Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“Ido not think this is a good idea. In fact, I think it disastrous.”
Josphine squinted at Willa, trying to make out her features in the darkness of the hack. Willa never thought anything Josephine suggested was wise, but to be fair to her friend, she was almost always correct. Tonight’s adventure was likely a poor decision, but there were few alternatives.
“Lavisham has left me little choice. He ignored both my notes. And…” Josephine paused. “He ignored me at Lady Randall’s garden party.” The entire affair had been horribly embarrassing.
Josephine had dressed for the occasion, in a stunning gown of bright pink, with roses decorating the brim of her bonnet and around her waist. She’d followed Lady Brighton’s instructions to the letter which involved Josephine behaving in a modest, appropriate manner.
When Willa had pointed out Lavisham, standing in the midst of Lady Randall’s garden with the breeze ruffling his hair—
So splendid.
—Josephine had set out in his direction, with her friend trailing behind.
She’d felt confident. Brave. The very definition of capable.
Until a gorgeous young lady clad in seafoam green had stepped in front of Josephine only an arm’s length from Lavisham.
Miss Alise Runyon wasn’t as big as Josphine, but she was far more determined to get to the duke.
An elbow to the stomach and a slipper heel dug into her toe, and Josephine had lost her balance.
She’d fallen into a bed of hyacinth, crushing the fragile stems beneath her.
The only time Lavisham even glanced in her direction was when a stern-faced Lady Randall had discreetly suggested Josephine vacate the premises. Most embarrassing.
“That was not my fault. Lady Randall overreacted,” Josephine insisted.
“You attempted to attack him in the park.”
“I did not. I only waved at him.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have used her parasol—the ribbons at the end had startled his horse, who frankly, should have been better trained and less skittish.
Before Josephine had even been able to speak to Lavisham, the horse had sprinted off while the duke cursed and threw her a narrow, annoyed look before regaining control.
“His horse was too excitable. How was I to know? Still, it was a poor plan of mine, I grant you. However, I believe this evening,” she said with confidence. “To be an inspired course of action. After all, he who hesitates is lost.”
“You’ve never read Hamlet in your life,” Willa sniffed. “And I’m uncertain if that is the exact quote.”
“As a rule, I don’t care for plays.” Josephine shrugged, though Willa couldn’t see her.
“But the point is, there is no time like the present. I must strike when I can. I grow weary of my attempts to speak to Lavisham, and I cannot be the only Harrington to lose my inheritance. Honestly, this is entirely Lavisham’s fault. ”
“I think you prone to exaggeration.”
“He isn’t even at home, Willa.”
“How would you even know?” Her friend made a disgruntled sound.
“What if someone sees us? Our reputations will be ruined. I don’t want to be sent to Aunt Priscilla, which Mother will do if I’m caught up in scandal.
Aunt Priscilla smells of camphor and obsessively tats lace.
” Willa swatted the seat. “I can’t spend my days tatting lace. ”
“We will not be caught,” Josephine assured her.
“As I said, Lavisham is in Paris. According to my source, the duke may be gone until the end of the Season. I simply cannot delay my retrieval of the brooch until his return. Thus, I must resort to thievery.” She attempted a deep breath, careful not to fill her lungs too full as the buttons of her borrowed coat were already stretched taut across her bosom.
Josephine had worried about the fit since borrowing Isaiah’s stupid coat, a necessary part of her disguise.
The fabric was pulled so tight a button well might pop off and hit Willa in the nose.
Or an eye. Goodness, if her friend had to go about wearing a patch over her injured eye she might never forgive Josephine. Lady Brighton most certainly would not.
“I already told you, I have it on good authority that Lavisham is in Paris,” Josephine insisted once more.
“Really.” She could feel Willa’s skepticism fill the hack.
“I am positive.”
The ‘good authority’ was Lord Wilkes, a friend of Josephine’s brother Charles, who also, coincidentally, was closely acquainted with Lavisham.
Yet another sign that fate favored her. She’d hurried out of the drawing room when Wilkes was announced just the other day, hoping to catch him before entering her brother’s study, so that Josephine might convince him to take her to Lavisham, but she’d missed him.
So instead, she’d taken up a position just outside the study door, waiting patiently for Wilkes to depart.
Over the course of his conversation with Charles, Wilkes imparted a bawdy, amusing story about Lavisham, which ended with the earl inviting Charles to play cards with he and the duke, when Lavisham returned from Paris before the end of the Season.
