The Smithfield Market Romances: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset

by Rose Pearson

  Josephine saw Gillian nod, her eyes drifting back to where Francine began to rest heavily against the pillows.

  “Mayhap you would be best remaining here, Gillian,” Lord Dunstable suggested tenderly, seeing his sister falling asleep. “I will help you, Josephine, with whatever it is you need to do.”

  She lifted one brow, trying to push away the feelings of affection that had begun to trouble her so much of late. “I need to cook and bake, my lord. Are you truly willing to attempt such a thing again?” She saw the corner of his mouth tip upwards, recalling how ineffective he had been in his efforts to help her bake a meat pie and apple pie some days ago.

  “I can wash the utensils and the like,” he suggested, offering her his arm as though she was a rich lady whom he was taking for a short stroll. “Or I can make some tea. I am sure Gillian would like some, if you do not?”

  The maid blushed and nodded and Josephine, having no other recourse but to accept his arm, did so at once. Lord Dunstable led her from the room, chatting amicably all the way as they made their way down the servant’s staircase.

  “I do not think I shall ever take my staff for granted again,” he said, as they reached the kitchens. “Gillian, Jones and the footmen who have remained will all have a decent increase in their wages, I think. In fact, I may raise all of their salaries, but give Gillian and Jones a little more for their devotion and dedication.”

  She smiled, finding him to be a most generous man. “I know that would be greatly appreciated, my lord.”

  Lord Dunstable made to say more but was interrupted by the butler, who appeared out of nowhere to hand him a letter. He then took the tea tray Josephine had been preparing with the promise to take it to Gillian. Josephine could see the weariness on his face and pressed him to remain with her and take a few moments of rest, adding another teacup to the tray. Lord Dunstable muttered something under his breath, his eyes on the letter, and Jones melted away at once, leaving Josephine feeling a little ill at ease.

  “I will leave you, my lord,” she murmured, making for the door of the kitchen. “You will want to read this alone, of course.”

  His head shot up, his eyes fixed on her. “No,” he replied, with a good deal more firmness than she had expected. “No, indeed, Josephine. You are to stay. It is only a letter from a friend.”

  Breaking the seal, Lord Dunstable unfolded the letter and began to read, leaving Josephine feeling as though she were intruding, even though he had insisted she remain. Forcing her attention to the task at hand, she found all she would need to make yet more apple pies, knowing that Lady Dunstable and Miss Peters would enjoy the sweetness. Lord Dunstable would need something to eat for dinner too, of course, along with the rest of them, which meant she would have to get Gillian to help her make some kind of stew with whatever they had left in the pantry. Josephine was glad that she would soon be receiving a little more help in the form of the footmen, since they were both now recovering. The rest of the servants would be able to return soon, just as long as the fever did not touch anyone else. Silently, she sent up a prayer of thanks that she had been protected from the fever, although her heart still mourned the loss of her parents. A small smile touched her lips as she realized just how much of a healing had taken place in her own heart whilst she had been working here at the Dunstable estate. Lord Dunstable had done more than he knew, in working alongside her. There was a friendship, a kinship, growing between them and it was this that brought a joy to Josephine’s heart.

  “I should have expected nothing less.”

  Her eyes darted to Lord Dunstable as he scrunched up the letter in his hand, before slamming it down hard on the kitchen table. She jumped with surprise and looked away, her cheeks darkening red as she tried not to look at him. Whatever had been in that letter, it was obvious Lord Dunstable was not particularly happy about the contents.

  “Foolish woman!” Lord Dunstable muttered, darkly, sweeping one hand through his hair before leaning both hands on the table, his head drawing low as he drew in a breath. “There is no good reason why –”

  Josephine cleared her throat gently, wanting to remind him that she was still present in the room. It was obvious that Lord Dunstable was deeply troubled by his letter but she did not want him to say more than he ought in front of her.

  “My apologies, Josephine,” he said, after a moment. “I am just a little upset.”

