“I will,” Josette promised.
“I admire your fortitude,” said Mr. Egglestone in a surprising compliment.
Josette could not mislead a man who bridged the gap between herself and deity. At that moment she knew in her heart what she must do and committed to write Amy a letter of private instruction. “Yes, Mr. Egglestone. I think Amy and Edward would make a beautiful couple, and I intend to see it done.”
Her host and his wife stared back at her in surprise.
That night, Josette took her bold words to bed with her and began to think on the few attentions she had been flattered with since she had come out. Amy needed no instruction on her looks but she had never taken pains to hide her affections. How she simpered when she was gifted with compliments. It had all been to Josette's amusement until her brother's death. Now it seemed almost something to be ashamed of.
It was time for Amy Price to hold her head up high and realize her own self-worth. She did not need to play the flirt to get any man's attention. True she wasn't very rich, but she would have a comfortable income and marrying the heir of Beddingfield Park would only combine the assets. Edward would be a fool to ignore the possibilities that could support his carefree lifestyle.
Josette mulled over his libertine kisses in the library and the sudden thought that he might have treated her little sister to the same leisure shocked her right out of bed and to the inkwell. Of course she would never resort to blackmail, but Edward never needed much more than a nudge to do anything that would bring him some level of comfort.
By the low light of a burning candle, she tried to shove away an unwelcome tide of guilt. She had been intended for Edward, she suspected, well before George's accident. Since the time they were children, they had played together. As they had grown, they had shared a friendly and affectionate companionship. Was she shirking her duty to Beddingfield Park by urging her sister not to surrender hope?
Beddingfield Park, Josette realized, had been a part of her future expectations, not her dreams. Her dreams had not been any different than both George’s and Amy's. She’d wanted to explore the world, to fall in love, and someday have children just like the passel of wild ones right under this very roof. She would make a wonderful mother some day, she knew it, but practicality aside, a life of adventure held just as much appeal.
She thought of Captain Carter. According to his aunt he had found her fair, but he had found Amy all the more exciting. Could a man like him tempt her to walk away from Beddingfield Park? Her greatest virtues felt very heavy, indeed.
CHAPTER NINE
Another sermon-infested Sabbath finally faded, and Josette learned with delight that she was to accompany Mrs. Egglestone on her visits throughout the parish. The children were to be left with Manny, the Egglestone’s servant, and Josette could hardly wait to take a tour of the country and feel the spring sunshine. She took a bonnet and parasol to save what she could of her skin, but it would always be too brown to suit and worrying excessively would do no good.
They first stopped at the home of a family recently stricken with the death of their young mother. Mrs. Egglestone instructed a stew to be simmered over the small hearth while Josette tried to cheer the children with her limericks. After that somber duty, they delivered haunches of meat to two families who were tenants but did not have enough to feed themselves, and before stopping for lunch, gave a loaf of bread to a crowd of what could surely not be more than gypsies living on the edge of the woods like bandits.
Josette was not sure one driver would be enough protection should a highwayman come calling, and she wished she had at least brought Thomas' wooden sword to defend herself. She expressed her concerns when they stopped to rest the horses on the knoll overlooking the parish village.
“Does your husband ever accompany you to do your charity work?”
“It’s a responsibility I have sought and cherish.” Mrs. Egglestone waved at the pretty scene laid out before them. “I like my time with the parishioners, and it's such a pretty season.”
Josette loosened her Spencer and wished to shed it. The sun was very warm. “You feel safe then?”
Mrs. Egglestone glanced back at her man minding the horses. “I'm in no danger with Tom about. Besides, everyone knows who I am.”
“It's beautiful country here, and the people are so pleasant.”
“Yes. I never dreamed I would find such happiness.”
Josette took that to mean she was very happy in her marriage. “And this,” she nodded toward the village, “satisfies you?”
“I am completely fulfilled. And with my sister's children occasionally underfoot, want for nothing.”
