Page 41 of A Duke to Undo her (The Husband Hunt #1)

The gown she brought to lay on the large sofa was a white summer silk with some floral embroidery and a forest-green sash.

It was somewhere between a day dress and an evening dress, informal in design but constructed of the finest materials.

Josephine knew instantly that this was what she would wear to her wedding.

“It suits Josephine but it is very simple,” Madeline commented.

“Perhaps, but with Mother’s emeralds, it will be just right,” judged Ophelia. “That simple style never suited Constance but it works for Josephine.”

“Sometimes the simpler the better, especially on the wedding night,” Vera added in another private joke with Ophelia and the two of them laughed together once more, as Rose looked on in puzzlement.

“Thank you, Constance,” Josephine said sincerely, accepting the dress and kissing her oldest sister’s cheek. “I know I have shocked you…”

“You cannot help shocking me,” Constance broke in, but with affection. “I know how…different your are. It does not affect how much I love you. Dear little sister, I want you only to be happy. If the Duke of Ashbourne is truly the man you want, then you have my blessing.”

“I hope you mean that, Constance,” sounded Victor’s voice merrily as he entered the drawing room, ahead of both Percival and Norman. “We have just agreed that the wedding will take place in a fortnight, haven’t we, Your Grace?”

“We had a drink at one of the bars on the Temple embankment with the lawyers and then brought Cassius back with us,” added Percival, appearing rather pink and fueled with rather more than a single measure of brandy or whisky. “He is to be our brother, after all.”

“We shall take him to dine at to my club,” announced Norman, with equal cheerfulness. “But he will first need the use of a comb and my valet should equip him with a fresh collar and stock…”

“Two weeks?!” Constance broke in loudly, as Vera and Madeline scrabbled quickly to hide the chosen wedding dress from the deep blue gaze of the Duke of Ashbourne who now entered the room behind Josephine’s relatives. “Victor!? How will we manage everything in two weeks?”

“It is all arranged, bar the wedding breakfast and that must be at Ashbourne Castle since our license is for my parish church,” said Cassius Emerton, walking past the other men, directly to Josephine’s side.

“If you provide a list of family and friends, my mother will doubtless assist you. She has been wanting to marry me off for at least a decade.”

“Should I write to your mother?” Josephine suggested as the duke’s hands settled again at her waist. “Duchess Nerissa has been kind to me. I should like to send word to Benedict too, to let him know that we are to be brother and sister, in law now, as well as affection. They will still live at Ashbourne Castle after we marry, won’t they? ”

“I expect so,” the duke nodded, gazing down into her green eyes with complete absorption and then raising her hand to his lips. “Write a note tonight and I shall enclose it with mine tomorrow. Then they can read both together. I believe they will understand.”

Vera and Madeline needn’t have worried about concealing the dress.

The duke only had eyes for Josephine and she reveled in it, wishing only that they were alone.

How she wished to to kiss the dark shadow of his upper lip and run her hands through his already less than orderly hair.

The duke’s head began to bend towards her…

Before Josephine or her duke could do any of the things they longed for, Lord Norfield cleared his throat loudly beside them, with humorous effect.

“You are not married yet,” he reminded them. “Two weeks is not so very long to wait.”

“Two weeks,” acknowledged Cassius, removing himself reluctantly from Josephine’s orbit and following Victor and the other men to the door but then looking back with a knowing smile. “Not a day longer, Josephine.”

In that moment, the duke’s expression was so intimate and familiar that Josephine found herself blushing to the roots of her hair in the knowledge of what he was thinking.

“But wouldn’t it be better to wait a few months longer and have a proper trousseau?

” asked Rose once the drawing room door had closed and the voice of Mr. Booth, Norman’s valet, could be heard in the hallway with the gentlemen.

“Why hurry to get everything done in two weeks? I would rather have all my new gowns ready.”

Vera and Ophelia laughed together knowingly while Constance threw up her hands helplessly acknowledging her inability to hold back the tide of Josephine and Cassius’ determination.

“I suppose,” said Madeline, striking a tactful balance between Rose’s innocence and the experience of the older Thomson ladies, “when two people love one another, they wish to be married as quickly as possible. Isn’t that so?”

“I want to be with Cassius,” Josephine confirmed. “I want it more than new gowns or a wedding party that the whole ton talks of, or anything else.”