Rather perfect.
“What about the servants?” Willa tried again. “I doubt the duke has closed his house. There is sure to be a footman or two wandering about.”
“I’ll evade them. I am silent as a mouse when the occasion calls for it. And if I see anyone, I’ll pretend to be a…stable boy.”
Willa made another worried sound. “You look nothing like a boy. Goodness, my brother’s coat barely covers you properly, and the breeches are somewhat…obscene in nature. If my mother finds out—”
“She won’t. I promise.”
Her friend did have a valid point. The breeches were incredibly tight, but that was to be expected, given Josephine’s hips which were broader than most. The seams were stretched to their limits. If one…burst, Josephine would…pour out and be half-naked, at best.
“But the boots fit fine with a little wool in the toes.” She tugged at the coat, feeling the strain of the buttons across her breasts.
Damn these ponderous…globes.
Male attire was wholly unforgiving of a woman’s natural curves. Josephine said a silent prayer of thanks that Isaiah’s coat was long enough to cover her backside. Or most of it. But it wasn’t as if she could scale Lavisham’s garden wall in skirts.
“I must insist we turn back,” Willa protested for at least the third time.
“I cannot.” Josephine gave a sigh. “Waiting until the end of the Season for him to return and then continue all manner of imbecilic attempts to speak to him will take far too long. This will be much quicker. He probably doesn’t even realize he has the brooch.
” She made a puff of frustration. “Thus, will not notice it is missing. Thank goodness I am athletically inclined, else I wouldn’t be able to break into his home at all. ”
“Yes, your supreme athleticism.” Willa cleared her throat with only a hint of sarcasm. “Which I’ve seen on display with great frequency.”
“I’m good at archery,” Josephine argued back. “Moderately.”
She was better at archery in comparison to, say…
fencing, but her bosom often got in the way of a carefully aimed shot, and it wasn’t as if she could rid herself of one breast, as the Amazons had supposedly done, to heighten her skills.
The Harrington footmen drew straws to see which of them would have to set up her targets and retrieve her arrows, terrified Josephine would hit one of them.
“I’m highly capable. My father always said as much. There is a reason he chose this task for me specifically.”
“Possibly he simply didn’t want your sisters or brother to know he lost a family heirloom in a game of cards.”
“So he entrusted the secret to me. Now, from what I know of gambling gentlemen—”
“Which is very little,” Willa injected.
“They tend to merely toss markers and whatever odds and ends they’ve won in a box or a drawer, most of which are then forgotten. Not the markers, which I’m sure they debate about calling in, but the odd snuffbox. Or stickpin. As I said, Lavisham probably doesn’t even know he has the brooch.”
“If he still has it. What if you find nothing?”
That would be rather problematic. “Father seemed to believe Lavisham still had the brooch when he assigned me this task. So do I.”
That sounded brave. I’m not sure at all.
“You are risking a great deal, Josephine. If you are caught breaking into Lavisham’s home, you’ll become a pariah, no matter that your brother is a duke.
And I,” Willa said dramatically, “will be sent off to live with Aunt Priscilla to spend my days smelling of camphor. I don’t even know how to tat lace,” her voice raised an octave.
“You need to stop saying that.” Josephine waved a hand. “No one will even guess that you’ve accompanied me. Even if Lavisham is in residence, which I assure you he is not, the duke would be unlikely to notice me roaming about his home. I told you, I’m stealthy. Like a spy.”
“Josephine, you are not. You are the furthest from stealthy.”
“I am. I’ve been practicing. I’m entirely capable of stealing the brooch.”
“Oh, good grief. We are doomed.”
“Willa, I cannot be the only Harrington daughter who must do without her inheritance. Father set this task before me, and there must be a reason.”
Father must have been deep in his cups to wager Grandmama’s brooch, which he’d considered an heirloom, though no one else in the Harrington family seemed to. Probably mortified to have lost it to Lavisham. Thus, Josephine must regain the family honor.
“I don’t think he intended that you should rob Lavisham of the brooch.”
“We don’t know what my father intended. Possibly he didn’t care for Lavisham. Our acquaintance has been brief but I think the duke unpleasant.”
“You’ve never spoken.”
“He’s scowled at me and appeared somewhat menacing. Now,” Josephine said as the hack neared their destination. “I will sneak in through the gardens—”