by Wolf, Bree
And yet, Jo could not deny that a part of her still thought that the way her own life had turned out was a just consequence for her own selfishness. A part of her believed that she deserved to feel alone.
“I do not believe that’s true.”
“Hmm?” At the sound of her grandmother’s voice, Jo jerked back from her musings, her eyes finding those pale blue ones that were more familiar to her than her own. “I’m sorry. I was lost in thought.”
Her grandmother chuckled. “I did notice,” she replied, such a youthful twinkle in her eyes that Jo almost groaned with envy. “You seemed caught up in a beautiful memory.”
Jo frowned. Beautiful would not have been the word she would have chosen.
Her grandmother nodded. “You should have seen your face. Something…or someone made you smile. Who was it?”
Instantly, an image of Colin’s smiling face rose before her inner eye, and Jo felt her jaw drop with shock.
Again, her grandmother chuckled, clearly pleased with her astute observations. “And do you care to tell me the name of that young man who’s occupying your thoughts?”
Jo swallowed hard. “I…There’s…There’s no one. You are mistaken.”
Her grandmother inhaled a deep breath, then reached out and placed a wrinkled hand on Jo’s. “Owen would not wish you to be unhappy for the rest of your life,” she whispered, her words like a jolt to Jo’s heart. “He was a good boy, cheerful and fair and utterly compassionate. He would be appalled to see you punishing yourself like this.”
Jo felt a tremor shake her jaw, and then her grandmother’s image blurred as tears rose in her eyes. Quickly, she reached for her handkerchief, afraid others might take note of her emotional state. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I know, dear.” Patting her granddaughter’s hand, Grandmamma Clarice sighed, “I can see that you feel lost, and I cannot tell you what to do. But I want you to know that you have a right to live and be happy. It serves no one if you pretend that your life ended the moment Owen’s did. It does not bring him back nor does it make anyone else happy. If your roles had been reversed, would you have wanted him to live with this guilt for the rest of his life?”
“No!” Jo exclaimed, remembering the always-present kindness in Owen’s blue eyes. “Of course, I wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“Then don’t discount him, either, my dear. He cared for you deeply, and whether you believe it or not, what happened was not your fault. You need to find a way to let this go. It was not within your power to save Owen, and neither was it within your power to take his life. Do you understand?”
Sighing, Jo nodded. Of course, she understood. Of course, she knew that she had not truly been at fault. Even if she could argue that he would not have climbed the tree if she had not run off and then been locked in her chamber. However, according to this line of thinking, one could also say if she had never become Owen’s friend, if their mothers had not married men with neighbouring estates, if her grandmother had not always support her in her wild adventures, if…
The list was endless.
Jo knew that the guilt that lived in her heart was irrational, and yet, it was there. Simply because one’s mind understood an emotion to be wrong or harmful did not mean that emotion was easily discarded. Of course, Jo wished it gone.
But it would not comply.
What on earth was she to do?
“Why are you sitting here all night?”
Flinching, Jo looked up and found her mother standing before her, hands on her hips and a look of utter disappointment on her face as she glared down at her only daughter. “I…I was keeping Grandmamma company.”
Her mother huffed out an annoyed breath. “I’m certain your grandmother would not mind if you danced, my dear. Come along.” And without another look back, Lady Rawdon pulled Johanna to her feet and all but pushed her into the arms of a waiting gentleman.
Although displeased with her mother’s actions, Jo did her best to enjoy the dance. Although her partner was utterly boring−his only topic of conversation seemed to be his new phaeton−Jo got through the dance with enough grace, judging from the approving look on her mother’s face.
However, once the music ended, Jo pleaded a headache and quickly took her leave, weaving her way through a throng of people and away from her mother’s watchful eyes. She wanted at least one short moment alone with her thoughts, a moment to take a deep breath, and so she retreated toward the back of the ballroom. There, she spotted a few tall and dense-growing, potted plants, set in a row and thus providing a most convenient retreat for one who wished to disappear…if only for a moment.
