by Regina Darcy
“No, but there will be come spring. That’s what’s so splendid about winter. As cold and fearful as it may be, it brings the spring. Always!” she announced as if this were unexpected news.
He smiled and wondered to himself how Lord Huntington managed to be so immune to the appeal of his winsome eldest daughter.
“That it does,” he agreed.
“You think me very silly,” she said. “Mrs Widdoes does, I know.”
“You are not silly at all, Josephina,” he said earnestly. “It is not given to many to appreciate God’s handiwork in the way that you do. Most of us paltry mortals go through each day as if it were our due, but you see the prize.”
Mrs Widdoes sniffed disparagingly as if she disapproved of Joshua’s slanted theology, but Josephina’s brown eyes shone with pleasure.
“Why, thank you,” she said to him, the tips of her ears turning red, and he realised how unaccustomed she was to compliments. As they continued on their walk, with Mrs Widdoes sniffing behind them as if she had caught a chill, Josephina said, “What is London like in winter? In the country, we skate and go out in the snow and then go in and drink hot tea.”
“You shall be a married lady,” Mrs Widdoes said lugubriously from behind them, “and you must needs give up your girlish ways.”
“Mrs Widdoes seems to have caught a cold,” Joshua said. “I think we had best return. Mrs Widdoes, lead on.”
“Oh, but I must walk behind you, so that—”
“I assure you, ma’am,” Joshua said, “I shall commit no violation whilst your back is turned.”
As Mrs Widdoes began to object, he held up a gloved hand sternly. “Do you think I would do anything which would cause the Archbishop to think less of me?”
“Oh, why no, of course not,” Mrs Widdoes said, mollified by mention of his ecclesiastical connection. She turned around and took off at a brisk pace. Josephina began to increase her stride to keep up, but Joshua placed his hand on the arm she had crooked around his elbow, shook his head, and smiled conspiratorially. Delight lit up Josephina’s eyes, and she muffled a giggle.
“You shall find London to your liking, I hope, even if it lacks the entertainments of the country. I have friends who will be glad to welcome us if you find yourself longing for a winter frolic.”
“Friends?” she repeated.
“Yes, friends.”
“I suppose they are very grand.”
He thought back to her father’s dismissive account of her lack of sophistication. “Some of them, perhaps, but if they are my friends, then they are kind. I have little to do with folk who are so grand that they forget we are all descended from Adam, who was but a gardener.”
“And Eve,” Josephina reminded him with a mischievous grin, “who led us into sin.”
“She had an accomplice,’ Joshua said wryly. “Adam ate the fruit, did he not?”
“Mr Ruckner says that Eve is the cause of our downfall.”
“Is that how he tried to woo you? With sermons and talk of sin? No wonder you did not accept his offer.”
She threw her head back and laughed wholeheartedly. The sunlight made her hair shine like a halo. Joshua paused.
She is truly breath-taking.
Something stirred with him. A vitriol reaction that he was completely unprepared for.
Ducking his head to flick off an imaginary piece of flint, he lowered his eyelids and took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself.
He let his gaze fall on his bride again, and all was as it had been moments earlier.
He let out a sigh.
He must have been imagining things.
He enjoyed the sound of her laughter, uninhibited and not dampened by the presence of her chaperone, or the shadow of her father looming over them.
Yes, that was all it was.
Mrs Widdoes soon turned around. Seeing the distance that separated her from her charge, she walked back until she was only two or three paces in front of them.
“You walk very slowly, Josephina,” Mrs Widdoes scolded.
“She is enjoying the fresh air,” Joshua smiled.
“She shall catch a cold and be ill on her wedding day,” the chaperone predicted with grim satisfaction.
“Then, after we are married, her maid will bring her tea with honey in it, and a hot brick for her feet. And the footman will build a warm fire for her in the drawing-room, and she will lay upon the chaise longue and be entirely idle.”
“Idleness, Mr Hendrickson, is when the devil comes calling.”
“The devil is not admitted to my home, Mrs Widdoes,” Joshua answered her solemnly. “I am very strict as to which callers I receive, and I assure you that if the devil is not granted admittance, he goes elsewhere.”
Mrs Widdoes seemed to sense that she was being reprimanded. Because it was rather a new experience for her, as she was accustomed to being the one administering the reprimand to Miss Darling, she merely frowned and warned that a bride with a red nose on her wedding day was not a promising start to a marriage.
They were silent on the rest of the walk, except for when Joshua’s long-legged gait moved too soon upon the hem of Mrs Widdoes’ cloak, causing her to turn her head and glare at him as he gave a smooth apology. She was obliged to walk a little faster in order to escape his boots, and the rest of the walk took on a comic note as she tried to stay behind in order to listen to their conversation while attempting to dodge the inevitable result of his pace.
***
Josephina managed to keep her giggles somewhat concealed, but nonetheless, she found it a most exhilarating walk. Mr Hendrickson was delightful company, both in the way he conversed and in the way he treated her as if she were his equal, not his inferior.
He treated her with a warmth and kindness that she was not entirely used to when not in the company of her sisters, something which she disclosed to her siblings later that evening when they sat down to supper.
