“In case of what? You said she should not be in danger. There are four men on the premises, and I can guarantee you we are all capable of defending Miss Storm should the need arise.”
“I’m sure you are, but an extra person in hiding on the outside would possibly alert you to danger before it comes knocking on your door.”
“Fine. Make sure I meet the man, though. I don’t want to accidently shoot him for a trespasser.”
“Done. He will present himself to you. We shall get to the bottom of this.”
Marcus smiled. “Good, I’m paying you to succeed.” He stood, as did the runner.
Soon Nigel Neville was on his way from Rose Hill, disappearing into the fog quickly as Marcus watched from the front window.
Josie might be in danger. The unknown of it grated at him. He was used to his life ordered and tidy. Nothing was certain when it came to the young woman upstairs. Marcus noticed his half-smile reflected in the glass. Life had definitely become far more chaotic since that particular storm blew her into his life.
He gazed at the hazy view from his window. His lovely estate, normally shining bright and beautiful in the sun, reminded him of a scene from one of Radcliffe’s gothic novels. A mysterious attempted murder and a damsel in distress upstairs trapped against her will by fates beyond her control or knowledge. Marcus let out a bark of laughter. What had happened to him? Since when did he engage in such melancholy and macabre reflections? Josie was far from a tragic heroine of a story. She was a fighter.
Yet something sinister out there threatened, and as long as she was under his protection, he would do all in his power to keep her safe. He glanced at the mantel clock. His aunt had requested his assistance this morning. Marcus smiled broadly, and his spirit lifted as he turned to leave the room and climbed the stairs two at a time. It was never good to keep a lady waiting.
~*~
Josie woke with a start and stretched. Had it stormed last night? A damp chill in the air left goose bumps on her arms in spite of the fire lapping and crackling at the wood in the fireplace. She smiled to herself. She had dreamt Marcus had been with her during the night, reassuring her that she would be fine. She hugged the thought to herself because for a moment she felt loved, and the warmth it brought to her heart was something she wanted to savor before reality crashed in around her. Dreams of being loved and cherished by a man may be the closest she would ever get to realizing her hopes. For who would want a blind woman for a wife?
She had given up the fear she would never walk. She was determined to succeed, and Lady Grey had promised her today they could try based on the doctor’s instructions. Maybe later she would be able to visit with Marcus and his friends again. As dark as her vision was, the future held some bright spots.
Molly bustled in with Mrs. Hughes to help her dress. Once that was accomplished and her hair finished, a footman came to carry her to a chair by the fireplace and a blanket was placed over her lap to keep her warm.
She relaxed against the back of the chair. There was a time to sit up straight like a lady, but not now, when she was recovering her strength. She relished the freedom to relax. Still, sitting up was not much fun with nothing to do. She couldn’t read a book, and there was no one to talk to. It was difficult to keep positive with so much time spent alone in the darkness of one’s own soul. She shook her head at how dramatic, at times, her thoughts became.
She should recall Scripture instead. Or sing. But she didn’t want to do either of those things. For right now, loneliness was more comfortable to wrap around her like a woolen cloak. She shivered. Time crawled for her in the dark, and she grew weary and exhausted. Had she not slept well? After all, she’d had wonderful dreams, did she not?
Oh, if she could only keep the dark thoughts at bay. The fears of her future. The desire for more time with the men in this house, especially the master. She hugged Charlie close.
Molly had described Lord Remington to her, but she still could not envision his face. Dark wavy hair that brushed past his collar in the back. Dark, brooding eyes that also twinkled when he grinned. A strong chin. Tall and broad shouldered, but debonair in his posture. Molly had talked about him after every visit, even when she had not allowed him entry. The maid had gushed about the lord of the manor and how the other servants revered him.
