Josette

by Danielle Thorne

  Amy nodded as if resolved to accept his attention. He asked to show her the ballroom where they would be dancing and Josette moved aside, ruefully realizing that she was now alone with Carter.

  He stood behind her and she brushed against him when she stepped back for Amy to pass. Her shoulders thunked into his iron chest. For a moment she wished his arms would go around her in an embrace, but she shook her head to clear it.

  “I beg your pardon,” she mumbled and stepped forward, her cheeks on fire. She twisted the fingers of her glove uneasily, feeling quite the wallflower. There was almost relief when she saw Edward dodge Lady Berclair after taking a knee and making what most assuredly was pretty talk that she did not buy. The lady still fumed it seemed over the fact that he had joined them at Almack’s.

  “Captain Carter.” He bowed and Carter returned it, albeit stiffly. “I see you've returned to once again keep company with my cousin.”

  “It's good company to keep.”

  “Indeed.” He grinned devilishly at Josette who melted into a puddle of mortification.

  “Millerd has not claimed all of your dances?”

  Remembering the unhappy path of their last conversation, Josette did not smile but only made a small noise of disagreement.

  “It's Amy then,” he said, almost to himself as he turned to follow the couple on the way into the great room where dinner would be served.

  In the glow of candlelight, Amy looked angelic. Her neck and figure were formed to be admired.

  Josette’s sisterly pride dissolved into distaste however as she watched Edward rake the ladies around the room. “I thought you would be playing cards,” she said coldly, “or holding court with Mr. Sparrow.”

  “Yes. Later,” said Edward, crossing his arms, suddenly scholarly. He put a thumb to his chin and bit his lip.

  Carter stared and the unwillingness to engage him any further pressed the awkwardness of the occasion upon the pair.

  Josette struggled for something to make him go.

  Without warning, Carter reached for her elbow, saying, “I should take you in before there are no chairs to be found. Excuse us, Mr. Price.”

  A flash of surprise lit up Edward’s face, but he bowed. He gave Josette a churlish look then raised his chin as if someone had called his name and strode off into the din.

  ≈ ≈ ≈

  Josette could hardly eat with the hour so late and her unmentionables so tight but she managed to put something in her mouth saving her from the obligation of any conversation.

  Captain Carter, though frequented by acquaintances with many questions, seemed to have latched onto her as if to prevent her from having any comfort the entire evening. He did not let her escape when the orchestra struck up the first dance but said, “We must dance the next dance, Miss Price, before your admirers secure all of your promises.”

  They stood at the edges of the crowd and waited for the next reel. The angst at having to bear such closeness to Carter had now surrendered itself into a galloping heartbeat. Josette was aghast at her reaction to a simple request to take the floor. She had spent many evenings in the company of Carter. Her nerves had no precedent for such behavior, and she could not think what to do. She was scarcely able to draw breath, and her hands were trembling as if she were still a young miss.

  The dance began. He simply took her fingertips and she was overcome. Only one pass from behind was necessary for her to be aware of his entire being--from his wide shoulders down to his waist, his long strong legs moving behind her, his big black boots dodging her slippered feet. She could feel his breathing and imagined his heart strumming with the melody as they reached for one another and came together before turning reluctantly away. She could not keep from searching his expression, and her heart fluttered like a falling feather when their eyes met, and he did not look away.

  The stone façade he wore dropped and he followed her gaze with the same open sincerity she had not seen since he had visited her in Bedfield. She could not make polite conversation for her mind melted into a warm, buttery haze and her throat knotted with the anxiety of wanting to know his mind.

  It was over too soon, so soon that her legs did not want to stop. She took an extra step before catching herself and trying to dip appropriately and deeply in front of her partner.

  He wordlessly took her hand and led her toward the punch.

  Her throat had never been so dry. The warmness of the room felt like a deep, burning heat, and she fanned herself while trying not to gulp the punch down.

