Josie did not have any excuse to sleep anymore. With all her shed tears, she was weary and drained. She did not want to face this day.
She refocused her gaze on the raindrops splashing against the glass. Memories of her time at Rose Hill with Marcus rose before her. The weeks of her recovery were a haze compared to the vibrant memories she had of conversations, dinners, and walks in the garden. With Marcus. It was always Marcus. Even his friends faded into the background of her remembrances. How different life was there compared to London. What if she had married Lord Remington and found out about his wayward actions later? It was too late for her heart, but at least she wasn’t trapped in a loveless marriage. Tears came. She wiped them away.
She tried to draw, but creativity had fled. The page showed dark colors, and as much as she tried to think of other images, the only ones that came to mind were the newssheet or the beautiful blonde who laughed up into his eyes after church. She would not paint that. She cleaned up and threw her brushes into their storage box.
She meandered to the music room and sat at the pianoforte. Her fingers caressed the keys, on the darker minor chords. They suited her mood, and the sounds that resulted were somber. They built in intensity as a melody emerged and her fingers floated over the keys. The rise and fall of volume, and the plaintive cries of higher notes against the backdrop of doom pounding in the lower register, gave voice to her heart. When the notes stopped and the vibrations hovered in the air, she closed her eyes, spent but relieved.
“That was devastatingly beautiful,” whispered Marcus as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.
Josie startled but remained silent. She watched him move across the room, all strength, grace, and so handsome. Longing warred with anger in her heart. The reality of his deception was like a splash of cold water on her face. She sat up straighter and lifted her chin as she watched him warily.
“I’ve not heard that composition before.”
“It was an original,” she said flatly.
“May we talk, Josie? I think there is much to be said between us.”
“I do not know that you could say anything to make this present reality any better.”
Marcus was by her side and knelt down on one knee by the piano bench. “I love you, Josie, and would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.” He saw her bruised arms. “Bastion hurt you?”
“Why would you care? You were not there. Apparently, you had more important things to do.” Josie diverted her gaze to her hands lying in her lap. “I wonder if I really knew you.”
He grasped her hand, and she tried to pull away, but he held firm.
“I am tired of being bullied, Lord Remington.”
Marcus brought the hand up to his mouth, placed a kiss there, and handed it back to her. “I could never bully you into loving me. I would give my life for you if it was required.”
“Spanish coin, my lord.”
“I would hope you would never find me untruthful in anything I say. If you want me to leave and not return or be found in your company, as much as it would pain me, I would bow to your wishes.”
Josie looked out to the windows at the rain that continued to run like a living curtain against the windowpane. What could she say? The warmth of his kiss lingered on the back of her hand.
A kiss of Judas perhaps? Part of her longed to kiss him, and the other part wanted to slap his handsome face. Without a word, she rose and walked over to the window to gaze outside. She observed him there reflected in the glass. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool surface.
After what seemed like an eternity, Marcus spoke in the silence. “I’m disappointed but understand. Farewell, Miss Storm.”
She heard the outside door close, and the tears descended.
~*~
That evening, Lady Grey insisted they attend some balls and hold their heads up high in case there was any murmuring against Miss Storm.
Josie wore long gloves to cover up the bruises left by Sir Bastian, and she found that she had no such way to cover up her heartbreak. She lacked her usual vitality but found plenty of partners willing to lead her out on the dance floor.
Lord Harrow was amongst them. “My dear Miss Storm. What has given you a case of the blue-devils?”
“I know not of what you speak, Lord Harrow.” She avoided meeting his penetrating gaze.
“You cannot pull the wool over my eyes, my dearest Miss Storm. If you are concerned about the incident with Sir Bastian, trust me when I say the collective ton has sighed in relief at his downfall.”
Grateful for the distraction from the real cause of her heartache, Josie eagerly jumped into this line of conversation. “It was a distasteful incident.”
“I suspect you still have bruises you are hiding under your gloves.”
“You are too astute, my lord.”
“I suspect you also have bought into the beau monde’s recent gossip about Lord Remington.”
Josie stiffened her spine, resolved to show that it was of no consequence to her what Remington had done. “I would prefer not to discuss the topic.”
“I bow to your wishes.”
Lord Harrow’s face had fallen with her statement, and she sensed disapproval emanating from him. Did he blindly trust his friend’s integrity against the reality of what everyone knew happened? Maybe Lord Harrow was not as sharp as she had first thought. That she should lose the friendships made at Rose Hill saddened her. These were men she had grown to like and trust. The dance ended in silence and a courteous bow as Lord Harrow handed her off to another partner seeking her hand.
It seemed as if her popularity had soared in the wake of Sir Bastian. She had never been sought out and fawned over as much as she had this evening. Her heart was not into engaging in even the mildest of flirtations. All the men seemed silly and immature. She wondered at their extracurricular activities in spite of their stellar appearances at a ball and courteous manners. Were they all engaged in liaisons with women other than their wives? The reality of it was that many of them probably were.
