Entering the room, she was surprised to discover a man she did not recognize.
“Good morning, sir. I am Miss Storm. And you are?”
“Mr. Neville, ma’am. We have not met prior to this, but earlier this year, Lord Remington hired me to investigate your carriage accident, and I was involved in that case until Lord Widmore’s arrest.”
Josie sat and bid her guest to do the same. “You have come from London? What brings you this far afield?”
His attire was that of a respectable man although not as high a quality of cut and material as seen amongst the ton. His brown jacket and buff trousers and simply tied cravat all bespoke a man of manners but limited means. His neatly cut brown hair was combed off his face. His face seemed older than his voice, filled with lines and darkened by the sun. His eyes looked old and weary but still held a twinkle.
She was at ease in his presence.
“You do, Miss Storm. I came to apprise you of the outcome of the case.”
“And this could not have been done by letter?” Josie motioned for Molly, who had entered with the tea tray.
“Some news is best conveyed in person,” Mr. Neville said.
A disturbance at the door preceded the tea tray along with her father, who came to greet Mr. Neville.
As the men regained their seats and Josie poured the tea, the men chatted a bit about Mr. Neville’s journey west.
“It sounds as if you two have a prior acquaintance,” Josie said.
“True, my dear, I met Mr. Neville when he was in town doing work for Lord Remington and Lord Chester.”
“I see.” Josie sipped her tea and waited.
Mr. Neville cleared his throat. “I have come to let you know that Lord Widmore was found guilty of the crimes of kidnapping and attempted murder as well as for his unpaid debts. However, his behavior became highly erratic and unusual even in court, and he was instead sentenced to Bedlam.”
Josie gasped. “Bedlam? Is he truly insane?”
“He gave that appearance in the way he spoke and acted. He will never bother you again.”
“I’m sad for my aunt and cousin. How tragic this must be for them.”
“They are staying with Lord Chester, and he will provide for them I am sure.”
Josie nodded. “My grandfather is a good man.”
Mr. Storm agreed. “He has improved with age.”
Josie couldn’t help but grin.
“I also had business out this way doing some investigation of Sir Bastian’s case. Since I was in the area, I was commissioned to deliver a special correspondence.”
Josie put down her tea and saucer on the table. “For me?”
Mr. Neville smiled. “Most certainly for you, Miss Storm.” He reached in his pocket for an envelope and handed it to her. “There is a gift that goes with that.” He pulled a box up from the floor and handed it over to her. “The letter I think you will want to read privately.”
Josie placed the box on her lap and undid the thick cloth ribbons. She lifted the lid off and set it aside. Peering in, she saw a blanket surrounding a multicolored puppy that looked a bit like her Yorkshire Terrier mother but with curlier hair from an unknown father. Josie lifted the puppy up, and the cream, brown, and white coloring on the dog shone on the glossy coat. The puppy whimpered and licked her nose. Josie snuggled it to herself, and her heart warmed. “You are like your mama, are you not?” She handed the puppy to her father. “Will you hold her while I go read this letter? In case a response is needed?”
“I would be delighted.” Mr. Storm was already petting and getting his fingers licked by the little dog.
Josie excused herself as she left the room. She grabbed her cloak and headed out into the chilly December air. The garden was dead and ready for winter, but with a bleak beauty all its own. She sat on the bench by some bushes with brown branches but that still held a few berries. She took a deep breath, broke the seal on the envelope, and pulled out the paper.
Dear Miss Storm,
I pray this letter finds you well.
Please accept a gift I had longed to give you when you departed Rose Hill. She is a sweet puppy, and while I know you loved Charlie, she is currently helping me recover and cannot be spared. Please accept her daughter as a gift from me in remembrance of all we have shared and endured together. I was not initially aware of the plans my aunt had made for Christmas and wanted to assure you that I had no part in them, although your family will always be welcome at Rose Hill. I would never want you to feel pressured, or that I had failed to respect your decision and wish for me to withdraw my suit. I hope we might always be friends.
Respectfully,
MR
Josie laid the letter on her lap and sat in the cold a bit stunned. Marcus had written to her. She let her fingers touch the strong, masculine script and wished she were able to touch him instead. Had he forgiven her? Would he still want her after all he had endured for her sake?
Could she really forget the scandal of London? Her fingers traced his initials with longing. There was no declaration of love, only an offer of friendship.
Christmas at Rose Hill? She wondered when her father had planned to tell her about that. Energy surged within her. They were going to Rose Hill for the holidays!
That had to be why her father had not given his blessing yet on her ideas and had been saying, “Wait.”
She would meet Marcus again. She swallowed. She would see him again but potentially as a friend. Could she handle days of being at Rose Hill with Marcus, knowing he would never be hers? That this estate she had come to love would never be her home? It would be hard, but she had to see him. It was torture not being able to know how well he fared. How extensive his injures had been. She would get to thank him personally for his rescue of her. Her toes began to tingle with the cold. She rose, grabbed the letter, and returned to the warmth of the house.
Josie collected her puppy and invited Mr. Neville for lunch. She excused herself to write a letter to Marcus. She made a small bed for the dog, but the puppy chose to curl up in her lap. She pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write.
