She stopped and studied herself in the reflection of the window. But that wasn't the most important thing in the world, even Papa had said so. What mattered was the pursuit of happiness. Of finding someone to love. To share life with. He had given up any possibility of advancement by marrying her mother, and together they had sacrificed to keep Beddingfield Park afloat and respectable. It seemed a comfortable life. She wanted a comfortable, happy life, too. But there would be none of that, if she did not listen to her heart and gather her courage.
The dinner bell rang and Josette heard voices moving toward the stairs. She turned and examined herself once more; large eyes, flushed cheeks. “Oh pity the vain and their mirrors!” she cried.
≈ ≈ ≈
Dinner was a miserable affair. Josette could not look the man in the eye, who had saved her illegitimate nephew, the man who had led her brother, comforted her family, and sought her companionship. She could not bear to feel even his passing glance, and could not force herself to forget the lamentable letter.
Lady Berclair drilled her nephew with queries that he answered in a cool, confident tone. He admired Caroline’s necklace that had been their grand-mama's and while his aunt was resupplying her ammunition with gulps of wine, confided in Amy that her hair seemed longer and a little more bright than when he saw her last.
Caroline would not stop passing Josette looks and just as the last course was served, launched into one of her games. “You will be escorting us to the private ball on Saturday?” she asked Carter.
Her cousin looked back placidly.
“Mother will be our chaperone, but won't it be pretty for you to accompany us?”
Carter dipped his chin in agreement then chose to look down at his plate.
“The countess will be delighted to see you,” Lady Berclair agreed. “She presses me for details about the blockade every time we meet. As if I study the naval news,” she added in distain.
Carter’s eyes flitted to Josette.
Caroline waved her hand toward her, though she might as well have stood and pointed. “Miss Price indulges in the war papers. Knows every ship and who commissions her.”
Lady Berclair, whose mouth was full of food, stopped chewing as if she'd come across a lump of gristle.
“Quiz her, Carter,” Caroline said with a nod. “Ask her, let us see, who commandeers the Sprite?”
Josette's face reddened.
“I’m sure she would not know,” Carter insisted.
Caroline beamed at her with a teasing stare.
“Wilkins,” muttered Josette, half-ashamed.
“Roger Wilkins?” repeated Lady Berclair with a sneer. “He's not a Navy man.”
“A privateer, anyway,” said Caroline.
“Pirate,” declared her mother.
Josette stared back down at her plate.
“I'm surprised she would be acquainted with Captain Wilkins,” said Carter.
Josette did not miss the disdain in his voice.
“Oh, she is,” said Caroline innocently. She grinned at Josette who rubbed her thumb over the tines of her fork and thought how relieving it would be to skewer her. “Ask her another.”
Carter cleared his throat, clearly unhappy at Caroline's demand. With a quick turn, he asked his aunt instead, “How is the Countess' dog?” And the woman nearly sputtered so great was her excitement to lecture them all on the pug’s state of health since being bitten by a rat.
Josette turned the food on her plate and glanced up occasionally at her sister to see if she shared her misery.
Amy's expression was far away. She did not seem to mind the droll discourse, though Carter's presence seemed to have brought her some measure of comfort.
They finished their meal and agreed to sit in the drawing room and listen to Caroline and her harp. After two well played pieces, Carter asked Amy to sing acappella, and she acquiesced, though quietly.
Josette stared into the fire. The room was not brightly lit and the meal had made her sleepy, but the presence of the man would not let her relax. Every nerve seemed to be on guard for his voice to query her, to criticize, to insult her in some way. She could feel the unhappiness emanating from his tall, dark form that he had come to town to share quarters with her under the same roof. She was so relieved when Lady Berclair insisted they retire she nearly ran from the room.
≈ ≈ ≈
The next morning Josette tarried as long as she dared. She asked for breakfast in her apartment and made excuses that she had not slept well.
Amy crept in and warned her that Lady Berclair had plans for them to visit the milliner for new bonnets.
Josette was quite happy with the one she had chosen at Howden’s and did not see why she would need another, but the outing would be an escape, she decided, and she presumed that Carter would not accompany them. She was right in that regard, but surprised when Molly interrupted her soon after to inform her that Millerd was waiting in the drawing room.
Dash it all, Millerd had come to call again?
“Miss Berclair says she is indisposed,” Molly informed unhelpfully. “But he did ask about your sister as well.”
Josette heaved a sigh and hoped it was only to see his friend Captain Carter and not herself.
He was waiting for her when she came down the stairs in the gown with jonquil blossoms and a green ribbon in her hair.
Amy was seated before him listening to him go on.
Captain Carter sat at a table in the corner turning a quill over in his hand.
Josette curtseyed, and Millerd almost fell over in his clumsy attempt to attend her.
Carter stood unnecessarily. It was practically his home after all.
“Mr. Millerd you've caught us ready to go out,” she said with a smile she conjured up from she knew not where. Her eyes darted to Carter who was neither in uniform nor a state of dress. Instead, he wore tanned breeches and a white tunic top open at the neck. She caught her breath and looked away. He was practically disheveled. And watching her.