Father dined at his club, Mother took a tray in her room, and the servants, after serving the meal, left the room, perceiving no purpose in waiting on three young girls only one of which was out of the schoolroom.
“He’s quite handsome, Josephina,” Maria said. “Sylvia and I were peeping down from the staircase to see as he called for you, and he’s a veritable prince.”
“Handsomer,” from Sylvia, who had seen the Prince Regent once when he passed by in an open carriage and was not impressed. “You are so very lucky.”
“And so shall you be,” Josephina said. “Father has agreed to send you to school.”
The girls stared at their sister in disbelief.
“He would never agree to that. He hasn’t the money, and he does not think girls need to be educated in any accomplishments.”
“I am assured by Mr Hendrickson that this is so. Mr Hendrickson has prevailed upon Father to remain in London over the holiday season and not return to the country until it is time for you both to leave for the Academy. Also, he wishes all of you to come to his house for Christmas Day.”
“Truly?” Maria asked.
Christmas, because of their mother’s assortment of illnesses and their father’s distemper, was usually a dismal affair.
Every year they followed the same routine. They went to church in the morning, came home to Christmas luncheon, a meal served along with Lord Huntington’s dismal narrative of how much the roast goose had cost, and ended with the opening of their presents. Those were always a book of sermons so that, Lord Huntington said, they would cease to be flighty girls and consider their duty to God and their father.
The girls always managed to make presents for each other in order to retrieve some jollity from the day. Even if the presents were very ordinary, they were appreciated because they were joyfully given and received. Now, with the promise of a grand Christmas on the horizon, in the company of an honest and kind man, Josephina felt the kernel of hope inside her heart begin to blossom and take on a new form.
SIX
Mrs Widdoes
’ prediction proved sadly accurate. Because of daily strolls in chilly weather, and on her wedding day, Josephina was assailed by a cold which left her sneezing throughout the service. Her father glared at her and then at his wife, as if by marriage his daughter had absorbed her mother’s maladies. But Joshua was not at all impatient or cross, and after the wedding luncheon, he said that it would be best if he took her home at once so that she could rest.
“May we come to see her?” Sylvia asked timidly as Joshua helped Josephina on with her coat.
“Of course you may. By tomorrow, she will be feeling much better, I am sure, after she has had some pampering and rest, she will be eager for company,” he assured Sylvia. “My lord, you will see that my wife’s belongings are ready to be delivered to our residence so that she will have her familiar things around her?”
“Yes, of course. They’re already packed. You could take them now if you had room in your carriage.”
“I’ll send a footman over this afternoon,” Joshua said. “My servants will take care of everything so that Josephina will not be in the least uncomfortable.”
In the carriage, he bundled Josephina in a thick blanket and let her lean against him as they travelled to his house.
“I’m very sorry,” she said.
“Sorry? For catching a cold?” Joshua laughed. “There’s no reason to apologise. It is unfortunate, that is all, but you are young and healthy, and we shall soon have you well. If you are still unwell in the morning, I shall send for the physician, but I am confident that if we only let you rest and ply you with tea, you shall feel better.”
More familiar with her father’s brusque disapproval of illness, Josephina was rather surprised when they arrived at Joshua’s house and he proved the truth of what he had promised when they had gone walking in the brisk air. He carried her inside, and the servants, gathering in the entrance to welcome the new mistress, thought their master was performing the traditional carrying over the threshold.
They applauded her arrival. Josephina lifted her head from Joshua’s chest and realised that the accolades were for her. “Oh, but . . . I must . . .”
But Joshua would not put her down. “Mrs Hendrickson has caught a cold and must be made comfortable,” he said. “Mrs Barkley, will you see that the chaise is made up in the drawing-room so that she may rest? Albert, please build up the fire for warmth? Fanny, please bring up a pot of tea for my wife.”
“Shall I bring up some of Cook’s cakes, too?” Fanny asked.
Overwhelmed at the outpouring of generosity, and the warm welcome, Josephina hardly knew what to do with herself. She offered them all a bright smile, hoping it conveyed her gratitude and sincerity.
“Are you hungry, my dear? You ate very little at the luncheon.”
Josephina shook her head. “No, but thank you,” she said. “I am sorry to put all of you to so much trouble.”
“Bless you, ma’am, ‘tisn’t a trouble at all,” exclaimed the housekeeper. “’Tis a pleasure to have a mistress in the house. We’ll have you feeling fit in no time, you’ll see.”
“I am sure of it,” Josephina said cheerfully.
Despite the stuffy nose and the watering eyes, she was, Mrs Barkley declared when the servants were in the kitchen, a lovely bride. She was perfect for Mr Hendrickson, who deserved a good wife after that sad business with the Viscountess.
Josephina was entirely unused to being coddled. When she found herself reclining on the chaise which had been brought closer to the fireplace so she could better enjoy its warmth, with a tea tray on the table at one side and a towering candlestick on the other so that she would have light if she wished to read or sew, she felt as if a great fuss were being made over nothing.
“It’s only a cold,” she protested to Joshua, who had pulled a chair near to her side. “I am not ill.”