Lord Remington,
Thank you for the sweet dog. She is beautiful, and I will treasure her because she came from you.
I had been unaware of our holiday plans. I look forward to seeing you and your friends again.
I prayed for your recovery.
I regret my foolish words and actions the last time we spoke. I was wrong. I hope that you would forgive me. I had no right to judge. You have proven yourself brave, strong, faithful, and true.
My deepest regards,
J
Josie dusted the letter and carefully folded the lightly scented paper in an envelope, placed a wax seal on it, and scooped up her new charge to head downstairs to dine.
Mr. Neville left after lunch. He assured her that he would deliver her letter at Rose Hill on his way back to London.
When the door had closed on their guest, Josie followed her father into his study. “We need to talk.”
He sat down at his desk, shuffled paper, and avoided her gaze.
“Father? When were you planning to tell me about Christmas at Rose Hill?”
The paper shuffling stopped, and her father looked up into her face. “I neglected to mention that?”
Josie laughed. “You know very well you did. No hiding it now.”
He grinned and sat back in his chair as Josie, arms crossed, leaned against the solid oak desk. “I was planning to tell you soon, but I was afraid you would reject the proposal.”
“I would be happy to return to Rose Hill.”
He looked at her for a few seconds and nodded. “I am glad. I also look forward to it. I thought it would be good for the whole family.”
“I agree.”
“Are you certain? I didn’t know how you would feel about seeing Lord Remington again.”
Josie let her arms drop to her side. “I miss him.”
Mr. Storm pursed his lips together
and rose to envelop his daughter in a hug. As he let her go, he held her by the shoulders. “Josie, you will need to trust that God will work things out for you and Lord Remington should it be His will for you to be together. Maybe this will be a step in that direction, or it might help you close a door and move on.”
“I don’t want to move on.”
“I know. We have a fortnight to pray and prepare.”
“And train a new dog.”
“Hmm?” Her father followed Josie’s gaze to the floor where the puppy sat next to a puddle.
Josie scooped up the dog and turned to leave. “I’ll go get a rag and take care of that.”
Mr. Storm chuckled.
~*~
Marcus received Mr. Neville into Rose Hill, and they enjoyed a meal together.
Mr. Neville retired early for the evening after being convinced to stay as opposed to the posting inn.
Marcus battled fatigue since coming home, as he continued to heal. He took the letter to his suite and sipped a glass of brandy as he read the contents.
Charlie had joined him and curled up at his feet.
He sighed. She was coming to Rose Hill. She asked him to forgive her, and yet she had nothing to forgive. He never blamed her for her choice. Would he have done any better had he been in her shoes? When had pride and piety become a weight? He brought the page to his nose and inhaled. It smelled like her. He glanced at her lovely writing and soaked in the words again—“brave, strong, faithful, and true.” It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t remember from where. The words gave him hope. Would she be open to his attentions when she arrived? Did he have the courage to try again?
Rising from his chair, he limped over to the bed and prepared himself for the night.
Charlie jumped up and curled in a ball on his pillow.
Marcus gently shoved her off. As he pulled the blankets up to his chest, he thought he had a vague memory. It had to have been a hallucination due to the medication. He imagined that Josie had kissed his palm. He lifted his hand, looked at it for a moment, and dropped his arm in wonder. Had she? His heart soared a little more with hope.
29
Today was the day the Storm family planned to arrive. A light dusting of snow overnight coated the grass and trees. Everything glistened in the twilight as the estate awaited its guests.
Jared laughed at Marcus as he paced before the fireplace. “Come, Marcus, stop acting like a lovesick fool. If I ever become like this when Cupid hits, please feel free to punch me in the nose.”
Marcus reached up to touch the bump on his own nose that remained after it had been broken.
Jared noticed. “Do not worry about that bump either. It makes you look rougher and not so pretty, and that balances things out for the rest of us.”
Marcus chuckled. “If you keep this up, little brother, you will find I can still mill you down. I refrain only because I do not want to get into further trouble for injuring one of Wellesley’s staff.”
“Sir Wellesley was not that angry when he understood the reason.”
“Perhaps, but it was not nice getting a written reprimand from the man. I know you like him, but to be honest, Jared, the man makes me shake in my boots.”
The Captain laughed at that. “I used to be that way too.”
The sound of carriage wheels and horses’ hooves reverberated in the courtyard.
Marcus limped to the window. “Josie has arrived.”
Charlie got up from her spot before the fireplace and scampered to the door, barking and tail wagging, to greet the guests.
Marcus and Jared followed.
Jared grabbed Marcus’s shoulder before they could exit. “Remember, you are still sworn to secrecy.”
Marcus stared at his brother for a moment, stunned. “After all this time, I am still to live under a cloud of suspicion?”
“If Whitehall ever chooses to release any details, you will be free of your promise, but until then, I must ask again for your word.”
Marcus swallowed hard and nodded.
Jared patted him on the shoulder. “You are a good man, and any woman who fails to understand and appreciate that is a fool and doesn’t deserve you.” He turned and walked out.