“I came to make certain you and your sister would not miss the revelry to be put on by the Countess DeGrassy.
“No, of course not. Lady Berclair has already made plans for us to go.”
“And you are feeling better, dear?” he asked Amy, stuttering over the word "dear."
“Yes, Millerd,” Amy said, “I am well.” She glanced at Josette.
“I'm happy to see Carter is back on dry land,” said Millerd. He thumbed the edge of his coat and beamed at the Captain. “It's been almost dull without you here. Almost dull,” he repeated and smiled at Amy.
Josette observed this interlude with such interest that for a moment she forgot the nausea that being in the same room with Carter produced.
Amy nodded, seemingly at a loss, and Josette's ideas began to turn in a new direction.
“You have been fine company for us both, Mr. Millerd,” Josette insisted, and he beamed. “Why, we would have had to sit out some dances if it were not for you.”
He grinned at her and said, “And Edward.” Behind himself, he did not see Amy grimace.
“All the same,” Carter said suddenly, “you will not be able to keep them all for yourself now.” He smiled at Amy and she back. “Would you mind so much a dance with an old sea dog if he begged it of you?”
Josette looked quickly down at the polished floor and held her breath.
“No, Captain Carter,” Amy said and she smiled at Millerd, too. “And not with Mr. Millerd either.”
At this, Millerd's eyes glossed over and a flame of red shot up both cheeks.
Josette put a hand to her lips and tried not to think that Carter had not solicited her.
To be sure, Millerd had not intended to engage her affections. It was another's heart entirely he was so sweetly, though fumblingly, trying to capture. “I,” he stumbled, “should go.” He bent for Carter then bowed to the ladies. “I understand you were on your way out.”
“Oh,” Amy realized, looking down, “and it was s
uggested I change.” Her eyes darted toward the hall should Lady Berclair be waiting to scold her. She hurried out of the room as Millerd, too, made his excuses.
Josette sat rigidly in her chair unsure of whether to speak or simply leave. She had nothing more to do to prepare for their excursion except to fetch her bonnet and parasol.
Carter turned back quickly to the desk intent on his writing. His back was straight and proud, his silence cutting.
Josette looked down at her fingers, surprised to find them trembling. What could I possibly say? she wondered. She, who had never been at a loss for words. She swallowed and it was audible in the silence of the room.
He was intent on his letter, writing to someone who was most certainly not her. No. He had no intention it seemed, to reply to her supplication for forgiveness. Perhaps he had not truly felt the things he had said. He was a proud man, of that there was no doubt, but if he had truly been enamored of her, as he had declared, would her letter not have brought him some relief?
The scratching of the quill against the parchment in the room’s quiet clawed at her heart. She stood at last and mumbled, “My pardon,” for it was all she could think of. She did not wait to see if he replied. It then took too long for her to collect her things, and she was last once more into the carriage with Lady Berclair angrily harrumphing at her for being tardy.
≈ ≈ ≈
At the milliner’s, all Josette could think of every time she picked up a ribbon was how Carter would think she looked. He had a habit of returning her bonnets. And she had a habit of tossing them at him.
Josette did not enjoy the excursion that day or for many days after. She did not find rides in the park relaxing, for his aunt insisted he accompany them when he was home. If they walked, he always seemed to promenade a few paces behind, usually arm in arm with Caroline or Amy. Because his tone was soft and genteel when he addressed a lady, Josette seldom understood on what subjects he was conversing, and so she walked in silence trying to contemplate waterfalls and flowers in full bloom.
Where he went while he was out, she could only surmise, but she knew that officers had their clubs, unless he was making calls elsewhere, perhaps even to other young ladies. The idea filled her with anguish and drew her to her bedroom window to spy on the neighborhood until she saw him come home. She accomplished very little when he went away.
Meals were torment, for she was almost without fail always seated near him. Her food would not go down the right way and nothing settled comfortably. With him around, smelling wonderful, looking dashing, and patiently attending his loquacious aunt, she had no appetite at all.
“I must go home,” she thought to herself, and every night while the rest of the house slumbered she sought for excuses why she should return to Beddingfield Park. Nothing had come to mind that she thought would satisfy Lady Berclair by the evening of the private ball.
Josette stood over her sister's dressing table, helping her pin up her hair. “You look lovely. I think Caroline was right to persuade you to try a silver mull. See how it sparkles against your skin in the light.”
Amy stared at her wan reflection.
“You must try to be happy tonight,” Josette said sternly. “And do not worry if Edward will be there.” She bent down and put a kiss on her sister's temple.
“I am trying to be brave,” Amy said with a small smile.
Josette handed her a small container of liquid bloom. “Here use this on your pouty lips,” she said with a chuckle.
Amy turned back to the looking glass as Josette threaded a Clarence-colored ribbon through her locks.
“You have not been yourself either,” Amy accused.
Josette tried to hide her alarm.
“Don't think I haven't noticed you hiding in your rooms.”
“I haven't been hiding.”
“You don't still find fault with Captain Carter do you?” Amy looked at her older sibling with pleading eyes.
“Oh, Amy,” Josette mumbled and she tried to laugh. Instead her eyes watered, and she wiped them in horror.
