Chapter 7 #2
‘Look who has graced us with a visit, Josephine! I’m sure we’re both delighted to make Lord Huntingly’s better acquaintance, especially given recent exciting news.’
Startled, Josephine glanced at Thomas, but there was no hint of irony in his face, only genuine satisfaction.
‘Lord Huntingly has been kind enough to confirm his satisfaction with the new arrangements. He is a country man, with little interest in town and outside distractions, and feels your nature will be well suited to his lifestyle. I have to say, I am of the same opinion! Let me congratulate you, dear sister, for Huntingly has made a formal offer for your hand this morning, and I have accepted.’
Josephine blinked at her older brother as he wrung Huntingly’s hand before turning to nod approvingly at her.
‘It is a fine offer, sister, and I will ensure you have a wedding that befits your new status, for the Huntinglys are a very old family indeed.’
‘Old, but not ostentatious,’ Huntingly amended, his eyes never leaving Josephine’s face. ‘In truth, I would be quite happy with a modest affair, Fairfax, and I wager Miss Josephine feels the same way?’
Josephine managed to nod, blood drumming in her ears.
She had no idea how things had turned about so swiftly, only that Lord Alistair Huntingly had apparently decided to take her marriage offer seriously – and persuaded Thomas to do the same.
He appraised her now, his dark eyes taking her straight back to his breakfast room when he’d closed the distance between them.
It was such an intense, vivid memory that she felt a flush steal up her neck, prompting a gleam of recognition in his eyes.
She reddened further, aware she might still appear a figure of fun in his eyes.
Yet, whatever his reasoning, she’d done it, she’d changed his mind, and now their match would protect Matilda for a while longer.
Josephine lowered her eyes, searching for words while he seemed content to gaze. In truth, his youthful, clean-shaven face unsettled her more than she cared to own. He looked barely older than Fred now, which was curious for someone who’d lived so much.
‘I would be content with a very quiet affair, thank you, my lord,’ she murmured, wondering how differently her sisters felt when they received their offers.
‘Excellent!’ He smiled disconcertingly. ‘Didn’t I say we would deal famously together, Fairfax?
Miss Josephine has as little desire for pomp and ceremony as I, and she has already expressed a very particular view about the condition of Huntingly Manor…
’ His lips curled as he forced Josephine to recall her comments about the dilapidated condition of his ancestral home.
She swallowed and flashed a glance at Thomas, who was beginning to frown.
‘…which I found excessively fresh and useful,’ he added smoothly.
‘In short, Fairfax, I believe Miss Josephine will breathe new life into Huntingly Manor without exacerbating mine – which is precisely what is needed.’
‘Excellent … excellent!’ Thomas boomed, clearly relieved he wasn’t required to defend Josephine unnecessarily. ‘What say we toast this new arrangement at dinner? I might even crack open a bottle of my favourite Blandy’s Madeira to mark the occasion!’
‘I should be delighted,’ Lord Huntingly replied with a swift smile, ‘as I shall be to make your sister’s better acquaintance.’
‘Excellent!’ Thomas repeated, crossing the room. ‘And now I shall give the two of you a few moments in private. Suffice to say, I’m very happy to conclude this business with you, Huntingly – very happy indeed! Until dinner!’
Then Thomas pulled the library door shut, leaving Josephine alone with her new, most unexpected, fiancé.
‘You look perplexed, Miss Josephine,’ Lord Huntingly commented with a faint frown. ‘Yet I only came to make our agreement formal. If you have changed your mind, pray tell me now, for I am sure your brother will be understanding.’
Josephine’s eyes flew to Lord Huntingly’s, their amber flare just visible.
‘You do not know my brother, sir!’ she returned, a thousand thoughts racing. ‘And I can assure you that any surprise on my part is due to the fact that I thought my behaviour might have … scared you off.’
Lord Huntingly’s sombre expression changed suddenly, giving Josephine a glimpse of a sunnier face she barely recognised, before it faded again.
‘You really are most refreshing, Miss Fairfax,’ he observed, closing the gap between them with a few easy paces.
‘You are aware of my reputation, are you not? I cannot recall the last time anyone accused me of being scared of anything, least of all an over-protective bluestocking!’
Josephine lifted her chin, aware of a rise of chagrin.
‘But to be quite clear,’ he continued in a softer tone, ‘no, you didn’t scare me off, quite the opposite, in fact. And, in truth, I owe you an apology: I should have never asked you to remove your spectacles. It was most … ignoble of me.’
He was barely an arm’s length away now, towering over her with his chestnut eyes and derisive smile.
She stole a shallow breath, aware of the oddest rush of feelings.
This lord was so different from the one she’d encountered in the manor.
His coat was expensive, his manner sophisticated, his shaven face far more handsome than she’d ever realised…
Suddenly, Josephine realised the enormity of what she’d done.
She’d proposed marriage to the sort of gentleman she’d made it her life’s work to avoid, in the knowledge they would never find interest in her.
She flushed furiously. Perhaps Thomas was right; perhaps he would have dealt better with Matilda.
‘I’ve never before met a female prepared to make a lifelong sacrifice merely to protect another.
’ He raised an eyebrow, stilling her response.
‘Please, I have it on the best authority that nothing would induce Matilda to marry me!’ Josephine’s flush deepened.
‘And the fact you were prepared to risk your own reputation, in order to secure the arrangement, only makes your selflessness all the more admirable.’ He smiled then, but in a way that made Josephine’s toes tingle quite oddly.
