Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
A Moorland Breakfast; Plum Jam and Thistles
The following morning
‘We could both join the army?’ Matilda suggested, as they trotted along the old bridle path that bordered the Knightswood estate.
Josephine wasn’t the keenest rider, but she’d felt a distinct need for moorland air this morning, and Matilda hadn’t taken much persuading.
She looked up from her quiet reverie, her eyebrows forking.
‘You and I both know that, unless a soldier was in need of an emergency poem, I would be a positive disadvantage on the battlefield!’
‘Actually, I think you’d be perfect!’ Matilda defended. ‘You’ve spent so long being nursed yourself, you’d know the inside of a medical bag without any training at all.’
Josephine chuckled. ‘Unfortunately, being invalid oneself does not in any way qualify one for nursing anyone else. And, in truth, I’ve had my fill of the medical world at the grand old age of two-and-twenty. I’m not sure I’d be terribly patient.’
It was Matilda’s turn to chuckle. ‘It’s not that you’re not patient, it’s just you’re rarely in the present…
You’re a thinker, Jo.’ She reined Misty, her elderly pony, back from the hedgerow dandelions.
‘Perhaps that’s what changed Thomas’s mind?
’ she added, frowning. ‘I mean, Lord Huntingly doesn’t know either of us, so he wouldn’t have any reason to prefer one above the other.
Thomas must have suggested your nature would suit him better after all…
In truth, I shudder to think what he said about me! ’
She broke off to laugh as Josephine looked away towards a distant hill covered in a haze of flowering gorse.
She’d managed to break the news about Lord Huntingly’s change of mind before dinner, but she still hadn’t told her of her visit to Huntingly Manor.
The last thing Matilda needed to know was that her sister had chosen to marry a likely murderer to protect her from the same fate.
‘I … don’t know,’ Josephine replied, a memory of the barely dressed lord in his cluttered breakfast room suddenly surfacing among her thoughts.
‘I don’t think he’s typical of most gentlemen.
The only thing Thomas said was that Lord Huntingly is in need of a respectable name to quell gossip since his return, and that he has little interest in outside distractions.
Perhaps our brother decided that my nature was better suited to this,’ she added carefully, guiding her pony around a ditch.
She crossed her fingers in the folds of her riding habit, knowing she couldn’t be more different to the headstrong lord.
‘And I suppose I don’t have too many options left after three seasons, I’m virtually on the shelf. ’ She laughed unconvincingly.
‘Oh yes, such an old lady at two-and-twenty!’ Matilda retorted, glancing at her sister. ‘I think we marry too young, as a rule, anyway. We’ve barely begun to think for ourselves before we’re tied to a gentleman who believes it’s his job to think for us! Anyway, what of Sir Francis now?’
Josephine frowned at her ready turn in thought. ‘Sir Francis could marry anyone he chooses, this season or the next, so I’d as lief not hang on until he notices me, for it is likely to be never!’
‘Oh, Jo, you’re much too good for him, anyway. I’ve always thought so. Sir Francis is much too in love with himself to ever love anyone else properly!’
‘Matilda!’ Josephine protested, unable to help laughing.
‘I’m not sure such a thing is even possible.
Sir Francis is an academic; he doesn’t talk or even think in an everyday fashion, so it’s not right to judge him by the same standards as everyone else.
’ She paused to collect her thoughts. ‘He’s well-travelled, well-read and unafraid to share his stories, and I for one admire that.
If I’d been born a man, I would have leapt upon the chance for a Grand Tour and be full of such stories myself.
Indeed, I may never have returned, so I’m most grateful he is generous with his knowledge for, if had been left to Fred, I would know nothing at all! ’
‘“Generous with his knowledge”?’ Matilda laughed, wrinkling her nose.
‘Well, if talking forever about the marvellous works of Michelangelo without allowing anyone else to get a word in edgeways makes one generous with knowledge, then yes, I suppose he is … but I think he just likes the sound of his own voice! After all, Darcy never expounded on the merits of studying Greek mythology to Elizabeth, did he?’ she challenged.
‘And however Fred puts up with all his guffawing, I’m sure I don’t know!
Still, I know you respect his literary studies, and for that reason alone I’m prepared to put up with him, which is not the same as wishing him for my brother-in-law. ’
‘Well, I’m very happy to spare you the pain of that prospect,’ Josephine replied, rolling her eyes.