Slipping behind the first plant, Jo drew up short when she found that her sanctuary was already occupied. “Oh!”
“I see you’ve found my hiding place,” a young gentleman remarked, an amused twinkle in his brown eyes as he glanced over her shoulder. Then quick as lightning, he reached out a hand and pulled her forward. “Come, before anyone spots you.”
Stumbling forward, Jo felt a momentary rush that oddly enough reminded her of her youth, of her adventures. A smile came to her face as she surveyed the young man currently trying to peer through the dense leaves.
His gaze narrowed as he ran a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t think anyone saw you,” he concluded, his voice low to avoid being overheard. Then he turned and looked at her, a genuine smile coming to his face. “I hope I’ve not stunned you witless by dragging you in here. I apologise if I’ve offended you.”
Unable not to, Jo smiled. “There’s no need. I’m most grateful for this reprieve. My mother can be…a bit trying at times.”
Grinning, the young man leaned forward, his brown eyes full of amusement. “If yours is anywhere near as determined at finding you a husband as mine is at finding me a wife, then I assume your assessment of her character is an understatement.”
Jo laughed as a strange lightness came to her heart. One she had not felt in many years. “You would assume right, my lord.”
He shook his head as though to chastise himself. “Forgive my manners,” he said, straightening with a hint of mock formality. “I’m Brendan Pearce.”
“Lord Kenwood?”
A frown drew down his brows, and yet, there was a hint of pleasure in the way he looked at her. “You’ve heard of me? Do I need to be worried?”
“Not at all,” Jo assured him, the corners of her mouth straining upward yet again. “It is only that my mother has you on her list of possible suitors. Consider this a warning. If she were to find us here, she’d be most pleased.”
“I consider myself warned,” he replied with a smile. “And would you share your name as well?”
Jo smiled. “Of course. I’m Johanna Grey. My father is Lord Rawdon.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Grey.” After inclining his head to her, Lord Kenwood straightened, and his gaze narrowed in thought. “I believe I’ve met your father before. All he talks about is current events?”
Jo nodded. “Yes, his most meaningful relationship is with the daily newspaper. Sometimes I wonder if he even knows we live in the same house with him.” Although a part of Jo wondered how she could share such personal thoughts with a stranger, another part of her felt utterly comfortable in Lord Kenwood’s presence.
The zest for life shining in his eyes reminded her of Owen.
Lord Kenwood laughed, then offered her his arm. “What would you say to a refreshment? I promise to have your back should your mother spot us.”
Returning his smile, Jo accepted. “And I’ll have yours in return,” she replied, determined to take her grandmother’s advice and live her life free of guilt and regret.
It would not be easy, but perhaps she could take the first step tonight with Lord Kenwood by her side.
In her mind, Jo saw Owen smile at her and chose to believe that he was happy for her.
It was a comforting thought.
Chapter Seven − An Echo of the Past
&nbs
p; The morning after the ball, Lord Kenwood called on Jo, inviting her on an outing the next afternoon. Delighted, Jo agreed, finding herself quite eager to see the young man again. Still, her mother’s excitement seemed to exceed even her own.
“Marvellously done, my dear,” Lady Rawdon exclaimed the moment Lord Kenwood had left their home. “He is quite the catch, titled, wealthy and handsome. Many young ladies have tried to catch his attention.”
As well as their mothers, Jo added silently.
“Still, so far he seemed quite disinclined to take a wife,” her mother continued, completely unaware of her daughter’s amusement with the situation at large. “I’ve never understood why. With his father’s passing two years ago, it is his duty to provide an heir to continue his line. I cannot fathom why he would be so reluctant.” Sighing, Lady Rawdon shook her head. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad that you caught his attention. Now, let’s discuss what you should wear tomorrow.”
