Page 37 of A Duke to Undo her (The Husband Hunt #1)
Chapter Twenty-Six
“How bright the sun is shining,” Constance commented for at least the fourth time that day, filling Josephine’s unusual silence as the four sisters strolled.
“A beautiful day,” Ophelia agreed, patting the baby on her shoulder. “Josephine, do pull up your bonnet. You and I both freckle so easily in the sunlight.”
“It is too hot for bonnets,” Josephine said vaguely, wanting badly to feel the sun on her face and the wind in her fast-loosening hair.
Late morning was a popular time for members of the ton to be exercising their horses, taking the air on foot, or simply parading themselves, their clothes or their carriages in London’s parks.
Josephine was sure there had been odd glances and whispers from other walkers, even before she tipped back her head and deliberately let the bonnet fall down her back.
She saw clearly today that it was often the contrast with her neatly groomed sisters that made her stand out as much as any real disorder in her own dress. In less faultlessly presented and socially appropriate company, she would draw less attention for simply being herself.
Today, she ignored the onlookers, uncaring what others might think of her.
Cassius Emerton had liked her appearance and dress well enough, even in disorder.
Perhaps especially in disorder. What she had taken for critical attention at the start of their acquaintance she had come to recognize as physical desire that he struggled to control.
How naive and foolish seemed her own attitudes from only a few weeks earlier.
“Josephine?” Vera said, nudging her with a gentle smile and directing her attention subtly towards a statuesque lady of late middle age in brightest puce, accompanied by a small man sweating in a winter overcoat, and surrounded by yapping Pekinese dogs on leads.
Usually, Josephine enjoyed entertaining her sisters and their husbands with witty, if irreverent, observations on the most outlandish outfits or vehicles encountered on their walks.
Today, however, she could summon little interest for such games and only nodded in acknowledgement of Vera, who sighed and gave up.
“I do hope that Adam and Arthur are busy at their lessons,” Constance spoke up again. “On fine days, they do sometimes get the better of Mr. Garrett, their tutor, and escape to the gardens. Victor and I promised an outing to the boating pond if they learned their Latin so I hope…”
Josephine listened only vaguely to her oldest sister talking of her two sons and had no remark to offer.
She had agreed to come to the park with her three sisters because it was better to be outdoors than sitting inside, aching for what she could neither have, nor admit to anyone that she wanted – the love of the Duke of Ashbourne.
“Josephine?” said Ophelia’s voice, slightly raised, making the younger woman realize that her second-born sister had already tried to attract her attention several times.
“Vera and I talked about Scotland again. You really would be very welcome to come and stay with me at Kilderhorn as long as you wish. It would be lovely for little Oliver and Matilda to know you.”
“Perhaps,” Josephine replied, not actively wanting to go to Scotland but suspecting that it would be the wisest course of action, for all the reasons Madeline had set out when she first suggested the idea. “Kilderhorn is very quiet, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but we do go to Edinburgh sometimes, and would do so more often if you were with us,” red-haired Ophelia added quickly, wrongly assuming that Josephine was put off by the idea of peace and quiet.
“The assemblies in Edinburgh can be very lively and there are many young Scottish gentlemen there who dance as well as their English counterparts.”
“Is that really any endorsement?” Vera tried to joke. “Poor Lady Rose had a lovely dress badly torn at Ashbourne Castle by a clumsy young Englishman’s feet, didn’t she, Josephine?”
“…Oh, yes, I suppose she did,” Josephine responded absently after a moment’s thought, the ball at the end of the Ashbourne Castle house party so dominated for her by her final parting with Cassius Emerton that every other detail was already fading.
Josephine saw her three older sisters exchange puzzled and slightly worried glances and sighed to herself, wishing that she could be more cheerful for them, not least because of the questions her present mood excited. They were not questions she felt equal to answering.
“You are worn out already this season, I believe, my dear little sister,” said Constance, perceiving that Josephine was not blind to the concern of her elders. “We are all thinking of your health.”
Her oldest sister reached out as if to restore the trailing bonnet to its proper position, but the younger woman skipped back smartly, not wishing to be treated like a doll today. She was too full of her own feelings to play along.