“What is it?” Amy turned in her chair aghast at Josette's tears.
“It's nothing. Nothing at all.” She tried to smile.
“You still think of George when you see him, don't you?”
“Of course I do. But I,” she relented, with a sneaking look around the empty chambers, “I think of other things, too.”
“Like what?” Amy's blue eyes came alive with curiosity.
Josette slowly sank into a chair beside her. “Amy,” she began in a low tone. “I don't find anything wrong with Captain Carter at all. And I haven't for a very long time, you see.”
Her sister could only stare in surprise.
Josette breathed deeply. “He came to see me in Bedfield,” she admitted. “I'm afraid we had words. I'm afraid…” She looked at Amy and could only try to be brave. “I’m afraid I've fallen in love with him.”
“With Captain Carter?” Amy threw back her head and struck it on the frame of the looking glass. “Ow!”
“Yes, exactly. Ow.” Josette laughed a little bit.
Amy seized her by the shoulders. “You must tell him at once.”
“No.”
“But you must Josette. Don't pine away. What if he may like you, too? And what if he may not? You should tell him before it makes you ill.”
“Amy,” Josette pulled her sister's hands from her arms. “I promised you I would never wallow in uncertainty. He knows.”
“And what did he say?”
Josette tried to smile again but found it difficult. “Nothing at all.” She pressed her lips together. “He does not return the feeling, and I am completely resigned to it.” Here she hoped she looked convincing, but Amy frowned and shook her head.
“I would never think you would surrender so easily.” She put a hand to her heart. “Oh, Josette, you must not love him as deeply as I love Edward.” Her eyes suddenly brimmed over. “You would not be able to bear the loss.”
Josette hugged her to hide her own face. Of course she must not let Amy see that she did love Carter deeply, and that the loss was almost as unbearable as losing George.
“I should dress.” She patted Amy's curls and hurried out to see to her own preparations. There was little use in agonizing over her appearance though she was far more preoccupied with it than she had ever been before. Under Caroline's tutelage and Lady Berclair's eminent sense of fashion, she fancied herself in the best looks of her life, and the irony that she should care so much and it serve her so little was not lost to her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
As she was helped into the carriage, the first words Josette heard were from Caroline. “I would have worn my silk if I had known you would be in that gold mull this night.
“I'm sorry,” Josette said modestly. “I did not know it mattered.” She glanced down at the material that made her skin glimmer and eyes glow and hoped she did not show too much of her assets. “Molly powdered me until I had fits of sneezes.”
“You look very well, Caroline,” said Captain Carter coming into the carriage and sitting across from the girls.
Josette was struck dumb, but Caroline complained, “And you look like a sailor.”
He gave a chuckle that sounded forced.
Caroline seemed to sense and thus was unable to bear, the awkward air between her two friends, so she tore in to her favorite target once more. “It’s a pity we have to take two carriages. La, Josette you looked like you tripped in the garden.”
Aghast, Josette looked down at the scalloped hem of her sheer overskirt. The little roses sewn at each crest matched the bows on the bands of her short puffed sleeves. She tugged up her sagging glove over her elbow.
“Doesn't she look like a bouquet?” Caroline asked Carter.
“She looks well enough,” he muttered, and then he determined to stare out the carriage window the rest of the way.
Josette's heart trotted with the horses, too fast and uneasy, wishing Carter had ta
ken his own horse or walked or even rented a hackney.
Caroline asked if Millerd had asked her for a dance, needled Carter for any promises he had begged, and told them both that she had no intention of dancing with anyone at all but had heard there would be a wonderful punch.
“Perhaps Captain Wilkins will be there,” she said and nudged Josette with her toe.
“I’m sure it makes no difference to me,” she quickly replied.
Carter seemed to find something so interesting outside that he grew very still. Quite unexpectedly he said, “I wonder if your cousin will be there as well.”
Caught off her guard, Josette said, “Edward manages to be wherever he may find the most frivolity.”
“That will certainly be the ball tonight.”
Josette nodded at Caroline and conceded, “I won't be surprised to see him there, though he is distracted with his scientific interests.”
“Yes,” Caroline said sarcastically and then informed her cousin of Edward's new passion for the far side of the world.
He listened with casual interest then replied, “I wonder that he should want to go so far from home.”
“There is nothing keeping him here,” Josette said, and too sharply, before looking out as if something had caught her fancy.
If the carriage ride had been strained, the overcrowded townhouse made feelings between the would-be lovers positively taunt. Carter escorted his aunt inside with Caroline, then Josette, and Amy trailing behind. It was very loud and warm. Josette looked back at her sister and gave her a hopeful smile.
Millerd was loitering at a tall potted shrub as if he'd been waiting. “Carter!” He grasped his friend's hand, shook it, then walked around the trio of young ladies examining them.
“Good lord, Millerd, am I a horse?” gripped Caroline, and she strode off toward the tea room.
“You promised me a dance, Miss Price,” he said, and Josette looked to see if he meant her but he did not. “I must claim you before dinner, for I have already seen Fitzgerald, and he is with his friends who all admire you.”
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