Page 16 of A Duke to Undo her (The Husband Hunt #1)

Chapter Eleven

“Can’t I have breakfast in bed?” Josephine grumbled as Vera threw back the curtains and Betsy opened the wardrobe to lay out her dress for the day.

“At your age, as a guest in someone’s house, without any illness or infirmity?

No, Josephine,” Lady Elmridge told her firmly but with good humor.

“You must rise for breakfast and come downstairs with the rest of us. Betsy will lay out your white figured muslin and the green sash. It is very becoming for a young lady on a warm day like this.”

With a sigh, Josephine swung herself reluctantly from the bed.

The final scene in the parlor room last night was no less confusing for the bright sunlight now streaming in through the windows.

She already knew from past experience that there would be censorious looks, raised eyebrows and whispers when she met the rest of the party. There always were.

Worse than that was the thought of seeing the Duke of Ashbourne again.

What should she expect from him? A disapproving scowl and orders she could merrily defy?

An ill-groomed barbarian who might kiss her without warning?

Or a civilized yet disturbingly attractive man who lost at cards so graciously that she wanted to beat him again only for the pleasure of seeing that handsome smile?

Josephine remembered waking in the night in a damp sweat, with her nightgown bunched uncomfortably between her legs and a frustrated tension in her body, and suspected she had dreamed of that kiss in the garden again, as she had done several times before.

This made her feel cross at Cassius Emerton all over again for invading her dreams.

“The white muslin will get dirty while we’re outside,” Josephine complained vaguely as she watched Betsy setting out the necessary articles of clothing, but without offering any real resistance to her sister’s plans for her dress.

“Only if you and Mr. Emerton decide to entertain yourselves by rolling down a hill. Refrain from that and I am sure your white muslin will prove equal to the day,” teased her sister. “Now, there is warm water in your basin and your clothes are on the bed. I shall wait for you next door.”

Mr. Emerton? With a shock, Josephine realized that she had not thought about her supposed true love once since last night. In fact, she did not even know if he had remained in the room for the game of brag or had rejoined his mother in the main drawing room.

Josephine felt no guilt with her surprise, however, also being strangely confident that Benedict Emerton would not have suffered at all from her lack of attention. He liked her, and was generally a happy young man, but his happiness was not dependent upon Josephine.

Was it possible that he was not her true love after all..?

The breakfast room was already busy by the time Lady Elmridge and her younger sister arrived and took some empty seats at the large round table in front of the well-loaded sideboard from which guests filled their plates.

Fruit cakes, freshly baked rolls and pastries lay there alongside dishes of fried eggs, bacon, mushroom and other hot food.

Butter, cream and several varieties of jam filled white ramekins scattered on the breakfast table and in its centre and bowls of fresh fruit sat beside pots of steaming coffee and tea.

While young ladies were supposed to eat sparingly, Josephine never held back from such good food and filled her plate.

Rose might eat like a bird in emulation of her favorite heroines in novels, and Madeline because she feared putting on too much weight like her rather substantial aunts, but Josephine never let herself be influenced by either of these friends.

As Josephine had anticipated, there had been several smiles and hushed comments as she entered the room. She now distinctly heard her name in some small conversation passing between Lady Belinda and the accomplished Lady Penelope.

“…Lady Josephine is known for it…Apparently, at a house party last season…"

Mr. Emerton, Miss Tewkes and Dowager Duchess Nerissa were all missing from the group, perhaps having eaten breakfast early, or being even later risers than Josephine. It was a shame, since they seemed the three least likely people to join in any effort of general disapproval against her.

Oh well, she had dealt with all this before and refused to be troubled by it. At least the Duke of Ashbourne had returned to ignoring her, sitting behind a large open newspaper and lowering it only to give Vera and Josephine a civil, if distracted, nod.

“Are you going to entertain us at breakfast too?” said the man Josephine remembered as Lord Carbury. “I do hope so.”

At first, she assumed this man was speaking to Lady Penelope but then realized that this young lady and her companions were hiding sly laughter behind their hands or coffee cups.

“I don’t know what you mean, Lord Carbury,” Josephine said calmly, intensely disliking his round, pink face, his slick mousy hair, and the nasty glint in his stupid eyes.

“Well, I’ve never seen a song and dance conclusion to a card game before. It was almost as entertaining a spectacle than the chorus at the Palladium theatre.”

One or two others at the table tittered and Vera began to look distressed, wanting to defend her sister but knowing that Josephine’s behavior had been decidedly indecorous.

Josephine herself was tempted to pour her hot coffee straight into Lord Carbury’s lap and see how that entertained him.

She bit her lip as she restrained herself.

“You of course would be a perfect model of manners, Lord Carbury, I suppose?” said a stern voice before Josephine could carry out this plan or any other.

“You would never get embarrassingly tight at a house party, make a fool of yourself at cards and then confirm your lack of judgement and decorum by attempting to publicly humiliate a young woman fifteen years your junior?”

The Duke of Ashbourne had laid down his newspaper on the table and was looking at the rather soft and silly Lord Carbury with a dangerous expression.

