Josette

by Danielle Thorne

  He gave a bow.

  A girl beside him made a curtsy.

  Carter did not miss a beat.

  “Welcome to Ashford Hall, Miss Price. I am sure my aunt will be happy to see you have come.”

  So great was her surprise, Josette could only stare. To think that Carter had sallied to London and back again amazed her. What could be so enticing as to draw him back to the country?

  “My cousin, Miss Caroline Berclair,” he said with a quick motion toward the striking redhead.

  The girl, about Josette's own age, held out a hand. Her creamy complexion glowed in the flicker of candlelight.

  “Josette Price, I've heard nothing but accolades.”

  “Indeed?” Josette answered, with a pensive look back at Carter.

  Carter greeted Amy with less of his usual reserve. He was almost captivating in his uniform. Foregoing any wig or powder, his longish hair shined like an onyx gemstone, not unlike the copper braids on his cousin’s head.

  The crowd of bodies swept Josette into an ornate green saloon, and she realized with consternation that she had lost Edward's arm. She looked about the room lined with chairs, and saw a piano and an impressive harp that Caroline would likely be plucking. A modest fire crackled from within an impressive hearth, and the oils of plantation landscapes and former proprietors of the estate hung on the walls.

  A plump, aged woman, no doubt Lady Berclair herself, was holding court in a velvet-covered chair by the firescreen. She caught Josette's eye and in a loud voice called, “Come here, Miss Price.”

  Josette, having no choice but to obey, walked through bodies of men and women that parted like the Red Sea. Painfully aware of the drab color of her gown, she squared her shoulders and raised her brows. The future mistress of Beddingfield Park would not be cowed. She curtsied before the old dragon.

  “How is your mother?”

  “She's well.”

  “And you are Josette, the eldest girl?”

  “Yes, your ladyship. My sister is...” Josette looked for Amy and spied her latched onto Edward's jacket. “She is with our escort, Edward Price.”

  “Your cousin?”

  “Yes.” Josette smiled to excuse Edward for not being pasted onto her own arm.

  “Of course. We were introduced when you were all but children. I don't recall your sister's coming out.”

  “It was just last year.”

  In one breath the woman said, “I'm very sorry about your brother. You are acquainted with my nephew, I understand?” Lady Berclair gave a meaningful tilt of her head, and before Josette could summon any false compliment he was beside her.

  “Phillip,” his aunt ordered, “Take poor Miss Price and find her a seat.”

  Josette flushed at the idea that she was helpless. “I can find my own chair, thank you,” she said coolly, and Lady Berclair frowned. “My grief has not overcome me to that degree,” she muttered.

  Carter moved to take her arm but she hurried past him. Phillip? Josette's mind scrambled for a response to the feelings that churned in her vitals. What a peculiar Christian name for him. She had not known it and quickly decided that it did not suit.

  Edward had placed himself between two of the prettiest ladies in the room, one being Carter's cousin, Caroline, and the other Josette’s own sister. Amy appeared to be observing the occasion with a keen interest but there was a faraway look in her eyes similar to their Papa’s when plagued by weighty ideas.

  With no choice, Josette took a lone chair and dared anyone to gawk. A familiar-looking gentleman with brownish hair and a puce waistcoat took a seat one away from her and smiled.

  Josette pressed her lips together and leaned slightly to the left. A row ahead, her own party whispered in serious conversational tones with Carter’s cousin. Amy's dress was almost amethyst, and Miss Berclair’s emerald. Together they look jewel-like, and with heads ducked together, intriguing. A break in the general conversation of the room as Lady Berclair cleared her throat, allowed Josette to catch the last of what Caroline was saying: "…that she wasn't half as spirited as the younger sister."

  As if in reply, Amy, finding her in the crowd, gave her a flitting glance.

  Josette strained to hear more but it was lost as the other guests seated themselves. She knew immediately it was her self of whom they spoke, and there was only one person in the room who would not find Josette Price spirited. Upon that determination, he took a seat right beside her.

