Chapter 1 #2
Josephine closed her eyes in pained denial.
‘Dearest, have you forgotten the Briggs brothers were responsible for Phoebe’s fall through the stable roof onto poor Higgins?
And let’s not even mention the pig race debacle…
’ She paused to shudder. ‘Just tell me, please, that you didn’t gamble sixpence with him – otherwise it will be the gossip of Knightswood village by now. ’
‘It will not!’ Matilda retorted with an obstinate purse of her lips. ‘For I won fair and square, and then I made Bertie promise he wouldn’t tell anyone which he readily agreed to on account of being beaten by a girl.’
Josephine stared at the defiant gleam in her sister’s eyes. ‘He didn’t agree, though, did he?’ she quizzed suspiciously. ‘Matilda Fairfax, did you wrestle Bertie Briggs? Is that how you got muddy?’
‘I may have arm-wrestled Bertie Briggs a little,’ Matilda replied mulishly, ‘but he called Knightswood chickens lazy layabouts! Our chickens! What else was I supposed to do?’
‘Did he now!’ Josephine scowled, her demeanour changing momentarily. ‘Now I’m almost glad you… But really, dearest, a chicken race and an arm-wrestle… if Thomas hears about this—’
‘But he won’t, for I shall change my dress, and neither of us will tell him. And anyway, I only came to share something that may help you write that gothic novel of yours…’
Josephine took a seat, unable to help smiling at her younger sister’s dishevelled ringlets and moorland flush as she withdrew a piece of folded newspaper from her pocket.
‘This is old, Matty,’ she observed as she took the sheet and pushed her spectacles up her small snub nose. ‘Nearly six years old, to be exact.’
‘I know,’ Matilda replied with a mischievous smile. ‘Just read … that part.’ She pointed out a small column in black type towards the bottom of the page.
‘“A dark and bloody duel in the county of Somerset has left Huntingly Manor in the hands of trusted estate managers for the foreseeable future”,’ Josephine read aloud.
‘“The scandalous affair between Lord Alistair Huntingly, heir to the Huntingly estate, and George Pellham, son of the late steward, took place not long after dawn on the morning of the 3rd of March 1820, and, while neither party was to be located subsequent to the duel, their seconds and the local physician agreed it was a very serious matter indeed.”’
‘You wish me to write a gothic novel about a scandalous duel with no dead bodies to show for it?’ Josephine quizzed.
‘Well, why not?’ Matilda grinned. ‘You loved Shelley’s Frankenstein, and who’s to say the physician didn’t stitch the duellists back together again?
They must have had need of his services for him to say such a thing!
But still, that isn’t the reason I brought it.
I looked it up in the library because I overheard Fred saying to Thomas that one of his old Oxford friends, who left for the continent six years ago amid a cloud of rumours concerning a murderous duel, had returned and that his name was Huntingly! ’
Josephine smiled as a gleam stole into Matilda’s eyes. ‘How very dark and mysterious!’ she replied, beginning to understand her sister’s intrigue.
Fred wasn’t the type of brother to keep bad company, let alone have a friend who’d been accused of murder.
‘Precisely so!’ Matilda agreed. ‘And I say there’s a story here which sounds far more interesting than any tiresome debut season.’
‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Josephine laughed, reaching forward to squeeze Matilda’s hand.
‘But you really shouldn’t think so, dearest, when you are the wild rose among us all.
You have Phoebe’s fire and Sophie’s eyes, even if you must put up with my gorsy, moorland hair!
’ She smiled affectionately. ‘So, there is no reason why you should not make the most ambitious match of all when it comes to the marriage mart. Yours is not the fate of the Fairfax bluestocking left on the shelf with her books.’
‘Oh, don’t say so, Jo,’ Matilda replied wistfully. ‘Our value should never be linked to success in a market which is prejudiced before we even begin…’
‘You sound like Phoebe!’ Josephine interjected.
‘But it’s true, isn’t it?’ Matilda sighed. ‘And, if I had the choice, I would forsake the whole thing and do something meaningful like become a nurse instead…’
Josephine frowned faintly as her sister trailed off to stare at the old magnolia tree that had witnessed so many Fairfaxes making their first escape.
‘Oh, Matty! Inspired by Dr Kapoor?’ she asked, referring to the mild-mannered doctor who’d overseen her own care since Phoebe’s marriage to the Viscount Damerel.