  She arched one eyebrow. “I can see that, my lord,” she replied, with a small smile. “The sole reason for my interruption was simply to remind you of my presence here, when it is obviously a very private matter.”

  He snorted. “It is not of a particularly private nature,” he muttered, standing up and looking down at the crumpled up note that now lay on the table. “There is a friend of the family that shows no concern for my mother or my sister and that troubles me greatly. To have someone I thought at least cared a little for those I hold dear write to me in such a fashion has deeply upset me.”

  She held his gaze for a moment, seeing the lines of fatigue and frustration on his face. “I am sorry, my lord.”

  He did not look away, his expression growing all the more intense as they stood together in the kitchens. “You need not apologize, Josephine,” he rumbled, moving a little closer to her. “You show more compassion to my mother and sister than those I would have considered to be my friends. You have toiled in your efforts to bring them back to full health and strength, giving up so much of yourself in order to do so. You cannot know just how much I admire you.”

  Her heart leaped in her chest. Admiration? This was not something she had expected to hear from the baron, not when she was nothing more than a street beggar!

  “You are quite remarkable, Josephine,” Lord Dunstable continued, putting one hand on her shoulder in what she thought to be a gesture of support. Her heart began to hammer violently until she was sure Lord Dunstable would be able to hear it.

  “I do not think I will ever be able to find another living soul with such heart, such compassion, such tenderness, and such strength,” Lord Dunstable finished, his blue eyes darkening just a touch as he looked down at her. “I do not think I can let you return to London, Josephine. Not yet.”

  She licked her lips, suddenly nervous, finding herself moving a little closer to him as though to encourage his nearness. She did not know what it was he meant and certainly didn’t have the courage to ask him. He was standing so close to her now, standing with such a deep intensity in his gaze that she found herself almost burning with a fierce and unexpected heat. Her whole body was frozen in place, her apple pies forgotten as she looked up at him.

  “Lord Dunstable!”

  The sound of the butler’s voice seemed to jolt Lord Dunstable back to the present and Josephine felt his hand lift from her shoulder, sending an unwelcome chill all through her.

  “Lord Dunstable, some of the staff have returned!” Jones exclaimed, his eyes bright as he looked from Lord Dunstable to Josephine and back again. “We have three maids and the cook, as well as the groom, the stable boys, and two more footmen. They are all standing outside, waiting to hear whether or not they can return to the house, my lord. The news of Lady Dunstable and Miss Peters recovery must have spread!”

  Lord Dunstable’s face lit up with delight, his eyes widening just a little as he looked back at his ever-faithful butler. “Returned, you say?” he said, walking towards the servant's entrance. “Then come, Jones. Let us greet them all and welcome them back to the estate. Their presence here will be most welcome!”

  Josephine watched him go, her eyes unable to lift themselves from his form until he walked out of sight. Confusion and nervous anticipation ran through her. She did not know what it was Lord Dunstable had intended to do – if anything – but the way she felt about him was no longer able to be hidden. Her heart was flickering with affection and longing, which she both hated and accepted. To care for the lord of the house was ridiculous indeed but regardless of that, there was a hope lingering in her
heart. He had not stepped away when their gazes had locked, he had not taken a step back when she had moved a little closer. Instead, he had seemed to welcome it. What did that mean? What could it mean? Or was she letting her foolish heart fill with dreams that would never come to anything?

  10

  Three days later and Gideon felt as though everything was slowly returning back to normal. His mother was now able to come down to the drawing room for a short part of the day and his sister, now free of the fever entirely, was able to sit by the fire in her room. Josephine had promised her that she could come down to the drawing-room herself tomorrow, once she had garnered a little more strength.

  He rubbed the velvety nose of his stallion, Hunter, and smiled to himself. Josephine was the best of women, for she had worked tirelessly and unendingly in an attempt to bring about this now happy situation. He could not thank her enough for what she had done, finding his thoughts almost always turning towards her. They had grown rather close these last two weeks and he found his heart a little painful at the thought of her returning to London.

