Page 20 of The Duke’s Absolutely Fantastic Fling (The Notorious Briarwoods #15)

E mily slapped the card down upon the table, clapped her hands together, and gave out a cry of triumph.

“You’ve done it again,” Josephine exclaimed.

“Indeed,” said Anne. “Though it is no surprise. You always win.”

“I don’t always win,” Emily said.

“All right,” Anne replied. “You often win.”

Phoebe sat, watching the banter between her family, eyes alight with amusement and pleasure.

Josephine grinned at her sisters, picked up a small purple macaron, and bit into it. The delicate pastry burst in her mouth and touched her tongue with sugary goodness. The chef was particularly good at macarons.

The small plate to the right of her elbow was filled with macarons of different colors and flavors. Tea had been served as well, and she was savoring every bit of it.

Who knew how often she’d get to do this after she married the Duke of Rossbrea? Surely she’d be going to Scotland. The thought gave her some pause. Scotland was very beautiful, but she didn’t want to think about being away from her family. She couldn’t.

“I don’t know how you do it, frankly,” Anne said, shuffling the cards. “You’re always winning.”

“Well,” Emily replied, taking up her delicately painted teacup with purple pansies covering the bowl, “perhaps I have exceptional luck.”

“Perhaps you’re exceptionally good at remembering cards,” Anne said, pursing her lips.

Emily’s eyebrows popped up. “Are you accusing me of cheating?” she gasped.

“Never,” Anne protested, bringing a hand to her bosom, covering the delicate lace there. “I’m accusing you of being exceptionally good at numbers and exceptionally good at memorization.”

Emily grinned. “I can’t argue with that. I admit to both of those things.”

“And you should,” Josephine said. “If you’d been born a man, no doubt you’d be at Oxford right now. You are terribly clever.”

Emily let out a sigh. “It’s true. If only there was a place for me at university.”

But there was not.

Josephine was quite proud of her sister for being so clever.

So was Anne. Since Emily was exceptionally good at cards, if they wanted to make certain that they always won some night in town, she was the key.

But she had to be very careful, otherwise people might actually accuse her of cheating, and then things would go very ill indeed.

Emily never cheated at cards. She could simply remember what cards had been played. And to some, that was an unfair advantage, but Emily never ever hurt anyone when playing cards. She refused to play for money because of her abilities, and Josephine rather admired her for it.

Oh, how she admired Emily and Anne.

She loved them so dearly, and as she looked at them, she felt her spirits sink and her heart began to beat too fast. How was she going to bear being away from these two girls who she had been with almost her entire life?

Before she could consider it further, the door to the small yet beautiful sitting room burst open.

Elspeth charged in. “My darlings,” she cried, still in her travel clothes.

Josephine beamed at her. “Ellie! You’re back.”

“I am, and I have come with someone else as well!” Ellie, who had recently married Octavian, Josephine’s cousin, had gone on a honeymoon trip before he had to return to war.

The young bride beamed with the sort of joy that only a newly married woman could. Even so, Josephine felt certain she detected a hint of sadness. How could there not be just the slightest hint, even in all that joy, for Ellie’s husband would soon have to go to war?

Napoleon refused to stop raging, and so the army had to keep fighting.

But as Ellie stepped aside, her bright green travel gown swaying about her exceptionally tall physique, in strode Josephine’s mama, Lady Aurelia.

She too looked rosy-cheeked, as if her own travels had done her good.

She and Josephine’s father, Lord Achilles, had once again gone to the Continent to engage in the work that gave them the most meaning—finding homes and providing good lives for those who had been displaced by the long-standing war.

It was difficult work, but they did not shirk from it.

Josephine bolted up from her seat, as did Emily and Anne. They charged across the room and wrapped their arms about Ellie and Lady Aurelia. There was a general collection of glee from all of them, and quickly they had the two ladies sat down at chairs around the table.

“Shall we play cards?” Anne asked.

Ellie shook her head. “No, I would far rather drink tea, eat macarons, and have a good gossip.”

Lady Aurelia smiled slowly, tugging her leather gloves off. “And I hear there is much to gossip about,” she said, pointedly looking at Josephine. “Even more than what you told me in your last letter.”

Josephine let out a small groan. “Oh dear, has the news traveled to you already?”

“Well, I knew I had to return for the end of the Season and your fateful decisions. Your letters have left me breathless. But I must ask. Are the whispers true? Did you decide last night?”

Josephine swallowed. “Yes, Mama. I said yes.”

“How wonderful, my dear!” her mother gushed. “Do you think it’s wonderful?”

It was a pointed question and she felt herself growing uneasy. “I love him, Mama. There’s no question about it.”

Her mother’s face softened at this. “Good.”

Ellie let out a crow of joy. “You are going to marry my brother. I am so happy we shall be sisters even more truly now.”

“And I’m very happy for it,” Josephine said.