Josie had sensed a tenseness in him at times and wondered at it. Was he uncomfortable around her? Is that why he hadn’t been here? Or was it because he had defied convention to visit her while she lay abed? A man like him could never have any lasting interest in a woman such as her. She lacked a title and wealth, the two hallmarks of any bride a titled man like him would select. She wasn’t even especially beautiful and, at present, certainly lacked a graceful walk. How would one even flirt with a fan when one cannot even make eye contact with the object of one’s desire? Josie groaned aloud at the direction of her thoughts. Foolish girl, have you fallen in love with a man you could never aspire to?
“Miss Storm, are you all right?”
Josie startled.
Lady Grey had entered the room so quietly Josie never heard her.
“I am well enough, Lady Dorothea. Why?” Josie was happy to have a real person to converse with.
“You groaned, and I hoped you were not in pain. You looked like you were somewhere else. Molly stepped out to take care of your clothes.”
Heat rose in her cheeks as she smiled. “No pain except for perhaps the fruitless direction of my thoughts.” She struggled to sit up a bit straighter. “Have you come to visit for a while? I would be glad for the company.”
“I have come to oversee your program of rehabilitation.” Lady Dorothea sat across from her now.
“That sounds dangerous. Should I be afraid?” Josie grinned.
“Never dangerous, for I have brought with me someone who will be helping you learn to walk, and he will tend to your safety.”
Josie leaned back in her chair again. “I’m at your disposal, Lady Dorothea. How do you propose we do this? I cannot see to hold on to anything or avoid tripping over my own two feet.” Josie paused. “Wait, did you say ‘he’ will help me? Who? Is someone else here? I didn’t hear any footsteps.” She closed her eyes and inhaled. Sandalwood. Oh, yes. Marcus.
“I stand more than ready to assist you.”
She heard a smile in his deep voice. Her heart sped up. Hadn’t she been thinking of him? “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”
“We shall see, won’t we? It cannot hurt to make the attempt.” Marcus lifted the blanket, picked up Josie’s hands, and bent down to place one arm under hers and around her back to help her rise to her feet.
He held her as they stood. The warmth of the length of his body against her side caused a strange skip in her pulse as she leaned against him. She turned her head up toward the sound of his voice. “It doesn’t hurt. I was afraid it would.” Her voice softened.
Strong arms supported her.
Being close to him made her dizzy. She turned her face forward and swallowed. One deep breath in and out. “I’m ready.”
“Can you move a foot forward to walk?”
Marcus’s gentle and encouraging words made Josie suspect she could fly if he asked it of her. She loved being close to him. Why did that seem familiar? Her dreams had certainly seemed as real as this moment. She lifted her right foot, moved it forward, and transferred her weight so she could move her left.
Marcus’s grip was firm even though her steps were awkward. After a few steps forward, Marcus gently turned her around. Soon they were back to the chair, where he helped her down and returned her blanket as she shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
Josie smiled. “No, thank you.” She could never admit aloud that she had shivered at the loss of his body heat and closeness, and that slipping back into her own space, separate and alone, scared her. Awe overwhelmed her at the realization of what she had done. “I did it,” she whispered, almost as if saying it aloud would bring a denial that it
happened.
“You walked,” Dorothea spoke. “How do you feel?”
Heat rose in her cheeks. “Wonderful. When can we do this again?” She couldn’t keep the eagerness out of her voice. But to walk again would at least release her from the prison of this room.
Both Marcus and Dorothea chuckled.
Josie found the sound refreshing to her soul.
“We cannot move too quickly but will make another attempt this afternoon if you are able.” Lady Grey spoke with tenderness.
“We don’t want you to overdo things and hurt yourself.” Marcus added firmly, but she heard the approval in his voice.
“I will try to be patient. What a wonderful gift you and God have given me this day.” Josie hugged herself. Her shoulders raised up almost to her ears before she lowered them and relaxed into the chair, suddenly exhausted from her limited efforts. How frustrating.
Lady Dorothea rose, and Josie heard the rustling of her skirts as she walked away. “I will leave you to visit. Molly has returned and can be your chaperone. I have some work to do with Mrs. Hughes. Josie, I am expecting you to join us downstairs for luncheon today.”