  Josette stared at the tiny program in her hands and tried to make sense of the words. She was aware that the pianoforte was being played, but more so, was attuned to the intimidating presence only a hair’s breadth away from her side.

  “How is your mother?” asked Carter's deep voice, and to her dismay, Josette jerked in surprise. “She's well.”

  “And your father?”

  From the corner of her eye, Josette sensed him staring straight ahead as if intrigued by the music. She suspected it was a struggle for him to find anything amiable to say. “My father is managing.”

  “And you and your sister?”

  Josette looked down at the somber hue of her gown and shuffled her feet. Why did he quiz her so? How long did it take for one to move past the agony of losing a loved one? “I’m sorry I cannot tell you that we have happily forgotten our brother.”

  “I did not wish to hear it.”

  “Then what did you wish to hear?”

  “That you have, at the very least, found solace.”

  “I’m certain my sister has.”

  “I am sorry to hear it.”

  Remembering his deceitful impression of George’s death, she countered sharply. “It would have been helpful to know precisely how my brother passed.”

  He glanced toward her with some confusion.

  “My cousin was the one to inform me of how it came about.”

  After a few passing moments, Carter said, “It does not matter how he gave his life. I would never paint him any less a hero to any man or any family.”

  “You truly believe that?” she asked in distain.

  “He was one of the best officers I have ever known. I did not wish to further your pain.”

  This left Josette with nothing to reply, and she strained to force her attention on the performance.

  The captain cleared his throat and crossed one ankle over the other. After a very competent stanza, he said, “You intend to perform with your sister?”

  “It's written on the program.”

  “I'm sure it will be first-rate.”

  “I play for Amy to sing.”

  “She sings well.”

  “Like an angel.”

  “And looks the part this evening.”

  “I'll be sure to tell her so.” Josette gave the captain a quick glance. In profile, his nose was rather large and straight. His eyes, green and oval, were framed by short, dark lashes. He had a pretty jaw with high cheekbones but his mouth was masculine and full. He shifted his gaze to her at her evaluation, and she blinked, turning quickly back to the fire blazing at the front of the room.

  The audience applauded, and Josette joined them. Her mother's fan, dangling from the scarlet cord on her wrist, jiggled rebelliously. She caught it up and folded her arms in her lap.

  Beside her, Captain Carter shifted in his seat as a young woman stood to sing. It became more akin to yowling after a few moments. He sighed.

  Josette sniffed to stifle a laugh. What would he think of an unspirited woman who giggled during concerts?

  To her surprise, he leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “I met your cousin in London.”

  “Yes, he informed me he made your acquaintance.” Josette found the reply difficult because she could suddenly smell Carter as strongly as she could feel him. Sea damp and sunshine, and something very fresh, like laundered linens. She closed her eyes and the scent traveled from her nose, down into her throat, and she swallowed it. Her eyes snapped open. Bother! What was she doing? The girl trying to sing shimmered like a
distant mirage. Josette struggled to focus on her.

  Again the man beside her shifted in his seat, and she sensed his uneasiness. Good! He deserved his discomfort. Why had he chosen to sit beside her if he found her so wanting? And what made him smell so appetizing? She angrily rubbed her nose. It seemed as if each performance grew shorter the closer it came to Amy's turn. When they were announced, Josette jumped out of her seat and maneuvered out of the row.

  The pianoforte was a welcoming diversion. She ignored the ogling and concentrated only on her fingers as they drifted across the ivory keys attuned to the rise and fall of her sister's timbre. She had practiced for it and knew in her heart as the music intertwined with Amy's voice that she was far above competent for the occasion.

  A thunderous round of applause punctuated the finale and though she knew it was for Amy, she felt a surge of satisfaction. They had performed as well as any other, if not better.

  Her gaze swept the appreciative crowd all at once but it was Captain Carter who caught her eye. He was not smiling although his hands clapped in polite time. It was his stare, of such intensity and directed at her alone, that made her knees wobble in her curtsy. She abruptly took the nearest seat leaving Amy standing alone. The man had the strangest effect on her posture.