‘Not that it was ever a likelihood. And while I understand Sir Francis can expound on any subject considerably, I do admire him because he is unafraid of expressing an opinion, unlike most of the young gentlemen I met in London, who seemed only to talk about horses and boxing! Besides,’ she added lightly, ‘is it not possible to admire a gentleman without imagining oneself desperately in love with him?’ She looked out again at the distant moorland hill.
‘Either way, I am to wed Lord Huntingly now, and the matter is quite settled.’
Josephine tried not to acknowledge the sudden tightness in her chest as she uttered the last words.
Her lung affliction had grown much milder under the watchful care of Dr Kapoor; the last thing she needed was a relapse because she’d allowed herself to become overwrought.
And despite all the rumours, there was no clear evidence that Lord Huntingly was an actual murderer.
Briefly, his scars sprung to mind, and Josephine forced her pony into a brisker walking pace.
She’d been afflicted by illness all her life – even the ton had rejected her as too risky to make a good wife – yet she had never let it define her.
By contrast, Huntingly’s appearance and behaviour would suggest the very opposite. She frowned.
‘So, what did Phoebe say about Huntingly’s proposal, anyway?’ Matilda pursued, catching up easily.
‘I knew little of his intentions when I stayed at Ebcott,’ Josephine replied, praying her inquisitive sister didn’t notice the telltale blush stealing up her neck.
‘But they have their hands full at the moment, and I suspect there is little she and the viscount could do to change Thomas’s mind – even if I wanted them to. ’
She broke off to muster a smile, pushing Phoebe’s wan face to the back of her mind.
Phoebe had been anything but silent on the subject, but her worried letter to Thomas had only brought him hot-foot to Ebcott, resulting in the shortest of conversations with the viscount and the swiftest of departures for herself.
Josephine swallowed. In truth, she’d been happy to depart and relieve the viscount and Phoebe of one headache.
She could tell the viscount was much too worried about Phoebe to lend her own situation much attention, and she wanted nothing more than her dearest sister to concentrate on recuperating just now.
‘And Sophie is too busy populating Grosvenor Square with miniature Rotherbys to have time for anything, so it’s just as well I am content, isn’t it? ’
A whistle sounded behind them.
‘Both our sisters are much too distracted,’ Matilda grumbled, having listened, with decidedly mixed feelings, to the account of her nephew’s dramatic arrival.
‘And I’m sure I’ll never understand how such small humans can have such large needs!
Anyway, it looks like we have company,’ she added, her countenance brightening as she glanced behind. ‘And I do believe it’s the boys!’
At this, Josephine’s spirits lifted too, knowing by Matilda’s tone that she couldn’t be referring to Thomas or Fred – Thomas never rode out this early and Fred never rode at all.
Their twin brothers, Edward and Henry, on the other hand, were keen riders and rarely off the sporting or hunting field when not up at Oxford.
‘Why have they returned mid-term?’ Matilda asked, slowing Misty to an amble so they could catch up.
‘Something to do with an exam exeat,’ Josephine replied, her brow wrinkling. ‘Not that either will open a book while they’re home, of course.’
She’d raised her voice deliberately to goad Edward, who grinned as he cantered towards them. Edward was the more serious academic of the two and planned to become a zoologist when he finished Oxford, while Henry nursed hopes that Thomas would buy him an officer’s commission in the cavalry.
To Josephine, however, neither would ever be out of their skeleton suits.
‘I take it you’re on the hunt for the Greater Crested Newt too?’ Edward called jovially.
Josephine smiled as the youngest Fairfax brothers, wearing fashionable cutaway tailcoats, fitted trousers and gleaming riding boots, caught up.
Neither could be termed a dandy, despite their fashionable attire, though Henry liked to consider himself a Corinthian, given his prowess in the sporting field.
‘But, of course! Or Duke Wellington’s grandsons!’ Matilda grinned, referring to the family toad who’d graced their bedsides for many years before croaking off to the great pond in the sky.
‘Great-great-grandchildren, you mean!’ Edward corrected with a wink.
‘Always so proper!’ Matilda teased.
‘Well, that’s a relief anyway,’ Henry said, ‘for we plan to breakfast over at the old stepping stones, and I thought for a moment we might have to share!’
He pulled a face while patting his overfull saddlebag.
‘Henry Fairfax!’ Matilda laughed accusingly. ‘I do believe Cook has made us all a packed breakfast and charged you to bring it us. And that she has sent my favourite plum jam, too!’