In fact, she was feeling much better and wished to take a tour of her new home, with Joshua by her side in order to get better acquainted with the way of things. Josephina knew she was not at all what polite society had envisioned for a man of Joshua’s position, having a rudimentary education, and no outstanding accomplishments. But she was determined to make him proud of her, and not make a fool of herself in the process.
“We shall make sure of that,” he assured her, taking her hands in his. “Your hands are still cold.”
“Oh, that is nothing,” she said. “I’m quite cosy now, and they’ll warm up in no time at all.”
But he kept them clasped between his hands, which were warm and strong and comforting.
She felt tendrils of heat radiating from where their hands were touching. Delicious warmth that seemed to wrap itself around her. Confused, she considered yanking her hands back, but then she imagined how foolish it would look.
She was being a ninny. Taking a deep breath she decided to just go with it.
She rested against the back of the chaise and looked around the room, at its cheerful atmosphere. The windows faced the sun and daylight came in, splashing light upon the walls. The furnishings were not ponderous and dark like the ones at Huntington Green, and the wallpaper was a lovely cream and rose design.
“This is a very pretty room,” she said, resolutely ignoring their linked hands. “I cannot think why you should want to change it at all.”
“It is up to you whether it needs changing or not,” he replied. “I understand that ladies often like to redesign a house once they move into it, and you are free to do so.”
“I could not improve upon it at all,” she said. “It feels like home.”
And so it did. Which was very odd, she thought later on, after she had finished her tea and was dozing in front of the fire while Joshua left her to tell the footman where to put her belongings that had been delivered. The soft cadence of his voice filled her with ease and comfort, as if she’d known him her whole life rather than a few short weeks.
She was swathed in a marvellously soft knitted blanket which draped luxuriously over the edges of the chaise with ample covering for her feet. The tea had been served in a charming rose-patterned pot that Joshua told her had belonged to his grandmother. The honey, he told her, came from a farm on the outskirts of the city, where a farmer provided the household with fresh vegetables and honey from his hive. He assured her that, although she would be living in the city now, she would not lack for the bounty of the country fields.
It was odd, she thought, that he had not mentioned the peculiar circumstances of their marriage. Throughout the day, he had conducted himself as if he had married for love.
He had been kind and solicitous to her sisters, courtly to her mother, and respectful but not deferential to her father. He seemed to know exactly how to behave, no matter the situation.
She had taken her cue from him. She was sure that her sisters could not have guessed that their new brother-in-law would only occupy that role for three years. It seemed a pity considering he was well suited to the role, but the terms of their contract were clear, and there was no point wishing for something different now.
For the first time in a long time, her mother had actually taken part in the conversation, her migraine forgotten, as Joshua toasted her for providing him with such a beautiful and accomplished bride.
Josephina had heard her father’s sputter of scorn at that, but the rest of the family had ignored it. It had been a more pleasant celebration than she would have expected, under the circumstances. To her surprise, her mother had beamed, some of the colour returning to her cheeks as she had looked Josephina over. Then her gaze had swept over her other daughters, a flicker of life springing back into her eyes.
Now, she was here in this place which would be her home for three years. She was Mrs Joshua Hendrickson.
The servants seemed very knowledgeable; perhaps it would not be too horribly difficult to manage a household, she thought with hope. No one appeared surly or condescending. Her lady’s maid would be arriving by the end of the week, Joshua told her; his friend, the Countess of Gree
nville, had recommended her.
Much to her delight, Joshua seemed to have many friends, knowledgeable and otherwise. Most of them were from high society, the refined gentry of the world, and Josephina found that in spite of her upbringing or perhaps because of it, she was terrified at the prospect of having to meet them and interact with them.
She did not have the sophistication of a Baron’s daughter. Her father had refused to pay for any lessons or tutoring, so her accomplishments were limited. It did not help that what she could have learnt for no pay, such as how to run a household, had been forbidden to her. Her father often retorted that, that was for her mother to teach her. But the Baroness Huntington barely left her chamber, so her daughters were left in ignorance of how to properly run a household.
Josephina was a trifle nervous at the prospect of having a lady’s maid who would surely feel superior when she realised that her mistress knew nothing of fashion and had such a dull wardrobe. She wondered how one ought to behave with one’s maid, but then she decided this was a subject she would consider when she was feeling better. For now, she was rather tired, and the comforting calm of the room was so restful that before she knew it, she had fallen asleep, feeling as if she were floating on a cloud.
***
When Joshua entered the drawing-room, he immediately noticed that his bride was asleep. He made his way quietly to her side, adjusting her blanket so that she would be warm beneath it, and doing the same with the pillow. She looked very young and defenceless as she slept, her dark lashes making a fringe beneath her smooth eyelids. Her hair was beginning to escape from the combs which kept it in place, but the effect was a winning one to his eyes.
She had lovely, wheat-coloured hair. He smiled as he looked down upon her, thinking of when he had first seen her at the Harvest Ball, emerging from the shock of wheat like a youthful Persephone to accept a proposal of marriage that he had never made. Even then, her beauty had not escaped him, although he found little use in admiring it now, not when the terms of their contract were clear.