With that pronouncement, Josie heard the door open and close.Josie’s head snapped to where she heard Marcus take a seat. “Downstairs?”
“That is what my Aunt indicated, and she is one to be believed. There are three other men who will be delighted to have you joining us at the table.”
“How will I be getting to the first floor?” Did she dare hope?
“I will be your transportation,” Marcus stated.
Josie smiled. “Thank you for making this possible.”
“It is my pleasure, Josie. How did you fare through the storm last night?”
Did he know something? Had her dreaming of him become transparent? Josie’s heart beat faster. “I had a nightmare but do not remember what it was about.” She couldn’t tell him she had dreamed of him.
“I had wondered if storms would bring back any memories of the accident.” Marcus’s voice was soft as velvet.
“I had an impression of being in the carriage.” She wouldn’t tell him about the gentleman she recalled in her dream. It had only flashed through her thoughts, but she wondered if it was Marcus. Had she somehow seen him before her sight vanished? Or had her mind made up that face out of desperation? Josie yawned. “I’m sorry. This is the second time I’ve done that to you as we conversed.”
“You must be tired. Let me get you back to your bed to rest.” She heard Marcus rise but stay by her side and Molly moving around in the background. He leaned down, and she inhaled his scent again and bit back a smile. It would not do to have him thinking she was possibly falling in love over him, even though that was exactly what was happening. Strong arms lifted her, and she heard his heart beating as she rested her head against his chest. Crossing the room went by too quickly, and before she was ready to let go, he was laying her down on the bed as Molly removed her slippers.
He removed her hands from his neck, and holding one hand in his, he left a soft kiss there. As he set her hand down, she was dizzy, happy, and disconsolate all at once.
Charlie jumped up on the bed, licked her cheek, and snuggled up next to her.
“I will come for you later, Josie. Rest well.”
She heard him walk to the door and could have sworn she heard him say, “lucky dog” under his breath.
12
Marcus was pleased that Josie would be joining them for a meal. He was anxious for her because he suspected that eating without sight might make her self-conscious. They would all work to make her comfortable, but would she really be able to relax and enjoy the meal? He hoped so. It was a hurdle she would have to overcome if blindness was a permanent reality in her life. Marcus arrived at Josie’s room with a spring in his step.
From the first time he had held her in his arms, something about the experience tugged at something deep inside him. He couldn’t describe or explain it. All he knew was every time he held her next to him, whether helping her to walk or carrying her, he was needed, strong, and at least, perhaps in that brief moment, more alive.
He grinned as he strode into Josie’s suite even though he knew she would not witness it. “Your chariot has come to give you a ride to the dining room.” He observed a rosy color suffuse her cheeks.
She sat on the bed awaiting him. Molly had braided her hair and pulled it away from her face. Her dark eyes appeared wider and her lashes longer. Her cheeks were pink, and her dimple was evident.
For a moment, he wanted to keep her here away from the others. To touch her hair and taste her lips. Whoa, stop it right there. Since when have I ever been tempted like this before? He struggled to corral his thoughts.
“I’m ready, Marcus.” Her eyes dipped as the lashes came down before she gazed, unseeing, back up at him.
She couldn’t have heard his thoughts, could she? “Good, because I am hungry.” He came over and displaced Charlie, who whined at that Turkish treatment. Marcus scooped up Josie with ease. “What have we been feeding you? I declare you must have gained at least a stone since you first arrived.”
Josie playfully batted his shoulder before returning to clasp his neck. “You are horrid.” She smirked but added, “I’m not too heavy for you, am I?”
“Doubting my strength, Miss Storm?” He relaxed his arms as if he were going to drop her, and she let out a little squeal and hugged his neck all the tighter. Marcus found he did not mind that at all.
Aunt Dorothea had witnessed this byplay. “No time for games, Marcus. Let us get this young woman to the table with as much grace as you can muster.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Marcus with feigned humility, which earned him a tsk tsk tsk from Lady Dorothea. Marcus headed out the door with a grin on his face and inhaled the scent of roses. He was unaccountably lighthearted.