The last of the scales of naiveté fell from her eyes as she surveyed the mass of humanity around her. All immersed in some kind of sin but loathe to confess it. One small misstep away from scandal, they found fault in others so as to deflect it from being revealed in themselves.
Unfortunately, was she any different? She may not have engaged in any indiscretion, but she had been harsh and judgmental. God called her to forgive, but she found that hard to do when her heart ached. All the while, as she danced, she forced a smile on her face and gave these dubious men her attentions for the span of the measures of a dance. She would be gone from town soon enough.
~*~
Lord Remington arrived at the ball later in the evening and watched Josie go through the motions of the dances with a variety of dandies and Corinthians. Her smile was pasted on. He had promised he would leave her alone, and that meant he needed to ignore her when every fibre of his being called out to him to draw closer to her. He ached deep inside as he watched her on the arms of other men. He longed for her heart to belong to him alone. She glistened like a diamond amongst paste. He felt tawdry at the attentions lavished on him by many women in the ton. Married and unmarried alike viewed him far differently than before, and the innuendos were distasteful. It galled him to think that his standing amongst the beau monde had actually risen due to his alleged indiscretion.
But oh, at what a cost.
Later at home, he reflected on the new alliances he had gained that evening. He reflected on the irony of gaining the world and losing his own soul. Except for him, it was Josie who had his soul. Anguished prayers preceded a restless sleep.
Morning dawned bright and sunny. Marcus had an appointment for an early morning ride in the park with Jared.
“How you doing, ol’ boy?” his brother asked with a smirk.
“Not well.” Marcus gave him the evil eye. His eyelids scratched like sandpaper.
“Jos
ie did not take it well?”
“That would be an understatement. No questions. No accusations. Presumed guilty.”
“I feared that outcome but had prayed it would not come to pass. You did the right thing. She is alive today because of you.”
“I knew the risks going in.” Marcus sighed.
Jared looked at his brother with brows furrowed together. “Is there anything I can do?”
Marcus shrugged. “I doubt it. I have gained far more support for my bills against poverty and prostitution. Some believe I was there doing research.” Marcus gave his brother half a grin. He slowed his horse to stop at the side of the pathway, and Jared pulled up alongside. “I would never have wanted harm to come to Miss Storm, but the idea of her marrying another man churns my insides. How do I live with this?”
“You could have never lived with yourself had you done nothing and she had perished. If you had not acted, Sir Bastian would have also been a part of the demise of more British soldiers and possibly tipped the war in Napoleon’s favor. You have no idea the amount of smuggling that was going on through his estate. We have found the correspondence that implicated him, and while we have not identified who this Black Diamond is, Bastian is still undergoing interrogation and we may know soon. He is going through withdrawal from opium. He was a madman and certainly had plans to hand Josie over for torture and possibly death as a means to some larger end we haven’t quite discovered.”
Marcus nodded. “I needed to hear that. But is she really out of danger?”
“Why do you ask?” Jared started his horse forward, and Marcus followed alongside.
“We never did resolve that carriage accident. Bastian didn’t own to that, did he?” Marcus inquired.
“He professes to know nothing of it, and on that score, I believe he tells the truth.”
“Jo…Miss Storm might still be in danger.”
The men exchanged glances.
“I am at your disposal as I’m sure the rest of your friends will be.”
“I hope to leave for Rose Hill as soon as she is safe. Will you join me?” Marcus asked.
“Changing the subject? I have a few more weeks before I am expected to return to the Peninsula and would be glad to join you at home for some fishing.”
“I will be grateful of the company. This was not the way I had envisioned my autumn. I had hoped to end the season with a wedding.”
“I know, and I am sorry.”
Jared spurred his horse forward and with a “Whoop!” Marcus was soon on his heels as they tore across the meadow before they returned home.
~*~
“What now?” Marcus said as he strode into his house after his ride with his brother.
A guest awaited him. Mr. Neville bowed before him as he entered the library. “I apologize for inconveniencing you so early in the day, my lord. I have information that may be of interest to you.”
“Let us have it.” Marcus motioned for the man to have a seat and took the chair opposite.
“I have continued my investigation of Lord Widmore at Lord Chester’s request due to the carriage accident that befell the Widmore women and injured Miss Storm. I trust Miss Storm has recovered?”
“Yes. She was in fine health when last I saw her.”
“Lord Chester begged me to seek you for advice while he was out of town to save time traveling to and from his estate.”
“I recall that conversation.”
“Let me tell you what I’ve learned since then.”
“Please do.” Marcus leaned forward, full of curiosity.
24
Another night. Another ball. Josie found the enchantment of these events wore thin when she could no longer anticipate dancing with a certain someone. It was not that her partners lacked charm, grace, good looks, or even fortune, should those have been selling points for her in finding a husband. She could not like any of them. She missed Marcus.
Lord Westcombe danced with her twice and took her into dinner, for which she was grateful.
