She took the rose and inhaled its scent.
Together they walked in silence until they came to the gazebo, where they sat down. Birds chirped and flitted in the bushes and trees. The garden thrummed with activity of busy bees doing their work. Dragonflies, with vibrant colors shining on their wings, swooped by. A small lake nearby reflected the shadows of trees, and little circles on the surface of the water gave evidence to fish in residence.
“You seem melancholy, Aunt Dorothea,” said Marcus.
“It has been an eventful few weeks.” She brought the rose to her face again and sighed. “I came here to help you, and I’m glad that I did. I am tired and miss some of our guests.”
“In a few months, you will have Miss Storm with you in London for the season. Are you looking forward to that?”
Lady Grey’s lips turned up at one end. “I am. I expect her to take the ton by storm. You may find you have to fight for her attention when she arrives in town.”
A heaviness settled over him. “I am aware. I requested permission to pay my addresses but was told to wait.” He glanced at his aunt. “What if she finds some other young buck who sweeps her off her feet?”
“Have a little more faith in her, Marcus. If your affections for each other are true, they will survive a season. It might be refreshing for you two to interact in a different circumstance than the ones you’ve experienced here.”
Marcus clenched his teeth. “I understand. I have waited a long time to meet a woman I admire. I hate that I am forced to wait longer with no guarantee.”
“Life doesn’t come with guarantees. You, of all people, understand that. It will be worth it, dear boy.” Lady Dorothea winked at him and laughed. “You are much like your father was. When he gave his heart, he gave it completely. I doubt you have anything to fear, but do not let jealousy become your friend. It will not serve you well.”
After more conversation about the garden and some of the challenges Marcus experienced on the estate, they rose to go back to the house. After they parted, Marcus realized how masterfully his aunt had moved the conversation away from herself. He wondered why.
He had not minded carrying Josie downstairs since she was still weak. Dinner that evening was intimate with only Miss Storm and Lady Grey as his guests. Marcus found himself trying to encourage Josie to eat more to regain her strength from her illness.
After dinner, Marcus relished sitting next to Josie on the piano bench as they tried to work out a duet of a piano sonata that had been one of his mother’s favorites. There was laughter as they each made mistakes, but soon they found their rhythm and were playing the piece competently.
After tea, Marcus escorted both the women upstairs to their prospective rooms.
Josie insisted on walking this time.
~*~
Marcus struggled to fall asleep. Josie occupied his thoughts. His fear about a season. He imagined her dancing in the arms of other men, and rage burned within him. He was ashamed at his lack of trust in her and at his strong emotions. He was the one who was always in control of such things. For some reason, this young woman had unleashed intense feelings within him that left him frustrated, confused, and humbled. He had never physically been so attracted to a woman before. Not that there weren’t pretty enough ones around. But he had never met a woman who had the physical and spiritual beauty he observed in Josie. If he saw it, certainly other men would. Would they be more worthy of her than he was? Watching her dance and enchant the beau monde this fall would be a difficult test.
Finally, after praying and seeking God with his fears, he fell asleep.
~*~
Widmore Estate
Lord Widmore,
I regret to inform you that the deadly snake we placed in the carriage was ousted and trampled before it could strike. A small fire on the property was quickly put out as well. A carriage hired to run down a pedestrian likewise failed.
It has also come to my attention through reliable sources that Lord Chester has rewritten his will, and Miss Storm will now benefit, as will her siblings. He has cut off any further communication with us regarding the assistance you requested with your debts.
Please let me know how I may be of further service to you. Mr. Caper
Lord Widmore crumpled the letter up and was about to throw it in the fire. Wait. Chester had bequeathed money to the chit injured in that accident? How dare she take what should be his. Hmmmm…maybe there was a potential there for recouping his losses. He dropped the crumpled letter in the flames and watched them lick and dissolve the paper to ash. He nodded his head.
Miss Storm would suffer an equally painful fate for stealing money he desired to claim for himself.
17
Early the next morning, Josie spent hours by her window, alone, praying, and drawing in her sketchpad. She worked hard to preserve images of Marcus. Love and passion compelled her art. A knock at the door interrupted her.
“Miss Storm, Lord Remington wishes to escort you to breakfast.”
“Thank you, Molly. Tell him I shall be right there.” Josie folded up her sketchbook and set it aside with her charcoal pencils. She washed and dried her hands and joined Marcus at the door. “Good morning, my lord.” One corner of her mouth twitched up.
He looked much better in reality than in her imagination.
They enjoyed a quiet breakfast together.
Josie didn’t know quite what to say to the handsome man beside her now that she could see him. Why should looking in his eyes leave her nonplussed?
Marcus broke into her thoughts. “I was wondering if you were up to a stroll in the gardens this morning.”
“That would be delightful.”
Molly fetched a bonnet and shawl for Josie, and soon they were stepping out the back door on to the garden path.
Josie expressed her appreciation of the flowers and their vibrant colors in the late spring sunshine combined with the smells of roses and earth.
Marcus walked alongside her saying nothing. He grinned at her, and she noticed that the lines on his forehead were gone. Being here relaxed him. Had he also been uncertain when they were together?