Josette smiled. She put her chin to her hand and contemplated her friend’s circumstances.
“We will visit the Lovejoys after we finish our cheese.” Mrs. Egglestone took a hungry bite to accentuate the announcement. “You will not find a happier family in all of Bedfield, I must say. They have an army of children and a very small cottage, but it has a pleasant garden, and the little ones there are the best behaved I have ever known.”
“They sound wonderful.”
Mrs. Egglestone nodded, her mouth full of day old bread, but then she tossed her manners aside. “Captain Carter, you know,” she glanced back at Tom to see if he was listening to their idle conversation, “comes every quarter when he is not at sea, and when he cannot come he sends them money.” She then looked down at the hunk of crust in her hand and toyed with it.
“Captain Carter sends money to the Lovejoys?” Josette's mind scrambled back to a conversation she had once shared with Caroline. “His cousin, Miss Berclair, did make mention of it, if I recall.”
“He is a beautiful little boy.” Mrs. Egglestone patted Josette on the knee. “And well cared for.”
Josette answered nothing to this, as she did not understand Mrs. Egglestone's confidence. Puzzled that her friend would expect her to do so, she kept her questions to herself.
After a leisurely picnic, they packed up their basket with Tom's help and traveled the length of the thick road to the outskirts of the parish. There in a trim cottage, small but with cheerful narcissus peeking up from a well-tended lawn, they were greeted by a crowd of children in clean frocks.
“Is your mother home?” Mrs. Egglestone asked, and the mob led her by the hand to the door.
A little tot hung back, and Mrs. Egglestone turned to him and called, “Hello Georgie.”
The baby, not far past more than a year, tripped on his strings but righted himself and returned her courtesy with a toothy grin. He had a shock of black hair on his pointed little head and dark eyes.
All of the pieces in the Lovejoy's puzzling situation fell into place in an instant as Josette looked at Mrs. Egglestone in surprise.
The lady nodded at her before slipping ahead inside.
Josette's thoughts pierced the clouds of amazement, even as the plump and jolly Mrs. Lovejoy took the purse of money from Mrs. Egglestone with gratitude. “He's very well,” she said to Josette after introductions, then she turned her attention back to her family. One of the older girls picked up Georgie and danced with him around the room. Both giggled happily.
Good Lord, Josette thought. Captain Carter had a love child hidden right in the middle of Bedfield. If ever she had thought the Egglestone's generous and fair-minded, she could not find any fault with them now.
It explained Carter’s visits and the sharp disapproval from his Berclair relatives. His calls on Beddingfield Park had been a mere convenience indeed, a stop along the way to a most awkward matter of business. A mixture of disappointment and condescension flooded Josette's heart.
When they left the lively family, Josette thanked Mrs. Lovejoy with understanding in her eyes. She patted little Georgie on the head before climbing into the carriage and did not miss the look of jealousy on his guardian's face. Good, Josette thought with a relief she did not quite understand. Clearly the baby was loved and wanted. What more did anyone need?
; ≈ ≈ ≈
Mrs. Egglestone’s nieces and nephews kept Josette diverted during the daylight hours, so she only had to struggle with her feelings once the tallows were put out in exchange for moonlight. Alone in her little room adjacent to the children, the picture of Captain Carter in her mind now had a flaw, and she could weigh him against Edward on a more even keel. Not that she considered Carter as being attentive to her in any way, but his looks at their last meeting had been disturbing and her feelings toward him more so. They had indeed blurred her responsibilities toward Beddingfield Park and perhaps her affection for Edward.
In writing Amy, she had confided the conversations at the dinner table in Bedfield and hoped her sister had taken to heart the recommendation to show more reserve toward their cousin. This Josette hoped would catch Edward's interest, for he was never happy without constant adulation. It would be necessary to make more effort on his part to withhold Amy's affection, thus encouraging his own. Or so Josette hoped.