  ≈ ≈ ≈

  Caroline Berclair closed the evening with the harp, a selection so beautiful it almost made Josette weep. As the doors on the far side of the drawing room opened into another room laden with refreshments, Josette passed through the throng determined to attach herself to Edward's elbow.

  Lady Berclair, with the man in puce, intercepted her. His name was Mr. Millerd, and he was followed by Caroline.

  “You have a talent for the pianoforte, Miss Price,” Caroline declared.

  Lady Berclair abandoned them for other pressing matters as Amy and Edward joined them.

  “And you play the harp as angelically as my sister sings.”

  Amy blushed.

  Caroline smiled. Her eyes were as green as Captain Carter’s, but cat-like.

  “Miss Berclair has a gift,” Edward interjected. He bowed.

  The gentleman, Mr. Millerd, said, “I have never seen a finer collection of prettier girls and no better music.”

  “Girls?” teased Caroline. “Millerd, really. As if we're children.”

  “No, certainly not,” Millerd relented. He tugged at his cravat and smiled anxiously at Josette who could not help but feel bemused.

  “And what did you think of my performance, Miss Berclair?” Edward grinned, teeth glowing.

  “You know you did well, you beast,” laughed Caroline, and Josette took a sip of her punch to avoid having to join her.

  “Edward was magnificent,” Amy declared in a sudden burst. “He will be a tremendous author some day and take London by storm.”

  “Why he's already done that,” Caroline insisted.

  “He's certainly taken Beddingfield Park by storm,” agreed Josette.

  Edward beamed. “My beautiful cousins make it a pleasure.”

  “Breathtaking, I say,” added Millerd, and Josette squirmed.

  Edward took Amy's hand from his arm and pushed her to the center of their circle. “Take a whirl, kitten, and show them your pretty gown.”

  “Oh, Edward!” cried Amy and she blushed furiously.

  “I've never seen you so modest,” Josette declared. “It suits you.” At this sisterly betrayal, Amy grew even redder.

  The sound of Captain Carter's voice caught Josette off guard. “Your modesty is to be admired, Miss Price. It makes you all the more pleasing.” He bowed to Amy and continued, “I've never seen a room full of lovelier ladies.” Though he managed this without any enthusiasm, the group burst into gales of laughter, and Edward slapped Millerd heartily on the back.

  “You were completely right, man!”

  “I was just saying so,” Millerd explained to Carter, who colored slightly.

  Josette smiled. “How inspirational that you share the same sentiments of these gentlemen, Captain Carter.”

  Cleary he did not like sharing compliments with either Edward or Millerd. Rather than respond to her baiting, Carter merely looked her over with indifference.

  “And you Miss Price,” Millard interrupted, “are the prettiest of them all, if I may be so bold.”

  The amusement at Carter’s expense came to a breathless halt. Josette looked from Millerd to Amy. Carter cleared his throat, and she was certain he laughed from behind his mask.

  “Have we complimented one another to everyone's satisfaction?” Caroline asked.

  “Let's take a turn, ladies. It's uncommonly warm in this swarming room.”

  “I’m dying of thirst,” said Amy. “Edward, won't you fetch me something to drink?”

  Edward made a gesture and hurried away, but not without calling back, “And for you Miss Berclair?”

  Caroline shook her head. She took Josette by the arm and moved over to a window that had been cracked for circulation. They both opened their fans and began to cool themselves.

  “Tell me, Miss Price, how long will your cousin be at Beddingfield Park?”

  “I believe he plans to stay until the Season.”

  “Will you join him in London?”

  “I’m not certain we will go to London this year. Edward will return to find a new distraction.”

  Caroline gave a chuckle, and Josette took the opportunity to ask, “And your cousin, Captain Carter. How long will he be with you?”

  “Phillip?” Caroline made a careless gesture. “I haven't seen him in years. He was fond of my father but since his death and that filthy Bonaparte we're lucky to see him at all, and even then at his father's home.”