‘Yes, definitely Dr Kapoor,’ Matilda replied, nodding vigorously. ‘Though also Captain Elliot’s tales of his skirmishes in France, and of course both Alex and Thomas have seen some action too…’
‘Viscount Damerel or Alexander, Matty,’ Josephine corrected her sister gently. ‘And do you really wish to apply soggy bandages in the middle of bloody battlefields? I would have thought a rural hospital far nicer,’ she suggested, raising an eyebrow.
‘I would make a difference, if I could!’ Matilda declared passionately. ‘For how else do we know what we’re truly capable of, if we do not challenge ourselves?’
There was a brief pause while Josephine admired her obstinate, wilful sister who’d been born ready for life.
‘You are an inspiration, dearest,’ she replied genuinely, thinking of her own far less selfless pondering before she’d arrived.
‘And anyone who meets you would be a fool not to know what a talented and caring soul you are, soggy bandages or not.’
‘Pooh, much I care for all that! Unlike yourself when it comes to Sir Francis Percival Dashton,’ Matilda added with a wicked gleam.
‘Why? Whatever do you mean?’ Josephine replied, feigning nonchalance and failing miserably.
‘Don’t act all innocent with me, Miss dreamiest Fairfax of them all, though she protests otherwise! I saw the two of you over the New Year, tucked up in the library, talking books for positively years.’ She yawned. ‘Besides, your diary told me the rest…’
‘Matty!’ Josephine glared, trying not to laugh. ‘Sir Francis is very knowledgeable and pleasant to talk with, but that is all. I have no special interest.’ She nodded emphatically.
‘Oh really? So you won’t be interested if I tell you I overheard Thomas say to Harriet that he and Fred are coming down tomorrow for the rest of the May Day Fayre?
’ Matilda asked airily. ‘Something about Thomas not being free to judge the pigs, and Edward and Henry being in the middle of exams so unable to return – blah, blah – far too busy drinking Devil’s brew more like!
’ She smirked. ‘Anyway, I did offer to go in his stead but apparently I wasn’t good enough.
’ She paused to look most indignant. ‘As if Fred knows more than me about breeding sows!’
‘Matilda!’ Josephine groaned through a chuckle.
‘What? I thought you might want to know so you can, you know, make cow eyes at him while pretending to talk more books?’
‘Matilda Fairfax, you really are quite dreadful!’ Josephine protested, descending into helpless laughter.
‘And afterwards I thought we could challenge them to a game of tennis, if you’re feeling up to it?’ Matilda grinned, standing up and making her way towards the door. ‘I’d prefer fencing, but didn’t think either you or Fred would be keen on several rounds of competitive swordplay…’
‘Tennis is fine,’ Josephine agreed rapidly, ‘if Fred and Sir Francis are interested, but really, dearest, I don’t think we should plague them to join us unless they really want to. One thing I’ve learned about gentlemen is that they so rarely like to be organised.’
‘Well, this is where you and I differ! For one thing I’ve learned about gentlemen is that they so rarely know what they like at all, that the least we can do is tell them!’
‘Matty,’ Jo chuckled, throwing one of the window-seat cushions after her unapologetic sister. ‘I do declare you are the very fiercest Fairfax of all, and the world should be very afraid.’
Matilda laughed as she dodged the cushion and pulled a face. ‘You’re not that different, Jo, you just put your fire on paper instead. But I do believe the day will come when someone will ignite that bluestocking flame of yours, and then we will all have to watch out! See you at dinner…’
Josephine stared at the space her younger sister had occupied seconds before, wondering for the umpteenth time how they could be related at all.
Three long seasons standing at the sidelines of balls, assemblies and soirees had given her a very different impression of herself.
And yet perhaps Matilda wasn’t entirely wrong about some small Fairfax flame for while the vagaries of gentlemen were likely to tease her forever, she would protect her sisters come what may.
Wistfully, she recalled the many happy afternoons they’d spent in Phoebe’s bedchamber, before Thomas started planning for the future.
It felt like yesterday, yet now her sisters were building real families of their own, while Matilda waited in the wings and she…
Josephine drew a steadying breath. It was far better Thomas had one of them to help him with the estate, and she would always choose the company of books over those who thought her a wallflower.
She glanced towards her novels and mustered a smile – for who could be lonely with a trove of heroes beside her bed, after all?