They reached the gazebo.
Josie entered and did a pirouette in the center. Marcus sat down, and she joined him. How close was too close? They were alone out here, and she shivered in excitement at the thought. But what did she really want? A kiss. She wanted a kiss. But not on the back of her hand. This man was the charming prince of many girls’ dreams, and he was with her. Marcus always acted with propriety. Would he ever unbend enough to do something like that?
They were close enough to touch. Shadow and light played on his dark hair and it curled unbound over his cravat at the back of his neck. His coat fit his form well. It showed off his broad shoulders and trim midsection. His inexpressibles…well…
She gulped and blushed as she realized where her gaze had gone. He wore those scuffed boots. She frowned. “Can I ask you something, Marcus?”
“Hmmm?”
“You dress well, yet your boots are scuffed. Do not men of your station have valets to care for things like that?”
Marcus glanced down at his boots as he stretched his long, muscular legs in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. His dimple played peek-a-boo. “I kept my valet in London as my sojourn here was intended to be of a short duration. I have other boots. However, these are my most comfortable and do not require the assistance of a valet to remove them. Those scratches remind me of my one opportunity to play the knight errant to a beautiful woman.” He glanced at her with a twinkle in his eye.
“You scratched your boots when you rescued me?” She placed her hand on his arm as she leaned forward to gaze into his face.
Marcus nodded. He had a silly grin on his face as he looked back at her. “That makes them special.”
Josie beamed.
Marcus looked away again, but his face became troubled.
“You are preoccupied in your thoughts. I should be put out that I c
annot capture your full attention.” Uneasiness assailed her. Josie removed her hand from his arm. She leaned toward him and inhaled his distinctive scent.
Marcus leaned back against the bench. “Your accident wasn’t really an accident.”
Josie startled. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“The axles did not ‘break’ on their own. They had been damaged.”
Josie gasped. “Someone planned for the carriage to crash.” She rose and walked the short length of the gazebo. “But why would anyone want to hurt me?” She rubbed her arms as goose bumps appeared.
Marcus stood, came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. He whispered in her ear. “We do not know that you were the intended victim.”
Josie felt safe in Marcus’s arms. She turned within the circle he had created and placed her hands on his chest. Her eyes squinted. “Was someone trying to hurt my aunt or cousin?”
Marcus planted a kiss on the top of her head. “We don’t know. Bow Street is investigating.”
Josie gave a sigh and leaned her forehead against his chest as her arms came down to his sides. “That’s good.”
“You are taking this well.”
She looked up into his face. “As tragic as it was, it brought you into my life. I am grateful for that.”
“Maybe it was the other way around—God, after all, brought you to my doorstep.” He grinned, but his smile slowly faded as he gazed into her eyes.
“You have been a detour on my way to London. I’m grateful God brought me to Rose Hill.” Josie wondered if he would kiss her now. Instead, Marcus relaxed his arms from around her and stepped back. She hugged herself and rubbed her arms at a sudden chill left in the absence of his warmth.
Marcus wandered to the opposite side of the gazebo with his back to her. “I am sad that our meeting involved much suffering on your part.”
Josie’s heart drooped. “I cannot say that I’ve enjoyed that part of this journey. I’m thankful to be past that.” She sat down and wrapped her shawl about her. She looked away from Marcus to the garden surrounding them.
“Josie?”
“Yes?” She stole glances at him.
He continued to look out the opposite side of the gazebo. Marcus turned to face her before he spoke again. “What if you had not been healed? What if you had been unable to walk, or see, for the rest of your life? Would you still praise God? Would you still call Him good?”
Josie looked to Marcus and saw tears in his eyes. “I think so. I hope so.”
Marcus paced. “All those nights I prayed for you. I wrestled with those ‘what ifs.’ I begged God for your healing. I am thankful He answered those prayers. But I wonder…”
“Why does that matter, Marcus? I am able to stand and walk. I can see you.”
“What if you hadn’t been healed?” Marcus stopped and again looked away from her.
“Then we might be having a different conversation.” Josie frowned. “I don’t want to think about that. I spent enough time looking at a dark future. I want to enjoy what I have now.” She walked over to him. “You can’t beat yourself up over ‘what ifs.’ You were faithful in your care of me. You prayed. You kept watch.” She clasped his left hand with her right and looked up into his eyes. “You even described a sunset to me.”
Marcus held her gaze for the longest time. “Josie.”
She swallowed and broke eye contact. “You are a good man, Marcus.”
“Not as good as I would like. I have failed where it mattered most.” He brought his right hand, closed in a fist, and placed it over his heart.
“I refuse to believe that.”
“I am not a saint.”
“None of us are.”
Marcus looked down at Josie.
Her heart raced at the intensity of his gaze. For the longest time, he was silent.
As if he snapped out of some kind of dream, he looked away. “I should get you back to the house.” He offered her his arm, she placed her hand on it, and together they walked through the garden back to the house.
There wouldn’t be a kiss. She dropped her head in disappointment. She knew that his reticence was a testimony of the virtue she had heard his friends speak of.