Jo groaned at the consequences of her mother’s enthusiasm and was forced to spend the better part of the afternoon trying on dresses, bonnets and shoes. The sun was already setting by the time her mother was finally satisfied and Jo managed to escape her clutches.
“You look exhausted,” Grandmamma Clarice commented when Jo sank onto the settee next to her with a loud sigh. “What does your mother have planned now?”
Leaning her head against the backrest, Jo closed her eyes. “I’m certain she’s already planning my wedding to Lord Kenwood.”
“Ah.” Shifting in her seat, Grandmamma Clarice placed a hand on Jo’s. “I assume he hasn’t proposed yet.”
Jo chuckled, “Of course not. I met the man yesterday.”
“I know,” her grandmother replied, the look in her eyes suggesting that there was more she wished to say.
Jo frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you with him,” she whispered, wicked amusement lighting up her eyes. “In your hiding place.”
Drawing in a sharp breath, Jo clasped a hand over her mouth.
“Don’t worry, my dear. Your mother has no clue,” she assured her granddaughter, reassuringly patting her hand. “But I assume you know that if she did, you’d be married within days.”
Jo nodded.
“Good. Then the only question that remains is, what are your intentions?”
“I’ve only just met him. I…”
Again, her grandmother patted her hand. “All I’m saying is that you need to be careful or your decision will be made for you. From what I hear, his mother is almost as resourceful as yours when it comes to pushing her child into the direction of a potential spouse.”
“Yes, he said as much,” Jo replied with a chuckle. “I’ll consider myself warned.” That sentence echoed in her head as it had been the same Lord Kenwood had said to her the night before, and a soft smile came to her face.
“You like him,” her grandmother observed, her pale eyes slightly narrowed as she watched her granddaughter’s reaction.
Jo nodded, seeing no need to lie to her grandmother. “I do. He is sweet and funny and…daring.” She sighed, “He…he reminds me of…”
“Owen,” Grandmamma Clarice finished for her when Jo’s voice broke off.
Sniffling, Jo nodded. “Is that wrong? I do not want to replace him. But last night was the first time that I enjoyed remembering him without sadness or guilt.”
“No, it’s not wrong. It’s wonderful. I’m certain he would be proud of you.” Squeezing her hand, her grandmother smiled. “As am I.”
To her mother’s delight, Johanna spent almost every single day of the following fortnight in Lord Kenwood’s company. Still, Jo had to admit that it was not only her mother who beamed at the thought that Lord Kenwood would soon cross their threshold once again; Jo, too, found that his presence brightened her days.
With the temperature slowly climbing upward, they often promenaded through Hyde Park in the afternoon, freely sharing their respective mother’s delight with their courtship.
“Is this a courtship?” Jo asked one such afternoon as they were strolling past the Serpentine, its waters glistening in the bright sunlight.
Stopping, Lord Kenwood turned to look at her, a hint of mischief curling up his lips. Still, the look in his eyes held no humour, and Jo found herself drawing in a steadying breath. “As shocking as it might seem, I admit that I’ve come to care for you,” Lord Kenwood said, a teasing note in his voice. “Are you shocked? Offended? Appalled?”
Jo heard the mockery in his voice, and yet, the way he seemed to hold his breath as he waited for her answer told her everything she needed to know. “I assure you it is neither one of those, my lord. Perhaps surprised is a good word.”
Grinning, Lord Kenwood blew out a relieved breath. “Surprised I can live with. Surprised will not shatter my poor heart.”
Laughing, Jo shook her head. “You are quite dramatic, my lord. Sometimes I find myself wondering what it is you truly wish to say.”
Nodding, Lord Kenwood drew in a slow breath, his gaze earnest when it returned to hers. “You’re right, Miss Grey. I tend to use humour as a way of deflecting unpleasant thoughts.”
Holding his gaze, Jo asked, “Am I an unpleasant thought?”
His eyes widened in shock. “Oh, no, not at all. Quite on the contrary.” When he saw the slight blush that came to her cheeks, a smile grew on his face that revealed more than words ever could. “Perhaps I can try to speak plainly.”