  A sudden weakness rushed through him and he was forced to hold onto the stable door for a moment, his eyes closing tightly. Evidently, he was not the only one who required a little more rest.

  “Are you all right, my lord?”

  He opened his eyes to see one of the stable hands looking at him with concern, although Gideon noticed that the man kept his distance.

  “I am quite well,” he said, firmly. “Might you saddle Hunter? I thought to take a short ride this afternoon.”

  Hunter, as though understanding what was said, tossed his mane and whinnied loudly, making Gideon laugh.

  “Of course, my lord,” the stable hand chuckled, going in search of a saddle. “If you’ll just give me a minute or two.”

  Gideon nodded. “Of course.” Making his way outside into the weak afternoon sunshine, he leaned back against the stable wall and let out a long breath. The letter Georgina had written him was still lingering in his thoughts, even though he had done his best to push them aside. Georgina, so foolish and so selfish, had struck his heart another blow, to the point that he was now considering their future together with great solemnity.

  The truth was, he did not want to marry Georgina. She was vapid and disinteresting, caring only for how she looked and what gowns she wore. The way that she had turned her back on not only himself but on his mother and sister had torn at his heart, for she had not so much as expressed even a single hint of interest in how his family fared.

  When he had written to her to inform her that the sickness was leaving his house and that the servants had returned, he had received nothing more than a short, rather curt, reply. She was still in London, it seemed, keeping away from all those who were ill with the fever. For whatever reason, her father had not yet sent her the carriage – which, Gideon considered, might have been because her father had not yet returned home. Thinking that his daughter was safe with Gideon, he might have lingered a while on his return to his country seat. There were plenty of inns and the like, which could entertain a gentleman for some days if he so wished. Regardless, Georgina was still in London and yet, despite the fever raging in the streets, she did not wish to see him. Rather unkindly, she had stated that even if there was a hint of fever in his household, she would not venture anywhere near. There had not been any exultations of delight over his mother and sister’s recovery, had not so much as mentioned how glad she was that Josephine had been able to bring about such a strong recovery. No, all Georgina cared about was her own safety and her own health. She had not even asked after his own health, had not once considered to see how he fared in all of this! Compared to Josephine, who so often sought him out simply to ask how he was feeling so that she might assist him in any way she could, Georgina’s selfishness burned brightly.

  It burned away his thoughts of marrying her, realizing that he could not do so now. Not when it was so clear that she felt very little for him, and he felt nothing for her. Gideon knew it had been the express wish of his father that he marry Georgina, but in this, he would have to fail in his duty. He could not wed someone so cold, so uncaring. To be bound to her for life would be nothing more than torturous. Even the thought of bringing children into such a union sent a cold shiver down his spine, for he did not think that Georgina would be a caring mother.

  Josephine, however…..

  His eyes shot open. Josephine? Was he truly considering having Josephine as his wife, when she was nothing more than a woman taken from the London streets?

  Why should that matter?

  The quiet voice niggled at him, forcing him to question everything he knew, everything he had once believed about marriage and suitability. Josephine did not come from a noble background or good family, and certainly did not have any sort of dowry to come with her – but she was good and kind, caring and loving, strong and determined. She gave of herself until there was almost nothing left, working hard and striving continuously for others. Did it matter who her family had been? Did it matter to his heart whether or not she was gentry?

  Gideon closed his eyes again, a long breath escaping him. No, it ought not to matter. It ought not to send him into such a dizzying conflict to admit that he found his heart considering the lady more and more each day and yet the struggle still remained.

  Josephine was not of his class, not of his ilk, and that expectation still weighed heavily on his shoulders. He was a baron, with responsibilities of all sorts, and Josephine would not know or understand what such a life was like. That being said, she did speak wonderfully well, thanks to the housekeeper who had taken such an interest in her. He could not fault her in that but still, there were so many other things that she would need to learn.

