by Regina Darcy
It had been opportune, to say the least. As if God had sent her to him.
He would do his best to ensure that the three years of their make-believe marriage were happy ones for him as much as for her. After all, they had both been through a lot in their lives, and he believed they deserved a little bit of happiness and peaceful tranquillity.
In truth, although he did not wish illness on his bride, it was perhaps easier that she was not feeling well, rather than experiencing the awkwardness of their first night as a married couple.
She would not lose her innocence to him tonight. At the thought of it, he swallowed hard. His cravat suddenly felt too tight.
He could not deny her allure and had no wish to spend an evening pretending she did not appeal to him in that way. Their contract was what it was.
Yet, a part of him wondered if, over the course of time, Josephina would not yearn for more. It was only natural to have such a wish, but he knew it was one of the few things he could not give her.
She deserved a husband who was eager to fall in love with his wife. As he had held her hand, earlier in the evening, the spark he had been ignoring since their first walk had rekindled. Fortunately, he had been able to conceal his reaction to her proximity.
His heart still belonged to a woman who was another man’s wife. He raked his hand through his hair.
His marriage was to restore a semblance of dignity to his battered heart, that was all. He had been fortunate to find a young woman who was not jaded by the artifice of the ton. Despite her title and rank, she was less familiar with the ways of the beau monde than a more experienced woman would have been.
And this made her all the better in his eyes. She was a most suitable match.
Josephina was smart, and doubtless accomplished in her own way, even if she was not held to the same standard as other noblewoman. In fact, he found it better that she was not.
Her father had been derisive in his description of his daughter, an attitude which had roused Joshua’s naturally chivalric instincts.
For the most part, Lord Huntington had contained his contempt for the female members of his family during the wedding luncheon, except for a remark or two which Joshua had done his best to nullify without being obvious in the effort.
Yes, he had wanted to do more, for Josephina as well as her family. They all deserved better than Lord Huntington, and his contemptuous remarks, but he had not wished to cause a scene. Not at his own wedding.
It would be a pleasure, he thought, to play brother to his wife’s sisters.
Attending the refined girls’ school where the daughters of the aristocracy went to receive their education would be good for Sylvia and Maria, who were naturally gracious and dignified, despite their youth.
They would meet other young ladies of their class, and Joshua intended to see to it that they were attired in a manner which would make them equal to the other girls. He would provide for the cost as part of Josephina’s allowance, and he knew that she would eagerly be generous with her sisters.
The thought provided him with a strange sort of comfort and delight, the prospect of being able to help Josephina’s sisters brought him a sense of pride that he had never experienced before. At least never in such a manner. And he knew he could not have picked two more deserving protégés.
As soon as they had seen him, the two young women were bubbling over with gratitude and joy, tears springing to their eyes as they beamed proudly at him, acceptance lingering in their every word and action.
But according to Josephina, sending them to the Academy was not the reason they had accepted him so readily. Indeed, she had insisted that they found him to be kind and good before they ever learned of his generous nature.
His lips turned up in a smile as he realised that he would likely have to insist that Josephina be equally generous to herself. He would tell her that, as his wife, she needed to fulfil her position with an ample wardrobe.
Suddenly, he realised that, because she had not felt well, he had not given her the wedding present he had chosen for her. It was a pearl necklace on a golden filigree chain, very simple and precious. He did not think diamonds were right for her; she was better suited for classic jewels which complemented the purity of her beauty. It was a beauty highlighted even as her chest rose and fell evenly, her face looking far more vulnerable as she dreamt, twitching slightly before she went completely still.
He would give it to her tomorrow, he decided. For now, the hour was getting late, and she needed to be brought to her room. He bent down and lifted her up in his arms. She was very light to hold. Her scent of jasmine and lilies enveloped him.
He swallowed hard and reminded himself for the fourth time that day, that this was only a contract marriage. Theirs was a mutual benefit that did not involve emotions or the physical side of marriage.
Josephina stirred, then awoke looking puzzled. Her soft eyes were unfocused, and her hair was slightly dishevelled. For a few seconds, she looked around in confusion before recognition flared in her eyes, and a blush stole across her cheeks.
“I’m taking you to your room,” he said softly so as not to rouse her from the slumberous drowsiness. “Mrs Barkley will help you. You shall sleep well, and tomorrow your sisters will visit you.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
“That will be nice,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
“Yes,” he replied in a slightly strained voice. “Very nice.”
Slowly, he carried her up the stairs, her head resting against his chest, the soft thudding of her heart echoing in his own ear as he tried to be as gentle as possible. He was eager not to arouse her as he moved down the carpeted hallway, past the paintings on the wall, soft light dancing across them.
She did not wake up when he carried her into the room that was set aside as her bed-chamber. Gently, he placed her on the bed.
Mrs Barkley would help her undress and get her into bed. In the meantime, he hoped the room was to her liking. Granted, she was used to far more modest surroundings, and a bedchamber of her own would seem marvellous come morning, but he did hope she would see to it that it reflected her own taste.