  An officer came up, another captain she understood, but when Carter introduced him the name went over her head in a cloud and she could only stand silently, willing herself not to be faint like a ninny.

  He asked her to dance again, and she merely nodded. No one around them seemed to notice or to care. Perhaps it appeared perfectly natural to see them together for they had arrived in the same party, and she was after all the sister of the captain's most favorite lieutenant.

  Josette had never had such a night. She reveled in every dance, every turn around the room, with Carter at her elbow. She smiled and talked happily with acquaintances and though she could find little to say to Carter besides yes, no, or thank you, she began to feel that she had never felt so happy as she did in this moment.

  Millerd, quite alone, found them and asked for a dance.

  Josette happily accepted, for she and Carter had already danced two, and she didn’t want to scandalize his aunt. Millerd still wore his congenial grin and she adored him all the more for his devotion and the flattering attention to her sister.

  “I think Amy is feeling better,” she said kindly and his eyes agreed.

  “I'm afraid I had to share her with some of the other gentlemen in the room,” he said pretending to be generous.

  “You are a good sort of man, Millerd,” laughed Josette. She looked for Amy but did not see her. “And does she dance well tonight?”

  “She dances well every night and grows more beautiful every time we meet.”

  “Which is often,” Josette teased.

  He chuckled shyly and would not meet her gaze.

  She asked whether he had seen Edward, and he nodded. They discovered they were both broiling in their many layers, and she dared claim she had it the worse.

  Carter was waiting for her it seemed, though she tried not be presumptuous.

  Millerd betrayed her perspirations and discomfort to his friend, and in a sudden burst of gallantry Carter asked if she would like to stroll out into the garden.

  “Walk outdoors?” she mused, surprised at herself. They had already dined and danced too many dances. To be sure a turn about the garden in the darkness would not fare well with the chaperones. She wished them all a little drunk as Carter guided her toward the set of open doors that led out onto a paved pavilion over a modest, manicured and fragrant Eden.

  They had no sooner stepped down into the cool of the evening when Captain Wilkins came striding from the shrubbery. He stopped at the trickling fountain where Josette and Carter stood, ignoring the floating candles beneath the cherubic sculpture. He was breathing heavily as if in somewhat of a hurry. “Miss Price,” he said fervently. “Caroline told me she saw you step out.”

  Confused, Josette looked for her friend but did not see her.

  Ignoring Carter, Captain Wilkins reached for her hand and gave her an urgent tug. “I must speak with you. Privately.”

  Josette heard Carter’s sharp breath from behind her. “Captain Wilkins,” she said, trying not to be cold, “I cannot imagine what you have to say to me that is so important.”

  He made a cavalier face and jerked his chin at Carter as if to send him off. “We have had many important things to say to one another before.”

  And before Josette could stammer, “No, indeed!” he pulled her toward him. “I insist,” he said in a voice laced with intensity.

  “Miss Price does not appear interested in a private conversation with you, Wilkins.” Carter’s voice w
as unmistakably threatening.

  “My conversations with Miss Price are none of your affair,” said the scoundrel as he stood his ground.

  Josette's stomach almost lurched right out her throat. She looked desperately back at Carter and saw only an iced mask. What could Wilkins possibly need to tell her she wondered? Then she realized the man knew much more about Carter than she ever would. Did he need to warn her of something? Was it about George? The child?

  She gave Wilkins a brief nod and turned coolly to the man standing taunt beside her. “Captain Carter, please excuse us,” she said quietly.

  The look of fury that streaked across his face made her step back. She tried to find something to say to make him understand, but he turned and pounded up the stairs toward the music before she could proffer any excuses.

  ≈ ≈ ≈

  Josette whirled on her interloper but had no time to berate him before he dragged her into the labyrinth of tall shrubbery. She slapped at his hands and balled a fist to strike him. “Let me go!”

  “Miss Price,” he said and not without amusement, “Caroline begs that you meet her in the tea room. She has gone to speak with her mother.”

