6
“It is only a short drive,” Robert said as they settled into the carriage the next morning.
Jo did not dare to ask why they were driving instead of walking when it was so close.
“How… what are they like?” she asked as the carriage rumpled out of the driveway.
Lord Thornston’s words that Robert’s mother would be angry had kept her up for several hours last night and woken her early this morning. She had made several lists on how she could make a good impression on Lady Barforth, depending on how angry she was.
Robert did not answer immediately but made a sound that let her know he was considering the question.
“They will all be surprised but welcoming, I assure you,” he told her.
“I cannot wait to meet them,” she told him – because what could she say? – and hoped that he would not notice that her voice was hoarse with nervousness.
Her comment made Robert offer a close-mouthed smile.
It was nothing like the one he had given Thornston yesterday, but she could hardly expect as much, Jo told herself.
In general, he had been friendly although a bit aloof this morning.
There had been no indication that he remembered their kiss, let alone wished to repeat it.
Jo decided to push the matter from her mind as she went over the steps from her list in her head and looked out the window:
“Be smiling and engaging. Apologize, if necessary, but only if Lady Barforth mentions her disappointment or seems angry. Topics to discuss: Lady Barforth’s social engagement the rest of the season, Riddlesmarsh Hall, Barforth Castle, Lady Barforth’s children?”
The houses here were much larger than in the part of London where Beatrice and Mr. Oakley lived.
The sun was already shining brightly, and she felt the urge to be alone on the beach close to Seaglass Cottage.
She would look at the sea for calm, then at the ground for pretty stones, while she walked until her legs were sore.
It would empty her mind slowly and by the time she returned to the cottage, she would feel better – even if nothing had been resolved.
But she was not there and had no idea where she might go for a solitary walk in London. Was she even allowed?
The carriage stopped in front of a house just as impressive as Robert’s, this one in stones that were slightly darker and the details around the windows were black.
Jo was very pleased that her portmanteau had arrived from Beatrice’s house before they left and she had been able to change into a different dress, a light blue day one that she had felt accentuated her grey eyes and the golden streaks in her hair.
She was not certain it was fit for a duchess though, but Robert had not commented on it, which she took as a good sign.
Robert helped her from the carriage and Jo was relieved she was wearing gloves so he would not be able to feel her damp palms. The Barforth butler was not fazed in the slightest by Robert presenting Jo as his wife but seemed a little put upon when Robert told him that they would introduce themselves.
Jo paid little attention to their interaction though and merely followed Robert when he led her down a hallway on the ground floor. He stopped in front of a closed door to what she assumed was the morning room and turned toward her.
“You have no reason to be nervous; they are very kind,” he said with emphasis as his green eyes met hers.
Jo exhaled deeply, slightly embarrassed, but more relieved that he would take the time to reassure her. She sent him a feeble smile and nodded.
Robert’s eyes searched her face for another moment before he opened the door.
“Good morning, everyone,” she heard him say in a jovial tone he had used with Thornston as well.
“Robert!” she heard a woman exclaim. It must be his mother.
There was a mumbling of greetings before he stepped aside, and Jo entered and the room fell quiet.
“I would like you to meet the new Duchess of Riddlesmarsh, Josephine,” Robert presented her.
He placed a hand at the small of her back and nudged her forward. Jo only distantly noticed the comfort it gave her as she looked into the shocked eyes of Robert’s family.
His mother and eldest sister, Lady Margaret, had the same green eyes as him.
His mother had dark brown hair, while Lady Margaret’s was a fiery coppery tone.
His youngest sister, Lady Philomena’s eyes were blue and her hair blonde.
There was something slightly angelic about her in her white dress.
It was only accentuated by the black-haired man about Robert’s age who was sitting beside her at the head of the table.
His eyes were just as blue as Philomena’s, but there was nothing angelic about him.
He was frowning more than staring at her like the rest of the family was.
“My friends call me Jo,” she blurted before hurriedly adding: “I am very pleased to meet you all. Lord Barforth, Lady Barforth,” she had started curtsying before she realized that as a duchess, she outranked them.
