I did. Your overtures of grief and sympathy mean little to me.”

  “Then you loved him as deeply as he loved you.”

  There was nothing Josette could say to this. Tears welled up, and she put a knuckle to her lip to steady herself.

  He watched with hooded eyes, a tick in his thick jaw.

  Josette whispered, “He may have loved and respected you, but I must say, you are not what I expected you to be.” A tear broke free, and she angrily brushed it away instead of reaching for her handkerchief.

  Captain Carter merely stared, evidently he would not offer her one. After exuding an air of offense at length, he said, “And I find, Miss Price, I feel exactly the same way.”

  His direct insult sent Josette into a fit of passion. The ribbons from her old straw bonnet felt like tentacles around her throat. Grappling with them, she hissed, “Go back to your ship, Captain Carter. You’ve done your duty. Go back to your clinker-built ship and sail away.”

  Finally getting the bonnet off of her head, she threw it senselessly at his feet and stamped back toward the house.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Captain Carter did not go. He retrieved Josette’s bonnet and sent it to her room. At meals he avoided her gaze, and in-between them he flattered her family with his company. Amy entertained him in the drawing room, their father welcomed him into his study. When visitors came to pay respects to the baronet and his family, Sir Robert introduced him, and the accolades of George’s service were heaped with quiet praise. Even the weather seemed to agree with him. The expected showers did not show and were chased away by sunshine.

  Services for George were the next Saturday and over a hundred people gathered at the parish church to remember him. There were as many officers and men from the Persephone as there were friends and relatives.

  Captain Carter, to Josette’s relief, did not sit with them in their pew, but he did take it upon himself to sit one row back. She forgot all about him as she fought back tears for the young man who had been her most trusted confidant.

  Afterward, the Price family was escorted to their carriage. The faces that touched their hats out of respect became a blur. They were a good sort of men, those who had sailed with her brother, even the ordinary seamen. One boy, a second year midshipman, took her hand and blubbered over it. Josette patted him uneasily. She was sure George had mentioned him, but his name escaped her.

  They rode home in silence, the clip-clopping of the horses lulling them into an exhausted stupor. It was done. There was nothing left to do but miss him forever. When the carriage pulled in front of the house, Josette was dismayed to find Carter dismounting his horse. “I thought you’d be with your men in town,” she said accusingly.

  Amy tripped out of the carriage then righted herself with a cross look down at her black bombazine. “You don’t have to leave right away do you?” Her pretty blue eyes pleaded with him to stay.

  It was fortunate for the captain Sir Robert had not yet escaped to his study. He held an arm out in a paternal manner. “Do not hurry off on our account, Captain Carter.”

  Josette blinked in surprise. Her father’s face looked haggard and his hair thinner than ever. She reached to brush a strand back beneath his wig, but caught herself.

  “Papa,” she chided, “you need rest. Hurry inside, and we’ll see to Carter.”

  Carter froze as soon as she opened her mouth. What did he expect? That she would plead with him to stay, too? How impertinent to even think so, insulting her as he had.

  He stood stiffly with the unreadable expression he always carried until Amy took his arm and dragged him up the steps behind her parents. The couple disappeared into the drawing room that beckoned with the scent of toasted cheese. Josette followed, smarting that Amy would be so haughty as to precede her into the house. She stopped at the opened doors to the study. Her father was standing at the window in a brood as Carter had done his first night at Beddingfield Park.

  “Papa?” Josette stepped lightly across the room.

  Sir Robert had a vacant look in his eyes. He seemed to study the grass turning yellow, as it faded with the season.

  She looped her arm carefully through his, and that at last seemed to make him aware.

  “Josette,” he mumbled, “you should go lie down. You need rest.” He did not say “after a day like today” but she understood.

  “I’m fine, Papa. I’m worried about you.” He smiled for the first time in many days and tenderly patted her on the hand. “You always care for us,” he said with as much affection as she had ever heard. He turned back to the park, blowing out a deep breath of air. “I never intended to let him go,” he said.

  “He would have been so unhappy, Papa. And you would have not borne it!”

  “We have responsibilities, my dear...” He trailed off then said to himself quietly, “I should have pushed harder to keep him here at Beddingfield.”

  “No, Papa. He loved the sea. He would have come back home.”

  When her father said nothing, desperation made the thoughts Josette kept hidden away tumble forth: “I’ll see to Beddingfield Park, Papa.”

  Her father smiled sadly at his reflection in the window.