‘Indeed, I can quite honestly say that I have not felt this intrigued by someone for some time, Miss Josephine, and as your offer makes perfect logical sense, I am quite content to move forward with the new arrangement. Which leaves you, my dear?’
He reached out then to take her hand and lift it to his lips – a move that took Josephine entirely by surprise – before planting a chaste kiss on her back of her fingers. It was the briefest of touches, yet the warmth of his lips startled her.
His eyelids lowered as she caught her breath.
‘There is no need for … any apology, sir,’ Josephine stumbled, ‘for I too am … quite content. I have not changed my mind, for the happiness of my sister is everything to me… And I shall endeavour to breathe new life into Huntingly Manor, sir, without interfering in your life at all. You have my word.’
Momentarily, he observed her, a faint quizzical light in his eyes. ‘And what of your happiness, Miss Josephine?’ he asked softly. ‘Or does that count for nothing?’
Josephine returned his regard, wondering if he was testing her. ‘My happiness shall derive from the satisfaction of knowing I helped a sister, sir, and that shall be enough to sustain me.’
‘Good grief!’ he exclaimed. ‘What a truly selfless creature you are!’
‘And what of my reputation?’ he continued in a low tone that made her feel curiously vulnerable. ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t be a little wary, my dear?’
Josephine swallowed as he echoed her inner thoughts perfectly, everything Sir Francis, Fred, Captain Damerel and Williams had ever said surfacing in vivid detail.
Viscount Damerel had referred to an Italian court ruling Pellham’s death to be accidental, and that Huntingly was innocent as a result – but on what evidence?
She crossed her fingers in the folds of her skirt. ‘I know little of your reputation that would make any real difference, sir,’ she replied carefully. ‘Indeed, if any of it were true, I would be even more eager to assist my sister, lest she befall a similar fate.’
At this, Lord Huntingly’s lips twisted into a crooked smile and, alarmingly, Josephine found she rather liked it.
‘By my troth, I believe you would,’ he whispered so closely that she could watch the amber flares dancing in his eyes. ‘Which makes you either very brave, or very foolish,’ he added, before leaning in to brush her lips with his own.
It was such a bold and unexpected move that she barely realised what he was doing before her lips were tingling unfamiliarly.
She stared up in shock, exhilaration chasing her veins, wishing for nothing more than to escape back to her bedchamber.
Yet, he only straightened and walked back to the fireplace as though they’d exchanged the most civil of pleasantries.
‘I shall be staying at the White Stag in town for a while and hope we can use the time to become better acquainted,’ he suggested, as though he hadn’t just stolen every logical thought from her whirling mind.
‘Thomas and I are both keen to conclude the matter this year, so I think we’ll find ourselves wed without too much delay.
I trust that fits with your expectations?
I am keen to rescue Huntingly Manor from its current state of decline and would like our union to be settled before undertaking any major work. ’
Josephine stared as Lord Huntingly talked, conscious of words collecting like stones in her throat. She knew she should be trying to order her wayward thoughts, but felt only the human equivalent of her very plain brown muslin instead.
‘I … can see little reason to delay, sir,’ she responded colourlessly, as Betsy arrived with a tea tray, ‘and a private affair will enable us to move swifter than most.’ She swallowed, searching for suitable pleasantries while her lips burned.
‘Excellent! I had a feeling our thoughts would be aligned, Miss Fairfax,’ he drawled, eyeing her in amusement until Betsy withdrew, ‘just not how aligned.’
‘Tea?’ Josephine tried valiantly, approaching the tea table and focusing all her attention on the small teapot.
‘Thank you.’ He smiled disarmingly, taking the seat next to her.
Josephine nodded and began to pour, determined to behave as though nothing untoward had happened, yet his teacup shook traitorously in its saucer as she passed it to him.
‘I trust the flavour is to your liking, sir?’ she asked in an attempt at distraction, though the question sounded pointed, even to her own ears.
‘Indeed,’ he replied, taking a drink with dancing eyes, ‘the flavour is very much to my liking. A small wedding, no objection to restoration work, and a skilled hostess – you are in danger of making me like the flavour a great deal, Miss Fairfax.’
Josephine nearly choked on a sip of her own hot tea. None of her literary heroes had ever lived on the page long beyond a kiss, and now she knew why: it was mortifying! She knew not where to look, what to say or how to think, but she could not let him know so.
She stood abruptly, unable to sit any longer.
‘I thank you, sir, but I am not renowned for my hostess skills, any more than I am for the features for which my sisters are celebrated. I am a Fairfax, it’s true, but other than a love of music and novels, I am the over-protective bluestocking you think me to be.
Please do not confuse this with an accomplished debutante, for I will undoubtedly disappoint! ’
Then she swept from the drawing room with as much dignity as she could muster, and when she finally reached her bedchamber, she closed the door in relief before turning to her looking glass.
Momentarily, she stared at the trembling, wispy-haired girl before her – her cheeks flushed, spectacles askew, and chest still pounding.
‘I do believe you enjoyed it!’ she whispered accusingly as she reached to touch her lips.
She’d read a number of passionate interludes in her novels, but nothing had prepared her for the violent sensations coursing through her veins now.
She was ashamed and unsettled and … aware of a very strange coiling at the pit of her stomach, all at the same time.
She flushed, recalling the promise in his warmth, even though she was quite alone.
Yet why would he look on her as anything other than a contract of convenience? The thought was like pure gravity, drawing her back to earth as she spun to vent her feelings about the perils of marrying a likely murderer, to her much safer fictional fiancé.