Entering the dining room, Marcus set Josie down in a chair seated to his right.
Michael offered her a dish with cold meat, bread, and fruit and informed her of where they were on her plate. Marcus was sad to realize she did not need any more help from him. All those days of eating alone, she’d obviously developed a system to make it a manageable task.
Lord Harrow congratulated Josie on being able to join the group. “You cannot imagine how boring Remy has been lately. We are delighted to have someone new to converse with.”
Josie simpered. Marcus scowled at his friend.
“Like you don’t have your dull days either, Theodore? There are definitely tales I could tell,” Marcus quipped.
“Boys…” Lady Grey warned.
“Remy?” Josie asked.
“We saddled him with that moniker when he became Viscount.” Theo stated.
Michael took up the gauntlet to share tales of adventures they had in school. Phillip and Theo joined in the telling of these tales while Marcus remained silent, listening and watching Josie’s animated face as she asked questions and her smile showed her amusement at their tales.
When the meal was finished, Josie asked for help to stand and requested that she be allowed to walk to the drawing room. Marcus lent her his aid, and Josie made the journey, a bit uncertainly, but triumphantly nonetheless. With great fanfare, she settled into a seat near the fireplace.
The men fought to sit near her while Marcus stepped back to watch.
“Miss Storm, would you please tell us about your family?” Sir Tidley made the request with a needling voice.
“We are nothing out of the ordinary. My father owns a modest estate, Westwood, near the village of Stone in Gloucestershire. He fell in love with my mother, who was the daughter of an Earl. He disinherited her when they married against his wishes. I have two younger brothers, one at Oxford and another still in the schoolroom, and one younger sister. My mother passed away two years ago when influenza swept through the village. That was why I did not have a season earlier. After that, it was unclear who would take me until my aunt volunteered to sponsor me along with my cousin
Hetty.”
“Which Earl is your grandfather?” Lord Westcombe asked.
“Lord Chester, but we have no relationship with him.”
“Chester? I’ve heard him speak in Parliament. He is a powerful man.” Marcus started to pace around the periphery. He couldn’t keep still. This girl was more than landed gentry. She had noble blood running in her veins. He glanced at his aunt and raised an eyebrow.
“Does your grandfather know that your mother has passed on?” Lady Dorothea asked.
“I’m not sure. We have no contact with him. I didn’t even know my aunt existed until a few months ago, when she wrote to my father suggesting I join them for a season.”
“News can have its way of getting around in the ton,” Michael added.
“But we don’t socialize amongst the beau monde. We are not worthy enough for that. I did not expect a grand entrance in London, not even tickets to Almacks. I am a mere ‘miss’ with no grand connections.” Josie’s fingers fiddled with a ribbon from her dress. “I have no desire or expectation to meet my grandfather. God calls me to forgive, but it is hard to do that when someone you have never even met has been cruel to someone you’ve loved. My mother was such a kind and beautiful woman. She never complained about our humble circumstances. She was a joy to be around.” Tears began to well up in Josie’s eyes, and she blinked them back.
Theo pressed a handkerchief into the palm of her hand. “Please don’t weep, Miss Storm. You must know that it unmans us. We never know what to do with a woman’s tears.”
Josie gave a tremulous smile as she sopped up her errant tears. “I’m sorry. Since the accident, I’ve missed my mother more than ever.”
“I would expect that is only natural, dear.” Lady Dorothea reached to clasp Josie’s free hand to give it a squeeze.
“What occupied you at home? What kind of activities did you enjoy?” Marcus hoped to steer the conversation to safer ground. This wasn’t the first time he’d been unsettled by her tears.
“I loved to draw, paint watercolors, read, play pianoforte and violin. I enjoyed managing the household for my father and helping with the tenants on our estate. I loved long walks and riding my horse. I was content with my life there.”
The Virtuous Viscount Page 10