  “What is it?” Panic crept into the edges of Josette's heart.

  “It's your sister.”

  “What?”

  “Private Fitzgerald took her out for some air.”

  “Fitzgerald!” Anger ripped through Josette, and she did not care to contain it. She grabbed Wilkins by the cravat and narrowed her eyes. “What has he done?”

  “The boy's blameless, unless we should condemn the fool for blundering across another man's dalliance.”

  “Dalliance?”

  “I'm afraid they crossed paths with your cousin Edward and that smarmy Rose Sparrow.”

  Josette gaped. Rose Sparrow? Plain, quiet, and bless-her-heart—dull Rose Sparrow?

  “He didn't,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “He did. He has. And your sister has taken it all in and fled.”

  “And Caroline saw her?”

  “Saw her emerge from the hedges in hysterics and run flying from the house.”

  “She's gone?”

  “I'm on my way to the stables now. I have a horse.”

  Josette released the poor man who despite the moment seemed to have enjoyed her aggression.

  He patted his coat down and smoothed his hair. “I will send word to Caroline as soon as I find her, but if you wait beyond an hour, I suggest you inform your Captain Carter.”

  Josette nodded, left him there, and ran for the ballroom. Poor Amy! What was she thinking? A girl like her could not run blindly through the streets of London. Panic-stricken, Josette wove in and around the silk-clad bodies pirouetting around the ballroom. Her eyes searched every corner as she checked behind the columns and plants. Hurrying to the tea room, she found Caroline waiting with a sheen of perspiration across her upper lip.

  “What kept you so long? I've told Mama everything. She is calling for our carriage after she has a faint.”

  “We've no time for fainting!” whispered Josette in a desperate hiss.

  “We've no room for scandal.” Caroline glanced around the room, smirked at a young woman sprawled out on a settee and lowered her voice even further. “Mama will send for the carriage, then for us, and we will return home.”

  “Not without Amy.” Josette's heart began to hammer so fervently in her chest she was sure her legs would buckle. “I'll go out. I can look for her, too.”

  “Don't be a fool. We'll wait up to an hour then we must depart for home. Don’t worry, Wilkins will find her.”

  “And if he doesn't?”

  “Then we'll have to tell my cousin.”

  “Carter?” Josette grabbed Caroline by the arm. “We must tell him now.”

  “Are you mad? He'll call him out. He'll make everything known to Mr. Sparrow, and his daughter will be ruined.”

  “I can’t save her at Amy's expense.”

  “Give Wilkins a chance,” Caroline insisted.

  Josette exhaled sharply with impatience.

  Caroline handed her a damp handkerchief, and they went through the motions of refreshing themselves. Loitering as long as they dared, they moved toward the ballroom with every nerve on the alert.

  Josette expected Amy to come darting out of a room at any moment in a fit of tears, but she did not appear.

  “I can not imagine what your mother will do with us now,” she said sorrowfully.

  Caroline pushed her forward through the ballroom doors. “You can't be serious, Josette Price. She lives for such stuff!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Beside the table spread with petite fours and biscuits, Josette watched a towering clock nestled against the wall until it finally settled on the hour. Almost simultaneously like a well-rehearsed play, she saw Lady Berclair collapse in a near faint, and Caroline rush from the crowd to be at her side. The carriage was called and Josette swept into the small party of those concerned. She searched for Carter and did not spy him and wondered if he had returned to Whitehall. Perhaps he would take a room elsewhere and refuse to ever see her again.

  Waiting for their wraps and for her chaperone to sufficiently recover, she noticed a cloud of smoke at the far end of the hall. A door opened and shut. There were gentlemen, she realized, still at cards. But this was not the main card room, for it was set far back and away from the festivities.

  She hurried down the long hall toward the door, her feet gliding over the floor. It was quieter at the back of the house and the smell of cigars and strong drinks unmistakable. Raising her hand to knock, she froze when someone swung open the door.