She missed her family quite often and her walks around the park terribly. Her time in the parish was drawing to a close. It had been enlightening and refreshing, but she was ready to return to her duties at home and guide the relationship between her sister and cousin. The Season would soon be at hand. Who knew the changes it might bring.
Not a fortnight after her visit to the Lovejoys, Mrs. Egglestone interrupted her reflections, which already assaulted by pretend cannons and the shouts of Huzzah!, were spotty at best. With children underfoot, she announced in her most formal voice, “You have a visitor, Miss Price.”
Before Josette could inquire as to whom, the children, all except for Henry clinging burr-like to her side, were swept away by their aunt calling for tea and biscuits.
The visitor for Josette was neither her mother, nor her sister, as she could only have excitedly supposed. He marched into the drawing room with a determined stride, his boots alerting her to his impending arrival at they stamped down the hall.
Josette nearly dropped little Henry from her lap.
He laughed as she fumbled with him as if he were a slippery piglet.
She could not string one word to another, so great was her surprise at Captain Carter towering in the middle of the room.
His tall form blocked out sunshine from the window that overlooked the road.
In all of the boisterous activity, she had not heard a horse or carriage approach.
He wore his plain officer's coat with three glowing buttons across the cuff. Under a rather new looking bicorn, his hair had grown long enough to be tied back in a queue. His face was fresh from exercise, but not weather beaten.
Shocked, she observed him, unable to make out his reason for coming. Then she recalled their first meeting, and her heart sank like a stone. “My papa?” she stuttered in horror and rose to her feet.
Manny shot through the door as if she'd just discovered Henry missing, and took the child from Josette’s arms with a look of apology.
Captain Carter waited until the servant fled the room. “Your parents, when I saw them last, were in good health.”
“You've been to Beddingfield Park?”
He gave a jerk of his head and she exhaled with relief.
“Amy and Edward?” she inquired.
He nodded, and she relaxed slightly.
He spoke not a word but continued to stare, his eyes a velvet green that entranced her.
“To what do I owe this...pleasure?” she asked carefully. It had been nearly three months since they had met, and she owned that the interval had done little to calm the confusing emotions his presence induced. Her chest tingled, and the palms of her hands began to feel unpleasantly moist.
As if he could bear her inspection no longer he turned to the window and studied the scene as if it were a landscape hanging on the wall.
The awkwardness of the occasion was intolerable, and Josette suddenly thought that he must have been informed she had visited the Lovejoy family and seen his illegitimate son.
“I called on your father at Beddingfield Park. Your family informed me you were here.”
“And you felt under obligation to see me, too?” She watched him bristle slightly and decided he had a speech to make and her interjections vexed him.
“I have spoken with your father,” he repeated, “and he has given me his permission to make you an offer.”
Josette's head dipped in a condescending nod, a polite action one unconsciously made when listening, but even before she realized it her eyes widened in wonderment, and her mind fumbled as her hands had with Henry at the words coming out of Captain Carter’s mouth.
He crossed the room and her breath caught in her throat, for he was searching her face to discover her immediate reaction.
Besides the tumultuous roar in her mind, Josette could not breathe. Her heart had shot off like a cannon, and it continued to hammer repetitious blows against her ribs.
Carter remembered himself, flushed and dropped to one knee. He had forgotten his hat as well, and he whipped it quickly off as if she were not meant to notice.
Josette would have laughed in distress, had not the severity of the situation completely robbed her of any movement.
“This season past has been the most painful of my career. My ambitions have been thwarted. My hopes disappointed. My character has been tested, and I have reason to inflict punishment upon myself for misgivings that have brought pain to others. On the whole, I would have been a miserable soul, had I not found my way to Beddingfield Park.”
Josette blinked in astonishment.
“I tried to put you from my mind when I first left your family. It was no good.” He shook his head with a deep gravity. “Your brother's words of your sense and goodness would not leave me. Your intelligence and courage, the vivacity of your handsomeness, I could not forget.”