  “His family has an estate in Ipswich?”

  “Yes, and he a modest situation of his own. His elder brother will inherit, worthless thing. Phillip’s on shore leave since his last commission. Disastrous affair. But of course, you know.”

  Josette nodded at the unspoken insinuation.

  “He was very fond of your brother.”

  The pair made a turn, and Josette pressed her lips together in a polite smile.

  “Why I don't recall a time we've ever seen so much of him,” Caroline said.

  “He stayed with us for some time after his arrival.”

  “Yes, so I recall. And that place in the village.” Caroline looked sideways at Josette and lowered her voice. “It's hardly proper,” she said in an accusing tone, but then looked away and smiled at someone.

  “Village?” Josette repeated with some confusion.

  “Bedfield. He takes care of matters there--with the child.”

  “How kind,” Josette said. She did not understand what Caroline implied and would not share in the satisfaction of a conspiracy.

  “Indeed,” Caroline breathed. “At least he found the little thing a home.”

  Josette nearly tripped over the hem of her gown. She searched the room and found the captain standing over his aunt's shoulder enduring what appeared to be a droll inquisition.

  Captain Carter placing fatherless children in country villages? What could he be at? For a moment the idea that his visit to her family had been a sham, if not opportune, irritated her. He had important business in Bedfield after all. Business his relatives were not approving of.

  “It was very kind of you to include us,” she said after a long pause in which Caroline seemed to be waiting.

  “Yes,” said the redhead. “Though I'm sure mother would have thought of it even without Philip's determination. And despite the state of affairs,” she added quietly.

  Josette blinked. “We hope to have you to dine with us before the year is out.”

  Caroline condescended to a little dip in reply. They finished their tour back into the arms of Edward and Millerd who were contriving to start a game of cards, but Josette refused. Motioning to Edward with as stern a composure as she could manage, she insisted they start their long way home. He acquiesced, but unhappily, and Amy
took Caroline warmly by the hands and begged that she could write.

  ≈ ≈ ≈

  As if by design, Carter was at the door waiting to escort them out to the carriage.

  Caroline had drifted away into the arms of her other admirers.

  “My aunt is pleased you could come. And everyone the better for sharing your talents.”

  Amy beamed at his compliment. “You will come to Beddingfield Park again? Papa sends his best wishes.”

  Josette grimaced at her sister's impulsiveness even as Carter nodded.

  “And when does the siren of the sea call you back, Captain?” Edward bounced into the carriage behind Amy, the both of them leaving Josette in the heavy cold.

  Edward’s question earned him nothing more than a stone-faced reply, saying that when the Admiralty sent word and not a moment sooner.

  “Then you will be missed,” Josette said with bite. “But I'm sure you would prefer a command rather than escorting your aunt's protégées to every soiree that London can offer.” She gave him a curtsy but let him take her hand and help her into the carriage.

  “I prefer home and a chair in front of the fire, Miss Price,” he insisted. Josette wondered at his queer defense. Before the door was shut, he met her inquiring mind with a fixed gaze that took her once more by surprise. Why should it matter to her, what he fancied?

  After the door closed, she huddled up beneath the heap of heavy furs and sighed sleepily to herself.

  “There's a strange fellow,” Edward said to no one in particular as they drove away.

  “He's very kind,” Amy offered.

  “So is Bernard,” Josette reminded her, and they broke into giggles only the depths of fatigue could arouse. Suddenly Josette remembered his remarks and sat up straight. “Amy, tell it, did he really say I was unspirited?”

  “Did he what?” Amy asked in startled response.

  “Did I not overhear it said that he found me unspirited, when compared to you and George?”

  “Oh, Josette,” Amy yawned, and she waved her sister off in the dark. “Go to sleep, you suspicious thing. He only said that you were spirited but not as brash as George by half.”

  “I love a brash woman,” Edward said with a wicked drawl, and Amy giggled.