Upon entering the house, Lady Grey hurried to meet them. “Marcus. Josie. Have either of you seen Charlie? She hasn’t come to the kitchen this morning to eat.”
They responded at the same time. “No.”
Everybody split up to look for the dog, and the staff helped. Lunch came and went without discovering Charlie’s whereabouts.
Lady Gray dispatched Josie to the yellow suite to rest.
Josie yawned, reclined on the bed, and closed her eyes.
A noise came from the adjoining wardrobe.
Molly had the afternoon off, so it couldn’t be her. Josie padded across the room in her bare feet and walked into the closet. The noises continued to guide her. Soft sounds. Josie was almost afraid to push clothing aside. She had yet to observe any rodents in the house. There is nothing to be afraid of. She hoped.
With a deep breath, she pulled back the clothes to peer in. One of her older day dresses lay bunched up on the floor, and at the center of the pile lay Charlie, with three tiny, blind puppies.
Charlie looked up and her tail wagged.
Josie grinned. “You sweet thing. Look at your babies.” Josie left to go find Marcus and Lady Grey.
The housekeeper made up a new bed in Marcus’s study.
Charlie and her pups were relocated.
After the move, Josie finally got her nap.
~*~
Marcus had a hard time focusing on his company at dinner. After the meal, he sat alone with his port, not knowing how he would share his news with his aunt and Josie. His respite from London was over. He shook his head. Since when did he come to believe he orchestrated the universe? God had certainly blessed his hard work, but that didn’t mean that his plans were God’s. But Josie…how could he do this to her? To them? He walked into the drawing room, sat down, and rested his head on the back of the chair.
“Marcus, you were quiet through dinner. Is something amiss?” Lady Grey asked.
Josie leaned forward and showed that she was eager to know whatever troubled him.
He frowned. “I received a letter today from the Home Office in London.”
Lady Grey gasped and placed a hand over her heart. “Jared. Is he…?”
“He’s alive. He was a prisoner of war. He was rescued but was injured, and is in rough condition.”
“How serious?” Josie asked.
“I’m not sure of the nature or extent, but the letter seemed to indicate that the injuries are severe. Potentially life-threatening.” He paused and sighed. “Jared has asked for me.”
“You will depart in the morning.” Lady Dorothea stated this as a fact.
Marcus nodded. “I despise leaving you.” He didn’t name any names but looked at Josie and met her silvery gray eyes.
“He is your brother, Marcus. Of course you must go.” She gave him a teary smile.
Marcus took comfort in that. She will miss me. “I shall depart early.”
Lady Dorothea rose and came to clasp Marcus’s hand. “I am weary. I will see you off in the morning.” She winked at him and closed the door behind her as she left.
Some chaperone.
Josie sat across from him. Lost in thought, she played with ribbons from her blue dress.
He took in her dark hair and the loose curls that had a life of their own. He longed to twirl a lock around his finger. Inwardly, he groaned.
Josie rose to her feet. “I should retire as well.”
Marcus stood in front of her, and stayed her by gently holding her left arm. “Josie,” he whispered.
She looked up at him as he brought his other arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She tilted her head back to gaze at him. A kiss wasn’t proper, but he wanted to taste her. Something to savor, remember, and hold on to until summer was over and she was in Londo
n.
He fought the temptation. He backed up a step, picked up her left hand, bent down, placed the lightest of kisses on her palm, and closed her fingers over it. It would have to do. He released her hand and dropped his arms. “Good night, Josie.”
She gave him a sad smile as he took a step back. “Good night, Marcus. Have a safe journey. You and your brother will be in my prayers.” With that, she turned and slipped out the door.
18
Marcus’s thoughts jumbled as he rode Cloud toward London. Prayers interspersed with anxiety over his brother and curiosity about what he would find. He loved his brother but wondered at Jared’s faith. It had seemed that since joining up with the war effort, his brother’s penchant for gambling and womanizing was the stuff of legend. It grieved Marcus to watch his brother walk away from the beliefs and teaching of their parents.
Although Jared had mentioned in his previous letter he had not entirely abandoned it. Their mother would have been heartbroken if she had known how her youngest son lived his life. Maybe that would change as he recovered from these injuries and all he’d endured as a prisoner.
What a spring. Marcus never anticipated spending the season taking care of wounded and injured people.
Both labors of love.
He arrived at his home that evening. He changed out of his dusty clothes and found his valet, Max, eager to serve him now that he had returned. Marcus took the carriage to the hospital.
The building was a shabby affair, poorly lit, and filled with patients in various states of pain and distress. The stench of disease, filth, and death overwhelmed his senses. This makeshift hospital had originally been an old church. Now, blood stained the floors. With too many wounded men crowded into the space, and too little help, many of the men here suffered and died without the comfort of another human being. Too many would never reunite with family. Some were unidentified and, if their recovery was slim, left to die. Amputated limbs often became infected and fatal. The staff, while proficient in their own way, for their own survival had become numb to the suffering around them.
The Virtuous Viscount Page 15