He bent down and kissed her tenderly on her forehead. She did not awaken but continued to lay there like a sleeping princess in a fairy tale awaiting a prince whose true love would break the enchantment.
His stomach dipped in response as she sighed in her sleep, a soft smile lighting up her features. Then he cleared his throat, drew back and turned away, crossing to the door in two strides.
Joshua was not that prince, but while she was his wife, he would do his best to keep the evil away.
Dear Tabitha,
By now you will have heard of my engagement and subsequent hasty marriage. I wonder if the news will prove a torment to you or be just another confirmation that the decision you took was the right one.
Be that as it may, at the end of this eventful day, you are the last thing in my thoughts.
I pray you do not think me callous for not being solely focused on my bride.
She is, without a doubt, lovely.
Lovelier than I deserve.
I do not regret our marriage arrangement. Being with her dispels this infernal loneliness I have been experiencing.
Her youthful joy, warmth and generosity have melted some of the ice I was sure my heart was encased in.
Ours will be a good marriage for however long it lasts…
I must confess that I have not been completely truthful, and there can be no artifice between us.
I cannot lie to myself on these pages, even if you shall never set your eyes on them…
I feel something for my bride. I would not call it my undying affections, but there is something there. Slow burning, waiting to pounce on me should I dare to be caught unawares.
It is nothing like the passionate flames I felt for you the very first moment we met. No, this is more like a smouldering fire…embers in a fireplace.
Only in this let
ter can I admit to you and myself how I worry that in all her innocence, Josephina will be able to fan those flames into an inferno.
I have already lost my heart and had it shatter once. I will not let a slip of a girl capture it. Even if I am married to her.
I should pour soil on those embers so that they may be extinguished and my heart may yet again be safe from the fickle nature of love.
Forever yours,
Joshua A Hendrickson
SEVEN
“But I am very well, I assure you, Mrs Barkley,” Josephina protested, laughing when the housekeeper knocked on the door the following morning with her breakfast on a tray. “I am quite able to rise and eat in the dining room.”
“You’re a married lady now, ma’am, and married ladies take their breakfast in bed. And as you’ve just been ill, Mr Hendrickson was most particular that you not be rushed into household tasks. I’ll be up at lunchtime, and we’ll go over the menus. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just use the ones I did last week. That leaves time enough for ma’am to plan the holiday feast coming up.”
Josephina’s smile wavered as she sat up straighter, the appetising sight of food diminishing ever so slightly at Mrs Barkley’s words.
The kind-hearted housekeeper looked astonished by the alarm in the young mistress’s great brown eyes.
“Mrs Barkley,” Josephina said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I must confess to you what I would not willingly tell anyone. I know practically nothing of running a household, particularly one such as this. I am—I am country bred, you see, and we . . . we do not live in splendour.”
Mrs Barkley pulled a chair next to the bed.
“There’s nothing to it, ma’am,” she assured her. “You and I will go through it together, and there’s no one to say whether it’s an old menu from last week or a new one we’ve come up with.”
“But Mr Hendrickson’s friends will think me a country bumpkin, and I would not for anything cause him shame.” Josephina muttered, her voice filled with shame and embarrassment. How she wished she had more time to get her bearings, to prepare as she would for a long and arduous task. But she did not know up from down in her new house, and the last thing she wanted was to make Joshua regret agreeing to her offer to begin with. She did not want him to think he had made a grave error, that he had rushed into something he would most certainly regret.
He deserved more, he deserved better, and she would do her utmost to make sure she put her best foot forward. She would not give anyone cause to raise their eyebrows and snicker behind their napkins.
Thank the Lord, she already had an ally in Mrs Berkley, a tall yet stout housekeeper with kind brown eyes, and wisps of white in her dark hair. There was a maternal air about her as she adjusted her apron and regarded her with kindness and compassion.
“Why, Mr Hendrickson’s friends are just glad that he’s taken a wife, ma’am. They’re as good at heart as the master himself, and you’ll soon find yourself at ease with them, see if you don’t.”
“I am not well accomplished. I do not play the pianoforte or sing. I only have rudimentary Latin, and my French is barely passable. My father does not believe in educating daughters, you see. I shall not be able to carry on a witty conversation with his fine friends,” Josephina continued, traces of misery in her tone. She appreciated Mrs Berkley’s optimism, and the effort she was making to ensure the mistress of the house felt at ease, but it did not change the facts, much as she wished it would.
She had awakened that morning in a strange room, in a bed that was not her own, and at first, she had wondered what had transpired until she remembered that she was a married woman now.
A married woman for three years.
The wedding had been somewhat of a blur; a phantasm concocted out of Joshua’s immense thoughtfulness and the onset of her cold. She remembered his consideration as he had seen to her comfort in the drawing-room. She had a faint recollection of being carried in his arms to the bedroom where she was now, and she remembered feeling a remarkable sense of tranquillity all around her.
But with the morning came the awareness that she was now Mrs Joshua Hendrickson, and for the next three years, she had an obligation to pretend to be a married woman. In public, she was expected to present herself in a certain way.