  “My dear,” a stranger cried, bowing so that his shirt opened shockingly at the neck fell open, “Come right in!” he chortled, and a chorus of men behind him joined in.

  They were seated at a round table with stacks of coins and cards.

  Josette waved the smoky air around and coughed. She blinked thorough the blue haze and found who she was looking for—Carter, standing at the far end of the room with one arm on the mantle staring into the fire. He had a drink in one hand and while she watched he tossed it back in one swallow.

  The drunken gentleman, if one could address him as such, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into the room.

  “Our company has come,” he announced and there was a smattering of applause at the table.

  Josette looked about the sea of glazed faces in horror. “Carter,” she called instinctively, and he spun about in surprise.

  “Oh ho!” cried her captor, and he tried to wrap his flaccid old arms around her waist. “There are no favorites tonight, Carter.”

  Carter was across the room in three long strides. He snatched Josette from the man's grasp with one hand and shoved him back so hard with the other the sot almost fell down.

  Instead, he laughed, and everyone joined in.

  “What are you doing in here?” Carter snapped. His eyes blazed in emerald menace. She thought he might turn her over his knee at any moment.

  “It's Amy,” she said. She tried not to cry, but her voice broke with fear.

  He took a breath to calm himself. “Out!” he ordered, and she followed him into the hall with bellows of dissent following them from behind.

  “Don't you ever step in to a gentlemen's room again,” he reproved angrily. “And at this hour. What would your father do but have to marry you off or call someone out?” He grabbed her by the shoulders as if to shake her.

  Josette momentarily forgot about Amy. “You leave my father out of this! I came for your help. Caroline was right. I should have left it to Wilkins.”

  “Where is she?” His tone no softer, boiled over with irritation.

  “It's nothing I did,” Josette snapped. She looked toward the front of the house and worried that the carriage would leave without her. “Amy has run away,” she said quickly. Her voice caught in her throat but she blinked back tears and forced herself to remain calm.
/>   Carter’s look instantly changed to one of concern. “What happened?” His mind seemed to race.

  “It was Edward.”

  “Of course.”

  “No, not like that.” She almost divulged Edward's kisses in the library but now was not the time. “Amy crossed his path in the garden and discovered him…” She struggled to be modest, though with George it had never been necessary. “Oh bother!” she snapped. “She saw him taking advantage of Rose Sparrow. Or her of him. Or they of one another.”

  Carter looked heavenward in disgust. He exhaled slowly as if to calm himself. “Where has she gone?”

  “We don't know.”

  “How long ago.”

  “Caroline told me to wait one hour.”

  “For what reason,” he demanded angrily.

  “To give Wilkins a chance,” Josette explained with some sheepishness.

  Carter blanched at the insult. His eyes went so dark they were almost brown.

  "We did not want you to…” She had no time to finish her sentence for Carter was running down the hall. To where he would go, she did not take the time to ponder but hurried herself for the waiting carriage. “Oh bother, indeed. There goes an angry man,” Josette whispered fearfully. She remembered Caroline's words.

  ≈ ≈ ≈

  The carriage ride home was frantic. Lady Berclair happily speared the ceiling with her cane, Caroline snapped at every bone jarring rattle, and Josette put her head into her hands to stop the madness. They hurried inside where Josette was ordered to her room like an invalid.

  “I'll wait in the drawing room,” she insisted but Lady Berclair swelled up like a goose and pointed up the stairs.

  The woman had not said one cross word about Amy, though she had painted Edward black as pitch. She had used the word “Hell” four times. Josette counted.

  To wait in her room was torture for a girl used to doing instead of enduring. She let down her short hair. Molly brought her tea and brushed her curls out. Josette soon sent her to bed. She preferred to pace the floors alone, and besides she needed the quiet to listen to the murmurs of the household below. If Caroline and her mother were to meet together, she would join them. There would be no strategies discussed without her involvement.