Marcus took a moment to assimilate his brother’s words. He prayed that Josie was no fool.
Chaos reigned as he entered the foyer, where his staff collected cloaks.
Mrs. Hughes and Lady Dorothea bustled around, assigned rooms, and gave directions to a small army of footmen.
In the middle of it was Josie. She stood there with Charlie in one arm and a puppy in the other. She smiled as everyone talked around her. She glanced up and their eyes locked.
To Marcus, all the noise faded away. It was just the two of them. She was beautiful. Not the beaten down girl he’d fought for, but radiant and healthy. “Welcome to Rose Hill.”
Mr. Storm stepped forward to clasp Marcus’s hand. “Thank you for having us. I’m glad to be out of that carriage.”
As the luggage disappeared up the stairs, Marcus fought back the effort to scowl at the young man who protectively hovered over Josie. Before he might figure it out, Mr. Storm captured his attention.
“Lord Remington, allow me to present to you my two youngest children, Charles and Georgette.” Mr. Storm beamed.
The children curtsied to him, and their nanny shuffled them off to their rooms above stairs.
The young man by Josie’s side stepped forward and gave a bow. “I am Mr. Matthew Storm, my lord. ’Tis a pleasure to finally meet the man who saved my sister’s life, twice.”
Marcus smiled and relaxed. Her brother. Of course.
Josie smiled at him and gave a small curtsy as well. “Thank you for inviting us to Rose Hill, my lord.”
“You are welcome. Rose Hill is a place for family and laughter. It is good to experience it again.”
Lady Dorothea ushered Josie and her brother up the stairs.
Marcus could not help but follow their progress Josie’s hips swayed as she climbed the stairs chatting with his aunt. She wore a green traveling gown, and her hair was starting to come loose from its pins. He recalled the way her hair looked when spread out against a pillow and the silky touch of it in his hands. He swallowed hard.
He turned on his heel to discover his brother standing there with a grin on his face. “You are a sad case, brother.”
Together they ascended the stairs to seek their rooms and prepare for dinner.
~*~
Marcus was forced to wait to visit with Josie. His sister, Henri, came into the drawing room. She and her husband, Charles, had arrived a few days prior. She was expecting their firstborn in the spring, and she looked plump and radiant. Marcus listened as she talked about her trip to the continent. She rested one hand on his arm.
Jared conversed with Charles about the war.
Josie entered the room. He sensed her presence before he heard her gasp.
Henrietta was laughing and noticed Marcus’s gaze had moved to the doorway.
Marcus left Henrietta to approach Josie and bring her into the center of the room. “Miss Josephine Storm, may I present to you my precocious sister, Lady Henrietta Percy.”
Josie gave a curtsy to Lady Percy but glanced at Marcus with her eyebrows raised.
Marcus raised his in return.
Lady Henrietta laughed. “Miss Storm, Marcus has been raving about you for months, and yet I suspect he neglected to mention me to you.”
“That would be true, my lady.” Josephine blushed.
“I was on my wedding trip for much of this year and have not seen my family often since we returned to London. It is a delight to meet you. I hope you will call me Henri and will soon grant me the right to call you Josie. I’m sure we will be fast friends.”
Josie smiled.
Lady Percy led her away to become acquainted while they waited for the others.
Marcus frowned at the distance placed between the Josie and himself, but they had time—plenty of time—to
talk.
~*~
In a few more days, the household would burst with all its guests.
Josie chafed at how the hosting duties conspired to keep Marcus away from her. Early one morning, she came downstairs to find Marcus seated alone in the breakfast parlour. She detected a flicker of interest in his eyes when she entered the room and suddenly felt shy about being alone with him after so long apart.
“Good morning, Miss Storm.”
“Good morning to you, Lord Remington. I would prefer it if you would return to calling me Josie.” She went to the sideboard and filled her plate. The footman brought her hot chocolate, and she sat down to Marcus’s right.
“I would be pleased to do so only if you would call me Marcus.” He paused as he sipped his coffee. Catching her eye, he added, “I miss hearing my name on your lips.”
Josie smiled and ate in silence. When she finished eating, she stood to leave.
Marcus reached for her hand.
She halted, looked at him, and raised one eyebrow.
“May we speak privately?”
Josie nodded and waited for him to rise. He escorted her out of the room into his study. Entering that haven, he closed the door and locked it.
Josie bit back a smile.
Marcus motioned for her to sit near the fireplace, and he chose a chair across from her. They sat there, silent, and stared at each other as if daring the other one to speak first.
“Thank you again for sending me one of Charlie’s pups. She is adorable.”
“I am glad you like her. The rest have all found good homes, but I had saved her specifically for you. Have you named her yet?”
“Charity, although I call her Cherry.”
“Hence the red bow on her collar?”
“That, and it is Christmas.”
They both avoided looking at each other.
Marcus leaned forward and turned his gaze to her. “I’ve missed you, Josie.”
She looked at her hands. “I’ve missed you too.”
“I have been eager to talk to you since you arrived. I have longed for your visit from the moment I received your letter. I hoped you had forgiven me.”
The Virtuous Viscount Page 25