“There is really no need for concern,” she assured her sisters. “I am only…tired.”
“Shall we return to Elmridge House, Josephine?” Vera asked and then looked to her other sisters.
“We have walked one full circuit of the park and our carriage is over there. I could accompany Josephine if the rest of the party wish to remain here longer. The gentlemen did express a wish for exercise this morning.”
Lady Elmridge glanced back at her husband, walking companionably with Lord Kilderhorn and Lord Norfield, the husbands of Ophelia and Constance, a little way behind them.
“No, there is no need, Vera,” Josephine protested again, increasingly irritated at being fussed over like this. “I prefer to be outside. The air is doing me good. Please, let us all continue walking.”
Her sisters seemed to accept this and they continued along the path, Constance now taking little Matilda from Ophelia’s arms.
“I have heard that Dr. Hill in Bloomsbury is the best physician in London for fatigue,” Ophelia then said, to Josephine’s further dismay. “Have you heard of him, Constance? Lady Orpley said that…”
Josephine fell back slightly, as unobtrusively as she could.
She was already suffering a surfeit of unwanted attention and a physician could only make matters worse.
Medical men could only treat illnesses of the body, not of the heart.
Going to Scotland and away from all this seemed the simplest course of action…
“Josephine?!”
At first, Josephine thought she must have imagined that deep, urgent voice calling her name, having wanted so very much to hear it ever since she left Ashbourne Castle.
She did not even look up, but when it sounded a second time, her head turned and her eyes lighted on a tall, dark-haired figure bowling along the path, causing other promenaders to jump hastily out of the way.
“Josephine!”
Frozen now in place, Josephine’s heart felt risen into her throat. It was unmistakably the Duke of Ashbourne, more disheveled than she had ever yet seen him, his face desperate and flushed with exertion as he raced across the park. What could be the meaning of this?
In a flurry of movement, Josephine found herself surrounded by her sisters, their husbands rushing into place to form a barrier between the loudly shouting man and their womenfolk.
Cassius Emerton seemed oblivious to the attention he was drawing from the wider park visitors, many of whom had now stopped in their tracks to watch the odd scene unfolding.
Faced with the united front of Lord Norfield, Lord Kilderhorn and Lord Elmridge blocking his progress, the duke came to an unwilling halt.
With concern for her brothers-in-law as well as Cassius himself, Josephine hoped that he wouldn’t try to knock them aside and rush through.
While the Duke of Ashbourne was both taller and broader than the other men, there were three of them. Someone could get hurt.
The reaction of the gathering crowd also unsettled her, with words like “maniac” and “madman” now reaching her ears.
“Dear God!” she exclaimed to herself more than to anyone else. “What is he trying to do?”
“Don’t worry, Josephine,” Constance replied, having returned Matilda to her mother and looking rather formidable in her own dignified way as she glared towards the wild-haired trespasser on the morning’s peace. “Victor and the others won’t let that man near you. Nor will we.”
“What do you mean by this intrusion, sir?!” Josephine heard Victor, Lord Norfield, demand angrily. “Be on your way, whoever you are.”
“I must speak with Lady Josephine,” Cassius insisted, standing his ground and seeking her desperately with his eyes as he called out again. “Josephine!”
“We shall call the constables,” Percival, Lord Tamblyn, began to threaten as the duke continued to shout her name.
She tried to at least meet Cassius’ gaze but found herself now almost invisible within the protective huddle of her three sisters.
“Constance, I believe I must speak with him,” Josephine tried to say but was quickly cut off by her protective oldest sister.
“You must not think of such a thing! He might have escaped from bedlam for all we know.”
Belatedly, Josephine realized that the Duke of Ashbourne was not even known to most of her party. Constance, Victor and Percival would be even more at sea than Josephine herself.
“Vera, look at him, you must see who it is,” she urged. “You do see, don’t you? You must tell Constance and the gentlemen.”
There was no need. Seemingly at that very moment, Norman had made the same discovery.
“Your Grace?” Josephine heard Vera’s husband exclaim suddenly, his face gaping in astonished recognition. “Why, I do believe… it is…Cassius, Duke of Ashbourne!”