“Do try,” Jo said, wondering if she truly wished to encourage him. “And I shall listen.”
Inhaling a shuddering breath, Lord Kenwood nodded. “Well, then. To be frank, I’ve come to care for you, Miss Grey, and by now, it is not only my mother who is hoping for a happy outcome of our courtship. I’ve enjoyed your company immensely this past fortnight, and I’m hoping you’ll grant me the pleasure of your presence for many days to come.”
“I’ve enjoyed your company as well,” Jo said honestly, realising that the thought of him absent from her life pained her greatly. As strange as it was, Lord Kenwood had become her sole reason for rising each morning with a smile on her face. Who would she be if he ever left?
“It would be an honour,” he whispered, his dark brown eyes holding hers, “if you would call me Brendan.”
Smiling, Jo nodded. “But then you must call me Johanna.”
“I shall,” Brendan beamed, his gaze momentarily shifting over their surroundings, and before Jo knew what was happening, he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. It felt warm and soft and safe. “I hope this was not too untoward.” A slight frown rested on his face as he watched her, all but holding his breath.
Jo smiled, pleasantly surprised by her first kiss. “Not at all.”
Pulling her hand once more through the crook of his arm, Brendan guided her farther down the path, his gaze often veering to meet hers as Jo contemplated the future that was now offered to her. Would she truly be able to marry for love?
Certainly, there was little doubt in her mind that before long Brendan would ask for her hand. That, he had made quite clear. But what would she say? Did she dare seek out happiness and marry a man she cared for?
Jo knew exactly what her friends from school would say, and a deep smile claimed her face.
***
Back on English soil, Colin felt as though now he was the foreigner setting foot into an unknown land. Although he was all too familiar with English society−thanks to his relentless tutor following his every step−Colin knew very little about what to expect from those he had left behind.
Thanks to Grandmamma Clarice’s letter, he could rest assured that there would be at least one welcoming face upon his return to London. Still, Colin could not help but wonder if his father would even recognise him. Would Owen’s parents curse his name should their paths cross by happenstance? Although Colin had no intention of seeking them out, he could not help but wonder if fate would throw them in his path, nonetheless. As they had made it quite cl
ear what they thought of him when they had sent him from their home after Owen’s death, Colin did not expect politeness in any form. Not that he blamed them.
And then there was Johanna.
Jo.
Ever since receiving her grandmother’s letter, Colin had been unable to keep the memories of their shared youth at bay. Every night, he had dreamed of her and Owen, and every morning when he had awakened, he had longed for nothing more but to return to that point in his life when all had been well.
With each mile that he had ventured closer to England, the need to see her had grown. Would he recognise the young girl in the woman she had become? Would their eyes meet, and the old familiarity with one another return? Would she still be able to see into his heart? Or would they meet as strangers?
That thought plagued Colin the most. Ultimately, he could accept the hatred of Owen’s parents or his father’s indifference as they were already-known facts. They would not take his heart by surprise for it had already suffered for them.
But Jo, she still held sway over him, and he burnt to know how it would feel to lay eyes on her again, to be in the same room with her, to see her smile.
If only the horses could move with greater speed!
Chapter Eight − Turning Over a New Page
Descending the staircase, Jo stopped when she caught sight of Brendan striding across the hall, a tremor shaking his hands. Still, even from up here, she could see the smile that clung to his features as though he had found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. “Brendan?” she called quietly so as not to alert her mother.
At the sound of her voice, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes finding hers with efficient accuracy. “Johanna,” he exclaimed, hurrying toward her and offering his hand the moment she stepped off the last step.
“I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” Searching his face, she tried to understand what was going on. “Let me just get my jacket and bonnet.”
As she tried to step away, he held her back. “There’s no need,” he replied, his voice throaty, almost breathless. “If you don’t mind, I would like to have a word with you.” He swallowed. “In private.”