The sight of him made Josephine’s heart thump.

Cassius Emerton was the opposite of soft and silly.

Like him or not, he was a strong and masterful man whose personality had been forged in the fire of hard experience.

“I say, I never meant to…” the man stumbled, evidently no longer thinking himself so clever in the eyes of Lady Belinda and Lady Penelope who were now eating their breakfasts with great concentration as though they had no interest in present proceedings at all.

“I, well, I…” Lord Carbury tried again, struggling to meet the duke’s eyes and still failing to make his point, if he had one. “I mean to say…”

“Don’t worry, Carbury. I hold no grudges. There is no merit in unequal combat. You would do well to remember that.”

“Oh, ah, quite,” agreed Carbury, scratching his head, clearly unable to decipher the meaning of the duke’s last sentence, but understanding that one way or another, he had displeased his host.

Even to Josephine, the duke’s last statement was ambiguous. Was Cassius Emerton telling Lord Carbury that he was demeaning himself by tormenting a helpless young woman? Or was he telling the man that he wasn’t worth Cassius’ own time? She hoped for the latter.

“After Lady Penelope and Lady Josephine, maybe we can look to you to entertain us tonight, Lord Carbury?” the duke added with a thin smile, picking up his newspaper again. “What do you say?”

“Haha, I don’t know about that…Well, you will have your fun,” reacted Lord Carbury with an uncertain little laugh of his own, maybe deciding it was best to treat this entire intervention as a joke between gentlemen.

It didn’t matter in any case, because the Duke of Ashbourne had returned to reading his newspaper once more and ignoring the entire company. All Josephine could really see of him were his large, capable hands, gripping the pages. Well, that suited her almost as much as Lord Carbury’s silence.

More cheerful now, if no less confused, Josephine ate a hearty breakfast and looked forward to the day ahead.

“There, that’s the last clue for the treasure hunt,” said Josephine, signing it off with a small sketch of a swan and a flourish.

She laid down the quill by the ink pot and put the paintbrushes into the water jar. Benedict Emerton picked up this final scrap of paper and blew on it as he examined the writing and accompanying pictures making up the clue.

They had gathered in an art and crafting room near the conservatories to work on plans for their treasure hunt. Vera sat reading peacefully in a chair on the other side of the room, having promised not to listen or peek at anything.

“My, you do have fine writing and drawing, Lady Josephine, as well as being my favorite dance partner and one of the few people to beat Cassius at any card game,” said Mr. Emerton admiringly. “Anyone who can best my brother is bound to be my friend. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Pass an hour in company without attracting a disapproving comment?” she suggested ruefully, glad to have the uncomplicated Mr. Emerton at her side again. “I dare say that Lady Belinda, Lady Penelope and Miss Tewkes never struggle with something so simple.”

“Do not talk to me of Miss Tewkes,” responded Mr. Emerton in a stage whisper, as though the lady herself might be lurking under a table or behind the curtains. “Thanks to my mother, I have had quite enough of Miss Tewkes and her accomplishments for one day.”

Josephine giggled, having observed the dowager duchess several times introducing Miss Tewkes into the company of her unwilling but polite younger son.

“You did not enjoy your walk in the gardens after breakfast then?”

“No, I did not. I suspect that she is the kind of woman who couldn’t surprise a pelican if she tried.”

At this reference to their own absurd first meeting, they both fell about in laughter, causing Vera to look up at them and smile indulgently.

“How is the treasure hunt coming along?” Lady Elmridge asked.

“Wonderfully!” Mr. Emerton declared, recovering his composure. “Lady Josephine has finished all the clues and I shall now go out on my horse and lay them. After luncheon, everyone who wishes may join the game.”

With a polite bow, he left the ladies to themselves and left the room.

“I always find that young man’s company so very pleasant,” Vera commented with her usual approbation of Mr. Emerton. “I barely worry for you at all when you are with him for I am sure you will always be completely safe. If only all young gentlemen were so straightforward and good-hearted.”

“I am glad you approve of Mr. Emerton,” Josephine replied, glad that she appeared to be doing something right for once.

“I do like him a great deal. Now, I think I might change this white muslin. It won’t do for the treasure hunt and if I change before luncheon, I don’t risk dropping food on it either.

I don’t want to create unnecessary work for Betsy. ”

“Go on then,” laughed her older sister. “I know you didn’t really want to wear that today. Only put on something sensible and respectable and I shall be content. Call Betsy while you’re upstairs changing and have her fix your hair too. It’s only eleven o’clock and it’s already all over the place.”

Glad to be alone, Josephine hastened from the room before Vera could change her mind and follow. While she did intend to change her dress, and was therefore not deliberately deceiving her sister, there was something else she wished to do first. It was a point of honor.

The Duke of Ashbourne had not been obliged to defend her as he had done at breakfast. Maybe it had even come hard to him, given his past opinion of her.

Still, he had done it, and Josephine felt that she owed him her thanks.

It was not a conversation she wanted to have in front of other guests but now she had an opportunity to seek him out alone.