Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Lord Davenport’s Orangery; Blossom and Thorns
A few minutes later
The first thing Josephine noticed was the ease with which Miss Amelia led the way and fleetingly, she wondered if she too was in the habit of escaping.
‘Are you enjoying your stay with the Davenports, Miss Amelia?’ she asked, following her guide turned down a succession of corridors until she paused before a wide, lead-framed door.
There was a solid click before she turned back to smile. ‘Why, yes, Miss Charlotte Davenport is one of my closest friends,’ she replied, before leading the way into the vast and silent glasshouse.
Josephine paused, unprepared for the embracing warmth or intoxicating scent of honeysuckle, entwined with all kinds of citrus blossom. ‘I suppose the warmth enables Lord Davenport to grow more exotic blooms,’ she murmured with interest, as she closed the door.
‘Certainly, and the scent is enough to make one believe we could be in the middle of some Grand Tour adventure, rather than the wilds of Devon!’ Miss Amelia exhaled, her eyes shining. She picked up a nearby lantern. ‘Come this way, Miss Fairfax, and I’ll show you my favourite spot.’
Josephine smiled, too used to Matilda’s dramatic tendencies to be deterred, and she made a mental note to introduce the two as soon as possible.
Quietly, she followed Amelia’s slight figure along the winding path, through an arbour of flowering jasmine and back around some coppiced fruit trees, before she halted beside a small pond.
‘Edward would love this,’ Josephine observed, reaching out to touch one of the large water lilies. ‘Are there any frogs within? Or fish perhaps?’
‘Some goggle-eyed fish, I think,’ Amelia replied, ‘but don’t ask me their name! They are quite frightful to look at and remind me of a governess I once had. Pray, come and sit beside me. I do so long to make your better acquaintance.’
Amelia sank down onto a wooden bench, and patted the seat beside her in such a welcoming way that Josephine couldn’t help but oblige.
‘This is indeed a most welcome escape.’ Josephine exhaled as the gentle trickle of water calmed her ruffled spirit. ‘And I did so enjoy your singing, Miss Amelia, it was most musical.’
‘Oh, thank you! Though I do wish we weren’t always required to entertain in such a manner,’ Amelia replied, ‘for I find my thoughts are not always in an entertaining place.’
To this, Josephine agreed most readily.
‘However,’ she added after a pause, ‘it made for a very pleasant and welcome surprise for the gentlemen to partake! Particularly as they both did so with such passion and commitment.’
Again, Josephine found herself nodding in agreement. She’d often wondered at the equity of a society that placed so much emphasis on young ladies being skilled at entertaining, while young gentlemen could be skilled at anything they pleased.
‘Indeed, I do not know much of Lord Huntingly, for he is quite recently returned from the continent as I understand it, but I must admit to a little prior knowledge of Sir Francis.’ Miss Amelia lowered her voice bashfully, even though they were already speaking softly and at quite a distance from the main party.
She looked around furtively, as though they might be overheard.
‘But how fortuitous!’ Josephine replied kindly.
‘I am quite in awe of the gallant Sir Francis, who is staying with us at Knightswood presently, and is perhaps the most knowledgeable gentleman of my acquaintance. And I say this, despite possessing four brothers! Do your families know one another?’ she continued.
‘Or do you have a brother of a similar age? I’m aware you may be related to Lady Aurelia Carlisle, who is acquainted with my older sisters, of course. ’
‘Oh yes, of course!’ Miss Amelia replied, wrinkling her nose in thought. ‘But she is married and quite dreadfully old now,’ she added dismissively.
Josephine suppressed a chuckle at the infamous Lady Aurelia Carlisle, now the Baroness Aurelia di Caserta, being called old at the age of four-and-twenty.
‘But yes, you are clever to guess that Sir Francis and I know each other through family connections, for his mother has been the bosom-friend of my own mother for as long as we both can recall.’
‘That is indeed fortunate,’ Josephine replied wisely. ‘For, if parents are friends, friendships between sons and daughters have already begun.’
‘Oh yes, Miss Fairfax!’ Amelia replied, her blue eyes as round as teacups. ‘That’s it exactly, and I knew you would understand. I could just tell from your face!’
Josephine smiled, mystified her face alone could say anything of real consequence, but content Amelia was happy anyway.
‘You see, I have a very particular kind of friendship with Sir Francis,’ Amelia continued in a confiding tone, ‘and I feel I might just burst if I don’t tell someone.