“Excuse me for saying this, Miss Storm, but you look decidedly down pin this evening. Are you weary of the season already?”
“I will be glad for it to end and to be home again. Finding enjoyment in all this frivolity is beyond my ability at present.”
“Chin up. Smile. There, that is much better. You cannot let the old tabbies over there think you are anything less than enamored of my presence. My reputation must be upheld.” He winked.
Josie forced a grin. “I am sorry I am such poor company this evening. I have the beginning of megrims. I will ask Lady Grey to take me home before the dancing resumes.”
“I will help you locate her when you are done eating. I wanted to inquire how you and Lord Remington fared.”
“We do not.”
Phillip frowned. “You believed the gossip? You surprise me.” He sat up straighter and moved slightly away from her.
She shivered at the chill of his withdrawal. “How could I not? He did not deny it or beg forgiveness. He only asked me to trust him.”
“Blind trust?”
“Blind…?”
Phillip nodded. “Maybe you need to close your eyes and remember who that man really is. Ask yourself, would he do what the beau monde thinks he did? Appearances can be deceiving, and the ton delights in coming to the most damaging conclusions.”
“What are you saying?”
“I have known Marcus for many years. I do not need to know the truth of what happened. I can see it in his eyes. He is innocent of the slander that has been spread.”
“But if he is innocent, why will he not defend himself?”
“Doing so would only inflame the gossip more. Have you ever heard people protesting their guilt? It can often appear to be a defensive posture to avoid consequences, and it rarely works.”
Josie stared at her plate. She no longer had an appetite. She laid her fork down on the table.
“He loves you, Miss Storm. Of that I have no doubt.”
“I am confused.”
“Do you think he does not understand you are human? I may not be a man of faith, but I have been around my friend long enough to ask this—whose sin is greater, the one who has the appearance of evil or the one who refuses to forgive?”
Josie’s head snapped up to look Phillip in the eye.
“I would do almost anything for Lord Remington, Miss Storm. I would trust him with my life. I apologize if my plain speaking has offended. Up until this point, I had confidence that you would be the perfect wife for him. Perhaps I was mistaken.”
Tears tickled the corners of her eyes. “He said he would die for me if he had to.”
Phillip’s raised eyebrows and widened eyes seemed to say, I told you so.
The musicians were tuning up in the other room. Phillip rose and presented his arm to escort Josie to her aunt. He gave them both a brief bow before he returned to the ballroom to claim his next partner.
Night after night, the dreariness of the dances and balls and parties continued. Josie wondered if Phillip were correct. Had she misjudged Marcus? Was she more blind to the truth now than when she had lost her sight? It was far easier to trust Marcus when she had no choice. And now?
Now she may have lost him forever.
~*~
Marcus spent time in Parliament and worked on writing his speeches and managing estate business.
Jared continued his daily visits to Whitehall and prepared for his return to the Peninsula.
Together they had arranged round-the-clock guard over Miss Storm.
Marcus had not told his aunt of the extra protection for them, as he did not want her anxious. He hardly slept. Marcus realized he would likely not rest until he knew Josie was free from all possible harm. Not being able to be closer to her made the task more challenging. He had to be circumspect. If only she were his wife. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head as he stretched out his legs. Wife. She was the only one he could have ever imagined in that role. And
even now, although she didn’t believe in him, he still wanted her and only her by his side for the rest of his life.
Was this love or foolishness? She avoided looking at him when they were at the same social events. He was invisible to her. Yet he was aware of where she was at all times. She was in his dreams at night, and even before he would see her in a room amongst a crowd, he knew she was present. He could not help his attraction. It bordered on obsession.
He would honor her request and never approach her again. That was difficult when he was determined to protect her to the extent that he was able. He sighed. Love was brutal. He had started out in the spring determined that it was time to find a wife, and now that he had found her and was rebuffed, he had lost all interest in seeking a different bride.
~*~
Mr. Storm arrived in town and escorted Josie and Lady Grey for an evening of fêtes.
Josie was happy to have her father there to view her social success and only hoped he would not notice the sorrow in her heart.
She was surprised when her father led Lady Grey out to the floor to dance. She hugged herself as they danced perfectly in tune with each other. Sorrow overcame her at what she had lost. She had once danced with in perfect harmony with Lord Remington.
The evening was tedious and long, and Josie just wanted to curl up in bed and have a good cry. She longed for Marcus, but how could she accept his convoluted non-apology? Nothing made sense, and even her heart disagreed with her head on the matter.
Mr. Storm leaned back in the carriage on the ride home, smiled, and sighed. “What a delightful evening with two of London’s most beautiful ladies.”
Lady Dorothea’s corresponding smile was bright in the illumination by streetlights they passed. “It was quite agreeable.” The older woman looked at Mr. Storm as she spoke.
Josie looked out the window and declined comment. She did not want to dampen her father’s visit to town with her melancholy.
The Virtuous Viscount Page 21