  “But could you not teach her?” he muttered aloud, as if trying to convince himself. “Could you not show her, just as she has shown you so many things?”

  His lips slowly began to curve into a smile, his body relaxing slowly against the stable wall. Yes, he could teach her what a life here was like. Yes, he could show her the responsibilities expected of a baron, just as she had taught him how to cook a simple meal, or how to mix up the medicine required for his mother and sister. She had taught him so much already and he had taken her tuition eagerly. Mayhap it was time for her to learn something new also.

  “Class be damned,” he said aloud, pushing himself up from the stable wall. He would not allow his accident of birth to set them both apart. One could not choose where one was born. He was a baron, and she the daughter of a laborer, with no-one else left in the world, and yet Gideon knew he could not be parted from her. He could not let her disappear into the ether never to be a part of his life again. Such a thought brought him a searing pain in his heart, a pain he did not ever want to truly experience. Josephine was in his heart now and he did not think that she would ever truly leave it.

  “Here you are, my lord.”

  Gideon made to stand away from the wall, only for a rush of heat to pour over him, forcing him to stagger back, one hand over his eyes. The stable hand grasped his arm, supporting him for a moment until the heat dissipated from Gideon’s bones.

  “I am quite all right,” Gideon muttered, not quite sure what had just occurred. “I think it must be the exhaustion of the last few days creeping up on me.”

  The stable hand nodded, looking a little concerned. “If you are quite sure, my lord.”

  “Quite,” Gideon replied, feeling much more like himself again. “Thank you.” He mounted Hunter easily, strength returning to him. “I’ll be an hour or so, I should think.”

  The stable hand nodded and Gideon pushed Hunter into a fast trot, letting the cool air brush over his face as he rode. His breath caught as he saw Josephine wander along one of the many paths that led through the estate gardens, seeing her idly letting her hand trail through some long grasses. Even if he had tried, Gideon knew he could not keep away from her.

  “Josephine!”

  Turning at on
ce, her eyes registered surprise for a moment before a welcoming smile tugged at her lips. Gideon found himself smiling back, his heart quickening just a little.

  “Good afternoon, my lord,” Josephine smiled, as he jumped down from his horse to stand beside her. “A fine afternoon for a ride, it seems!”

  He chuckled. “Indeed. I confess I have missed riding these last weeks.” Tipping his head, he looked at her for a moment. “Do you enjoy such things?”

  She laughed, although her cheeks darkened with color. “My lord, you forget. I am nothing more than a lowly maid and the daughter of a laborer. I confess that riding a horse is not something I have often been used to.”

  An idea caught at his mind. “Then should you like me to show you?”

  Her eyes widened for a moment. “My lord, I do not think…”

  “Come here,” he chuckled, grasping her lightly around the waist and leading her towards Hunter, who was happily munching the lush green grass of his lawn which, of late, had not been as well maintained. His body grew warm with the closeness of her, seeing her flushed cheeks and hearing the quickening of her breath. When she glanced up at him, he felt his own breath catch in his chest, finding himself captivated by her green eyes. She was beautiful, in both face and in character, and he could not help but be drawn to her.

  “Let me help you, Josephine,” he murmured, as they drew near to the horse. “Do not be afraid.”

  Her hands rested on his forearms. “I am not afraid,” she replied, her voice a little higher than before, making him chuckle. “But you will lead him, won’t you?” She eyed Hunter a little suspiciously, taking in his large size.

  “Of course I will,” he promised, holding her about the waist with two hands for a moment, before lifting her up into the saddle.

  Josephine let out a small shriek, before grasping onto the pommel with both hands.

  “You are not going to fall,” he assured her, a smile spreading across his face as she let out a long breath, steadying herself. “Hunter is an easy horse, despite his stature. Come, let us walk towards the lake.”