Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Ebcott Library; Old Paper and Scars
Later that day
The scent of old paper and sealing wax soothed Josephine as soon as she entered Ebcott library, Lord Huntingly’s parting words still ringing in her ears.
Every time she thought of her early morning mission, she reddened to the point that she barely knew what to think anymore.
How she’d ever managed to convince herself she could waltz into his manor house and propose herself as an exchange for Matilda, seemed so foolhardy now as to be ludicrous.
There was a reason she was still unmarried: she was everyone’s dearest sickly bluestocking, universally terrible at dancing and conversation, already wed to her books. Yet now, she was secretly betrothed to a … what? A shamed gentleman, for sure, but a self-confessed monster?
She caught her breath and flushed again, recalling the way he’d asked her to remove her spectacles.
It had been the smallest thing, yet distinctly unnerving too.
Was he trying to make her feel that way, to punish her for having the audacity to make such a proposal?
Or was it something deeper, something that reflected his own sense of self?
And then there was the fact he’d accepted her proposal, or at least claimed to, with a smile that made her wonder if it was the bravest, or most ridiculous, thing she’d ever done.
Was he, even now, writing a letter to Thomas and laughing at her?
Scowling, she reached out and ran her fingers along the worn spines of the novels closest. They were bound copies of Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park and Emma she’d insisted the viscount bought while she and several others were schooled under the watchful eye of Dr Kapoor.
How innocent and carefree those days seemed now, and how certain she was that none of their heroines would have ever made the blunders she made without trying.
‘I thought I might find you in here,’ a familiar voice called, interrupting her brief escape.
She smiled instinctively as her sister appeared in the library doorway.
Phoebe had been a mother figure to her for as long as she could remember, and no one could have been more supportive when her London seasons proved to be fruitless.
She’d even reminded Thomas that neither she nor Sophie had secured a match in the usual way, and that their marriages were much more the product of coincidence than strategy.
And yet neither had returned home after three seasons without so much as a sniff of an offer either.
‘I was just daydreaming about old school days,’ Josephine replied, half truthfully. ‘Are you feeling quite well, dearest?’ she added, observing Phoebe’s pale countenance and stiff stature.
Phoebe laughed and placed a hand in the middle of her back to accentuate the considerable bump beneath her loosened corset and skirts.
‘I’m not sure anyone can claim to be quite well with one of these ruling every thought and movement they make,’ she replied ruefully. ‘Truly, Jo, I’m not sure how Sophie has done it so many times already.’
Josephine laughed, though she was conscious of a stir of concern too.
Damerel and Phoebe had smiled through their efforts to become with child, while Rotherby and Sophie had made it look easy.
Then, when the news they’d all longed for had transpired at last, she’d suffered more than she’d bloomed.
Even now, in her final month, Phoebe’s usual colour and spirit hadn’t quite returned and, while she beamed with gratitude, Josephine could sense her discomfort too.
‘Sophie has always been the most practical of us,’ Josephine soothed. ‘She was destined to have a tribe of her own, while you, dearest, are one of the bravest – save for Matilda, of course!’
It was Phoebe’s turn to laugh. ‘Was there ever a Fairfax as daring as Matilda?’ She groaned. ‘And yet, her spirit and fire are so akin to my own heart, I cannot chastise her for it.’
‘We know!’ Josephine rolled her eyes.
It was an old joke among them all that Matilda and Phoebe were spirit twins, and that neither could criticise the other, even when their behaviour was clearly wanting.
Phoebe’s eyes danced as she took her sister’s arm.
‘It’s a pity they aren’t here tonight,’ she sighed, gently steering her sister out of the library and towards the dining room.
‘I do so miss them both, but considering Sophie is heavy with child, Matilda is distracted by the May Fayre and I didn’t even know you were coming, I shall just count my blessings instead.
I also have a small surprise for you too, dearest, a special dinner guest! ’
Josephine glanced up sharply, briefly considering the likelihood of Lord Huntingly following her back to Ebcott, to shame her in front of her sister and brother-in-law. A wave of fresh fear threatened, just as a footman opened the dining room door to reveal a jovial gentleman, smiling back instead.
‘Captain Damerel!’ she exclaimed in relief, abandoning Phoebe to greet the viscount’s good-natured brother who’d stolen all their hearts in Bath six years before. ‘And Dr Kapoor too,’ she beamed, proffering her hand to them both in turn. ‘It’s been too long!’