  Josette led him over to his chair by the fire. She tucked a mantle around his shoulders and pushed his footstool within reach. “I’m going to rest now, too.”

  He waved her off without reply, and she knew that to mean she was excused.

  Her bed had never called to her as loudly as it did at that moment. She shed her mourning clothes and burrowed under the covers, sleeping until Hannah woke her for dinner.

  ≈ ≈ ≈

  A very subdued family gathered for their evening meal. Lady Price had every candle in the house lit, but it did little to raise their spirits. Mr. and Mrs. Egglestone, who had taken a room in George’s wing, kept up a cheerful but restrained chatter. Josette could not keep her eyes off Captain Carter and her sister. He’d warmed to Amy over the days he had spent at Beddingfield Park. At least he looked at her when she spoke, nodded appropriately, and managed to show interest in whatever direction her whimsy carried the conversation. As irritating as she found their budding camaraderie, Josette could not blame either for ruining her appetite. It was Mrs. Egglestone, who first mentioned Edward.

  “My brother’s son,” Sir Robert admitted, “will be here within the week.”

  Mrs. Egglestone smiled warmly and turned to Josette. “And he’s your age is he not, my dear?”

  “He’s some years older,” Josette informed her, feeling Carter’s eyes watching her again.

  “And do you know him well?”

  “We played together as children.”

  Amy wrinkled up her face. “He was a dirty, messy boy who loved frogs.”

  “Why, that was George,” laughed Josette, but then she relented, “but yes, Cousin Edward did his share of mischief, too.

  “He tortured me endlessly,” sniffed Amy and to everyone’s surprise Captain Carter gave a little laugh. “I’m sure he will be completely penitent when he sees how much you’ve grown,” he promised.

  Josette was going to add that they hadn’t seen their cousin in quite some time but decided not to give Carter anymore information. Besides, his deep resonant voice and small smile made her feel strange.

  “And will he come and stay at Beddingfield Park?”

  Both of Josette’s parents fell silent as if someone had slammed a door. With a look of inquisitiveness, Mrs. Egglestone repeated the query.

  Sir Robert answered unreliably, “I don’t know his intentions.”

  “Stay?” Amy asked. “Why would he stay? I’m sure we’re all out of frogs by now.” She batted her eyes at Carter, and he smiled faintly again.

  “I enjoy Edward’s company,” Josette interjected, “I hope he may stay as long as he chooses.”

  Carter did not mistake her meaning. “I take my leave in the morning. I have promised my aunt a long visit.�
�

  “As you said yesterday,” said Amy. “But I’d hoped to change your mind. Help me, Josette.”

  “I’d forgotten it completely,” Josette replied in a flat voice. She’d just attended her brother’s funeral. Was she expected to pay attention to all of Carter’s commitments?

  “I had no idea you were so fond of Edward, Josette,” said Mrs. Egglestone. She put her hand to her chest in a disconcerting manner then turned to Lady Price, confirming Josette’s suspicions that an amour was suspected. “You must find great comfort in it.”

  Before Josette could protest, Amy added, “He’s the only boy Josette ever tolerated besides George.”

  Captain Carter seemed to find this little tidbit of great interest. He straightened in his chair with a bemused look.

  “I assure you, ma’am,” Josette said as demurely as she was able, “I am not fond of him in the manner that you suppose.”

  Mrs. Egglestone’s countenance slightly fell. “Perhaps your feelings will someday change,” she encouraged as she looked about the room at the red papered walls and the elegant old chandelier. “Being that he is to inherit Beddingfield Park.”

  “Inherit?” Amy sputtered, over her soup.

  Josette jerked her head toward her father and saw reluctant acknowledgement.

  “Edward is to inherit Beddingfield Park?” she asked.

  Her mother nodded, and with a gentle stare she silently pleaded with her daughter to hold her tongue.

  “Edward will not inherit Beddingfield Park,” argued Josette, but even as she said it, she remembered it was true. The shock hit her so hard her breath seemed knocked from her body.

  “Yes,” said Sir Robert to the confused faces of Mr. Egglestone and his wife. “The estate will be entailed to Edward now that George is gone.”

  Josette heard the words, but she could not focus on anything but the slice of fowl in front of her. When she raised her eyes, she found Amy staring as if she’d uttered an oath. Captain Carter stared, too.

  She blinked and looked away. Pity from him was unbearable, though not as painful as her father’s affirmation. Lady Price continued with an explanation of their family pedigree, but Josette could not bear the scrutiny another second. She jumped from her chair and hurried out of the room.