“That bodes well,” Constance observed approvingly. “Whether an engagement is short or long, it is the marriage, not the wedding, that matters at the end of the day.”

“And the wedding night, that matters too,” giggled Ophelia, although hushed by Vera, whose eyes swiveled to Rose. “You will see what I mean soon enough, Josephine.”

Even Constance now smiled briefly, as though recalling a happy memory.

“What do you mean? Why does everyone talk so much about the wedding night?” Rose asked, her curiosity encouraged by the company and several glasses of champagne. “I cannot imagine what is so interesting about going to bed when everything is over.”

Josephine herself already had a very good idea of what Ophelia meant, although she admitted her knowledge was not yet complete. Remembering the brief sight of Cassius’ most intimate parts in the library that night, she felt an eager and pleasurable rush of her blood.

“You will understand when you fall in love,” she assured her friend and then tried to return the conversation to tracks they might all follow. “Now, I shall need advice on my hair styling.”

This question received a nod of approval from Constance.

“Flowers are always becoming for a young woman on her wedding day,” she suggested. “They can be easily matched to your bouquet too. Yes, I think we should look at flowers.”

“I say, as little styling as possible,” Ophelia suggested, perhaps feeling more free than usual since the nursery maid presently had charge of both her children. “It is rather like the buttons. Anything too complicated is only in the way eventually.”

Before Rose could ask any further questions prompted by this suggestion, the voices of the gentlemen passed into the room from the hallway.

“You didn’t bring a hat?” queried Norman, always a natty dresser himself. “They won’t like that at the club although I doubt they will quibble with a duke.”

“I was in rather a hurry,” the Duke of Ashbourne excused himself. “The business of the day was urgent.”

“My dear fellow, you must take one of mine,” said Percival. “Booth, can you pass the duke the comb once more. I think perhaps he has not quite finished combing.”

“Oh, there is no point,” answered the duke. “My hair always does this. My mother and brother despair of it.”

“No, no, we shall not despair, Your Grace. I have some excellent pomade upstairs. Booth can work wonders…”

Josephine smiled and then laughed, imagining the scene in the hallway where Cassius Emerton was, for once in his life, being treated as a younger rather than elder brother. It would be good for him to let others take the lead for once and she felt no urge to interfere.

At last the front door sounded behind the men as it closed and the ladies looked at one another.

“I believe your duke loves you very much, Josephine,” Vera observed. “He would have to love you, to put up with such fussing from Norman over hats and hair pomade.”

“Or to argue Victor down from a minimum of two months to two weeks before the wedding,” said Constance crossly, “despite my explicit instruction. Naturally, I am pleased that Josephine has made a good match, but this unnecessary rushing is most inconvenient. It will stir up gossip too, especially after the scene in the park, and how will we explain it all to Great Aunt Winifred?”

“The Duke of Ashbourne is so in love that he cannot wait,” sighed Ophelia dreamily, now distinctly tipsy on champagne.

“It might have been alarming at the time but I can see the romance now. Did you all see how he looked at Josephine? It made me think of the night Percival proposed to me at the theatre…”

“Norman proposed at the British Museum, in front of the Greek vases,” Vera laughed. “I thought he was translating an inscription at first because he was so hesitant and looking so earnestly at an urn while he spoke. What about you, Constance? Where was your proposal? Was it romantic?”

“Victor proposed on the staircase at Norfield House after dinner when Great Aunt Winifred was visiting,” Constance answered with a smile, briefly cajoled into dropping her worried expression.

“Yes, it was very romantic, if not unexpected by that point. There was plenty of time for planning the wedding afterwards. I’m sorry to keep harking on this point, Josephine, but your duke is being very impetuous. ”

“I cannot wait either,” Josephine confessed wistfully, feeling that even two weeks was too long. “You must not blame only Cassius, Constance.”

“Oh never mind all this looking backwards and forwards and sideways,” cut in Vera sensibly, pouring out fresh champagne for all. “These threads can all be picked up tomorrow. Tonight, let us only celebrate Josephine’s present news, fait accompli that it is. To Josephine and Cassius!”

The ladylike toast echoed around the room and then Lady Rose looked to Josephine once more.

“Do tell me again how the Duke of Ashbourne proposed in the park. It is better than any story I have read…”