And she was because Ellie had always needed sisters. She’d been born into a family with more brothers than any young woman could know what to do with, and she had thrived in it. But having sisterly affection was something that could not be sniffed at.

“Why do you look sad?” Ellie asked suddenly, taking up a soft green macaron.

“I’m not sad,” Josephine replied quickly, picking up her cup and saucer and taking a sip from the delicate cup.

“Something is amiss,” her mother mused.

Josephine placed her cup back into the china saucer and peered at the dark tea. “If I’m honest, as I sit at this table with all of you and think of the cousins and of Grandmama, I don’t know how I’m going to bear it.”

“What?” Ellie asked softly, leaning forward, her rose-colored gown shifting as she pressed her elbows to the table.

Tears stung her eyes, and to Josephine’s horror, her throat began to tighten. “Being away from all of you. Though, Ellie, I know you shall come to Scotland often and that shall brighten my heart dearly. I have never been away from my family and…”

Her breath began to catch, her heartbeat began to rise arise again, and her eyes no longer merely stung. No, they filled with tears, and suddenly she could not take the crushing weight of it.

Josephine put down her cup with a clatter as the room closed in on her, her emotions fierce. She pushed back from the table and bolted up. Her chest hurt, she couldn’t breathe, and her hands tensed. Unable to explain herself, she fled from the room.

Fled! The gall of fleeing filled her.

Yes, she fled down the hall on feet that stumbled across the carpet.

She needed to go outside. She needed to smell her flowers. Everything was coming apart. And as soon as she found herself out under the warm late-season sun, she tried to drink in air but could not.

Soon, she heard the pattering feet of the ladies that she loved so much in her family. Hands guided her from behind, gently stroking her back.

“Mama,” she whispered, immediately knowing that her rock of a mother was at her side, keeping her strong.

Her mother held her hand gently. “My darling, oh my darling, I’m so sorry these have started again. I am here now.”

“I know,” Josephine managed. “I know, but when will they stop? It is too terrible.”

Her mother paused, then squeezed her hand more firmly. “I think, my dear, you are very afraid that things will change, and change for you has sometimes been very awful indeed.”

Josephine swung her gaze up to her mother, but it was hard to do so. Everything in her body told her to escape, to run. She was shaking now, but she sucked in a slow breath.

“Come, my dear,” her mother urged. “The best thing for it, you know, is to walk. We shall walk and converse.”

“With us?” called out her dear sisters and Ellie too.

Phoebe followed, undaunted and eager to help.

And then, as a collective, a bevy, if you will, of Briarwood women in bright gowns with curled hair and usually bouncing personalities, they walked. They walked down to the Thames and then headed along the banks wordlessly, letting Josephine pace it out.

“I love him so much,” Josephine sobbed, hating that she felt so unsteady now.

“I fell in love with him in Scotland, and I knew it then. But at the same time, the idea of leaving Heron House, of leaving all of you… I don’t know if I can actually do it.

I want to marry him so badly and now I realize that feeling I had?

Oh Mama, I told Grandmama that I did not think that I was for him.

I knew that he was for me, but I was not for him.

But now I know, oh God, Mama, I simply couldn’t bear the idea of going away from my family. What happens if I go away from you?”

And then her mother pulled her into her arms. “My darling girl, you will never truly be away from us. We are your family. We will always be your family, and we love you more than anything in the whole world.”

The next thing Josephine knew, she was enveloped in the arms of Anne, Emily, Elspeth, Phoebe, and her mother. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Tears of relief as the tension began to ebb from her body as she realized those voices inside her that had been at war for weeks did not have to rule her.

She had thought that it was him who was the cause of all of this. She’d been so afraid that she was going to let him down. Especially after her light, mischievous self had slipped whenever these bouts of fear had come to her.

But she’d been so mistaken about almost all of it. There was no dark shadow in him. Teague was right. There was only the sort of shadow in his heart that came with everyday living, that came from having a sensitive soul who understood the difficulties of the world and wished to make it better.

His shadows were not like hers. And in that moment, she knew that her fear had come not because they were not meant to be together, but because if they were together, she felt like she might have to leave the family that had saved her.

And no matter what her grandmother might say, no matter what her mother or her cousins might say, she had not saved herself, they had saved her.

Day by day, year by year, they had plucked her out of the cavern of despair. They had pulled her back from the brink as a child and they had always been there for her, and she wanted them to be there always.

Some part of her, some deep inexplicable part that could not be reasoned with, was terrified, and she knew what part that was.

It was a little girl who’d had to leave her mother and father, whose bodies had grown lifeless. A little girl who had roamed the fields desperate for food, desperate for love, desperate for comfort, and who had finally found it in the arms of Lord Achilles and Lady Aurelia Briarwood.

She lifted her eyes to her mother. “I love you,” she said.

“And I you,” her mother said fiercely. “And whatever comes, my darling, we will never ever leave you to it alone.”