‘Miss Josephine, you are looking quite flushed and radiant,’ her childhood physician observed in his studious manner.
‘Of course she does, she’s come directly from Knightswood!’ Phoebe smiled.
‘I would I received such a joyous reception,’ the viscount observed, greeting his wife as though they hadn’t attended the village fete together that same afternoon.
Phoebe chuckled and returned his embrace with a warmth to which they’d all grown accustomed. Yet there was a flicker of concern in his eyes as they rested on her, before he leaned close to murmur something that made her blush.
‘And how is life treating you, Miss Josephine?’ Captain Damerel enquired as they took their seats. ‘Or should I ask how you have been treating life? For I am sure you have been taking the town by storm!’
His chestnut eyes danced as their first and second courses arrived together, including a tureen of white soup, turbot with a lobster sauce, and a dish of oyster patties served with a sparkling champagne.
‘Josephine has decided the chaos of the London season cannot compete with the peace of her books,’ Phoebe interjected, coming to her rescue, ‘and I for one do not blame her. When I consider how stifled I felt in Bath, it’s a wonder I ever found a husband at all!’
There was a ripple of smiles and chuckles around the table.
‘What?’ Phoebe defended. ‘If you are all thinking of the handful of misadventures that befell me…’
‘Handful?’ Her husband remonstrated affectionately. ‘You had more adventures that season than anyone I’ve ever met in my life! And I still don’t think your poor aunt has recovered from the sight of my ruined evening suit after your canal swim.’
‘I wasn’t swimming!’ Phoebe retorted. ‘And it wasn’t the suit that made a lasting impression!’ She side-eyed Josephine, who snorted into her patties. ‘Though it is true I’ve had finer moments,’ she added with a sigh, ‘and all while Josephine behaved like her usual angelic self, of course.’
At this, Josephine nearly choked on her wine, while all parties around the table eyed her with concern. ‘You were the one who rescued Matilda,’ she pointed out when she could, smiling reassuringly at Dr Kapoor. ‘I’m sure she wishes you could do the same now, too.’
‘Rescue her? From Knightswood or her impending season?’ Phoebe enquired. ‘Don’t tell me Thomas is talking matches already?’ she added, her brows drawing together sharply.
Josephine hesitated, torn between wanting to tell her sister the truth, and conscious she hadn’t yet broken the news of her morning’s work to Thomas.
‘Nothing official,’ she reassured, ‘though there has been mention of a few possibilities – including a Lord Huntingly, who has recently returned from the continent—’
‘Lord Huntingly?’ Viscount Damerel interrupted. ‘Lord Alistair Huntingly who owns Huntingly Manor but five miles away from us, across the border in Somerset?’
The table suddenly went very quiet, making her wonder if she should have said anything at all.
‘Yes, I believe so,’ she replied, feeling her cheeks grow warm. ‘Fred and Sir Francis knew him at Oxford, and Thomas mentioned he recently returned to his country seat in Somerset.’
The viscount glanced at his brother. ‘You know about this, Elliot?’
Josephine frowned. She’d expected the viscount to have a view, but the captain had only recently returned from duty himself. ‘Do you know Lord Huntingly?’ she asked, aware he suddenly looked much more sombre.
The oddest prickle crept down her spine, as the captain glanced at his brother before turning back to her.
‘I do indeed,’ he replied, though it was clear he was picking his words with care.
‘I had the pleasure of serving with him for a time, though he kept himself to himself, and we both sold out before the regiment was sent to the Gold Coast. Last I heard, he was in Italy, and then well … there was that business with Pellham … and now it seems he’s back in Somerset,’ he concluded with a swift frown.
‘I didn’t know he was considering taking a wife, though. ’
Josephine glanced from the captain to the viscount to Phoebe, before conversation was paused by two footmen who removed some of the dishes and replaced them with a glazed ham and fowl à la Montmorenci, garnished with a rago?t à l’allemande.
‘Why does the name Pellham sound familiar?’ Phoebe asked her husband as she accepted a slice of the ham. ‘Should we be concerned Thomas is considering Lord Huntingly?’
Josephine tried not to look avidly interested as her oyster plate was cleared.
‘You might remember the name from a somewhat infamous duel,’ the viscount replied drily.
‘Yes, that’s it!’ Phoebe nodded. ‘Wasn’t there a scandal? I thought they both disappeared?’