Charlotte Davenport is quite addle-pated, and to be within such close proximity and have one’s secret poem spoken aloud like an affirmation … well, you can just imagine!’
At this sudden and startling confession, Josephine stared, unsure if she’d daydreamed and missed a crucial fact.
Yet somehow, she knew she hadn’t. The oddest feeling swirled in the pit of her stomach as Amelia’s eyes lit up like two moonlit pools, and her whisper softened until it was barely audible.
‘One’s shared secret poem,’ she emphasised in case Josephine had missed any part of her meaning at all.
The swirl was replaced by the most curious sense of dread as Josephine forced a smile.
Yet she could hardly understand herself.
What difference would any romantic confession make to her?
She had no agreement with Sir Francis, quite the opposite in fact, and she was betrothed to someone else entirely.
‘Are you telling me you have an understanding with Sir Francis, Miss Amelia?’ Josephine asked, her tone oddly unnatural.
Thankfully, Amelia seemed not to notice.
‘Why, yes!’ she exclaimed. ‘You really are the cleverest thing, Miss Fairfax! And I daresay you guessed by the longing expression on his face when he recited our poem? In truth, I knew not where to look through most of it,’ she continued without drawing breath, ‘as I was sure someone might note his melancholy air when he gazed in my direction.’
Thoughtfully, Josephine recalled Sir Francis’s performance. She hadn’t noticed his gazing at anyone in particular, or indeed anything less than his usual delight in sharing his knowledge. Yet, she had been distracted.
‘I can assure you I did not guess,’ she replied honestly, ‘and I will say nothing of your confidence, of course – except to wish you well, for I’m sure your families must be delighted!’
At this, Miss Amelia’s face fell, taking Josephine’s hopes of a speedy exit with it.
‘Well, no not quite,’ she whispered, looking singularly downcast. ‘You see, Sir Francis’s family, while entirely respectable, are experiencing hard times, and he will not offer for me unless he can keep me in the style to which I am accustomed.
Is it not the most romantic thing, Miss Fairfax?
’ she asked in a plaintiff tone. ‘We are doomed, quite doomed, and all we have is a secret love poem which he recites like a dying pledge, and I cannot bear it another day!’
Josephine could think of many things she would find considerably more romantic, but decided against sharing them as Amelia began to sob.
‘Dearest Amelia, please do not cry, I beg you!’ Josephine exclaimed in an aghast tone. ‘Can I be of any assistance perhaps? Speak to Sir Francis and convey a message, or—’
But before she could finish her thought Miss Amelia looked up, as though her heart hadn’t just been breaking at all.
‘Why, you are the kindest creature, Miss Fairfax!’ she replied in delight.
‘I thought you might be kind, I can just tell a good soul, and so I have already prepared a little something for my Francis here. Oh, and please do not think me forward if I call him that, it has forever been my habit to do so,’ she added with a beaming smile.
She pulled a lavender-scented letter from her reticule and waved it triumphantly.
‘Here it is!’ she announced, much in the manner of a magician producing a rabbit from a hat.
‘If you could give him this letter and whisper that I await his response longingly, I would be most grateful!’ She sighed happily before standing up.
‘Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Miss Josephine. And now I must return before my Francis abandons all caution and comes looking for his Amelia!’
Then she was gone, together with the lantern, leaving Josephine in the gloom clutching the perfumed letter.
For a few moments, Josephine stared at the goggle-eyed fish and tried to rein in her own spiralling thoughts.
She wasn’t in any way beholden to Sir Francis, so why would she feel anything about his secret understanding?
Yet she did. Her chest thumped uncomfortably, and she had the most disconcerting feeling that she’d been woken, quite abruptly, from a delightful dream.
‘Am I disturbing you, Miss Fairfax?’
At this fresh intrusion, Josephine sat bolt upright, and nearly consigned Amelia’s lovelorn missive to the goggle-eyed fish.
‘Lord Huntingly?’ She swallowed as his distinctive person emerged from the gloom, starkly conscious this was the first time they’d been alone since the library.
‘Not at all,’ she replied. ‘I was merely getting some air before returning to the drawing room. In fact, I can recommend this seat, it is most … restful.’
She stood up swiftly, secreting the letter among her skirts.
‘Pray do not leave, Miss Josephine,’ he urged, moving forward. ‘I came to find you as I noticed you’d slipped out. I wondered if you were quite well.’