“Lady Margaret, Lady Philomena,” she continued although she did not curtsy to them but merely bent her head and made an awkward move of her knees.
Robert’s hand moved from the small of her back, and she did not dare to look at him. Jo’s cheeks started to heat, and her eyes darted between the gathered people. Her family, she supposed.
“Your… your wife?” Robert’s mother stammered.
The scraping of chairs drew everyone’s attention away from Jo as Robert’s stepbrother rose.
“Congratulations,” he offered and came around the table to extend a hand to Robert, before offering Jo a stiff bow.
“This is my stepbrother, Xavier Trevelyan, the Earl of Barforth,” Robert introduced and slapped his back in an obvious sign of male affection. Robert’s face was at ease, and the corners of his mouth turned slightly up, but if Jo was not mistaken, there was a hint of relief in his voice.
“Pleased to meet you… duchess,” the earl said.
It seemed he did not want to call her by her first name. Perhaps it had been too rash of her to assume as much.
Jo nodded and smiled awkwardly and was then distracted by the women of the family joining them. Lady Margaret strode forward, while Lady Philomena walked stiffly supported by a cane. Robert had not mentioned this, and Jo tried not to stare.
She was distracted by Robert’s mother kissing him on both cheeks before assessing Jo with a curious glance.
She was around fifty, Jo believed, and had a spirited air about her.
Her dark-brown hair with silvery lines was coiffed perfectly into a chignon and she was dressed in a burnt orange-red gown that accentuated her eyes.
“I am Robert’s mother. You may call me Helena,” she told Jo, who smiled and was then uncertain what to do.
She was saved from further guessing when Robert came to stand beside her again. As had become her habit it seemed, Jo snaked her arm through his.
It was not until she saw the eyes of the entire family following the movement that she realized how forward it was of her. She was about to step away when Robert placed his hand on top of hers.
Lady Margaret and Lady Philomena kissed Robert’s cheeks as well, Robert carefully steadying his youngest sister as she did so. Jo was invited to call them Maggie and Philomena respectively. Although Maggie rolled her eyes as Robert suggested the use of her pet name.
“It makes me sound like a young girl,” she scoffed. “But Margaret makes me sound like an old woman. There is no winning with that name.”
“I am sorry, Darling. It was your grandmother’s name and your father insisted,” Helena teased her in a way that told Jo they had had this discussion many times before.
Jo and Robert filled their plates at the buffet and were immediately invited to tell the story of their hasty marriage as they sat down.
Jo feared how she would be perceived from Robert’s tale, but he was very considerate, did not mention the contracts, only that they had discussed the advantages of their union at length and had agreed that they would both benefit from it.
“I beg your pardon… Jo,” Maggie said and directed her attention toward her.
Maggie had a presence about her, which was a lot when all centered on you, and Jo fought to appear calm.
She knew that whatever Maggie said would be a test of her.
“Am I understanding my brother correctly that you married him because you did not want your cousin to sell your cottage by the sea?”
“Maggie,” Robert chided her with a sigh and let everyone know with one word that his sister had misunderstood the situation.
“Stop using my name to scold me,” Maggie snapped at him, her eyes sending daggers at her brother.
Maggie held Robert’s gaze for a moment, which Robert returned with equal fierceness.
Jo felt a flicker in her stomach at the sight of him so serious and determined-looking, which she did not like to examine, before Maggie turned her attention back to Jo and she could thankfully look away from Robert again.
“In a way, yes,” Jo began answering Maggie’s question as if they had not been interrupted. “But it is more that I did not want my cousin controlling my life… and he would have, if he managed my money.”
“But now Robert does,” Maggie countered and made a flick of her hand with the silver fork.
“Maggie,” Helena said gently, which only earned her a glare from her eldest daughter.
Jo opened her mouth to speak, not certain how to answer this without offending Robert or his family. Truth be told, she would rather not have married at all, but she could hardly say so in front of them.
“The lesser of two evils,” Robert joked and winked at her.
“Definitely,” she agreed and smiled in relief.