At the proclamation that he thought her handsome, Josette’s mouth went dry and she thought with some anxiety that she might be sick. But her distress did not retard Carter’s address.
“The agony I have felt since the loss of your brother, the grief I have brought upon your family, upon you, has been a heavy burden. I could not have born it without hope that you would forgive me and welcome my attentions. Josette,” he whispered reaching for her hand, “my respect for you is beyond any feelings I have ever known for a woman.”
Even the woman who bore your child? She could not say the words, even as logic announced that though she had been complimented prettily a time or two, never had anyone uttered such romantic, heart-felt twaddle.
He started to speak again and she took a step back, pulling her damp hands from his strong ones.
“Captain Carter,” she managed. Her mind raced to collect her thoughts and quell the amazement. “I had no idea--”
He stood abruptly and waited it seemed, for her to be cavalier.
Her heart continued to race with the implications. He liked her. Very much. And she liked him, too.
A warm rush of heat colored her face, and she felt it. “I am flattered beyond all reason,” she found herself saying to halt his long speech. Then her mouth began to race like a carriage careening out of control to cover her surprise.
“My opinions have been harsh, and I have laid undeserving blame at your feet. I know my brother esteemed you, and that my family does as well. But I cannot,” she groped for the proper way to introduce his indiscretion, “accept a proposal of marriage.”
He paled as his hands fell loosely to his sides.
Her face aflame, she struggled to explain. “You have shown you have a heart. I've seen your little boy in the village. He is loved by his guardian and by all accounts treated well. As respectable as your family is, Captain Carter, and as admirable a service to the kingdom you have rendered, I could not in good conscious accept an offer from someone with children running about the countryside.”
She tried to look sympathetic but it was all untoward. The thoughts that he had proposed and that she had refused were swirling like a hu
rricane beneath her breast. Her hands trembled. Her knees shook. Did she truly know her own mind?
Carter’s face, having gone from bashful to intense to crestfallen, now hardened to granite. Twisting the cocked hat in his hands, he replied, “You have seen the boy, and presume it’s mine?”
Josette almost sputtered out loud but held her tongue. Of course it was his. Hadn't Mrs. Egglestone repeatedly said that he visited often, sent money, and had asked her for her confidence? Did he think she was a fool? “Your secret is safe. Please accept my apologies for having brought my knowledge to your attention.”
“I see,” he said, short and cold as ever he had been. “Then I'm sure your cousin will be happy to learn you have refused. He is, after all, so fond of both you and your sister.”
“Beddingfield Park could be in no better hands,” Josette retorted, even though she knew it not to be entirely true. Her mind cried out in protest. Did he think she preferred her fickle, inconsistent cousin? Marry Edward and be mistress of Beddingfield Park. Wasn't that her obligation should Amy fail? And what if she does not? a hopeful voice whispered.
“I should go.” Carter set his hat upon his black hair and squared his shoulders. His humiliation seemed to echo in the room.
It did not matter. She could not marry a man with illegitimate children, the captain who had lost her brother, the man who did not have the entailment of Beddingfield Park.
He moved to the door. “If I have offended you with unwelcome words, I pray in time you will forget them entirely.” He hesitated but did not look back. “Enjoy your time in Bedfield, Miss Price.” He disappeared down the hall, his boots once more echoing through the house until he passed out into the courtyard.
She heard a horse whinny and whispers in the hall, then fell deaf as tears came out of nowhere to blind her. She rubbed them out even as she collapsed onto the settee, overcome.
Captain Phillip Carter had made her a real offer. She had not had to dance and flirt, or manipulate her schedule, or agonize over her unruly looks. He had simply admired her, for whatever reason she could not name. How could he not understand her refusal? It would have required her to overlook an indiscretion he'd abandoned to a farmhouse, and let go of ever living out her days in tranquility at Beddingfield Park. She had done what was best. Certainly she had.
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