While she was certain Joshua would offer his assistance in whatever way he could, there were matters only she would be able to discern for herself by watching and learning to emulate the ladies of her entourage.
“Oh, if that’s all . . . ma’am, most folks like to talk more than they like to listen, if the truth be told, and you’ll soon find that if you’re in conversation with any of them, whether it be a fine lord or one of Mr Hendrickson’s artistic friends, you’ve but to gaze upon them with those big eyes of yours and they’ll think you the wittiest woman in England. For in your countenance, they shall see a reflection of what they want to see. I’ve seen Mr Hendrickson do the same, listen and nod and smile, and the chap leaves thinking himself a veritable sage. This is a gracious house, ma’am, you’ll find it so, and I can tell that you’re of the sort will make it more so. Mr Hendrickson is wise beyond his years. He’d not have chosen you for his bride if he didn’t for a certainty know that you’d bring joy to his home.”
Mrs Barkley was very kind, Josephina thought as she sipped her morning tea and ate the buttered toast that the housekeeper had served. Her words brought a flush to Josephina’s cheeks, and she found herself taking pleasure and comfort in the notion that somehow, she could perhaps succeed.
Mrs Berkley did not know the circumstances of the marriage, but this did not diminish the impact of her words.
Josephina’s sunny nature gradually began to assert itself, thanks to the good woman’s encouragement. She would do the best she could to add to the joy of the home, as Mrs Barkley had said.
She was lost in her own thoughts when the knock on the door interrupted her reverie.
“Come in,” she called.
It was her husband.
“Good morning, Josephina. I’ve come to see how you are feeling. Mrs Barkley tells me that you are looking much improved and that she has never seen someone recover so swiftly from a cold, a recovery she attributes to the dash of whiskey that she puts in the tea she serves to us when we are ailing. I see that she has not exaggerated; you are looking quite yourself again.”
“Oh, I am entirely well, I assure you, sir—have I said something wrong?” she asked anxiously as his lips slowly curved into a smile.
“We are married, my dear, and for you to address me as ‘sir’ makes me feel quite the old gaffer.”
“Oh,” she replied in confusion. “What shall I call you?”
He burst into laughter.
“Will my name not serve?”
“Oh,” she said again. “Yes, I—yes, Joshua,” she said.
“Joshua,” she repeated, for all the world like a schoolgirl learning her lessons.
She blinked at him, feeling self-conscious as she sat there in her nightgown, with a tray next to her, and crumbs on the front of her chin. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter, attempting to look dignified with her hair tumbling down her back, and the blanket lifted up to her shoulders.
“Joshua and Josephina,” he said. “We share a letter.” Some fleeting emotion crossed his face. But when he looked back at her, his expression gave nothing away. “If you are well enough, then I should like to take you and your sisters to the dressmakers. You need a wardrobe suitable for a married woman, and your sisters will need attire for when they go away to the girls’ academy.”
“Father has never provided funds for that,” she replied in shock. “My sisters and I share one another’s wardrobe. He had a new gown made for me when we came to London, and that’s what I wore for the wedding, but he would not waste money otherwise.”
“It is not wasting money to adorn the Darling girls,” he said, making a play on their last name. “I’ve never had sisters, and I’m of a humour
to be an indulgent brother. And husband. Your lady’s maid will be coming at week’s end, and you must have clothing for her to tend to or what will she have to do?”
Josephina stared at him, unable to believe his good nature, and her good fortune at having found such a man. Not only was he willing to treat her as if she were truly his wife, providing her with the means to outfit and adorn herself to her heart’s desire, but he was also keen on making sure her sisters benefitted as well.
In that moment, she felt incredibly lucky and sent up a quick prayer of thank you for being blessed with such a man.
“I’ve never had a lady’s maid,” she said. “I shan’t know what to do.”
“You will simply put yourself in her hands, and she will do it all,” he said. “Your sisters will be coming over here this afternoon, and if you are feeling well enough, as I can see that you are, we shall go shopping. I am told that ladies are exceedingly fond of shopping.”
“I cannot say, si—Joshua, for we never go. Mrs Widdoes ordered my dress for my wedding.”
Joshua frowned for the briefest of seconds when she said this, a gesture so quick she would have missed it if she had not been looking at him. But, his smile was quick to his lips. “Mrs Widdoes will not be accompanying us,” he said. “I am brother to you sisters now, and they need no chaperoning if I am present. And you are a married lady, do not forget. Josephina . . .”
“Yes?” She leaned forward.
“Do not forget that you are a married lady,” he repeated soberly. “You need not put up with bullying or scolding now.” Then he grinned. “Except from me, of course.”
She laughed at the thought of Joshua scolding her.
“I shall especially not put up with it from you!”
“There’s the spirit,” he approved. “I shall send the carriage for your sisters.”
With that, he turned around and left, leaving her to Mrs Berkley’s steady stream of chatter, filling her in on everything she needed to know about the house.